What the Moon Said by Gayle Rosengren

with you and David. Your last letter reminded me of how much fun that is. The water is so cold, but it feels so good! Or maybe we could go to Riverview and ride the rides and watch the fireworks like we did last year. But here every day is the same. Even the Fourth of July.
    Esther laid down her pencil. She knew her letter was one long grumble, but she couldn’t help it. The last few days had been so terribly hot, it was hard to sleep at night, so everyone was cranky. Even Pa, who hardly ever scolded, snapped at Walter for singing at breakfast. But Esther suspected it was more than the heat that was making Pa edgy.
    â€œThe crops need rain,” she’d heard him tell Ma two days ago.
    â€œThe rain will come. Do not worry,” Ma had soothed him. But the weather had continued to be hot and sunny. There weren’t even any clouds in the sky.
    Esther had thought their worries would be over once they moved to the farm. Pa had a job that no one could take away from him. But in the city, if he worked, he got paid. Farmers could work and work and still not earn any money if the weather wasn’t right.
    In the city, Pa wasn’t constantly watching the sky and he didn’t worry so much about signs. Just yesterday he’d come to lunch frowning nervously. “Anna, what does it mean when you see six crows on a fence but then two more land beside them?”
    Ma had stopped halfway to the table as Pa spoke. But then she came the rest of the way wearing a look of relief. “You start over again, and two is luck,” she said.
    Pa sagged in his chair and grinned. “Thank goodness.”
    â€œCrows?” Esther asked.
    Ma nodded and began to chant:
    â€œOne is bad,
    Two is luck,
    Three is health,
    Four is wealth,
    Five is sickness,
    Six is death.”
    Death! No wonder Pa had looked so nervous. If the last two crows hadn’t landed beside the others . . . ! Esther felt a chill even though the day was so hot.
    But good luck hadn’t arrived yet that Esther could see. Just more heat and dust and a weary slump to Pa’s shoulders. Esther didn’t want to worry about the crops. It just made her crankier. If only there was something fun to do. She’d played with Margaret for most of the morning. And she’d tried to play with Mickey. But his tongue hung out and he panted like a tired old train, huffing and puffing. She finally sent him to his shady nest under the porch and came back into the house.
    Esther eyed the two books she owned—
Little Women
and
Heidi
—stacked neatly on top of the dresser. They were last year’s Christmas gifts from Kate and Julia. She’d already read them twice, but she could read one of them a third time, she supposed. She sighed. If only there were a library in town! With new books to read, she wouldn’t miss school so much. And if Bethany lived nearer, so they could see each other sometimes, she wouldn’t be so lonely. She thought of how easy it had been to visit Shirley in Chicago. It was very different in the country.
    Esther looked out the window. Pa was walking back from the oat field. Every day he checked the oats, the corn, the wheat, and the potatoes. Every day he drove milk and eggs to town to sell. Every day he hauled and chopped wood to build the woodpile high before winter. And he made repairs around the house and barn.
    But all the while Esther could tell he was really waiting. Waiting for rain. Waiting for the crops to grow. Waiting for the harvest.
    The screen door banged and Esther heard Pa shout over the jingle of the fairy bells, “Everyone get ready! We are going on a picnic!”
    Esther let out a whoop. She raced down the stairs. “A picnic! Where?”
    â€œWe will go to the lake and cool off for a while,” Pa was telling Ma. “Maybe I will catch some fish for supper.”
    Ma’s flushed face broke into a smile. She’d just come in from weeding the vegetable garden. It