Free Lesia's Dream by Laura Langston

etched under her closed eyes.
    â€œMama! Mama?” Lesia touched her mother’s forehead. It was cool, not warm. Her chest was rising and falling. She was breathing. Bozhe! She was breathing.
    â€œLessie, Mama okay?” Sonia called from the garden.
    â€œMama’s fine, darling. You play now.” Papa, where are you when I need you!?
    After what seemed like an eternity, Mama opened her eyes. “I must have tripped,” she whispered.
    â€œYou didn’t trip at all,” Lesia said fiercely. “You fainted. It’s the anaemia again, isn’t it?”
    Mama struggled to sit up but the baby set her off balance.
    â€œDon’t stand yet,” Lesia ordered. “Sit a while.” When the colour had finally returned to Mama’s face, she gently asked, “Is the baby okay?”
    â€œThe baby’s fine.” Mama rubbed her belly reassuringly before grabbing Lesia’s arm and struggling to her feet. “Carrying a child has never been easy for me. And it’s harder still now. But there’s no sense complaining. Nothing can be done to change things. As God ordains, so it shall be.”
    Nothing can be done to change things.
She had grown up with Mama saying those words. It may have been true in Ukraine, but it certainly wasn’t true in Canada.
    â€œYou’re wrong, Mama.” She watched Sonia playing with her stick and the worms. “I can go to work plastering.”
    When Mama protested, Lesia held up her hand and stopped her. “Remember what Pearl said? When the weather turns cold, it will be impossible to travel the land and find work, never mind walk twelve miles to the store in Hazelridge. If I leave now, I can earn enough for flour and potatoes, maybe even a few eggs. I’ll take my baskets too. Maybe I’ll sell some.” Surely not everyone was like their neighbour.
    Mama looked panicked. “I need you here. There’s Sonia to care for. And I’m too weak to work the land.”
    Lesia laid a reassuring hand on her arm. “Rest. Sonia can rest with you. The land can wait. I’ve almost finished the third acre.” She hesitated. “You are weak, Mama. Maybe even too weak to give birth. We need to get you strong. If I leave in the next few days, I’ll be back by the end of July. With
food!
There’s no other choice.”
    Mama’s shoulders slumped. She looked defeated, beaten. She knew Lesia was right.
    Andrew showed up the day before she had planned to leave. Lesia had just finished watering the garden when she heard the
clomp, clomp
of animal hooves on packed earth. A wagon pushed through the scrubby bush. Mama rushed outside, waving her arms excitedly in the air.
    Lesia hurried over as Andrew jumped down from the wagon. He removed his hat and smiled. “Hello, Lesia.”
    She had forgotten how blue his eyes were. And what a warm smile he had. “Hello, Andrew.”
    Pearl was there, and so was Minnie, holding babyMary and looking impossibly cool and well fed in a clean white blouse and pale green skirt. They must have been up before dawn to make the nineteenmile trip. Lesia brushed the hair from her eyes and wished she’d had a chance to wash. Minnie always made her feel dirty.
    â€œWe came to check on you!” Pearl hoisted herself from the wagon and handed Mama a basket covered with a red-checkered towel. “There are a dozen eggs and cream, some pyrohy and fresh bread.”
    â€œHow wonderful!” Mama clutched the basket to her chest. “Thank you.”
    Lesia’s heart jumped. Now that they had food, maybe she wouldn’t have to go out to work! Maybe Papa would return before the eggs ran out and she could stay and clear more land.
    â€œYou must see what we’ve done,” Lesia said excitedly. “We have a garden and a root cellar and an oven. Mama and Sonia plastered the house and we’ve almost cleared—”
    â€œUncle Andrew,” Minnie