3 Sara - 1938 - Sadness

Birds chirped and hopped about on limbs outside the house. The sun was bright as it reached out to chase the night’s shadows away. The echo of doors opening and closing in other houses gave the morning a soft, muffled sound. One of the few cars in town moved down the road toward some job that required something more than walking to work.

Windows were wide open to let in the cool morning air. It was heavy with moisture, promising to be hot and sticky later as the sun rose high over the land. Curtains fluttered in the breeze like wings trying to escape the boredom of the coming day.

Sara looked down at her worn shoes and bit back tears. It was only the second day of school, and the kids in first grade had already made fun of the holes in her shoes and the patches on her dress. The shoes were black with scuff marks all over them and holes in the sides where her small toes would periodically peek out. They pinched her feet as they had been her Christmas present when she had slightly smaller feet. The dress was a dark blue with faded patchwork on it where tears had appeared and then were covered up. She had gotten the dress six months earlier when she had last had a growth spurt. That didn’t say much as she was still one of the shortest girls in her grade.

Her clothes were clean. She was neatly dressed. Her family was not white trash. They were just poor. Every week, her mother washed their clothes faithfully, but they were very worn and threadbare. She had one dress and one pair of shoes. They were getting too small for her as her mother had commented the day before. Oh, she had heard the irritation in the woman’s voice. New clothes meant money to spend on them. With Sara’s little sister only a year from school as well, their mother complained that she needed to work more hours.

Sara wasn’t sure when her mother would find the time to work those extra hours. They lived with their grandfather who was sickly and needed tending to. During the day, their mother nursed her own father and jumped at his every command. At night, their mother went into town to do laundry at the small hotel located on the town square. Before dawn, she returned home and fell asleep until her father woke up and demanded breakfast.

They didn’t know any other life. Both girls had been born in the house owned by their grandfather who had not too sick when their mother, Cynthia, moved back home to have her first child. After her second child had been born, Grandfather began to struggle getting in and out of bed. Now he was practically bedridden, couldn’t go to the washroom himself. A widower, he looked to his oldest daughter to do everything for him, even if it meant neglecting her own children. After all, he gave them a place to live. He deserved to be the one tended to by one and all.

Sara and her sister, Lilly, tended to take care of themselves pretty well. Sara got up everyday and helped Lilly get dressed and then fed her biscuits and milk. Their father wasn’t around much. He traveled as a construction worker, building roads and fences. He showed up every few months or so and brought some money to help, but times were tough, and money did not go far. It didn’t help that the money only came once in a while. Her mother complained each time that it was too small to provide clothing for the three of them. That always resulted in large fights between her parents and their father’s visit cut short as he stormed out in a temper.

Now she was in school and not home all day with her sister. She didn’t want to go to school. At first, Sara had been excited like most children when they began such a grand adventure, but now she wanted to stay home. She didn’t want to face the teasing. The other children had even told her that the little colored kids dressed better than her. How she hated her life. Why couldn’t they have clothes without holes in them or patched up? Why did she have to be looked down upon?

“Hurry up, Sara,” her mother called from the kitchen. “I don’t have all day.” Her voice revealed her irritation.

Sara set her mouth tight. She knew she had no choice, but she was not going to pretend she was happy about it. The world would know she was going against her will. It would know how she felt about being forced to do something she despised so much.

Pulling her hair back with the only barrettes she owned, she picked up her bag that held her cheese sandwich. It was nothing more than a burlap sack, but it was all she had. Her mother refused to buy a school satchel because it cost too much. Why she couldn’t ask their grandfather, Sara couldn’t understand. He had plenty of money. They lived in his big house in town but only had the benefit of a roof over their head. Even the food was not abundant as he only gave her mother a few dollars a week to feed them all. Other children at least had an apple or other fruit in their lunch. Sara only got a piece of fruit during the Christmas holidays.

Her blue eyes scanned the street from the porch where she waited on her mother. The first week of school, her mother wanted to walk her the six blocks to the small building. Then she would be on her own. A part of her looked forward to that. Then she wouldn’t have to listen to her mother tell her what a burden it was as she was so tired. She’d have a chance to be alone in her thoughts.

A call from her grandfather brought a tear to her eye. He needed her mother now. He did not want to wait until her mother walked her to school.

“Sara, do you remember how to get to the school?” her mother called out.

“Yes.” Her answer came out softly. Sara leaned her head against the screen door.

The tense voice floated through the house. “Then you’ll have to go on your own. Your grandfather needs me.”

Sara sighed. She would have to learn to take care of herself. No one else would be there for her.

*****

The school day was over, and Sara felt it hadn’t ended soon enough. As she walked down the steps and onto the sidewalk, she felt the whispers floating around her from the children she passed.

“She could brush her hair.”

“Have you ever seen such ratty clothes?”

“Shouldn’t she go to the black school?”

Tears pricked at Sara’s eyes. They all hated her. They all judged her. She was not good enough for them. If only the ground would swallow her up so she could find peace and happiness away from the judgmental views of the world.

The summer days were winding to an end. The days were still warm though the daylight hours were gradually waning each day. In a few weeks, evening would arrive much sooner and the nights would have a chill in the air.

Sara loved the fall. It was a time between the intense heat of summer and the bitter cold of winter that was like a reprieve between the two harsh seasons. The leaves fell with a promise to return with even brighter colors the next year. The flowers faded with a sad wave as they drooped with a whispered vow to multiply when the spring warmth arrived. It was a time of sighs and preparation for rest.

The walk home began quickly to put distance between her and her classmates, but once the school was out of sight, she slowed down. Yes, she wanted to get away from school quickly, but she also had no desire to get home as quick. Once she got home, her mother would begin issuing orders for chores. Lily would ask her a million questions without catching a breath or allow her to answer. Grandfather would shout for a drink, shout for a handkerchief, or shout just for the sake of shouting. She’d find herself pulled in so many different directions.

As she walked past a small piece of woods that stretched alongside the town, she stopped and peered into the dark shadows. The sounds of squirrels scattering about the first fallen leaves came to her. Sara longed to just walk into the woods and disappear. She could live alone with only the forest animals. She wouldn’t have to be screamed at or mocked anymore. Could she really do it? Could she find the peace she sought by walking into the woods and disappearing? Was happiness found that easy? Could there be peace there?