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This is a short story I wrote for my SS class. |
~1846~ I’ll start me story back in me beloved homeland, Ireland. The Great Hunger, Au Drochshaol, had been going on for almost a year. Our potatoes, our neighbour’s potatoes, everybody’s potatoes were in ruin, all the hard work, in ruin. It was horrible; me family and meself tried everything we could think of to save our potatoes. Nothing worked! Da and me older brother Tyrone went to Dublin to find work. Da told me, ‘We had to save up money to by tickets for the passage way to the canadas.’ Da said, ‘There is grand land over there for a farm, we’ll start a new life, Keara.’ Tyrone and Da set out the next morning, at dawn. Me sister, Devin, told me she was going to finish the shawl Ma was working on before her death. Ma died a few months prior to this, with baby Kacey. Poor ma, poor wee Kacey. Ma passed away after Kacey was born. The strange thing was I didn’t hear Kacey cry. Mrs. Kelly, our dear neighbour, said “Your ma and baby sister are in the Lord’s hands now, Keara.” I don’t understand why she wouldn’t let me see Ma nor wee Kacey, she just shooed me outside. We buried Ma and baby Kacey down by the creek bed, Ma adored it there. We often went there. I remember we went down there to pick the wee wild flowers in the spring; we brought them back home, to our cozy stone home. Devin had planned to sell the shawl to our English Land lord’s wife, Lady Heyworth after she had finished it. She did finish it, it was beautiful, a lovely green shade. Me sister made it flawlessly. The next day Devin took it over to Lady Heyworth’s place. According to her, Lady Heyworth adored it. We were getting real low on the potatoes, the good ones, the ones that are suppose to be our seed potatoes. But there wasn’t anything else to eat, besides Dessa, our chicken. The pain in our tummies grew worse and worse each day. She’s stopped laying eggs, Dessa that is. We kept her close to our home as possible, so I could have hidden her if the land-lord came around. He took Bessie, our cow, because we were not able to pay last months rent, poor old Bessie. We had Bessie for as long as I could remember. The weeks past by. The pain in me and me sister’s tummies, was almost getting to be unbearable. The pain is worse that anything you can imagine. With Dessa not laying eggs anymore, Devin came to the conclusion we should eat her. I hated thinking about having to kill Dessa, but we were desperate for some food, we only had half a dozen small seed potatoes left. I am sad to say, we did slaughtered her and ate her, but I have to say she was the finest meal I had in a long time. Me and Devin hadn’t heard from Da nor Tyrone since they set out to Dublin, many weeks prior. I started to worry, what could have possibly happened to them. Later on that day, a man, not an old man nor a spring chicken- middle age possibly, knocked at the door. Devin had gone to pick some wild herbs for tea, so I answered it. “Miss Keara Morrison?” he questioned, when I opened the door. “Aye,” was me response. “Me name is Malvyn Taylor, I work with ye Da and ye brother Tyrone in Dublin, ye Da asked me to present ye with these, one is for ye and one for yer sister,” Mr. Taylor handed me two slips of paper. I thanked him. “I must be off,” he said, turned on his heel and strolled down the path. I wasn’t able to hold in my excitement in any longer, once I saw Devin making her way up the pebble path to our stone home. She must have sensed me excitement for she hollered, “Keara, it look like ye have ants in yer pants.” When she arrived at our wee stone home, I showed her the paper tickets that Mr. Taylor dropped off. Devin dropped to her knees and whispered loudly, “Thank ye Lord.” That night we were busy, bustling around our wee home, getting ready to leave at first light. Devin told me to boil up the last few potatoes- there was only three if I remember correctly. While I boiled them, she gathered up our few belongings, including Ma’s brush. Ma’s brush was the prettiest thing I had ever seen. The handle was made out of wood, and had little roses buds carved into it. Grand-da made it for Grandma when they wed, and Grandma gave it to Ma on her wedding day. Devin placed every thing into granny’s wee faded blue bag. It took us a few days to get to Dublin but at least the weather was fairly pleasant, aye it did sprinkle a wee bit. We spent the night in the underbrush off to the side of the road, so travelers would not be able to see us. Dublin was crammed with people; most of them were poor, hungry and tired. The faces were unforgettable. A mother and her two wee children huddled together under a thin woven blanket, starving; was one of the pictures that kept flashing in my mind throughout the voyage over to Canada. How we got on to the ship that took us to Canada was quiet faint to me, but I do remember Devin and me found Da and Tyrone. They were thinner and exhausted looking. I remember was waking up on this bug biten bunk with Devin to one side of me, and the swaying motion of the water beneath. I looked around the dim lit room, but I wasn’t able to make out many things. I managed to make out the outline of many other bunks. And I heard the cries of babies and the moaning of people, I knew from that it wasn’t just me family aboard this ship. I fell back asleep listening to the cries and the sound of the waves crashing on the side of the ship. I woke when the room was a wee bit better lit with light. The sun light shone in for the hatch. Tyrone observed that I woke from my slumber; he crossed the room, and embraced me. Tyrone explained to me that I was sick since we left Dublin and that was probably why I didn’t remembering boarding the ship. He informed me that I had been sick for about a week and that I mostly slept. He offered me a biscuit. I took it and ate it without complaining, it was stale. The room had a revolting stench. It was nauseating; it reeked of urine and vomit. The smell made me feel quiet faint. I spent days, probably another week down there. The constant cries from the wee babies, the foul smell, the sick and the dying, everything was starting to get on my nerves. How I wished and prayed to step foot up on the deck in the fresh air, the wind of freedom sending my long copper coloured hair flying every which way. When I looked around, down under the deck, at the people, I kept having flashes of the starving and the homeless people back in Dublin. It’s unforgettable, the starving people, their faces, all sunken in, the people huddling on the street side. I thanked Thee Lord for finding Da and Tyrone jobs and that we were all safely on our way to Canada. As I thought everything was just grand, and we all, Da, Devin, Tyrone and meself, were going to life happily in our new homeland, poor Devin fell ill. How I miss me sister, it was just as bad as the pain in me belly from the hunger. She grew worse each passing day; she had a fever, and endlessly sweated like wee beads of sweat rolled over her skin like rain drops rolling off flower petals. Poor Devin, she passed away 4 days after she contracted the fever. Captain Oliver ordered all the dead bodies to be thrown over board immediately so diseases wouldn’t spread. Me wish came true, I indeed got to stand upon the deck in the fresh are; the wind of freedom blew through me tangled copper hair. But I paid a magnificent price in exchange. Oh, how I miss me older sister dearly. I dreaded that sound that splash of me sister’s lifeless body hitting the ocean surface, it echoed throughout me head. Me eyes watered, and I couldn’t hold back me tears, they streamed down me face, the pain in me chest closed in and made it real hard to breathe. Tyrone draped an arm around me and I huddled close to him. Once the sailor completed their duty, of discarding the bodies, they scattered all over the deck to proceed with their many other orders. I strolled slowly over to the edge of the ship, where the sailor tossed me sister’s corpse over. Gripping the side so tightly me knuckles went white, I peered downward into the gloomy ocean. I’m not certain what exactly I was searching for, what I recall I didn’t find it. I stood there, gripping the side of the ship till the sun started setting and Da came and got me. I mourned over me sister’s death for the rest of our voyage. One day me brother Tyrone approached me and sat on me bunk with me; a lesser amount of people had to share bunks then, less people were alive, many of loved ones, not only me sister, died on that crossing. I crawled onto Tyrone’s lap and he embraced me. “All this must be hard and confusing for you Keara, you are only ten…” Tyrone murmured, while rocking me like he use to when I was wee. It was comforting sitting there on me brothers lap, I rested me head against his chest. The next thing I remember me Da was waking me up, I had fallen asleep in the comfort of me brother. “Wake up Keara,” me Da’s excited voice had awoken me “We are here, in Canada!” I was overjoyed, over the moon. The ship was full of happiness for once. The mood lifted on the ship, people became happier and talked more so. Although the journey up the St. Lawrence River was slow going, we arrived in a place called Montréal, but only till Da found some land for us. I don’t know how we were able to afford land, but somehow Da got some. We got land! Our land, not at land lords land, but our own! Tyrone and Da had built us a wee home on our land that last the winter. In the spring they built us a proper cabin. Also Da and Tyrone built a barn for the chickens and our cow, which I named Mollie. ~1847~ The canadas is not like Ireland. There are very thick forests, and no endless fields of potatoes. It’s original this new land. I have had numerous of adventures here in me knew home, and probably will have a number of more throughout me life. That’s me story of traveling from me beloved Ireland to me new home land in the canadas. Aye, I do occasionally wish that I am back in Ireland, perhaps maybe someday. And if I ever do get back to Ireland, I will make sure to visit Ma and babe Kacey down by the creek bed. |