Home Is Beyond the Mountains by Celia Lottridge

wins.”
    This was harder. Elias
managed to hit one pebble out of the blue diamond and was so pleased that he
didn’t notice that Anna and Samira were sneaking back the ones they hit so
that they wouldn’t win too fast. In the end Anna couldn’t help winning, but
Elias promised her that he would practice and beat her next time.
    â€œHe probably will,” said
Samira. “He’s a very determined boy.”
    Miss Shedd came by as they
were gathering up the stones.
    â€œI used to play something
like that,” she said. “And there’s another game where you toss a stone in
the air and pick up others as fast as you can.”
    â€œYes,” said Samira. “First
you throw down all the stones except one.” She could remember how the other
girls always watched closely to be sure you tossed the stones and didn’t
just drop them in a heap.
    â€œThat’s it,” said Miss
Shedd. “Now, what were the words we said?”
    â€œIt’s shkelta when you throw them and metaytah when you
pick them up. But you have to get them all up before the stone you tossed
comes down,” said Samira.
    â€œOh, yes. I remember.” Miss
Shedd glanced around the room. “You’ll need a hook for the lantern to keep
it away from anything that might catch fire. And you’ll need some hooks for
clothes, too.” She smiled. “Don’t worry. You’ll have new clothes to hang up
as fast as we can make them. Shoes, too. Winter’s coming, you know.” She
gave the uncovered window a quick glance, shook her head and was
gone.
    THREE DAYS LATER Miss
Shedd made an announcement as the children were finishing lunch.
    â€œFor a few weeks this eating
room will also be the schoolroom, and the schoolroom will become a workshop
for making clothes and shoes. Some of you will be helping with that work. If
you are not on the list, don’t worry. The rest of you will have other
jobs.”
    She took a piece of paper
out of the bag she always carried with her and read the names of girls and
boys who would go immediately to the schoolroom. Samira’s name was on the
list. She walked over to the schoolroom with the three other girls who were
to become seamstresses.
    â€œShe looks at you with that
look and decides that you can sew,” one girl grumbled. “I can patch a hole
in a shirt but I can’t make anything.”
    â€œWe’ll have to learn,” said
another. “We have to do what she says.”
    â€œIt might save us from
kitchen duty for a while,” said Samira.
    The other girls brightened
up. Kitchen duty meant chopping endless onions and stirring rice so it
wouldn’t burn and scrubbing out pots. The girls didn’t like it and the boys
hated it, but now that Miss Shedd was in charge everyone had to take a turn
unless they were doing some other urgent task.
    When the girls entered the
schoolroom they stopped and stared. The shelves of books, the blackboard and
the mats where the children sat to do their lessons were gone. At one end of
the room three women stood behind a big table heaped with cloth. The sewing
machines were lined up and ready to go. At the other end of the room two men
were sorting through tools and pieces of canvas cut into squares.
    Samira went over to the
women. One was old with gray hair. The other two were not old, though they
were thin and worn. They all looked very happy.
    â€œYou will be helping us make
new clothes for everyone,” said the gray-haired woman. “I am Hanna, this is
Zora and this is Britha. We are refugees like you but we have been in
Hamadan all this time living on the little the British gave us. Miss Shedd
has blessed us by giving us some work.”
    Zora was looking at the
dress Samira was wearing. She shook her head.
    â€œYou won’t live through the
winter in that,” she said. “It gets cold here, you know. You need a nice
thick skirt and a blouse and a warm