She stood holding the small wooden frame in her hands. It was the one thing she had managed to take with her from her mother’s house when she’d left. She’d thought she was making a wise choice; she’d been wrong. She let her mind drift back to watching as her mother had carefully stitched the little x’s while sitting next to the fire after putting the children to bed. Many evenings the work involved pain due to the beating she had received from her husband, but it didn’t matter – every night she worked. . .
“ Momma,"the child asked, “why do you work on it every night?”
“ So I can get finished before you leave home,” her mother had answered.
“ I’m not leaving anytime soon,” the girl insisted with a yawn.
Her mother would smile. “I know, but it’s better to plan ahead.”
“ What does it say?”
“ A stitch in time saves nine.”
“ What does that mean?” the child asked crinkling up her nose in confusion.
“ It means you should take care of problems when they start so they don’t grow too big,” her mother sighed. “That way you don’t end up like me.”
The girl nodded and rolled over to sleep.
She shook away the memory and carefully put the small frame in her bag, closed it, and picked it up. She moved quietly so as not to disturb the drunken man sleeping on the bed.
When she entered the room next door, three pair of large, questioning, brown eyes searched her face. “Ready?” she asked.
Her oldest nodded.
She smiled. “Then let’s get going. Louise, you carry Teresa and let Jeremiah carry the bags.”
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