Free More Perfect than the Moon by Patricia MacLachlan Page B

to buy a new journal.”
    “Already? You’ve filled up that journal already ? Didn’t know there was that much going on here.”
    I smiled at Papa.
    “There isn’t. I make up things.”
    “What things?”
    “Dreams. Wishes. What I want.”
    Papa grinned.
    “That is a good way to fill it up. Maybe some of those things will come to be. One of the dreams. One of the wishes.”
    Papa kissed the top of my head. Out in the paddock Grandfather and Caleb cleaned and filled the cows’ water tubs. Redwings flew in a wave over Caleb and Grandfather and the cows like a veil. A cloud passed by the sun and it was dark, then light again.
    “Sarah. How are you feeling?” called Papa.
    Mama walked out of the house. Grandfather and Caleb came to the fence.
    Mama smiled. Slowly she walked toward us.
    “Better,” said Mama. “I missed dinner, didn’t I? And breakfast.”
    Suddenly Mama stopped, putting up her hand to brush back her hair.
    “Jacob?” Her voice sounded faraway.
    “Sarah!” cried Papa.
    He began to run toward her. Caleb jumped over the fence and ran, too, but
it was Papa who caught Mama as she fainted.
     
    I stood so still. Papa carried Mama to the wagon.
    “Caleb! Hitch up the horses. You’ll drive to Dr. Sam’s. Cassie, get a blanket!”
    “I’ll help,” called Grandfather, touching me as he hurried by.
    He turned and spoke harshly to me.
    “Cassie! Blankets!”
    His voice was strange. Stranger than I’d ever heard. I ran to the house, and the dogs began barking. I grabbed a blanket off Mama’s bed and ran past Lottie and Nick.
    “Hush!” I said to them.
    I could feel tears coming down my face.
    The horses were hitched up. Caleb climbed up to drive. Grandfather and Papa wrapped Mama in the blanket. Her face was as pale as summer clouds.
    “Call Dr. Sam! Call Anna,” said Papa as Caleb began to drive away. “Call now.”
    “Go. Go,” said Grandfather.
    He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the house with him as the wagon turned out of the yard and down the road.
    He picked up the phone with one hand. With the other he gathered me close to him. I buried my face in his shirt and never heard him tell the operator to call Dr. Sam.
    “Anna wants to talk to you, Cassie.”
    My sister’s voice sounded faint and faraway.
    “Cass? I know you’re worried, but Sarah will be fine. Don’t worry. Sam will take care of her.”
    I started to cry again.
    “It’s all right, Cassie,” Grandfather said.
    “No,” I said, looking up into his face. It was as pale as Mama’s.
    “Maybe it is my fault. She told me not to watch her. I wish I hadn’t watched her!”
    I cried until Grandfather’s shirt was wet with my tears.
     
    Grandfather and I fed the cows and the sheep while we waited. I tossed grain to the chickens, the chicks of Mama’s chickens from long ago. I liked the sounds they made, happy and peaceful clucking, the same every day. Comforting. I remembered the first time I’d fed the chickens. I was so small, and when I was scared Papa lifted me up and up and up above the chickens and Mama laughed.
    All of a sudden I remembered my papa’s words: sometimes the hopes and dreams we write about may come to be. I tossed the last of the grain to the chickens and ran to get my journal. I lay on the daybed and wrote.
     
----
    Mama and Papa and Caleb drove to town because Mama was sick. But she isn’t sick. She is well and happy and her cheeks are rose colored again. When she comes home, she brings me a small gift. A perfect gift. More perfect than the moon.
----
     
    I laid my head on the pillow and read my words. A perfect gift. More perfect than the moon. I liked those words. They were good words.
    I slept then. I dreamed about a perfect gift.
     
    “Cassie. Cassie.”
    Grandfather was shaking my shoulder.
    “You’re dreaming, Cass. Wake up. Anna wants to talk to you.”
    “Is Mama all right?”
    “Sarah’s fine.”
    I ran to the phone.
    “Anna?” I could hardly catch my breath.
    “Cassie,