A Simple Song by Melody Carlson Page A

problem making these compromises. In fact, life would be much easier if Bekka were the one to enter a singing contest. Except that she couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.
    â€œI wonder how much money I should bring,” Katrina mused. “I’ll need to get some out of my bean jar.”
    â€œYour what?”
    Katrina waved her hand. “No matter. And don’t worry, I will pay for all we need—you and me both.”
    Bekka’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I nearly forgot. You still have the money your grandmother left you.”
    â€œ Ja . Maybe she knew I would have need of it.”
    On Thursday night, Katrina thought she would be too anxious to sleep, but it had been such a busy day that she was exhausted. “Are you afraid?” Sadie asked quietly in the darkness.
    â€œAfraid?” Katrina considered the meaning of the word. “No, I don’t think so. But I am nervous.”
    â€œDo you think you’ll get homesick?”
    â€œHomesick?”
    â€œI’ve read about it in books. A girl goes away from home for the first time and she misses it so much she gets homesick. Do you think you’ll get it too?”
    Katrina chuckled. “I doubt it. I’ll only be gone a few days.”
    â€œDid you decide what you’re going to sing yet?”
    â€œNot exactly. But I have narrowed it down to three songs.” She didn’t tell Sadie that one of the songs—the one she was leaning toward—was one that their very own mammi had written and performed nearly fifty years ago. Bekka had made the discovery on her computer, learning that “After the Storm,” a moving song about the destructiveness of war, had been written by Starla Knight.
    â€œI hope you sing the tin soldier song,” Sadie said wistfully.
    â€œIt’s one that I’m considering.”
    â€œI’ll be praying for you, Katrina.”
    â€œThank you.” Katrina reached over, hugging her little sister in the darkness. To her surprise, she felt tears in her eyes. “I’ll be praying for you too.”
    Sadie laughed. “Praying that I don’t let your tomatoes dry up, I’ll bet.”
    The next morning, Katrina got up before the sun, which was quite early in June. She had already packed her bag for the trip, and the blue dress she planned to wear for travelinghung on a peg, ready to go. In the darkness she pulled on her black stockings and then the dress, pinned her apron into place, pinned on her shoulder shawl, and slipped her feet into her good black leather shoes. Tucking her nightgown into the bag, she looked around the room, which was so dark she could barely see. Without making a sound, she slipped out and down the hallway and was just going to the kitchen when she noticed a golden glow in there.
    â€œMamm?” she said in surprise. “You didn’t need to get up this early.”
    Mamm, still in her long white nightgown, turned toward Katrina. “I couldn’t let you go without saying a proper goodbye.” She handed Katrina a paper bag. “I know you already packed some food for your trip, but I made some moon pies last night.”
    Katrina hugged her. “Thank you, Mamm.”
    â€œI will be praying for you,” she said solemnly.
    â€œI know you will.”
    Mamm looked out the window to where a buggy, with its lanterns glowing, was just pulling up in their driveway. “Don’t keep them waiting.”
    With her arms loaded with the bags—and tears in her eyes—Katrina told Mamm goodbye, then hurried out into the darkness. She hoped this wasn’t a mistake.
    â€œMorning,” Cooper said as he helped her into the buggy.
    â€œGood morning,” she said brightly.
    â€œMorning?” Bekka grumbled. “This is the middle of the night.”
    â€œYou can tell Bekka’s not a farm girl,” Cooper teased. “Katrina and I are used to getting up with the chickens.”
    â€œThe