Free The Adventures of Nicholas by Helen Siiteri

NICHOLAS, THE WANDERING ORPHAN  
    LONG, long time ago, in a village by the sea, there lived a young fisherman and his family—his loving wife, his small son Nicholas, and Kati, a baby girl. Their home was a little cottage built of heavy stone blocks to keep out the freezing north wind. It was a cheerful place in spite of the hardships, because all the hearts there were loving and happy.
    On cold winter nights, after the fisherman had come home from his hard day’s work, the little family would gather around the fireplace. Father would light his pipe and stretch his tired legs. Mother would keep a watchful eye on the two children, her knitting needles busily clicking.

    One night Nicholas was trimming a tiny piece of wood with scraps from his mother’s knitting,
    while Kati looked with wide blue eyes at the toy her brother was making for her. Mother smiled as she watched the children playing happily together. But Father shook his head saying, “I’d rather see Nicholas down at the boats with me, learning to mend a net, than fussing with little girls’ toys. Now when I was his age…”
    “Hush,” whispered Mother. “Nicholas is hardly more than a baby himself. Time enough for him to be a fisherman when he’s too old to play with his baby sister.”
    “True enough,” said the father. “He’s a good lad, and he’ll be a better man for learning to be kind to little ones.”
    Life might have gone on in this way but for the happenings of one stormy night. Father was late, and Kati was sick with a fever. Mother knelt beside Nicholas and looked into his bright blue eyes. “Kati is very ill,” she said, “and I can wait no longer for your father. I must go for the doctor myself. Sit beside your sister, Nicholas, and take care not to let the fire burn out.”
    Quickly kissing him, she wrapped a woolen shawl over her blond hair and went out into the bitter storm. Nicholas watched as his mother anxiously looked toward the sea for a sign of the fishing boat. Seeing nothing, she turned and walked swiftly down the windswept path.
    Kati had fallen asleep. Nicholas sat beside her, dipping a cloth into a bowl of cool water and placing it on her feverish forehead, as he had seen his mother do. Slowly the hours went by. It wasn’t until Kati’s forehead had grown cooler, and then cold, that Nicholas allowed himself to
    drop off to sleep.
    When the villagers found them in the morning, Nicholas was keeping watch by Kati’s side. No one among them could find the courage to tell Nicholas that his baby sister had died of the fever—and that his mother had been struck by a falling tree as she was hurrying though the forest in the storm.
    A few hours later they learned that the father’s small fishing boat had overturned and he had drowned at sea.
    Nicholas had become a homeless orphan.

THE FIRST HOME  
    HE kindhearted women of the village gathered at the ropemaker’s house to talk about the orphan Nicholas, and what would become of him.
    “Of course,” said the ropemaker’s wife, “the boy cannot be left to go hungry or uncared for, but we have six little ones of our own. We have taken him in only until another place can be found.”
    “Yes,” answered plump Mistress Larsen, “but now that winter has set in, no family knows for certain when the fishing boats can go out again. We are all worried. We have so little food left.”
    The women shivered and drew closer to the comfortable log fire. Greta Vogel arose and looked into the fire thoughtfully. “We could take him for a while,” she murmured. “We have only the three children, and Nicholas can sleep on the extra cot in the storeroom.”

    A sigh of relief spread through the little gathering. “But,” she added quickly, “I think everyone
    in the village should help out with Nicholas.”
    “Quite right,” spoke up another. “Why can’t we agree that each of us here will take Nicholas for a year and then let him change to another family?”
    Greta Vogel