Free Accidentally Amish by Olivia Newport Page B

They were so close to Philadelphia. By the end of the day they should be on solid ground and out of the cramped quarters where disease thrived. Perhaps Verona would start to believe again that a better life lay ahead, not behind.
    “Anna,” he called, “wait for me.” He recognized the posture of her reluctance, but she did stop and turn toward him.
    “I see Christian.” She pointed. “He’s right up there, close to the bow.”
    Jakob followed the line of her finger and saw his towheaded son transfixed as he watched the Pennsylvania coastline with its evidence of settlements and promise of civilization. The boy looked thin, he realized. All the children did. Jakob was suddenly alarmed by his own acquiescence to what the journey had done to his family. Clothing hung on all their frames as if it were made for husky strangers rather than stitched by Verona’s fingers for their familiar frames.
    But it was over. They had survived. All of them. Many families around them bore sickness compounded by death, but the Beyelers were whole and present. Moving to a new life was not for the fainthearted. If they could survive the journey, they could survive homesteading their own land and living in the freedom of their own beliefs.
    “Are we going to have real beds in Philadelphia?” Anna wanted to know.
    Jakob stroked the back of her head. “You’ll still have to sleep with your sisters, but at least the bed won’t be riding the waves of the sea.”
    “Good.”
    They reached Christian. The three of them stood, wordless in a sacred moment, peering ahead and scrutinizing the view for any sign of the port city.
    “Are we going to have a garden in Philadelphia?” Anna asked.
    “No, not in Philadelphia,” Jakob answered. “We will only stay there to get the papers we need. Then we will go to our own land.
Die Bauerei.
The farm.”
    “Will we have a big house?”
    “Not at first. But someday, if God blesses us. We will be with other Amish families, and we will be grateful for whatever God gives us.”
    “Will Lisbetli have to be baptized?” Anna asked. “Will I?”
    “Not until you are all grown up and decide to join the church.”
    “I’m going to join the church as soon as I can,” Christian announced. “I already believe in my heart.”
    “I’m glad to hear that.”
    “There’s Barbara.” Anna pointed.
    The ship listed to one side as it turned. Anna slid toward Jakob, but it was Christian who caught her.

    Verona rubbed circles in the center of Lisbetli’s back, a touch that had soothed the little girl since she was a newborn. With her other hand, Verona coaxed the baby to sip water from one of the three tin cups the family shared. Lisbetli had little weight to spare.
    At her mother’s knee, Maria picked up the loose nail she had gripped every day of this journey. Near the base of the berth’s wooden frame, she scratched a mark into the wood.
    “How many is that,
Mamm
?” Maria asked.

    Verona did not have to think to answer. She had counted every day on the sea, too. “Eighty-three.”
    “That’s a lot, isn’t it?”
    Verona nodded. “We’re almost there. Try some letters now.”
    Maria put the nail down and poised her finger over the coating of dirt on the floor. “Sing,
Mamm.
”
    Verona began to hum a quiet hymn, adjusting first her
kapp
, then Maria’s. The little girl made four tedious strokes until she formed an
M
. The truth was Verona recognized only the most basic words and could barely spell her own name. She would have to depend on the schooling of the older children to help Maria.
    “I’m hungry,
Mamm.
”
    Verona had little food to offer. She unwrapped a napkin and handed Maria the last piece of salted pork. The ship’s rations had been far from adequate, and Verona early had formed the habit of saving some of her own meals for the inevitable request from one of her children.
    “Let’s go find
Daed.
” The distraction might keep Maria from saying she was hungry again. Verona