Until We Reach Home by Lynn Austin

Elin usually chose to stay below whenever Kirsten and Sofia went outside for air. Kirsten looked surprised, too.
    “You mean it?” she asked.
    “Lead the way, Kirsten.” Elin pushed Sofia forward, out of the crowded steerage hold and up the stairs.
    Once they were outside, Sofia was glad she had come. The deck wasn’t overcrowded for once, and millions of stars filled the night sky. The moon was nearly full, and it perched on the horizon like a huge broken dinner plate, casting a ribbon of light across the gently tossing waves. The water looked as though you could walk on it.
    “Look up,” Elin told Sofia. “Those are the same stars and the same moon that shone above our home in Sweden. They’re following us to our new home.”
    “You know what tonight is?” Kirsten asked. “ Walpurgis Eve.”
    “You’re right,” Elin said. “I’ve nearly lost track of what day it is, but tomorrow is the first of May.”
    “Everyone back home is probably gathering around the village bonfire,” Kirsten said. She gazed at the horizon as if expecting to see a column of sparks swirling toward heaven in the distance.
    Sofia used to love gathering with her friends and family on Walpurgis Eve to celebrate the return of the sun and warm weather. She loved singing the old familiar songs, saying farewell to winter’s long, dark nights. The tears that filled her eyes at this reminder of home made the stars shimmer and whirl like snowflakes.
    “So,” Elin said after a long pause, “the past is behind us, just like the long, cold winter. It’s time for us to make some new plans. Let’s watch for a shooting star and everyone can make a wish. What would you wish for, Sofia?”
    “She wants to go home,” Kirsten said in a whining imitation.
    “Be quiet and let her talk. Go on, Sofia.”
    “Let Kirsten go first,” she mumbled.
    “Fine,” Kirsten sighed. “Let’s see . . . I want . . . I want to marry the most wonderful man in the whole world and be as rich as a queen just to show all those stupid people back in the village that I don’t need any of them. I wish they would all be sorry that they didn’t think we were good enough to marry their ugly old sons—but by then it will be too late.”
    That’s it?” Elin asked. “You could have any wish in the world and you’d pick retribution?”
    “Oh, you know what I mean,” Kirsten said, waving her hand. “I wish this journey would make everything new for us, and that crossing this ocean would wash everything old away. I want a new home with Uncle Lars and Aunt Hilma, and a new village to live in. And new adventures!”
    “That’s better. Now it’s your turn, Sofia. Forget about all the things we’ve had to endure and think ahead. Dream big dreams. What do you wish for in America?”
    “I don’t know,” she said with a shrug.
    “Come on, Sofia. You must long for something.”
    “I want things to be the way they were when Mama and—”
    “No, Sofia. You can’t live in the past. Even if we’d stayed in Sweden, we could never have Mama back and things could never be the way they were. Change is part of life, don’t you see? Remember how quickly everything changed after Mama died? And then Papa gave up and the farm fell into ruin and everything changed again. Then Uncle Sven came and . . . and things were very different. Nothing ever stays the same. Try to remember what you used to dream of before Mama and Papa died.”
    Sofia thought hard and realized that she didn’t have any dreams. It worried her that she didn’t long for adventure like Kirsten or for a new start like Elin.
    “All I want . . .” she said slowly, gazing up at the stars, “all I want is what I left behind—a cottage on a farm with my own cows and chickens, and a little piece of land with a pasture and trees. I want to plant potatoes and grow flowers and eat dinner with my family around the table every evening. I want to smell soup cooking on the stove and bread baking in the oven and