Free Lesia's Dream by Laura Langston Page A

interrupted with a whine, “can you help me down?” She handed the baby to her mother.
    â€œOf course.”
    Minnie reached for Andrew’s hand before daintily alighting from the wagon. Trust Minnie, Lesia thought impatiently. Interrupting her when she wasin the middle of good news. One of the oxen decided at that moment to shuffle his feet. Minnie wrinkled her nose in disgust as the dust floated into her face. Lesia hid her smile behind her hand.
    â€œWhere are Victoria and Anastasia?” Mama asked as Minnie rubbed vigorously at her face. “And Luka and Symon?”
    â€œThe twins would never sit still long enough for the trip,” Pearl replied with a grin. “And the girls wanted to stay behind and go berry-picking.”
    Satisfied that her face was dust-free, Minnie stared at the dugout. “What is that?” she asked scornfully.
    â€œEnough now,” Pearl chided as she jiggled a suddenly fussy Mary. “You were born in a burdei just like that only days after we came to Canada.” Holding the baby close, she followed Mama inside.
    Andrew led the oxen to a patch of shade and went to get water. That left Lesia and Minnie alone.
    Minnie’s hp curled. “This is a dirt hovel, and the plaster job is terrible. Where’s the fence? All
proper
houses have fences.”
    Lesia was stunned into silence. In the homeland, all Ukrainian houses did have fences. But this was Canada. And there were more important things than fences to tend to.
    â€œYou give the rest of us a bad name,” Minniecontinued in a low, mean voice. “Townsfolk talk about the poor, uneducated Ukrainians. ‘Dirty continentals’ they call us. That’s you they’re talking about. We’re clean and rich. We have a fine house and acres of cultivated fields.”
    â€œStop it!” Lesia wanted to reach out and smack the self-satisfied look from Minnie’s face.
    Minnie sneered. “You have nothing and you’ll always have nothing. You should have stayed in the homeland. You’ll never make it here.”
    â€œWe’ve got three acres almost cleared!” Lesia retorted. “And I can read and write now, and some day we’ll have animals too and a fancy house and—!”
    â€œSome
day.” Minnie giggled and rolled her eyes skyward. “You know the rules. Thirty acres cleared in three years. You’ll never make it.” Andrew was coming. Minnie turned her back to him and whispered one last taunt—“Even with your big, fat muscles!”—and then she flounced away.
    â€œAre you all right?” Andrew came to a sudden stop beside her.
    â€œFine.” Lesia forced herself to smile. She was fine. She would be fine. Minnie was wrong.
    â€œCome and walk with me,” he said.
    She led Andrew to the garden, chatting about the bug problem and how she was hand-picking threetimes a day to keep them under control. She showed him the bee skeps and said she was praying nightly for a colony of wild bees to settle.
    After complimenting her on the size of her kale and the slim stalks of garlic greens, Andrew reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. “You said you could read in Ukrainian?”
    Lesia’s eyes flashed. “And write now too!”
    â€œGood. This is for you.”
    There were a dizzying number of stamps on the envelope, and though the writing was in Ukrainian, it was heavily angled and hard to read. Lesia ripped it open and withdrew a single sheet of paper.
    My dearest Lesia, Dmytro writes this for me as I ask. After explaining to Andrew that Dmytro was Baba’s cousin, Lesia continued to read the letter out loud. I must know—are you safe? Is Canada happy for you? Is Mama well? You can write now, yes? Please tell me the news of your land of milk and honey. Love, Baba.
    A lump of tears swelled in her throat. Lesia clutched the letter to her chest. How she missed dear Baba! She couldn’t wait