In The Beginning

CHAPTER ONE

Isla and Amy pressed tightly against their mother, Helen, as they stood at the empty grave of their father, who died of influenza. They watched the attendants take their father’s body from the hearse and carry the coffin to the gravesite. Helen gripped her teenage daughters’ hands as she stood numb, realizing that her husband, Andy, was gone. She was amazed to see so many of his co-workers from the railroad, where he had worked for twenty years, at the service.

The heat from the early morning sun was already bearing down in Fort Madison, Iowa. Several ladies had their parasols opened for shade as the preacher led the group in prayer. Hearing a few sniffles in the background, Isla started to cry, then Amy. Helen put her arms around their shoulders to console them as her own tears flooded her face. After the service, Helen invited everyone to her house to gather and share stories.

Before Helen and the girls left the cemetery, they stopped by Helen’s mother and father’s graves who had died a year earlier in an automobile accident.

Holding her daughters’ hands, Helen read out loud the writing on their tombstones, Ralph Warren, 1830 to 1910, and Ruby Warren, 1832 to 1910. Taking a deep breath, she continued. Please take good care of Andy for us. He is with you now. The girls started to whimper again. Okay, let’s go. Aunt Lillian is waiting to drive us home.

Guests were waiting at the house when Helen and the girls arrived. She tried to be gracious as she greeted everyone, but was only going through the motions. She had so much on her mind. How am I ever going to support my family? she wondered. I need to come up with a plan.

An hour later, most of the guest had left. Helen said good-bye to the last visitor and her sister. Forty-two is too young to die, said Lillian, giving her sister a final hug. Are you going to be all right?

Yes, we’ll be okay. We thought we had plenty of time to save for retirement, but life’s plan doesn’t always work out as one expects. I have a lot of decisions to make.

Do you want me to stay with you tonight?

Oh, no. The girls and I will be fine. Thank you for coming, and being with us during this devastating time. You’re the only family I have left.

Call me if you need anything, said Lillian, hugging her sister and the two girls before she left.

Okay, girls, let’s clean up, directed Mama, and the three went into the kitchen.

Mama, look at all this food! said Isla, the youngest daughter.

We won’t have to cook for a week, said Amy, who was two years older than Isla. I know, said Mama, standing by the kitchen table. I can’t believe how wonderful your father’s friends and our neighbors have been. We are blessed by their friendship. Let’s get everything put away, she said, letting out a loud exhale. I’m so tired.

Mama, why don’t you go lie down, said Amy. Isla and I can clean up the kitchen.

She paused for a minute, looking at her two daughters. I think I will, she replied. She had hardly slept more than two hours at a time since Andy’s death. Be sure to put anything that is perishable in the icebox. She turned and slowly walked upstairs.

Standing at her bedroom door, she stared at her bed. I’m going to be so lonely without you, Andy, she thought. She sat on the side of the bed, letting her shoes fall to the floor. She took the few combs from her hair, letting it fall free to her shoulders. She slowly lay on the bed, crying softly, and she finally dozed off.

***

One week later, Mama had already taken a few measures to put her plan in place. She was a short woman and a little on the heavy side. She always wore an apron over her ankle- length dress and her hair in a bun. She sewed all her own dresses and had taught Isla to sew, too. Today was the last day of school before summer vacation. Mama was going to talk to Isla first about a decision she had made.

Isla, barely fifteen years old, placed her hands on her small hips in defiance, No, Mama, I don’t want to go! she said as she stamped her foot and shook her head, which was surprising for such a shy girl. Isla was a small, naïve girl with natural curly strawberry-blond hair. She had never before questioned her mother nor raised her voice. I want to stay here with you and Amy, she said in a louder than normal voice. Her lips trembling as she fought back her tears. Mama just stared at Isla, surprised at her reaction. What about school and my friends? Why do I have to go? seeing Amy standing in the doorway, she lowered her voice. Why not Amy? She is older.

Amy didn’t have curly hair like Isla’s. Her hair was straight and brown, and she wore it in a single braid past her shoulders. What’s going on? asked Amy. What do you mean? Why not Amy? She is older’? asked Amy.

Mama is going to send me away for the summer, spouted Isla.

You will only be gone for three months, replied Mama as she explained to Amy what they were talking about. I’ve made arrangements for Isla to attend Archer’s Academy, a highly recommended boarding school for seamstresses. Reaching out to pull Isla close as she sat at the kitchen table, she continued. It will be just as hard for me to let you go as it will be for you to be away from us. Your sewing will help with our household expenses. Isla, I need your help. Please be brave for me?

No, Mama! I won’t go! said Isla as she pulled away from her mother, and then she threw herself across Mama’s lap, sobbing.

I’m sorry, honey, but arrangements have already been made, said Mama, patting Isla on her back. I spoke with your school principal, Mr. Burns, and he has a close friend who works at Archer’s. He talked to the headmaster and told him of our circumstances and how talented you are, and he is willing to discount the tuition, explained Mama, pausing as she stroked Isla’s hair. I have already bought the train ticket, and you will be leaving Sunday morning. When you come back, you can return to your friends and get small sewing jobs after school. Despite her young age, Isla showed a creative ability in her sewing skills. With professional training, Mama thought she could become an accomplished seamstress and bring in additional income for the household.

Amy sat quietly listening to what Mama said as she watched Isla let go of Mama and run upstairs to her room. After slamming the door, Isla threw herself on her bed and cried herself to sleep.

Mama glanced at Amy, waiting to see how she would react to her plan. She wiped her hands on the front of her apron and started to clear the dinner dishes from the table. Amy helped her mother without saying a word, afraid she might also be sent away.

Putting away the final dish, Amy couldn’t stand it any longer; she had to ask, Mama, are you going to send me away too?

Oh, no, dear. I need your help here. I’m going to move you girls downstairs with me and rent out the two bedrooms upstairs.

Relieved, but confused, Amy wrapped her arms around her mother’s thick waist. Mama held her tight with an assuring hug. Won’t it be crowded with all three of us in one bedroom? asked Amy.

Yes, it will, but we will have to make do. I have a small bed stored away. I’ll put it in our bedroom for me, and you girls can sleep in the double bed. With Dad gone I have to come up with a way to make some money. I’m also going to serve Sunday dinners for an additional five people and charge a small fee.

After telling the girls her plan and seeing their reactions, Mama had trouble sleeping. As she lay in bed, she wondered if she had done the right thing. Andy, if you hear me, please let me know if I have made the right decision, she said, just above a whisper. No sooner had she finished the sentence than a billow of wind came through her open bedroom window. The curtains waved briefly, and a breeze filled the room. Mama took this as a sign of approval. Thank you, Andy. I love you, and I miss you so much. Decisions are hard to make without you.

As she looked at the ceiling, she prayed silently. God be with our little family and keep Isla safe. She needs you, Lord, to be by her side now more than ever. Tears flooded her eyes as she pondered over Isla’s journey and her plan to open her house to boarders.

***

Isla was still in bed on Saturday morning when she heard a knock on her bedroom door, but she didn’t answer. The second knock was louder.

Isla, it’s me. Let me come in, said Amy.

Isla got up and unlocked the door, turned, ran, and jumped back in bed.

Amy opened the door slowly, and then ran and jumped in bed with Isla. They pulled the covers over their heads and hugged tightly.

I don’t want to go, Isla said stubbornly. Can Mama make me go?

Well, she is our mother, and we have to do what she says. I don’t think you have a choice. Three months is not that long, and think of all the new friends you’ll make.

But I’m scared, said Isla hugging Amy tightly again.

Mama said you have talent. When you come back home, you can sew for the neighbors. She needs your help, or she wouldn’t be sending you away.

I do have a lot of new dress ideas. I want to make gowns that sparkle with beads and pearls.

Maybe you will become a famous dress designer!

Oh, my! I never thought of that. Famous! said Isla as she jumped out of bed. Famous! she shouted as she strutted around the room with her nose in the air. I’ll study really hard. Maybe I’ll make gowns for high society ladies.

Let’s go tell Mama, said Amy as she jumped out of bed. Hand in hand they ran downstairs in their matching nightgowns that Isla had made.

Mama! Mama! shouted Isla as she burst into the kitchen. Maybe I’ll be famous with my dress designs. I’m going to study hard, and when I become important, I’ll buy us a big house where you can sit on the porch all day and sip lemonade.

Isla’s new attitude pleased Mama. Reach for your dreams, and they might come true, she said as she joined the girls, laughing and holding hands they danced in a circle. Let’s have breakfast. I’m going to make Isla’s favorite pancakes.

As they sat around the breakfast table, Mama told them the duties she had for Amy and how she was going to change the bedrooms to make room for the boarders. Maybe this is a good time not to be home after all, Isla thought. Amy has a lot of chores helping Mama and won't have time for her friends either.

That night, Amy helped Isla pack a suitcase. She didn’t have to take a lot of clothes because uniforms were worn at the school. Don’t forget Susie, reminded Amy. Susie was a precious fabric doll with red yarn hair that Mama had made. Isla made the doll’s nightgown to match hers and Amy’s. Susie knew all Isla’s fears, like how much she missed her father and that she was frightened to leave home. Isla knew she was too old to be carrying around a doll, but she wanted to take something to remind her of home.

Sunday morning came, and they needed to be at the train station by eleven o’clock. Isla had on her Sunday best dress with matching sweater and dress shoes. Mama lent her a small purse for her travel, just big enough to carry a handkerchief, a few coins, and a note stating who to contact if Isla got lost.

They arrived at the station just in time for hugs and kisses before Isla had to board. Mama had packed a sandwich and a few cookies for her journey. The train trip would take three hours to reach Archer’s.

Mama found the conductor and asked, Would you please keep an eye on my daughter Isla? She has never traveled alone before, and she is going to Archer’s boarding school. There will be someone there to meet her.

I know where that is, replied the conductor. I’ll make sure she gets off at the right stop.Then he took Isla’s hand and found her a seat by the window.

All aboard! hollered the engineer. The train whistle blew as it slowly chugged away from the station platform.

Holding back her tears and clutching Susie under her arm, Isla waved goodbye from the train window.

Mama and Amy stood on the station’s wooden platform, waving goodbye and throwing kisses. Mama wiped the tears from her eyes, hoping that Isla didn’t see them. She still wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing by sending her little girl away.

Isla enjoyed all the scenery from the train window as she ate the lunch Mama had packed for her. She saw places and towns she had never seen before, with fields of wheat and corn, and farms with cows and horses. She was a city girl and found the countryside interesting.

I have a little girl your age, said the conductor, stopping by to check on Isla. He was concerned about such a young girl traveling alone. She nodded back with a smile. If you need anything, let me know. Isla still didn’t answer, just smiled, remembering that Mama had told her not to speak to strangers.

A few minutes before the train arrived at the depot closest to Archer’s, the conductor let Isla know they were getting ready to stop. I’ll come back to escort you off, he said.

When the train stopped, the conductor took Isla to the depot platform. Archer’s headmaster’s assistant was waiting for her.

Hi there, dear. Are you Isla Warren? asked Mrs. Whitney, reaching out her hand.

Yes, ma’am, she said timidly.

I’m Mrs. Whitney. I’m here to take you to Archer’s.

She took her hand and wondered, Is she my teacher?

Islam examined what Mrs. Whitney was wearing. Isla often wondered why all teachers looked alike. They seemed to wear dark dresses, ugly shoes, and expressions on their faces like they had just smelled something bad. If Mrs. Whitney was a teacher, she looked different. She was young and pretty and wore a flowered dress.

It’s about an hour ride to Archer’s. I have a carriage waiting for us. Shall we go? said Mrs. Whitney. Her smile made Isla feel comfortable. Together they drove in a horse-drawn buggy belonging to the school. Mrs. Whitney made small talk, asking how Isla’s mother and sister were doing after her father’s death. The time went by quickly, and they soon arrived at the school.

Archer’s was a large, gloomy, gray, two-story stone building. Isla thought it looked spooky like somewhere a witch or ghost would live. As Mrs. Whitney walked her through the building, Isla observed several classrooms. There were separate rooms for designing, cutting, fitting and assembling, and another room for lectures. Other classrooms had been converted into sleeping rooms. Isla’s arrival gave her just enough time to register, unpack, and receive a quick orientation.

Entering Isla’s bedroom, Mrs. Whitney instructed, We have thirty students; each bedroom sleeps six girls. Two girls will share a wardrobe, but you will have your own trunk for your personal belongings. You may post pictures of your family on the wall above your bed.

Isla put her suitcase down and followed Mrs. Whitney to the cafeteria. Dinner is served promptly at six p.m. All the students are assigned weekly kitchen duties, and those who have kitchen duty in the morning will report to the kitchen at five a.m. Breakfast is served at six thirty, and classes start at seven thirty. There is a thirty-minute lunch break at eleven thirty and then back to class by noon. Classes continue until five thirty p.m., six days a week.

Walking Isla back to her room, Mrs. Whitney continued, Church service is held on Sunday mornings. In the afternoons you can write letters or participate in any other leisure activity you choose, as long as you don’t leave the school grounds. Visitors are permitted on Sundays only. Do you have any questions?

No, ma’am.

Well, go ahead and unpack, and I’ll meet you in the cafeteria at six. After dinner you will be given two uniforms, said Mrs. Whitney, smiling as she left.

On Isla’s first day, she reported directly to the lecture room, wearing her new uniform, a drab green jumper with a white blouse. She wore her own shoes but was given dark knee-high socks. There were five other girls starting school with her. Following the lecture on school rules and expectations, three girls were assigned to the cutting room, and the other two girls and Isla were taken to the sewing room.

When Isla entered the classroom, she quietly gasped. She had never seen so many sewing machines in one room. There were more machines than students. Later she found out that the school was also a workshop that hired outside seamstresses to meet the school’s contracts. Isla was surprised to find out she had a daily quota to sew. After she met her quota, she would have time to learn advanced techniques. By the end of the first week, she met her quota every day.

The teachers took to Isla immediately because she needed little instruction. Students interested in designing had to sign up for six months instead of Isla’s three-month commitment. She figured that if she worked hard, she could advance to the design session during her three month period.

Isla, your designs are too elaborate for what we do here, said her teacher. We won’t be doing any gowns with beading.

Yes, ma’am. Would it be all right if I showed the beading on my sketches only? Just so I can visualize what the finished gown will look like.

As long as you understand your designs are on paper only. But remember the actual gown will be made of whatever fabric we have on hand, without any embellishments.

Yes, ma’am. Thank you, said Isla with a curtsy.

Isla continued sketching her complex drawings, and the teachers shook their heads in amazement as they critiqued her work.

The days were long, and Isla missed her mother and sister. She had a calendar on the wall keeping track of the passing days, and she drew a star on the last day of school. At the end of each school day, Isla told Susie everything she had learned. Being timid, talking to Susie was comforting and easier than talking to the other girls. At night, she would kneel beside her bed with Susie and say her prayers, blessing Mama, Amy and Daddy in heaven.

***

Mama and Amy had not planned on visiting Isla on Sundays because the round trip train ride would take six hours, not including the trip to and from the station. Sunday was Mama’s big dinner day for outside guests. Isla understood this was part of the plan.

Mama, I miss Isla, said Amy. Isn’t there some way we can go visit her? Her eyes looked so sad.

I really miss her, too, replied Mama, giving Amy a big hug. She’s been gone for a month and writes that she is lonely and wants to come home. Maybe a visit will help all three of us.

CHAPTER TWO

Mama’s plan was working. Her dinners were a success, and she had two boarders. Sunday dinner was usually served at two in the afternoon, following church. To allow time for their surprise visit with Isla, Mama told her guests in advance that dinner would be served later.

The following Sunday, Amy was up early, excited about seeing her sister again. Mama packed a lunch for all three of them, including her homemade oatmeal-raisin cookies, which were Isla’s favorite.

Reaching the end of the train ride, Mama found someone who was willing to give them a ride to the school. They arrived at lunch-time. Students who had visitors were in the garden. Isla was in the cafeteria with a few of the other girls who didn’t have family members visiting. She was patiently sitting at one of the tables, waiting for the nod from the head cook to get in line for food service.

Isla saw the door open from the hall entrance, expecting it to be one of the students coming in late; she was surprised to see Mama and Amy. Mama! Mama! Amy! she squealed and ran to meet them. All three hugged and cried. Jumping up and down, Isla turned to the other girls, saying ecstatically, This is my mama and sister.

Taking Mama’s hand, she led them to the picnic area in the garden, a shaded courtyard with several tables and chairs. The shade trees were huge, and there were trellises of ivy running up the side of the building, with rose bushes lining the walkway. After noticing the dreary look of the outside of the building, Mama was pleased to see the pleasantry of roses and ivy.

Amy and Mama’s visit made timid little Isla come alive. They sat next to the family of Jessie Whitman, one of the girls who had started the same time as Isla. Mr. and Mrs. Whitman were cordial and said it was nice to meet a family of one of the other students.

During lunch, Isla didn’t stop talking as she told them about her classes. You wouldn’t believe all the sewing machines in our work-room, and I meet my quota every day, said Isla proudly.

I’m glad you have settled in, said Mama. I’ve rented out the two bedrooms. My Sunday afternoon dinners are a success, so we won’t be able to stay long.

Isla was sad for them to go, but she understood and relished the time they had together. Mama and Amy caught a ride back to the train station with Mr. and Mrs. Whitman.

They arrived home just in time to get supper served, most of which Mama had prepared before she had left home. They were running late, but the guests understood and were delighted to see the sparkle in Mama’s eyes and the cheerfulness of their server, Amy.

During evening dinner at Archer’s, still excited about her visit from Mama and Amy, Isla asked the other students at her table, Did you see my mama and sister come and visit me today? The girls smiled, responding with a yes, or a simple nod. What a great day this has been, thought Isla.

That night Isla and Jessie talked together about their families.

My mother wants me to become a seamstress, Jessie told Isla. She thinks that would be a good occupation after I graduate from high school. She doesn’t want me to go away to college. My mother said she would be lonely if I left home.

I love to sew and design dresses, said Isla. But I didn’t want to come here; my mama made me. My father recently died, and we don’t have much money. Mama wants me to learn more and to improve my dressmaking skills so I can sew for our neighbors and help with family expenses.

I’ve seen your work. You are really good. I think your mother is right, Jessie replied, giving Isla a smile.

I know, but I miss my mother and sister. I’ll be happy when I can go home.

Before Isla went to bed that night, she drew a star on her calendar. It certainly had been a special day. Isla said her prayers with Susie before bed which included Jessie and her family.

Jessie and Isla became good friends. They sat next to each other during meal-time. Having Jessie as a friend made the days go faster. She was a year older than Isla, a spindly girl, with doe-like eyes, who wore her hair in pigtails. Mama and Amy wrote to Isla weekly, and she shared her letters with Jessie. Her parents came every Sunday and included Isla in their picnic lunches. Isla looked forward to Jessie’s family meetings and wished she had a daddy like Jessie’s.

Mr. Whitman had an average build. He looked younger than his age, but his bushy mustache gave him a fatherly appearance, and he was always smiling. Mrs. Whitman was short, stout, and wore her slightly graying hair in short finger waves. Jessie looked more like her father, with her dark eyes and brown hair, and she, too, was always smiling.

Jessie’s father gave Isla his undivided attention. Come sit next to me, he said, patting the bench seat next to him. He put his arm around her, giving her a squeeze, doing the same to Jessie. My two girls, he said as he squeezed them both. Mr. Whitman had wanted to have another child, but due to complications during Jessie’s birth, Mrs. Whitman could not have any more children.

***

Mama and Amy visited Isla again at the end of the next month. This time Mama brought enough oatmeal-raisin cookies to share with Jessie’s family, who raved over how delicious they were. That made Isla proud. Mama also noticed the attention Jessie’s father was paying to Isla. She appreciated his kindness because Isla didn’t have a father to look up to.

Graduation day finally came. It was a Friday, and Mama and Amy were there to see Isla graduate. She had studied hard and made use of every spare minute during her three-month session, but she was ready to put school behind her. Jessie’s parents were there, too.

The ceremony was short, and each girl received a certificate of completion. Mama, can I frame and hang my certificate on our dining room wall? asked Isla. I want everyone to see it.

You sure can, said Mama. I’m so proud of you.

Can we give you a ride to the station? offered Mr. Whitman as they were leaving.

Thank you, said Mama. I would appreciate that. The six of them squeezed into his new, shiny 1903 Packard automobile.

At the train station, they all said good-bye. I’m going to miss you, Jessie, said Isla.

I’ll miss you, too. I’ll write you, and I hope you’ll write back and let me know all about your neighborhood customers, Jessie said with a smile.

Mr. Whitman picked up Isla in his arms and gave her a big kiss on the cheek and an extremely long hug. When he put her down, Isla threw her arms around his waist, giving him a hug back. Mama knew they had developed a close friendship during their Sunday lunches but thought the kiss and long hug were inappropriate. Not wanting to cause a problem, she didn’t say anything.

Thank you for the ride. I hope we see each other again sometime, said Mama, giving a nod and smile to Mr. and Mrs. Whitman. If you are ever in our area, I would like to have you for dinner to show my appreciation for the kindness you have shown Isla.

That would be nice, replied Mrs. Whitman. Thank you for the invitation.

Jessie and Isla waved to each other until they were out of sight.

***

On the train ride home, Isla was bubbly, bouncing up and down on her seat, and spouted out everything she had learned.

When Amy could get a word in, she said, A new family moved in next door. There is a girl my age, and she has an older brother. I think he goes to college.

Have you met them yet? asked Isla.

No, but school starts next week, and we’ll have a chance to meet the girl. It will be fun to have a friend next door, stated Amy.

***

The first day of school, Amy made friends with the new neighbor girl, Martha. Isla didn’t go out of her way to be friendly. Many thought she was stuck-up; she was just shy.

It didn’t take long for the word to get out that Isla had spent the summer attending Archer’s and was ready to take on some dressmaking assignments.

Did you see the dress Isla had on today? one of the girls at school asked her sister as they walked home.

Yes. I bet it even had matching bloomers.

I heard she makes all her own clothes and her sister’s, too.

I wish I had a dress like the one Amy was wearing, replied the other girl.

Let’s ask Mother if we can have Isla sew for us.

Many mothers in town found it difficult to trust a fifteen-year-old with