8/14/2019 The Red Wagon

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The Red WagonThe people in the village gathered every Sunday to sing the same songs and tell the same stories. An

old farmer named Jonas told the same story every Sunday about a goat that granted wishes to the first personhe met in the morning. Little lady Sophie sang the same song each week—a silly little song about her sheepnamed Polka. Every week it was the same songs and same stories. No one ever left the village and no one new ever came.

One morning however, something new happened. Usually everyone woke when Farmer Beadle’sgrouchy rooster crowed at exactly dawn. But this morning, just before dawn, they all heard wagon wheels

jostling down the road. Everyone jumped out of bed at the same time and scurried to look outside. If you’dbeen there and watched, you would have seen faces appear instantly in every window in the village. And inthe dim morning light you would have seen what they did, a red wagon pulled by two beautiful brown

ponies. They ’d never seen such a wagon!Driving the wagon was a lady with long dark hair cascading downher back in a thick braid. She hummed and smiled to herself as she held the reins. In the woman’s lap was a

young girl, asleep. Even in the low light, it was clear she was the woman’s daughter. They had almost thesame face. Her hair was braided too, but it was coiled around her head instead of falling down her back. They reached the cottage at the end of the lane, stopped the wagon, and after tying the horses, the pretty lady carefully carried her daughter inside.

Everyone stared at the quiet cottage until the grouchy rooster crowed. Reluctantly they began to goabout their business, stealing glances as often as they could at the new strangers unloading their red wagon.They watched them bring in their trunks of clothes, pots and pans, and finally two odd shaped boxes, a largeone for the mother and a small one for the daughter.

The people of the village were cautious and quiet with the newcomers. Noone sat with the little girlat school. The teacher asked her to stand and introduce herself to the class. Her name was Caroline, she said.They had moved from a small town across the mountains. Though all the children were full of questions, noone asked any of them, and Caroline sat down by herself and didn’t speak to anyone else the rest of the day.

Nothing much changed in the next few days. Caroline and her mother put everything away in theirhouse, built a place for their chickens, and went walking together every day to gather fresh wildflowers.Soon, they had been there a week, and it was time to gather for stories and songs. Noone invited Carolineand her mother, but her mother decided they would go anyway. Caroline didn’t want to, remembering how none of the children were kind to her at school.“ We must be brave and kind Caroline,” her mother said.“Even when others are not.”

As the villagers walked to the meeting hall, they took turns glancing over their shoulders at the housewith the red wagon, wondering if Caroline and her mother would join them. One small girl shouted“They ’recoming!” and pulled on her mother’s dress as she pointed. Her mother shushed her and they bustled quickly

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towards the door of the meeting hall. Caroline’s mother squeezed her hand and kissed her on the head asthey entered.

Everyone turned to see the strangers come in. They stood in the doorway, their beautiful braidsdotted with colorful flowers and each of them carrying their odd shaped box. Caroline’s mother spoke,

“Hello. I know we are new here and you aren’t used to us yet, but we have something we’d like to share with you.”

There was no answer. Noone knew what to say. What would come out of those odd-shaped boxes? What could they share with them? Finally, old Jonas stood and spoke:“Friends, I think it is about time westop all this silliness. They is just folks like us. Folks with braids, a red wagon, and funny shaped boxes. Butas far as I can tell, they ain’t got claws or fangs and I don’t think that little girl could have a prettier face. So, Isay we stop starin’ and get to welcomin’. Lady, you go right ahead’n share.”

Caroline beamed at old Jonas and he smiled right back. The people looked down in embarrassment.Caroline’s mother smiled too and found a place for them both to sit down and open their boxes. Everyone

leaned forward to see what was inside. Now you most likely know what a guitar is, but these folks had neverseen one, and they certainly had never heard one. They all jumped the first time Caroline strummed hers. Shegiggled, and so did the other children. Caroline’s mother spoke,“This is a song I wrote for Caroline when she was born, I hope you enjoy it.” Then she began to sing:

Little one little one, so glad you are here.Little one little one, I ’ ll hold you near.You smile while you sleep and dream through the night,

And I smile and dream while holding you tight.

So sleep, sleep, sweet baby girl,Tomorrow ’ s a new day in your little world.

Caroline began playing her guitar and sang the song again with her mother. They rocked together inrhythm with the sweet lullaby. When they finished, the room was quiet again. Then old Jonas stood oncemore. His eyes glistened as he slowly began clapping his wrinkled hands. Slowly everyone in the room stoodand began clapping as well. As her mother squeezed her shoulder and sat down to play another song,Caroline looked at the smiling faces of the other children. She strummed her guitar again and smiled back.She finally felt like she was home.