Karen's Pilgrim Read online

  “Here we are,” said Remember’s mother. “Welcome to our home.”

  Remember’s clothes did not look like my clothes. And her house did not look like either of my two houses. Her house was all gray wood. Inside was a dirt floor. Still, it felt nice and cozy. It smelled very good too.

  “What smells so delicious?” asked Mommy.

  “We are cooking duck with fruit and spices,” said Remember’s mother. “It has been cooking since early morning.”

  “Will we make the corn bread now?” asked Remember.

  “Yes,” replied her mother. “Perhaps Karen will help us.”

  “Sure,” I said. “Just tell me what to do.”

  It was my job to measure. I measured the water that went into a pot. I poured in the cornmeal. Remember and I took turns stirring. Remember said that when the batter was ready, the bread would bake in the oven. The oven was outside.

  While we stirred, I asked Remember more questions. I asked about cheate bread.

  “It is a funny name for bread,” I said.

  Remember said no one knew why it was called that. It just was.

  “The orientation show said you had to leave your home in England and sail all the way here to be free. Do you miss your home a lot?” I asked.

  “Yes, I miss my friends. And the voyage was very difficult. I was sick most of the time. It took many months for me to get well,” said Remember. “But my life here is good. I have made new friends and my parents are happy.”

  “We needed to come here to be free to worship the way God shows us. It was worth the long trip and many hardships,” said Remember’s mother.

  I asked more questions and listened carefully to every answer. I needed the information for my school report. But even if I were not working on a report, I would still have wanted to know all I could about this Pilgrim girl named Remember. I wanted to know just because I liked her.

  Snap!

  “Shall we take Karen and her mother for a walk before Father comes home for the evening meal?” asked Remember’s mother.

  “Did you say evening? We have not even had lunch yet!” I said.

  Mommy looked at her watch and gasped. “Karen, we better go meet Seth and Andrew. We can come back later.”

  We excused ourselves and ran to the Visitors’ Center where Seth and Andrew were waiting. The four of us ate a quick, late lunch at the Visitors’ Center. We had not eaten since our cheate-bread snack, so we were hungry.

  “How do you like Plimoth Plantation?” Seth asked.

  “I am having a great time,” I said. “I made a new friend named Remember.”

  “I helped saw wood. Then I went to where a real American Indian lived,” said Andrew.

  “The Indians who lived near the village were a great help to the Pilgrims,” said Seth. “One Indian named Squanto even lived with the Pilgrims. He taught them all about farming and hunting.”

  This sounded important for my school report. I would have to ask Seth about the Indians later.

  “Who wants to see some more of the village?” asked Mommy.

  “Me!” said Andrew and I together.

  Seth and Andrew headed toward a group of men gathered around the entrance to one of the buildings.

  Mommy and I walked around. I saw lots of other families who were visiting. But I saw lots of Pilgrim role players too. When I watched them, I forgot about the visitors.

  I wondered what Remember was doing. “Can we go back to see Remember and her mother?” I asked.

  “Okay. Let’s see if we can find their house,” Mommy replied.

  When we found the house, Remember was just coming out the door. She was carrying a wooden bucket.

  “Remember!” I called. “Hi! It’s me. I mean, it is I, Karen! What are you doing?”

  “I am going to milk our goat. You may come and watch, if it please you,” Remember answered.

  “Truly!” I replied.

  Remember’s mother had used that word a few times. I tried to say it just the way she had. I was practicing to be a role player. It would be fun to be a role player with Remember. I would have to ask her about that.

  Remember was already at the goat pen. The goat was so cute. She was brown and tan with a white spot on her side.

  “What is her name?” I asked.

  “We call her Fillpail,” said Remember. “Come, I will show you how I milk her.”

  Fillpail was cute. But she was crabby. The first time Remember tried to milk her, she kicked. Remember jumped out of the way just in time. Finally Fillpail calmed down. The milk squirted loudly into Remember’s wooden bucket.

  Just as Remember was finishing, I heard a grunting sound in the next pen. A big, dark, hairy animal poked its snout through the fence.

  “What kind of animal is that? It sounds like a pig. And it has a pig’s snout. But it does not look like any pig I have ever seen,” I said.

  “It is the only kind of pig we know,” said Remember.

  Just then I thought of something important. I had forgotten to take pictures! I took my camera out of my knapsack and started snapping.

  “I need pictures for my school report,” I explained to Remember.

  I took pictures of Remember milking Fillpail. I tried to take pictures of the pig. But he was not very cooperative. As soon as I came near him, he turned and trotted away.

  Remember found some scraps and held them out to the pig. He came running. Snap. Snap. I got two excellent shots.

  “Can I get pictures of your house now?” I asked when we were inside again.

  “Of course,” replied Remember’s mother. “After that, you may help us lay the table, if you would be so kind.”

  I took some more pictures, then helped Remember and her mother set the table. They used wooden plates and bowls and spoons. Their drinking cups were made of clay or metal.

  “Where are the forks?” I asked.

  “We do not have forks. We use knives, spoons, and our hands to eat,” said Remember.

  “I like to eat with my hands,” I said.

  When the table was set, I noticed that some other families were at the door, looking in. I also noticed that it was getting dark outside.

  “It is time for us to go, Karen,” said Mommy.

  I wished I could spend more time with Remember. I really liked her.

  “Thank you for helping me, Karen,” she said.

  “Come see us again,” said Remember’s mother.

  Mommy and I said good-bye and headed for the Visitors’ Center. When we got there, Andrew was in the middle of a big yawn. We had all had a busy day.

  Souvenirs

  We were up early again on Sunday. After breakfast Seth drove us to the water to see Plymouth Rock.

  “I would not want to miss seeing that,” he said.

  It looked like an ordinary rock to me. Only it was big and had the number 1620 carved in it.

  “It is believed that this rock is near the very spot where the Pilgrims set foot in Plymouth,” said Mommy.

  Suddenly the rock did not look so ordinary. Now it looked special. I closed my eyes and made believe I was a Pilgrim girl stepping on the land for the first time. I made believe I was Remember.

  “Can we go back to the village?” I asked when I opened my eyes again. “Perchance I will see Remember.”

  “Per-what?” asked Andrew.

  “Perchance. That is the Pilgrim word for maybe,” I replied. (It is another word Remember’s mother had used.)

  “We can take a quick walk around the village. Then we should go to the crafts center,” said Seth. “Things there are made just the way they were made in the seventeenth century. Next door is a shop where we can buy souvenirs.”

  As soon as I heard souvenirs, I said, “Let’s go!”

  At the village some people were singing a hymn. We stood and listened. Then I headed for Remember’s house. She was inside stirring something that smelled very good.

  “Good day!” said Remember’s mother.

  “
How fare thee, Karen?” asked Remember.

  “I fare very well,” I replied. “What are you cooking?”

  “I am helping to make Indian corn pudding. It is Indian corn cooked with spices, fruit, and milk,” said Remember.

  It smelled delicious. Andrew and I wanted to taste it. But Mommy and Seth said it was time to go. Once again I had to say good-bye to Remember. This time I did not expect to see her again.

  I was feeling sad on the way to the crafts house. But once we got there, I did not have time to be sad. There was so much going on.

  A woman was weaving cloth. A man was making a table. Someone else was making a pitcher out of clay.

  We watched everything and talked to the people working. Then we headed for the museum shop.

  I wanted to buy souvenirs for three people: Hannie, Nancy, and me. I saw my own present right away.

  “Mommy, look at that poppet doll. May I get it, please?” I said.

  It looked just like the doll I had seen on Remember’s bed. It was made of white cloth with a face embroidered on it. The doll was wearing a brown dress and a white apron.

  “Mommy, please!” I said.

  I held out the doll. Mommy looked at the price.

  “It is very expensive, Karen. I do not think you can afford to buy it,” said Mommy.

  I looked at the price. It was expensive. Even if I spent all of my money and did not buy anything for Hannie and Nancy, I still would not have enough.

  I gave the doll a hug and put it back on the shelf. I looked at the other souvenirs. I saw some very good ones. I found a bag of clay marbles, a quill pen with a beautiful feather, and an ink packet to go with the pen. I thought these would be good souvenirs for my presentation. I bought them for myself. Then I bought two more bags of marbles, one for Hannie and one for Nancy. I had a little money left over, so I bought three postcards, one each for Hannie and Nancy and me.

  I also picked up some free Plimoth Plantation brochures. They had color pictures and lots of information. I thought they would be very helpful for my school report.

  “It is time to head back to Stoneybrook,” said Seth. “We do not want to get back too late.”

  The ride home went fast. That is because I slept most of the way. And I had a wonderful dream. I dreamed I was a Pilgrim child. Remember was my big sister. The year was 1627.

  No Fair!

  When I woke up on Monday morning, I was no longer in Plymouth in 1627. I had returned to my real life in Stoneybrook, Connecticut. It was time to get ready for school.

  I wrapped the two bags of marbles in bright-colored tissue paper. I taped a Plimoth Plantation postcard on each one. I was sure these gifts would make Hannie and Nancy gigundoly happy.

  When Nancy and I reached school, Hannie was already there. I gave my friends their gifts.

  “These marbles are cool, Karen. Thank you,” said Nancy.

  “I’ve never seen clay marbles before,” said Hannie. “And the postcard is really pretty too. Thanks.”

  “I wish you could have come on my trip,” I said. “It was so much fun. I made friends with a twelve-year-old Pilgrim girl. And look what I got for my presentation.”

  I pulled out the quill pen and the ink packet.

  “This is the kind of pen the Pilgrims used,” I said.

  Suddenly Pamela was standing next to me.

  “I got the same pen and three different colored ink packets,” she said. “I brought them to show Ms. Colman today. And look what else I have.”

  She pulled the pen and three ink packets out of her school bag. Then she pulled out a bag of marbles. And then she pulled one more thing out of her bag. A poppet doll.

  “Isn’t she cute?” said Pamela. “Did you get one too?”

  “I was going to,” I said. “But the girl in front of me bought the last one.”

  I do not like to lie. But I did not want to tell Pamela the doll was too expensive for me. I would tell my friends the truth later.

  “Too bad for you,” said Pamela.

  Just then Ms. Colman came into the room. Pamela was about to show her the souvenirs when I stopped her.

  “Pamela, I know you are going to show those things to Ms. Colman. But you are not going to use them all in your presentation, right?” I said.

  “Wrong,” Pamela replied. “I want to show all my Plimoth Plantation souvenirs.”

  “Could you please not show the marbles or the pen-and-ink set? Those are the things I am going to present,” I said.

  “Too bad again,” said Pamela. “Why should I not show them when I have them?”

  “Because you have the poppet doll. That is special enough,” I replied.

  “But my presentation will be more special with all my souvenirs,” said Pamela. She turned and walked to Ms. Colman’s desk.

  I was so mad. If Pamela showed all her souvenirs, then I would have nothing special to show. And Pamela’s presentation was going to be on Monday. Mine would not be until Tuesday. Who would want to see the same things twice?

  It was no fair!

  Meanie-mo

  At recess I told my friends the truth about the poppet doll.

  “I could not spend that much money on a souvenir either,” said Nancy.

  “Me neither,” said Hannie. “Maybe Pamela will change her mind about the souvenirs. Maybe if you ask really nicely.”

  I decided to try. Again. I ran across the playground to the swings. That is where Pamela, Jannie, and Leslie were playing.

  “Hi,” I said. “Did Ms. Colman like your souvenirs?”

  “She loved them,” replied Pamela.

  “I bet she liked the poppet doll the best,” I said.

  I thought if that were true, Pamela might leave the other souvenirs at home.

  “She liked them all,” said Pamela. “That is why I am bringing them all to my presentation.”

  “It would be really nice of you to leave the other things at home,” I said.

  “No way,” said Pamela.

  “Please?”

  “No.”

  I walked away. I was going to give a report to Hannie and Nancy.

  “What did she say?” asked Hannie.

  “She said ‘No way’ and ‘No’.”

  “She is being a meanie-mo,” said Nancy.

  “You can try again later,” said Hannie.

  After recess we went to our school library. I had seen a book about the Pilgrims that I needed for my report. I looked on the shelves, but it was not there anymore. And I knew it was not at the public library.

  “Is there something I can help you with?” asked Mr. Counts, our librarian.

  “I would like to borrow The Pilgrims’ First Thanksgiving. But I cannot find it,” I said.

  “Let me check my records.” Mr. Counts looked at his computer screen. “Yes, that book is out. In fact, a girl in your class borrowed it. Maybe she will let you look at it.”

  “Who borrowed it?” I asked.

  “Pamela Harding,” replied Mr. Counts.

  Boo. I did not think a meanie-mo like Pamela would let me look at her library book. But I decided to ask her anyway.

  I found her at a table reading a book about Squanto, the Indian who had helped the Pilgrims.

  “Excuse me, Pamela,” I said. I was trying very hard to be polite.

  “Forget it, Karen. I am bringing the souvenirs and that is final,” Pamela said before I had a chance to ask my question.

  “That is not what I was going to ask,” I said. “But now that you mention it, why can’t you leave them at home? It would not hurt you to be nice, you know.”

  “I am just doing my presentation,” said Pamela.

  “Well, you are being mean. And it is not the Pilgrim spirit to be mean!” I said.

  “Shh. Quiet in the library, please,” said Mr. Counts.

  “Anyway, I was not going to ask about the souvenirs. I want to ask if I could look at the Thanksgiving book you borrowed. It is the only copy,” I said.

  “Since you th
ink I am such a meanie, the answer to your question is no,” said Pamela. “It just so happens it is due back tomorrow. But I think I will check it out again. I may have missed a few facts.”

  “Pamela,” I said, stamping my foot. “You are the biggest meanie-mo ever!”

  “Sticks and stones may break my bones. But I’m the one with the book and souvenirs. So there,” said Pamela.

  I stomped over to my friends to give them the latest meanie-mo report.

  Karen’s Report

  I tried talking to Pamela again on Tuesday. But she would not change her mind.

  “It just is not fair,” I said to Mommy. I was eating my after-school snack. (Andrew was at a friend’s house.)

  “There is nothing more you can do about Pamela,” said Mommy. “You will have to think about your report in a new way. Maybe the souvenirs should not be such an important part of your presentation anymore.”

  “But I want to do something exciting,” I said. “Something the class will remember.”

  The word remember made me think of my Pilgrim friend. I could still show my pictures of her. And I could show pictures of all of Plimoth Plantation, from the brochures we had brought home.

  I found the brochures on my desk. All of a sudden I saw something I had not noticed before — information about a special program. It said the role players sometimes visited schools.

  “Maybe Remember could visit our class for my presentation,” I said. I showed Mommy the brochure. “That would be so exciting!”

  “Your report is only a week away, Karen,” said Mommy. “I am sure the role players are all booked up.”

  “But we can try. Maybe no one else wanted a role player that day,” I said. “Can’t we just call and ask?”

  “I don’t know,” said Mommy. “I do not want you to get your hopes up and then be disappointed.”

  “I will be more disappointed if we do not even try,” I said.

  So Mommy dialed the phone number on the Plimoth Plantation brochure.

  “Hello, I would like to speak with someone about making a school visit,” said Mommy. “Yes, thank you. I will hold.”