Free A Harvest of Hope by Lauraine Snelling

and the train slowed for a stop, bringing her back to the present. She had actually voiced her concern to Mrs. Korsheski, when she’d not even admitted it to herself. What was it the nurse had said? Her exact words?
    â€œYou will do well either way. Or both ways. Sometimes we can have our cake and eat it too. And keep in mind that what God plans for you is far better than what you can plan for yourself.”
    It was the last part she’d tried to put aside. Her mother had believed that too, and look what it got her.
    An early trip to heaven to be with her beloved? What is so wrong with that?
    But she had wanted to stay with her children. She’d heard her say so.
    Tears flooded her eyes again. What had her mother seen, known, to be able to smile like that? Oh, Mama, I miss you so, and I sure do hope you were right about heaven. After the stop and two passengers had settled into seats, she wrapped her coat around her and, settling her head on the windowsill, fell into a light sleep that broke every time they stopped. She had known there would be many stops, but she’d never imagined there’d be this many.

    Early Sunday morning she woke to find a little boy standing in front of her, staring. She shook herself awake and sat up.
    â€œBertie, don’t bother the lady.” The woman across the aisle smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, miss.”
    â€œHe startled me is all.” Miriam watched the boy throw himself against his mother’s lap, as if she’d scolded him, and then peer at her from his safe place. “How old is he?”
    â€œBertie is three. Show the nice lady how old you are.” The little man’s tongue came out and he stared at his hand, seeming to will his fingers to obey. When he got three up, he grinned at his mother. “Very good.” From the looks of the woman, it wouldn’t be terribly long before Bertie had either a new baby brother or sister in his life.
    â€œWhere are you going?”
    â€œTo Blessing, just west of Grand Forks, North Dakota. What about you?”
    â€œWe are going farther, to Bismarck. Have you been there?”
    â€œNo, Blessing is the farthest west I’ve been.” Not that she’d been east of Chicago either. “Will you be staying there?”
    â€œYes. Bertie’s papa is already there. He says I will love the town and the people. But I’ve never been away from my family before, and this is so far away.”
    â€œFrom where? I mean, where was home?” She smiled at the little boy, which sent him burying his face in his mother’s skirt again.
    â€œWe live in Rochester, south of the Twin Cities. Or rather, we lived there.” She sniffed as if she were about to cry.
    â€œLeaving is hard.”
    Just then the whistle blew again, and Bertie covered his ears with both hands.
    While his mother comforted him, Miriam looked out the window.
    â€œGrand Forks. Next stop Grand Forks.” The conductor made his way through the car and stopped beside her. “Not too far to Blessing now, miss. You ever eaten at the boardinghouse there?”
    â€œThat is where I’ll be living.”
    â€œFine place, Blessing.” He wagged his head. “That little town sure is growing.”
    Miriam watched him sway on down the aisle. Funny he should mention the boardinghouse. She wondered if the others had moved her things over to the new wing yet. Soon she would be there again. Was she feeling anticipation or dread?
    Blessing did indeed come soon, as the conductor had promised. The train jolted and wheezed to a stop.
    â€œThank you for traveling with us, miss,” the conductor said with a smile as he helped her down. “I think there is a young man waiting for you.” He nodded over his shoulder. “I know him. Trygve Knutson. He’s a good man, a real fine young man.” He tipped his hat to her and reached back for her carpetbag. “You had a couple of larger boxes