"I remember my mother
grabbing my baby brother.
I remember her running
with him in her arms.
I remember my father opening
the door to the root cellar."
The first-person narration of a young child recalling a natural disaster that changed her life is both devastating and uplifting. In the beginning, the family was spending the day outdoors on their prairie home. Papa tended to the cattle, and Mama to the weeds. The baby was whimpering and disturbing his sister's quiet reading. From this idyllic moment on, everything changed.
She vividly remembers when the wind came, and the devastation it left in its wake. As it worsened, Papa made sure the cows were inside, Mama grabbed the baby, and they all ran toward the root cellar. DARK. SILENCE. Nothing to do but wait. When the wind was gone, so was their house.
Together, they did what needed to be done. After finding enough food to eat, and while her parents were packing up what they could salvage, she did the dishes. As she did, she created bubbles that resulted in some joy, and laughter. While the laughs didn't change anything that had happened, they really did change everything going forward.
Dorothy Leung’s illustrations, done in pencil and paint, pay homage to the land and the emotions felt in the midst of this heartbreaking event. They perfectly complement this spare and quietly shared memory.
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