toddled along beside Ethel.
“We’ll talk about it later, dear. Right now, we have to hurry to reach our train.”
The engine sat belching steam, beyond the massive gateway. They quickly made their way up the steps and entered the carriage, Ethel clutching two return tickets in her hand. After finding a seat, she settled Elsie beside her. Elsie picked at the needlework on the cape of her navy serge box coat and tugged at her cotton bonnet, causing it to tip and release curls to fall around her freckled face. She wiggled in the seat, parted her cape and quickly straightened her neatly ironed bodice-dress. Wide eyed with a raised brow, she looked at her mother.
“I’m good today, Mummy. See? I’m better, ’n’t I?” Elsie asked through tears.
“I think you are, sweetheart.” Ethel put her arm around Elsie to give her a hug. “And that makes me happy.” Elsie’s bonnet suddenly took on the appearance of a tilted halo, and Ethel smiled.
“I’m not sick, I’m not, Mummy,” Elsie said.
“I’m glad you don’t have those nasty old headaches anymore,” Ethel replied.
“My scarlet fever’s all better.”
Ethel laughed. “It’s been a long time since you’ve been sick. Your dolly doesn’t get hugged nearly as much now that you’re feeling better.” She drew Elsie close.
Elsie rummaged through Ethel’s bag to retrieve her doll and a couple of picture books. Ethel felt her push tightly against her side as she snuggled under her arm. After a bit of time, she stretched out on the seat and went to sleep. Ethel noticed how relaxed she looked in spite of the train’s noise and jostling.
The doctor’s news had been harsh. It was just unthinkable. She simply couldn’t bear it. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She reached over and pushed a moist lock of hair from Elsie’s brow.
“I can’t think of life without you, Elsie,” Ethel whispered as she rested her head back against the seat. She’d be sad to leave the family, but now Elsie…it was too much. Sobs rose in her throat and she swallowed them back. Oh God, how could she do this?
Tom’s voice echoed, “It’s a chance of a lifetime…I mean, to go to Canada with the opportunity for jobs. Everything I’ve read boasts a land of plenty. Their printed posters say it’s a perfect place to live, with plenty of land for everybody and a chance to make a good life.”
Ethel said softly, “But, without you, Elsie, how can we even enjoy any of that? It’d be like leaving a piece of ourselves back here.”
That’s exactly what she would be doing, and it grieved her. She sighed and longed for the quietness of her church. More than anything else now, she needed to sit in her familiar pew and ask God to help her accept this decision and do the impossible.
3. Looking Ahead
“Mum, I have to talk to you.” Ethel walked into the kitchen, interrupting Elizabeth Kemp’s humming as she sat at the table peeling potatoes. Elsie ran to play with Evie, her little auntie.
“What is it? You’re all right to travel, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but…it’s not me, Mum. It’s Elsie. I’ve got bad news from the doctor.” Ethel turned her head and began to sob. “She’s developed a heart problem…the doctor suspects from the scarlet fever. She can’t come to Canada with me.”
“There, there, dear.” Mum laid her potato and knife on the oilcloth-covered surface and walked over to Ethel. Wrapping her arms around Ethel, she said, “How can that be possible? Are you sure you heard him right?”
“That’s what he said,” Ethel said, leaning into her mum. “And he won’t change his mind. He won’t even consider me waiting for another year until Elsie’s stronger. He says I should go now and help Tom prepare a home for all of us.”
The kitchen with its familiar shiny cupboard tops and organized dishes and pans reminded Ethel of the many good meals and conversations and the love shared in this room. Today, it seemed like a haven away from the cruel choices of life.
Mum stepped back and placed wrinkled hands on her hips. “Then, my dear, that’s exactly what you must do. Elsie will stay with us. Your father and I will take good care of her. It won’t be forever.”
Ethel looked at her mother’s favourite pose. She’d seen this other times whenever Mum was serious about doing something difficult.
“It seems like it.” Ethel wiped her nose with her handkerchief. “Anyway, it’s just too much to ask of you, with your young ones and all. Why, you’d have both Evie and Elsie at almost the same age. That’d be enough to drive you down the road.” Ethel shook her head.
“The other children can help,” Mum said. “We can handle it.”
“I can’t bear to think of it.” Ethel slumped down in a chair beside the kitchen table. “I don’t know what I’d do without Elsie. And I’m so afraid. What if—”
“Now, now, enough of that,” Mum said. “You’ve plenty to think about without the what ifs in life.”
“You know how it hurts.” Ethel wiped a tear away. “I remember like it was yesterday when our Will died with a weak heart—and him so young.”
“I remember too, lass…our firstborn,” Mum said. “But this is different. You’ll see Elsie again.” Her voice softened. “I know it won’t be easy for you, but think how complicated it would be if you had to cope with Elsie’s health during the crossing, and then all the settling once you arrive, never mind getting her away to school in the next year or so.” She placed a loaf of bread on the table. “And you don’t know how Tom’s going to be when you get there.”
“Tom’s all right, Mum,” Ethel countered. “I can tell by his letters. We’d manage.” Ethel folded her handkerchief. “I just can’t bear to go on without her. Maybe there’ll be more organized care in Canada and—”
“Ethel, rest assured we’ll work out things for Elsie right here at home. Your pa and I, we’ll get along fine.” Mum turned and faced Ethel. “Now Canada’s another story; it’s a colony. Don’t count on better ways. I know you’re very taken with all the Canadian propaganda, but you have to realize the country isn’t established like England.” She leaned over and held Ethel’s hand. “But we’ll talk about that later. Your father is going to be home for supper, and the table won’t be laid if I don’t get to it.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “You go wash up.”
After Mum cleared the supper dishes, Pa and the younger children played on the floor in front of the cook-stove. “Come on, lass,” she said, “sit down and have your tea. I think we’d better talk about Canada, a wee bit.” She put the teapot on the table. “There are lots of things you will find the same over there. For instance, a church will be as important to you in Canada as it has been here. Friends will be a grand support for you. Family will be of the utmost importance. Learning about life in general will hold as many surprises as it did for you here. And that’s only a few similarities. But, there’s another side that you will discover.” Mum picked up the salt and pepper shakers and placed them on the cupboard shelf. “I’ve read about Canada being the Wild West, a frontier land. Guns, bears, Indians, buffaloes and tar-paper, even sod houses. It sounds like another world.”
