Small Beauties (4 page)

Early the next morning, Darcy awoke before the others. Silently she stepped around the ruins of what had once been their home. She peeked into the rubble and searched through the stones, until she noticed something special. She quietly opened her hem and slipped the small beauty in.

Later that day, Darcy took one last walk with Granny down Derry Lane. “ ’Tis a big ocean that will soon be between us,” Granny whispered, a tear rolling down her wrinkled cheek. “And the years will come and go like so many waves upon the shore. I’m countin’ on you, my girl, you who notice so much. With all those small beauties you keep, here is one more.” She pressed the worn bead back into Darcy’s hand. “Help the others to remember, and not just the sadness, the hurt, and the hunger. Help them
to remember all the beauty they left behind.”

“But I don’t want to go, Gran!” Darcy sobbed. “I want to stay here with you.”

“Oh, my little one,” Granny sighed. “I know, I know.”

Now there is no farewell sadder than the farewell of forever, and so it was with many tears that the O’Haras bid their beloved Ireland good-bye. They traveled by foot and by cart, by ferry and by boat. The seas were rough and people were crowded close belowdecks. Darcy covered her face with her scarf to keep the stink from her nose as the ship pitched to and fro on the choppy sea.

After many long weeks of travel, the family finally crossed the wide ocean to America. Darcy found the island of Manhattan very different from the island she had known.

Where’s the heather?
she wondered.
Where’s the bog?

Instead of tiny cottages, Darcy saw tall buildings stretched to the sky. Instead of fields of rotting potatoes, she noticed shops and carts overflowing with fresh fruits and vegetables.
Instead of barefoot children dressed in rags, she saw girls and boys wearing hats, coats, and shoes! Everything was different. Everything was new. And best of all was the hope that the family could one day buy land of their own.

But for all the newness, Darcy remembered the old. The first week in their new country found the O’Haras gathered together around a smoky little stove in a cramped city cellar. They were worn and weary, tired to the bone. And as they talked of their day and the days to come, Darcy silently began to loosen the stitches of her hem.

“What have we here?” her father asked, looking up from his pipe.

Darcy smiled as she pulled out her small beauties from home.

First came a little round pebble covered in moss.

Next came a magpie’s feather, black as night.

There were dried blossoms of buttercups,