Blossoms on the Roof (10 page)

The next thing Ben knew, morning had come, and Father was poking the fire to life. For breakfast they fried the eggs that Mother had carefully wrapped in grass to keep them from breaking.

“Ready to work the saw again?” Father asked as Ben chewed down his last bite of bread.

“Yes,” Ben answered manfully though his shoulders and arms felt sore.

After an hour they were ready to load the wagon and start for home. Jasper and Rob trotted eagerly downhill. They had not liked being tied up in the forest. They wanted to get home as fast as possible.

“Ben,” said Father, several hours later and as they neared home, “let's not tell Polly those stories that Jess Holmes told.”

Ben looked up at Father and nodded.

13

Picnic with the Oxen

W
ater!” yelled Ben so loudly that Polly and Mother could hear him from inside the house.

Polly was helping Mother get dinner when she heard Ben's shout and ran outside shrieking, “Is it coming? Did you find water?”

There was Ben, all covered with dirt and climbing out of the new well. For days the Yoder family had been digging their well. Ben had done most of it because Father had to keep plowing. Mother and Polly often helped Ben by cranking the pails of earth out of the well as fast as he filled them.

Beneath the mud on Ben's face was a big smile. “Yes, there's water down there. Lots of it! I had to hurry to get out of the way.”

Polly leaned over to stare into the well. The noonday sun shone right down into it. And yes, there was the glint of water!

“It's a good thing we have a well now,” Mother said happily. “The creek has been getting very low with all this dry weather.”

Jakie came running to see what all the fuss was about. Just in time Mother grabbed his trousers. “Careful! Don't fall in.”

Ben cleaned out the bucket they had been using to remove the dirt and then let the bucket down again. This time when it came up, it was full of fresh cold water.

“The water's muddy. We can't drink that,” Polly complained.

“In a little while the water will be clear,” Mother assured her. “Now I better hurry in to check those potatoes on the stove.”

Polly followed her indoors. She set the table, sliced the bread, and then ran out again to check the sun. It was straight overhead. That meant it was time for Father to come in for the noon meal.

“Why doesn't Father come in?” Polly asked.

Mother kept on stirring the soup. “Maybe he forgot to check the sun. Surely he'll be in soon.”

Polly stared across the furrows. Father was way out there with the oxen. They were so slow! It would take them a while to reach the house.

Then Polly heard something. “Mother, I can hear Father shouting!”

Mother dropped her spoon and came to the door. For a
moment she listened. A smile slowly spread across her face. “He's shouting at the oxen. I think they don't want to move.”

“Oh, are they being stubborn?”

Mother smiled again. “I think so. I know what we will do. Father can't leave the oxen alone out there. That means he can't come in for dinner. So we will take our dinner out to him and have a picnic!”

Polly laughed and went to find Jakie and Ben. Soon they were all on their way across the furrows, each one carrying some food. Even Lisbet clutched a slice of bread in her little hand.

The children thought a picnic was a great idea!

When he saw the family coming, Father mopped his forehead with his big, blue hankie and started to chuckle. “So you are bringing me my dinner out here because Roland and Trim won't move.”

Mother smoothed out a square in the grass. While she and Polly laid out the food, Father said, “I will get some slough grass for the oxen to eat. Maybe after they have had dinner, they will stop being so stubborn.”

Polly knew what slough grass was. A slough was a low, marshy spot, and the grass that grew there was especially tender.

Once the oxen were munching away, the Yoder family sat down in the grass and asked a blessing on their food. It was May, and the wind blew warm and fragrant across the prairies.

Then Ben remembered the exciting news. “Father, we have a well! I struck water this morning.”

“Ah, that's good,” Father said gratefully. “It reminds me of that story in the Bible where Jesus met a woman at a well.”

Polly begged, “Tell us the story please.”

Father told how Jesus sat down near a well one day. He was tired and thirsty, and His disciples went to town to buy food. When a Samaritan woman came along, Jesus asked her to draw water from the well for Him.

“How surprised the woman was! You see Jesus was a Jew, and the Jews had very little to do with the Samaritans. In
fact, they even looked down on them. To think that a Jewish man would ask a Samaritan woman to draw water for him was almost unthinkable!

“Then Jesus told her something wonderful and mysterious.” Father went on to say, “Jesus offered to give the woman the living water of everlasting life!

“So now,” Father concluded, “when we drink water from our well, we can sometimes remember the blessing of everlasting life that Jesus promised.”

The meal was over, and the oxen must have felt much better because all it took was one word from Father, and they were off!

14

Firebreak
 

T
he warm wind kept blowing, and Father kept on plowing and harrowing. Finally near the end of May, Father said, “It is time to plant the flax.”

Ben jumped up happily. “If you've finished plowing, does that mean we can have Jasper and Rob back?”

Father shook his head. “Sorry, not yet. As soon as the seed is in the ground, I will go on plowing. We want to get even more land ready for next year, you know.”

“Oh. So it'll be a while before we have time to go fishing.” The disappointment showed in Ben's voice.

“Once the planting is done, we will make time,” Father answered cheerfully. “Now, in which packing box will I find our seeds? Do you know, Polly?”

Polly pointed to a box. “We brought the flax seeds in the same box as the garden seeds.”

Father opened the seed bag. He lifted a handful of shiny brown seeds and let them drop down through his fingers.

“What are we going to do with so many acres of flax?” Ben asked.

Father replied, “We will sell the seeds. And we might use some of the stalks to weave linen and make new clothes.”

“Polly and I both need a new dress,” said Mother. “Father and Ben need new shirts. We brought spun wool from the sheep we had in Indiana so we could make some linsey-woolsey fabric.”

“So that's what linsey-woolsey means,” Polly said, chuckling. “Cloth that's made partly from sheep and partly from flax.”

Polly walked out to the field with Father, who had the flax seeds in a bag at his side. When he was ready to sow the seeds, he took a handful, swung his arm, and let the seeds fly out in a rainbow shape. Over and over he did this while walking across the black, crumbly soil.

Then Polly noticed something strange. All the way around the edge of the field stretched a plowed strip of land that was not harrowed. Father did not plant any seeds in that strip. “Why don't you plant here, Father?” Polly asked.

Father stopped planting and looked at Polly. “That plowed strip is our firebreak.”

“What's that?”

“Well, sometimes when the prairie is dry, big fires can
start up, and miles and miles of grass get burned up. We wouldn't want such a fire to burn our house, would we?”

“Oh, no,” said Polly with a shudder.

“So that's why we leave a bare, plowed strip. Because a fire cannot easily jump across that strip, it would likely stop a fire from getting too close to us.” Father reached into his bag for another handful of seeds. On he moved across the field.

Polly stood stock-still.
Miles and miles of fire! How terrible that would be to see the whole prairie on fire.

She ran after Father and asked, “If everything was wet, we wouldn't get a prairie fire, would we?”

“No. Rain is just what we need—for two reasons. Rain would discourage prairie fires, and it would help the flax seeds to grow.”

“Then we should pray for rain.”

“If we do, we must also remember to say, ‘Thy will be done.' God knows best.”

Polly nodded and started back to the house. Suddenly the prairie seemed big and dangerous. She could hardly wait to get back to Mother.

Every night after that, Polly prayed for rain. And one day the blue sky began to fill up with clouds. “I think it's going to rain!” Polly exclaimed.

“That's good,” said Mother, peering out the tiny window at the clouds.

Polly ran outside. Rain was beginning to fall. How good the warm, gentle drops felt on her face!

Mother appeared at the door and said, “Better come inside, Polly. You shouldn't get your woolen dress wet.”

Polly wanted to stay outside. She pointed to the slough where Father and Ben were cutting grass for hay. “Father isn't coming inside,” she said, pouting.

“You must come in,” said Mother sternly.

Polly obeyed. She stood near the window to watch the rain. Soon it stopped, the sun came out, and the clouds scuttled away over the horizon.

“All the clouds are gone,” Polly said, mournfully. “We needed more rain than that.”

Mother said as a reminder, “We mustn't complain. God knows best.”

There was one good thing about the shower being so little—the hay making didn't have to stop. The grass Father had cut last week was ready to bring in, so Father and Ben loaded bundles of hay onto the wagon, and the oxen pulled the wagon to a spot near the house. While building the haystack, Polly had fun climbing up and sliding down the sweet-smelling hay. “Come here, Jakie,” she called. “You can do this too.”

Polly helped Jakie climb up the pile, but instead of sliding down, Jakie took a somersault and landed on his face! Polly slid down pell-mell to help the howling boy. Seeing
the blood on his face, Polly began wailing too. “Oh, Jakie, Jakie,” she cried while staggering with him to the house.

Mother gathered Jakie into her arms and gently washed his face. “There, there. You have a few scratches, but they will be gone soon.”

Jakie quieted down. Polly sniffled and said, “I'm sorry, Mother. I didn't take very good care of him.”

Mother patted her arm. “Next time it will go better.”

Polly's tears stopped as quickly as that morning's little rain shower.

Next morning the flax was up, and the fields looked as if someone had taken a brush and washed the black earth with soft green.

“It's like a miracle,” Mother whispered to Polly. They stood and watched the rays of the morning sun touching the new, little green plants.

“The rain helped, didn't it?” asked Polly.

“Oh, yes! To think that so many tiny seeds have sprouted. We must remember to thank God.”