SOUL: My Dear Sister Margret By Sally Madison

Week 10 Word: SOUL
Words: 430
My Dear Sister Margret
Sally Madison

My dear sister Margret,
I was so hoping for a letter from you when we reached Scott’s Bluff, but I will save my hope for Fort Laramie. Now that we are following the North Platte River through the prairie, there is water a plenty.
Young Will has changed considerable since you last saw him. His boots have now been passed to another family with little ones. His feet, once sore and blistered, now revel to be stretched out, as he squishes the mud between his toes, while tormenting the frogs by the river, whenever he fetches water.
Charlie and I bought a couple of saw mill blades from Widow Perkins. Mr. Perkins was killed awhile back, during one of those tornado storms. The wicked wind from the northwest howled and scared us to tears. Even though I was tucked in under the wagon, grabbed my hair so I thought it was coming out by the roots. Unfortunately, Mr. Perkins chased after one of his horses, and the storm took him instead.
The horses sweat up awful when we come dragging those saw blades over a hill. We’ll have to buy oxen before we get to try to climb over the Rockies.
The fear of Indians is ever present, especially since the discovery of the poor family who departed from our wagon train. One little disagreement with the wagon master, and the husband took in to his head that he knew the way. “Just Go West” was he snapped when his wife questioned his ability to strike out with the family alone. Our hearts were broken when the scout brought back the husband’s boots back for Will to wear. We pray for their soul’s everyday. It pains me so, to think of those dear children that were captured. Thoughts of Will and Becky being taken from me send chills to my spine. Those are the days I wish we had never begun this incredible trek to follow a dream.
The drudgery of each day with dust and dirt is only tolerable as we think of our lives when we reach Oregon. They say the pine trees are as thick as blades of grass, and so tall they reach the clouds. If those trees are that plentiful, and the homesteaders keep coming, then a lumber yard should be in high demand. With Will working in the mill with Charlie, Becky helping me in the garden and God’s help, we should be planting our crops this time next year.
Until we meet again, you are forever in my heart.
Your Loving Sister, Emily

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