Hannah's Rainbow: Every Color Beautiful

Chapter Two

Hannah grew into a lanky child, all awkward feet and clumsy hands, her blonde hair often unkempt as she roamed the well-worn sidewalks of her street. When Hannah started school in the fall of 1917, Ma tried to tame the stubborn curls with a brush. She threatened to chop off Hannah's hair if she didn't comply, so it was with a deep set scowl on her face that Hannah tolerated her mother's ministrations with the brush and a few ribbons every morning.

Saturday dawned bright and beautiful in late April of 1918, but chores called to be done.. Hannah gave in to waking and pushed herself up in bed and went to the window.

In the yard below, Pa was in the vegetable garden with a hoe. Behind him, the sun peeked over the roof of the small barn, stretching the shadows long across the grass. The chickens were out, pecking here and there. Pa's hands were deft and sure, his stance strong, the motions well-rehearsed as he worked the earth.

Hannah withdrew from the window and went downstairs, the third step from the top creaking in protest the way it always did. Over the years, it seemed to grow louder.

Wafts of freshly baked bread gave testimony that today was indeed Saturday, Ma's baking day.

After breakfast and helping her mom with the baking that morning, Hannah spent the remainder of the day outside playing with two of her best friends, sisters Louisa and Rosemary Foley from down the street.

The girls strolled through Hatford Park across the street from their houses.

"Soon it'll be warm enough for the boys to swim in the pond again," Louisa said with a giggle.

"Yeah, and then we can spy on them and get them in trouble for swimming naked," Hannah whispered, joining in the laugher.

Rosemary pouted at the older girls. Two years younger, she didn't understand what was so funny. "What are you talkin' 'bout?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing," Louisa replied. "Just looking forward to summer and doing stuff like picking blackberries."

"I love blackberries!" Rosemary exclaimed.

Hannah skipped along with the sisters. She was counting down the days left of school, anxious to run free through the tall grass in her bare feet as the blades tickled her knees. She longed for the dirtied hands that were the constant source of dismay for Ma whenever she and her brothers were called home to supper. Little did she know that her days of fun would be delayed.

By Monday morning, Hannah woke with a sore throat. When she began coughing during breakfast, Ma took her temperature.

"You do have a bit of a fever, dear," Ma said, feeling her daughter's slightly clammy forehead. "We'll keep you home from school today. Hopefully it's just a touch of a cold. You'll likely be feeling right as rain tomorrow."

"I hope so."

Feeling drained, Hannah trudged back upstairs and flopped into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin as she felt a chill come on.

As the day wore on, Hannah's condition worsened. Her nose began to run, and her eyes itched and were inflamed. As much as Ma cautioned her not to rub at her eyes, Hannah couldn't help herself. Ma had her suspicions, and they were confirmed after two days when slightly raised red dots appeared along Hannah's hairline and behind her ears.

"What's wrong with me?" Hannah asked, grumpy. "I thought you said it was just a cold."

Coaxing a spoonful of porridge to her daughter's mouth, Ma said, "You must eat to keep up your strength."