Blossoms on the Roof by Rebecca Martin

the Yoders’ home. A man climbed down from the wagon and walked to the door.
    â€œHello,” he said to Mother while twisting his hat in his hands. “I’m Adam Tracey. My wife, Verena, and our two boys are on the wagon. We’ve staked a claim on a homestead west of here. What we need right now is a place to stay for the night.”
    â€œDo stay,” Mother said quickly. “Father and Ben could sleep in the barn. We—”
    â€œLet me sleep in the barn,” Adam interrupted. “Just as long as my wife gets a warm bed to lie down in and maybe a bit of warm supper…She hasn’t been too well.”
    â€œOf course. You may tie your horses near the haystack. My husband will be in for supper soon.”
    The two little Tracey boys tumbled from the wagon and stood staring at Polly and Jakie. Polly and Jakie stared back.
    Verena did look rather pale and ill. Mother told her to lie down while she and Polly got supper. As soon as Father and Ben came in, everybody squeezed around the makeshift table to eat Mother’s good soup and brown bread.
    Adam Tracey was a talkative man. He told how he and his family had left Illinois because they could not make a living there. His two brothers already had homesteads in North Dakota, and by tomorrow night he hoped to reach their homes. The Traceys’ own homestead was right beside those of his brothers.
    After supper Verena seemed to feel better. She helped with the dishes and talked about their long trip across the prairie in the wagon. “And wouldn’t you know,” she said with a tinkling laugh, “our cat had kittens right there in the wagon.”
    â€œKittens!” said Polly, forgetting to be shy. “Are they here?”
    â€œYes. Two are black and white and two are gray. Maybe you’d like to have a look at them before it gets dark out there.”
    Out ran Polly. Jakie and the two little boys trotted after her. “There,” said the oldest Tracey, pointing to a green box. “In there.”
    â€œOh, the dear things,” cried Polly. She cradled one gray kitten against her chest. What a loud purr came from such a tiny creature!
    â€œWould you like to keep two of them?” called Verena from the door.
    â€œOh, yes! But we have no cow. Kittens need milk.”
    â€œWell, you may keep the mother cat too,” Verena said.
    Still clutching the kitten, Polly ran into the house. “Did you hear that, Mother? We could have the cat and two kittens. Think of all the mice they’d catch!”
    Mother looked at Polly. “We’ll see what Father says.”
    In the end, the cats stayed. The mother cat’s name was Rilla, and she settled her two remaining kittens in the Yoders’ tiny barn. She was a good mother cat and took good care of her kittens. Polly spent all of her spare time in the barn, and because of the cats, she wished school would never start.

    One morning after breakfast, she said to Mother, “What if the other children at school aren’t nice to us?”
    â€œI don’t think you need to worry,” Mother said, assuring her. “Don’t forget that not all the children will be strangers. Our neighboring homesteaders’—the Millers, Hershbergers, and Masts—children will be there too.”
    â€œYes, I know,” Polly said, though not very happily. After they washed the dishes, Polly went outside. A chilly October wind blew across the brown fields. Overhead the skywas filling with blue-black clouds, and before Polly reached the barn, a big drop of rain splattered on her forehead.
    Polly nestled down in the sweet-smelling hay. Purr. The kittens found her and climbed around on her apron. Soon the rain on the sod roof grew to a steady drumming. “This is the kind of rain we longed for all summer,” Polly said to the kittens.
    A drop of water hit her hand, another landed on her cheek, and a third wet her forehead. The barn roof was