LED FROM THE HEART
A SHORT STORY BY RICHARD SWAIN
WHAT I REMEMBER
I am not sure how old I was when I first inquired about my beginning. With my earliest memories I knew I had no mother or father as those around me. My mind searches for remembered experiences, and my thoughts are clouded with a haze of colors, tastes, and feelings seemingly too buried to make sense.
My name is Jessica Samuel, I always knew my name. I lived on an apple farm in northwestern Pennsylvania and guess my birth to be around 1835. I have the name Samuel because the man and woman of the farm were named Samuel, and they gave me their name. I have long dreamed that my mother named me Jessica for a special reason that might guide my life, I will always wonder.
Until age ten, I never traveled beyond the farm or nearby farms. I lived in a barn near the Samuels' house that held several milking cows, a pen of chickens, a pen of pigs, and one horse named Rosie. I had no reason to feel despair because I had nothing to compare to another life. Each day was filled with chores from early morning until evening dinner in the house.
Milking the cows was my first morning responsibility. For breakfast I was allowed to drink milk along with bread given to me the previous night. I slept in an area that had a metal spring bed, a white chest of drawers, and a lantern that could be lit for one hour each evening. With two heavy blankets, and the warmth of the animals I never lacked for comfort.
The Samuels had no children. I was to call him Mister and her Misses. Years later I was able to estimate the farm to be nearly fifty acres. With such land and only three people to work the orchard, tend the gardens, and care for the animals, I was not allowed schooling.
As I reflect back upon my life, my earliest joy was being taught to read. The local teacher lived at a nearby farm and walked by our orchard each morning and late afternoon. Her name was Miss Rachel, and at age six, Misses said I could have one hour of reading instruction each day. Miss Rachel gave me my first book, McGuffey's Electric Primer, and it was to be my closest companion for many years. Although my book was torn and spoiled in many ways, to me it was a magical light from another world. Often while collecting eggs in the morning or feeding the pigs, I would think upon a word I had learned, and laugh to myself at its sound or how I might use the word as I spoke to myself.
The main part of each day was spent in the orchard with Mister and Rosie. After finishing the morning barn chores, I would call out to Mister. He would hitch Rosie to a long cart and we would go into the orchard for repairs. From time to time, a man or a family would come to the farm seeking food for the day. On such occasions, all who were capable would work for their meal. Those were my favorite days as I did not have to struggle picking up the largest branches that would be found on the ground. My main job was to collect fallen apples that could be used for cider that Misses sold to neighbors and in the town.
From time to time, I would find a piece of a newspaper or magazine on the ground, and I would save it for my evening lantern hour. One of my special memories was a picture of a pretty woman wearing a beautiful coat, it was colored pink. From that day, I decided pink was my favorite color, and I would often dream that the woman was my mother looking to find me.
FRIENDS
Miss Rachel was my best friend. She would always hug me in the late afternoon as we started our reading hour. She declared one May 1st that this was my birthday and brought me a box of six colored ribbons. It may seem to you dear reader that this is a small matter of little consequence. To me, having a day to claim as my birthday was an important building block of strength and awareness of my personal being. The barn animals were my other friends, and I treasured each name I bestowed upon them. The rooster that lived outside the barn I named President because he always made the most noise. The cows were named One, Two, and Three. Sometimes I would milk Three first just to have fun with them. At a younger age, I would be sad when one of my chickens or pigs were butchered by Mister, but as I grew, I better understood the balance each brings to life.
Each Sunday, the families in our area would gather for church one place or another. This would be an opportunity to meet other children, but often I was left out or teased about my tattered clothing, or that I had no mother. More often than not, I would make an excuse and stay in the barn or play outside in the orchard.
SUMS
If reading was a great joy and discovery, learning sums was of equal pride (one of my favorite words). I would count everything and everyone. I would add up all the apple trees in a particular area, and remember the differences in each section. I took more time to study why one area had healthier trees, and another area smaller trees. I would marvel at the life water would bring to the soil, or how rocky and hard soil would stay fallow.
Once in awhile, I would make an observation to Mister about the trees, or about water, and he would pat my head and say how smart I was. I soon understood how encouragement was like water to the soul, and that I would try to encourage others if given the opportunity.
THE TOWN
As I grew older, Mister would often take me into Hartstown to deliver cider and pick up supplies. My favorite stop was the general store filled with dresses, candies, and goods for every need in a community like ours. The store was named Heller's and Mr. and Mrs. Heller became my special friends at this time in my life. Each time I would visit they would give me a small piece of candy. I quickly decided it was of greater enjoyment to take the candy home and better savor the flavor during lantern time. On one such visit to Heller's, I was listening to Mr. Heller adding up sums for a farmer's purchase. Just like counting apple trees, I could not help but add the figures myself as he went down the list. When he announced the total, my face reddened and I blurted out "that's not right." Mr. Heller looked at me and gave a hearty guffaw. The farmer looked at me and asked what was my total sum? After giving my answer, Mrs. Heller took the sheet, went down the list and announced that I was correct. As you might guess, all were surprised I did this without need of paper.
One evening after dinner at the house, Mister said that Mr. Heller had asked if I could work at the store three days each week and earn four cents per hour for being their assistant. Mister said he would allow it on the condition that we split the wages to cover help at the farm, I quickly agreed.
A NEW ROOM
One late afternoon, a wagon arrived at the farm loaded with lumber. Mister would not tell me what he would do with the lumber, but after weeks of labor, a room was added to the side of the house. As I grew older, I had learned to pray, and believe that life can change for the better. I felt selfish for praying that this room might be for me, but pray this prayer I did.
After coming back from the orchard one afternoon, Miss Rachel was standing by the house and not the barn as her usual place. Misses came outside and both had big smiles on their faces. Mister joined the gathering, put a blindfold over my eyes, and led me inside.
In the new room, I was spun around five times and the blindfold was removed. How can I describe a moment so joyous? A pink rug covered a large portion of the floor, the bed had a white backboard and the blanket covering was a pattern of yellows and blues. As wonderful as the rug and bed appeared, my favorite piece was a table and chair. On the table was an oil lamp, a writing pad, and three pencils.
SCHOOL
At age 12, it was agreed that I could go to the school in Hartstown in the morning and work at Heller's in the afternoon. My wage was increased to five cents per hour, and I was allowed to keep my earnings and buy my own necessities. It is hard to describe my satisfaction upon purchasing my first dress and pair of shoes.
I greatly missed Miss Rachel as my teacher, but was pleased to meet Mr. Minert as our town teacher. He came from Hamburg Germany and filled us with stories of his country and famous people like Martin Luther.
Both Miss Rachel and I were quite proud when I quickly became Mr. Minert's helper and assisted the younger children with reading, arithmetic, and writing of letters. Even at this young age I was gaining the understanding that education is an important way forward in life. It was at this time that I decided to be a teacher for my life's calling.
PHILADELPHIA
In 1848, the Girls' Normal School for Teacher Preparation was established. It was the first municipally supported teachers' school in the United States. Even at the age of thirteen, Mr. Minert thought I could qualify for entrance. Books were sent to Hartstown for my preparation. With help from Miss Rachel and Mr. Minert, I studied when any free time was available. To help with my preparation, it was agreed that I could live in town with the Hellers.
On May 1, 1849, I was surprised with my first ever birthday cake. It was a lemon chiffon cake, and yes with pink icing. Sitting on the table next to the cake was an envelope addressed to Mr. Minert. I tried to hand him the letter, but he said it was for me to read. Around the table stood Mister, Misses, Miss Rachel, Mr. and Mrs. Heller, and Mr. Minert. As I opened the envelope, I quickly saw the letter was from the Girl's Normal School. My chest started heaving, and with tears flowing down my face I read "Jessica Samuel has been awarded an exception for attendance." The minimum age was 16, but having achieved the highest marks for the new class applicants, I was offered admission.
THE TRAIN
As the time drew near for my departure, plans were made. Philadelphia was almost 400 miles from Hartstown, and it was decided that I should travel by train. Miss Rachel volunteered to be my chaperone. As you might have guessed, Mr. and Mrs. Heller covered these expenses for which I was so very grateful.
The trip would take 17 hours plus additional time for stops as needed. This was quite an adventure for two young ladies who never traveled beyond their community. We would leave in the afternoon, travel through the night , and arrive sometime late morning the following day.
It was early August, and while the days were warm, the nights could be quite cold. Mister and Misses gave me a new coat for school. I knew what a sacrifice this expense would mean to them, but they were determined. Our parting was bittersweet as I reflected upon our many years together.
As the train pulled away from the station, beautiful puffed clouds filled the sky, and while the countryside was the typical summer brown, every sight was enchanting. Within hours we crossed the mighty Allegheny River. I had read about this river, but seeing such a vast expanse of water was breathtaking . A large number of boats were going in both directions and I fancied stories in my mind on their adventures and destinations. We had our dinner early as neither of us could resist the wonderful smells coming from our picnic basket. Miss Rachel and I shared story after story planning how the years ahead would keep us together like the best of sisters. My heart was full of gratitude , and again I felt the hand of my mother upon me.
LOSS
As night approached, our train car became quite dark, save for two small oil lamps in the front and the rear. With the swaying of the carriage, and the rattle of the tracks, I was soon in a deep sleep.
It is difficult to find words that express the tragedy of this night. As I think back, and I have thought differently at times, some things I know for sure. Within a moment, I felt both immense pressure and horrific noise. The pain and the sounds seemed to go on for an eternity. I felt a tumbling sensation, great heat, saw fire, then darkness and cold. I do not know how long I lay away from the twisted train cars in a wet field. I recall shivering as if I had little clothing, felt suffocated as if my mouth was being covered, and a heavy weight upon my body. I screamed out as the bright light struck my eyes.
HOSPITAL DAYS
Someone, or several people were holding me down while I tried to flail my arms and legs to be free. A man in a white coat was leaning over me, pulling open my eyelids while holding a small lamp. A damp cloth was placed over my face and a pungent odor filled my nose. I lapsed into a darkness.
I awoke to voices nearby, and lifted my head to look around. The room was filled with perhaps 20 beds. Children and older people lay or sat upon them in various states of suffering or confusion. As a child, I broke my arm one day falling from an apple tree and was taken to the town doctor. My first assumption was that I was in a large doctor's office. I tried to sit up, but fell back with weakness. I saw bruises on my arms, and one leg was heavily bandaged and partially soaked in blood.
A small table was beside my bed. On the table was a glass of water and a bowl of soup with a spoon. My throat was dry, and the water brought some clarity to my mind. Again I quickly tried to sit up, and this time was able to keep a sitting position. Frantically looking around I cried out "Rachel." Again and again I called out her name as others looked at me with strange concern. As I turned my head toward the front of the bed, I saw a hook holding my coat. I pulled the coat down upon my face and quietly wept.
Years later, I gained a better appreciation for Pennsylvania Hospital. Founded in 1751 by Dr. Thomas Bond and Benjamin Franklin, this hospital cared for the sick, the poor, and the insane. For my days it was a place of great sadness, and later of even greater joy.
THE NOTE
Several mornings later, I awoke to a note on my table. The note was on a small piece of paper and written in pencil. Fear thou not; for I am with thee: Be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea I will uphold thee. As I have shared with you, church was not a positive experience for me, and therefore the Bible meant little to my understanding of life. The note was kept in my gown pocket, and became worn from repeated readings. For the first time in my life, I felt a voice within me that was neither mine nor my mother's.
WHAT I ALREADY KNEW
For the first week, the doctor and nurses would only care for my physical needs. My repeated requests for information were left unanswered. One afternoon, a man with a white collar around his neck came and sat beside my bed. As he reached out to take my hand, I cried out and turned my head away. He told me that Miss Rachel had died in the train car. He said that a letter arrived from Hartstown asking about my condition, and that another man would soon talk to me about issues. I asked if he wrote my note, he gave me a warm smile, and I gave him my hand. Can the heart be so burdened that the body cannot respond? I fell into a state of numbness, not caring to eat, speak, or move.
THE ISSUES
Several days later, a man appeared at my bed side dressed in a black suit and wearing a tie. He said he was the hospital administrator. Because I was never adopted, I would be placed under the care of the State. He stated that a letter was sent to Hartstown describing my recovery, but visitors were not allowed. Once I was physically able, I would be sent to the Orphan Society of Philadelphia until matters could be settled.
For fourteen years I have been alone in many ways. Now I found myself alone in a different way. Disconnected from anyone who might help guide me for what lay ahead, I needed to set my own path forward.
THE ORPHAN SOCIETY
The building was on Market Street. Admission was restricted to "destitute fatherless children of married parents." It was further declared that girls were not admitted over the age of nine and were housed until the age of eighteen. Boys could not enter after seven and left at age fifteen. You may wonder why was I heading in this direction given my circumstance and age. The answer lies in another goal of the Society, "to rescue from ignorance." Once again, education was providing me opportunities that others might miss, they needed teachers!
For the first month, I was given no information that issues of my circumstance were being discussed. Whenever possible, I would attempt to inquire about returning to Hartstown, or the Girls' Normal School.
As you might imagine, sickness can often be found in overcrowded and poorly ventilated spaces. I fell into a period of morning discomfort that challenged my energy, but I was careful to not speak of this to those in charge. Rather I chose to focus on what was positive, and for me this was teaching.
TEACHING OTHERS
Twenty girls from ages 5 to 12 were in my class. The younger and more recently admitted ones were often malnourished and inattentive. A number of the older girls had little interest in learning and could be a distraction to the few who were eager to progress. I took each day as an opportunity to show kindness and attention to the specific need of each student as best I could.
Nine years ago I was handed a torn and soiled McGuffy's, now I had twenty new books sitting on my desk. Each child was given an early morning work responsibility according to age. My class started at nine o'clock and ended at noon when a small lunch was served. Afternoons brought more work. Not everyone would agree with me, but I often felt the orphanage was more of a workhouse than an institution to change the lives of unfortunate children.
SEEING PROGRESS
Often I would think of Miss Rachel. As I observed slow but steady improvement in my students' reading skills, I would be reminded of her joy in my progress. The matron who oversaw my teaching also noticed a positive change in the interest and attitude of my children. It was a day for celebrating when she announced that the students could come back to the classroom for a late afternoon hour of drawing and games.
A LIFE UPSIDE DOWN
One morning after my third month of teaching, I was told to come to the director's office. As I walked in, I immediately sensed a feeling of anger toward me. I wondered what I might have done that could be upsetting. The nurse from the infirmary was in attendance, and I was told that a physical examination was required. I expressed confusion as I had not been ill.
What followed in the next twenty minutes was as dark and disturbing as the train nightmare. I was taken to the sick room and led into a curtained area with a white cushioned table bed. My teaching smock and under clothes were almost torn from me, and I was laid out on the table. I closed my eyes tightly and hardly breathed as I was touched and prodded as never before. Several times I screamed out in pain, but no consolation was given, no words spoken to me. Toward the end of this examination, I remember the doctor saying, "as I expected."
I was led back to the Director's Office and seated in front of her desk. She looked at me with such disappointment in her eyes and said I could no longer teach as I was with child.
Bewildered of mind and feeling faint of body, I was momentarily speechless. "Speak up child" shouted the directer. Again I struggled to find words, and only mumbled softly "it cannot be."
STRUGGLE AND BALANCE
Any girl of reasonable age knows her body, and is capable of recalling events in life. Over the next few hours, the only answer quickly clarified in my mind. Again I was forced back to the wet field strewn with train wreckage. Only now did I understand that someone had their way with me.
How mysterious is the mind as it seeks to consider moments in life and offer thoughts that could affect a lifetime. I was resolute in my silence and would say nothing, receiving verbal blows of hurtful accusations.
I was sentenced to the laundry for work from morning until early evening. I had a brief lunch with the other children , but was not allowed to participate in other activities.
A LAUNDRY LIFE
The conditions in the laundry were dreadful. In a dark basement room with little ventilation and light, we struggled with heavy loads of wash. Water would be heated in large metal boilers and then transferred to wooden buckets with washboards. The soap bars would wear upon our hands, and open sores were a constant suffering. The other girls were older and in many ways more wise to the challenges of life, especially within a large city. I was quickly told that they would take my child from me. I had already declared to myself that this would not be. If I was to bear a child, then I would be a mother at all cost. It soon became apparent that laundry life had become a blessing, providing a way to move forward.
PLANS ARE MADE
The orphanage laundry also washed baby clothing for the hospital. Once each week, clean clothing was delivered and soiled clothing picked up. Over time I worked my way into these pickups and deliveries for the purpose of observing the baby rooms. Difficult was the decision to forget Hartstown and those who shaped my youth. I was too fearful that I would be separated from my child. My plans needed to go in a different direction. A new friend brought me the answer.
SARAH
Sarah was almost 18 and soon to be discharged from the orphanage. We worked together in the laundry and developed a trust and friendship. Her older sister was married with two young children and a husband. They wanted a better life out west. Sarah was to join them for travel to Independence Missouri and then to join a wagon train.
Older girls with a relative were allowed a monthly visit, and Sarah spoke of my need and our friendship. It was a possible consideration that I might be able to join their family.
CHOLERA
Cholera struck Philadelphia in 1849. While not completely understood at the time, fouled drinking water was considered a primary cause. Due to prior outbreaks, the orphanage and hospital were conscientious about boiling water for drinking and food preparation. Among other safeguards, baby adoptions were temporarily suspended.
BIRTH AND NEW LIFE
I awoke in the middle of the night with a gripping pain in my lower back, and then like a wave, the pain moved around. The nurse was summoned and I was transferred to the hospital. Yes I was fearful, yes I felt alone, but it is also true to say I had a peace. Not only was I aware they would take my child, but I was terrified they would not let me hold my baby. I needed to see the face and study the body. I needed to be able to identify my son or daughter.
I remember with kindness those who helped me that night. Perhaps they took pity on a young girl giving birth, or perhaps like a teacher, they truly cared for those they served. With the last push, my little girl was born. My plan for a plea was not necessary as the child was laid on my chest. "She is to be called Rachel, please, she is to be called Rachel." My daughter was taken away.
RETURN
After several days in bed, I was back in the laundry, but allowed to assist in the hanging of the wash and not the scrubbing. I was careful to show no interest in the childbirth as if it was an unfortunate experience.
The director soon spoke to me and commented on how I might return to teaching in the near future. Again, I acted uninterested in all matters, but said the physical work of laundry service was satisfactory.
A NEW FUTURE AWAITS
The laundry room held keys for both the orphanage and the service entrance of the hospital. Sarah's sister Helene had set the date for our departure. Helene and her husband William were both twenty years of age, son Henry was two, and daughter Hannah was four. William was an apprentice carpenter, and had saved enough money for stage coach travel to Indianapolis as the first step of the journey west. On the evening of our escape, Sarah and I loaded the horse drawn laundry cart with the clean linens and baby clothing. At the bottom of one of the wicker baskets, we placed a smaller basket capable of holding a baby. We entered the hospital and proceeded with our normal practice of delivery and pick-up.
You may not believe in providence, but this evening a greater power was upon me at my most urgent need. Slipping away to the infant room, I went unnoticed and quietly entered the room.
Earlier, I spoke of needing to examine my daughter in the brief moment as she lay upon my chest. I saw what I was looking for in a small birthmark at the back of her neck. At least thirty infant small cribs were arranged in rows within the room
OUR APPEARANCE
I will pause briefly in my narrative to speak about my daughter and tell you something of myself. We both have dark hair, brown eyes, and fair skin. I was always thought of as being skinny but with a height greater than most girls of my age.
WE MEET AGAIN
As I went down the first row, the babies seemed so alike with their wraps and head covers. I was both frightened and elated to see there were names on each crib. After the second, third, and fourth rows, a fear came upon me and I was filled with doubt. As I entered the final row, my eyes fell upon the third crib. Even from a distance, I knew this was my daughter. As I drew closer, my heart filled with an overflowing joy as I saw the name "Rachel." Yes, I instinctively turned her head slightly and observed her birthmark. Quietly placing Rachel in the basket, I covered her with linens and found Sarah. We left through a different door to gain time before the cart driver was alerted to our absence.
HELENE AND WILLIAM
At the planned meeting spot we saw Sarah's family and quickly walked to their lodging. I had no experience of city life and how people of modest means might live. It was difficult to see how four people could live in such a small space. The alley was was strewn with garbage, and crowded with people pushing in all directions.
William lit a small oil lamp and the children were tucked under a blanket on the bed. Helene started to weep and was unable to speak. William said they had three coach tickets but had no further money for a fourth.
Sarah said she would not go, and would continue to make her way staying in Philadelphia. Helene only wailed louder and I protested that it would be me who would find another way. William said he needed several days to seek a solution before any such decision was made.
BEYOND FRIENDSHIP
As we awoke the next morning, Sarah was not in the room. Helene and William went searching while I cared for the children. They returned late in the afternoon with no success. After two additional days of combing the city, Helene accepted Sarah's decision to provide an opportunity for her friend and this small child. With a heavy heart and yet sincere kindness, Helene and William welcomed Rachel and me into their family.
Once again in my short life, another person has entered in with a force of power and love that shakes me to my foundation.
LIKE A SISTER
Sarah will always be my special friend, Helene quickly became a caring older sister. My love for Rachel was so profound that I could be frightened for fear of a mistake in her care. Helene was a wonderful mother, nurturing and patient. She was the teacher and I was the most attentive student.
As you would imagine, stagecoach travel is slow, bumpy, and quite dusty. The distance to Indianapolis was over 600 miles and would take days. The three children had to be held at all times on the road due to the cramped condition inside the coach. William's carpentry skill was critical with numerous breakdowns along the way.
INDIANAPOLIS
The railroads arrived in this area several years earlier, and the young city was bustling with activity and new growth. We found temporary lodging in a tent city on the outskirts of town while William sought work to provide for this extended family.
As more people traveled west from the eastern cities, they also brought the diseases with them. It was at this time that Helene was taken ill, and cholera was suspected. Days turned into weeks and Helene was having a difficult recovery. The primary cure was drinking large amounts of salted water. She was unable to retain food, and the ongoing loss of body fluids continued her decline.
I cared for Rachel, Henry, and Hannah, while providing whatever comfort possible for Helene. Hannah was my wonderful helper with the little ones. While fighting with great courage and determination, Helene passed from us.
LOST
William was struck with a profound grief and loss of direction. I kept all three children in my tent, and relied on the goodness and charity of others. William would disappear for days, and my greatest fear was that he would not return.
After a prolonged absence, he appeared one evening and said he had been offered work. We would travel down the Wabash River to New Harmony, where he would be employed in the building of keel boats that plied the river with commerce.
SOMETHING IN A NAME
Words have always had a special place in my heart. New Harmony rang within me as powerful as the sun rising in the morning, or love as I looked upon these three beautiful children.
As we settled again in a New Harmony tent city, a grateful routine was established. William would bring Henry and Hannah to my tent in the early morning as he left for a long day's work. I would care for the children, and from time to time other children within our small community.
While older men had an important place in my earlier years, I did not experience friendship with a boy or a young man as I was now finding with William. He was a kind and caring man, who loved his children, and would go out of his way to help others.
HOME
As the months went by, I started teaching at a new school established nearby. I was able to bring the children with me, and Hannah was my treasured helper. William was able to have Sunday off from work, and started to build a home on a plot of ground that looked down upon the beautiful river. With only one day a week available, the building progress was slow, but picnics made this the special day of the week.
LOVE AND FAMILY
On my sixteenth birthday, William asked me to marry him, I said yes. Rachel was officially adopted. We now live in our new home, this blessed family of five. Soon I will write to those in Hartstown and tell them of my abundant joy and of the love that surrounds my life.
RICHARD SWAIN
A SHORT STORY BY RICHARD SWAIN
WHAT I REMEMBER
I am not sure how old I was when I first inquired about my beginning. With my earliest memories I knew I had no mother or father as those around me. My mind searches for remembered experiences, and my thoughts are clouded with a haze of colors, tastes, and feelings seemingly too buried to make sense.
My name is Jessica Samuel, I always knew my name. I lived on an apple farm in northwestern Pennsylvania and guess my birth to be around 1835. I have the name Samuel because the man and woman of the farm were named Samuel, and they gave me their name. I have long dreamed that my mother named me Jessica for a special reason that might guide my life, I will always wonder.
Until age ten, I never traveled beyond the farm or nearby farms. I lived in a barn near the Samuels' house that held several milking cows, a pen of chickens, a pen of pigs, and one horse named Rosie. I had no reason to feel despair because I had nothing to compare to another life. Each day was filled with chores from early morning until evening dinner in the house.
Milking the cows was my first morning responsibility. For breakfast I was allowed to drink milk along with bread given to me the previous night. I slept in an area that had a metal spring bed, a white chest of drawers, and a lantern that could be lit for one hour each evening. With two heavy blankets, and the warmth of the animals I never lacked for comfort.
The Samuels had no children. I was to call him Mister and her Misses. Years later I was able to estimate the farm to be nearly fifty acres. With such land and only three people to work the orchard, tend the gardens, and care for the animals, I was not allowed schooling.
As I reflect back upon my life, my earliest joy was being taught to read. The local teacher lived at a nearby farm and walked by our orchard each morning and late afternoon. Her name was Miss Rachel, and at age six, Misses said I could have one hour of reading instruction each day. Miss Rachel gave me my first book, McGuffey's Electric Primer, and it was to be my closest companion for many years. Although my book was torn and spoiled in many ways, to me it was a magical light from another world. Often while collecting eggs in the morning or feeding the pigs, I would think upon a word I had learned, and laugh to myself at its sound or how I might use the word as I spoke to myself.
The main part of each day was spent in the orchard with Mister and Rosie. After finishing the morning barn chores, I would call out to Mister. He would hitch Rosie to a long cart and we would go into the orchard for repairs. From time to time, a man or a family would come to the farm seeking food for the day. On such occasions, all who were capable would work for their meal. Those were my favorite days as I did not have to struggle picking up the largest branches that would be found on the ground. My main job was to collect fallen apples that could be used for cider that Misses sold to neighbors and in the town.
From time to time, I would find a piece of a newspaper or magazine on the ground, and I would save it for my evening lantern hour. One of my special memories was a picture of a pretty woman wearing a beautiful coat, it was colored pink. From that day, I decided pink was my favorite color, and I would often dream that the woman was my mother looking to find me.
FRIENDS
Miss Rachel was my best friend. She would always hug me in the late afternoon as we started our reading hour. She declared one May 1st that this was my birthday and brought me a box of six colored ribbons. It may seem to you dear reader that this is a small matter of little consequence. To me, having a day to claim as my birthday was an important building block of strength and awareness of my personal being. The barn animals were my other friends, and I treasured each name I bestowed upon them. The rooster that lived outside the barn I named President because he always made the most noise. The cows were named One, Two, and Three. Sometimes I would milk Three first just to have fun with them. At a younger age, I would be sad when one of my chickens or pigs were butchered by Mister, but as I grew, I better understood the balance each brings to life.
Each Sunday, the families in our area would gather for church one place or another. This would be an opportunity to meet other children, but often I was left out or teased about my tattered clothing, or that I had no mother. More often than not, I would make an excuse and stay in the barn or play outside in the orchard.
SUMS
If reading was a great joy and discovery, learning sums was of equal pride (one of my favorite words). I would count everything and everyone. I would add up all the apple trees in a particular area, and remember the differences in each section. I took more time to study why one area had healthier trees, and another area smaller trees. I would marvel at the life water would bring to the soil, or how rocky and hard soil would stay fallow.
Once in awhile, I would make an observation to Mister about the trees, or about water, and he would pat my head and say how smart I was. I soon understood how encouragement was like water to the soul, and that I would try to encourage others if given the opportunity.
THE TOWN
As I grew older, Mister would often take me into Hartstown to deliver cider and pick up supplies. My favorite stop was the general store filled with dresses, candies, and goods for every need in a community like ours. The store was named Heller's and Mr. and Mrs. Heller became my special friends at this time in my life. Each time I would visit they would give me a small piece of candy. I quickly decided it was of greater enjoyment to take the candy home and better savor the flavor during lantern time. On one such visit to Heller's, I was listening to Mr. Heller adding up sums for a farmer's purchase. Just like counting apple trees, I could not help but add the figures myself as he went down the list. When he announced the total, my face reddened and I blurted out "that's not right." Mr. Heller looked at me and gave a hearty guffaw. The farmer looked at me and asked what was my total sum? After giving my answer, Mrs. Heller took the sheet, went down the list and announced that I was correct. As you might guess, all were surprised I did this without need of paper.
One evening after dinner at the house, Mister said that Mr. Heller had asked if I could work at the store three days each week and earn four cents per hour for being their assistant. Mister said he would allow it on the condition that we split the wages to cover help at the farm, I quickly agreed.
A NEW ROOM
One late afternoon, a wagon arrived at the farm loaded with lumber. Mister would not tell me what he would do with the lumber, but after weeks of labor, a room was added to the side of the house. As I grew older, I had learned to pray, and believe that life can change for the better. I felt selfish for praying that this room might be for me, but pray this prayer I did.
After coming back from the orchard one afternoon, Miss Rachel was standing by the house and not the barn as her usual place. Misses came outside and both had big smiles on their faces. Mister joined the gathering, put a blindfold over my eyes, and led me inside.
In the new room, I was spun around five times and the blindfold was removed. How can I describe a moment so joyous? A pink rug covered a large portion of the floor, the bed had a white backboard and the blanket covering was a pattern of yellows and blues. As wonderful as the rug and bed appeared, my favorite piece was a table and chair. On the table was an oil lamp, a writing pad, and three pencils.
SCHOOL
At age 12, it was agreed that I could go to the school in Hartstown in the morning and work at Heller's in the afternoon. My wage was increased to five cents per hour, and I was allowed to keep my earnings and buy my own necessities. It is hard to describe my satisfaction upon purchasing my first dress and pair of shoes.
I greatly missed Miss Rachel as my teacher, but was pleased to meet Mr. Minert as our town teacher. He came from Hamburg Germany and filled us with stories of his country and famous people like Martin Luther.
Both Miss Rachel and I were quite proud when I quickly became Mr. Minert's helper and assisted the younger children with reading, arithmetic, and writing of letters. Even at this young age I was gaining the understanding that education is an important way forward in life. It was at this time that I decided to be a teacher for my life's calling.
PHILADELPHIA
In 1848, the Girls' Normal School for Teacher Preparation was established. It was the first municipally supported teachers' school in the United States. Even at the age of thirteen, Mr. Minert thought I could qualify for entrance. Books were sent to Hartstown for my preparation. With help from Miss Rachel and Mr. Minert, I studied when any free time was available. To help with my preparation, it was agreed that I could live in town with the Hellers.
On May 1, 1849, I was surprised with my first ever birthday cake. It was a lemon chiffon cake, and yes with pink icing. Sitting on the table next to the cake was an envelope addressed to Mr. Minert. I tried to hand him the letter, but he said it was for me to read. Around the table stood Mister, Misses, Miss Rachel, Mr. and Mrs. Heller, and Mr. Minert. As I opened the envelope, I quickly saw the letter was from the Girl's Normal School. My chest started heaving, and with tears flowing down my face I read "Jessica Samuel has been awarded an exception for attendance." The minimum age was 16, but having achieved the highest marks for the new class applicants, I was offered admission.
THE TRAIN
As the time drew near for my departure, plans were made. Philadelphia was almost 400 miles from Hartstown, and it was decided that I should travel by train. Miss Rachel volunteered to be my chaperone. As you might have guessed, Mr. and Mrs. Heller covered these expenses for which I was so very grateful.
The trip would take 17 hours plus additional time for stops as needed. This was quite an adventure for two young ladies who never traveled beyond their community. We would leave in the afternoon, travel through the night , and arrive sometime late morning the following day.
It was early August, and while the days were warm, the nights could be quite cold. Mister and Misses gave me a new coat for school. I knew what a sacrifice this expense would mean to them, but they were determined. Our parting was bittersweet as I reflected upon our many years together.
As the train pulled away from the station, beautiful puffed clouds filled the sky, and while the countryside was the typical summer brown, every sight was enchanting. Within hours we crossed the mighty Allegheny River. I had read about this river, but seeing such a vast expanse of water was breathtaking . A large number of boats were going in both directions and I fancied stories in my mind on their adventures and destinations. We had our dinner early as neither of us could resist the wonderful smells coming from our picnic basket. Miss Rachel and I shared story after story planning how the years ahead would keep us together like the best of sisters. My heart was full of gratitude , and again I felt the hand of my mother upon me.
LOSS
As night approached, our train car became quite dark, save for two small oil lamps in the front and the rear. With the swaying of the carriage, and the rattle of the tracks, I was soon in a deep sleep.
It is difficult to find words that express the tragedy of this night. As I think back, and I have thought differently at times, some things I know for sure. Within a moment, I felt both immense pressure and horrific noise. The pain and the sounds seemed to go on for an eternity. I felt a tumbling sensation, great heat, saw fire, then darkness and cold. I do not know how long I lay away from the twisted train cars in a wet field. I recall shivering as if I had little clothing, felt suffocated as if my mouth was being covered, and a heavy weight upon my body. I screamed out as the bright light struck my eyes.
HOSPITAL DAYS
Someone, or several people were holding me down while I tried to flail my arms and legs to be free. A man in a white coat was leaning over me, pulling open my eyelids while holding a small lamp. A damp cloth was placed over my face and a pungent odor filled my nose. I lapsed into a darkness.
I awoke to voices nearby, and lifted my head to look around. The room was filled with perhaps 20 beds. Children and older people lay or sat upon them in various states of suffering or confusion. As a child, I broke my arm one day falling from an apple tree and was taken to the town doctor. My first assumption was that I was in a large doctor's office. I tried to sit up, but fell back with weakness. I saw bruises on my arms, and one leg was heavily bandaged and partially soaked in blood.
A small table was beside my bed. On the table was a glass of water and a bowl of soup with a spoon. My throat was dry, and the water brought some clarity to my mind. Again I quickly tried to sit up, and this time was able to keep a sitting position. Frantically looking around I cried out "Rachel." Again and again I called out her name as others looked at me with strange concern. As I turned my head toward the front of the bed, I saw a hook holding my coat. I pulled the coat down upon my face and quietly wept.
Years later, I gained a better appreciation for Pennsylvania Hospital. Founded in 1751 by Dr. Thomas Bond and Benjamin Franklin, this hospital cared for the sick, the poor, and the insane. For my days it was a place of great sadness, and later of even greater joy.
THE NOTE
Several mornings later, I awoke to a note on my table. The note was on a small piece of paper and written in pencil. Fear thou not; for I am with thee: Be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea I will uphold thee. As I have shared with you, church was not a positive experience for me, and therefore the Bible meant little to my understanding of life. The note was kept in my gown pocket, and became worn from repeated readings. For the first time in my life, I felt a voice within me that was neither mine nor my mother's.
WHAT I ALREADY KNEW
For the first week, the doctor and nurses would only care for my physical needs. My repeated requests for information were left unanswered. One afternoon, a man with a white collar around his neck came and sat beside my bed. As he reached out to take my hand, I cried out and turned my head away. He told me that Miss Rachel had died in the train car. He said that a letter arrived from Hartstown asking about my condition, and that another man would soon talk to me about issues. I asked if he wrote my note, he gave me a warm smile, and I gave him my hand. Can the heart be so burdened that the body cannot respond? I fell into a state of numbness, not caring to eat, speak, or move.
THE ISSUES
Several days later, a man appeared at my bed side dressed in a black suit and wearing a tie. He said he was the hospital administrator. Because I was never adopted, I would be placed under the care of the State. He stated that a letter was sent to Hartstown describing my recovery, but visitors were not allowed. Once I was physically able, I would be sent to the Orphan Society of Philadelphia until matters could be settled.
For fourteen years I have been alone in many ways. Now I found myself alone in a different way. Disconnected from anyone who might help guide me for what lay ahead, I needed to set my own path forward.
THE ORPHAN SOCIETY
The building was on Market Street. Admission was restricted to "destitute fatherless children of married parents." It was further declared that girls were not admitted over the age of nine and were housed until the age of eighteen. Boys could not enter after seven and left at age fifteen. You may wonder why was I heading in this direction given my circumstance and age. The answer lies in another goal of the Society, "to rescue from ignorance." Once again, education was providing me opportunities that others might miss, they needed teachers!
For the first month, I was given no information that issues of my circumstance were being discussed. Whenever possible, I would attempt to inquire about returning to Hartstown, or the Girls' Normal School.
As you might imagine, sickness can often be found in overcrowded and poorly ventilated spaces. I fell into a period of morning discomfort that challenged my energy, but I was careful to not speak of this to those in charge. Rather I chose to focus on what was positive, and for me this was teaching.
TEACHING OTHERS
Twenty girls from ages 5 to 12 were in my class. The younger and more recently admitted ones were often malnourished and inattentive. A number of the older girls had little interest in learning and could be a distraction to the few who were eager to progress. I took each day as an opportunity to show kindness and attention to the specific need of each student as best I could.
Nine years ago I was handed a torn and soiled McGuffy's, now I had twenty new books sitting on my desk. Each child was given an early morning work responsibility according to age. My class started at nine o'clock and ended at noon when a small lunch was served. Afternoons brought more work. Not everyone would agree with me, but I often felt the orphanage was more of a workhouse than an institution to change the lives of unfortunate children.
SEEING PROGRESS
Often I would think of Miss Rachel. As I observed slow but steady improvement in my students' reading skills, I would be reminded of her joy in my progress. The matron who oversaw my teaching also noticed a positive change in the interest and attitude of my children. It was a day for celebrating when she announced that the students could come back to the classroom for a late afternoon hour of drawing and games.
A LIFE UPSIDE DOWN
One morning after my third month of teaching, I was told to come to the director's office. As I walked in, I immediately sensed a feeling of anger toward me. I wondered what I might have done that could be upsetting. The nurse from the infirmary was in attendance, and I was told that a physical examination was required. I expressed confusion as I had not been ill.
What followed in the next twenty minutes was as dark and disturbing as the train nightmare. I was taken to the sick room and led into a curtained area with a white cushioned table bed. My teaching smock and under clothes were almost torn from me, and I was laid out on the table. I closed my eyes tightly and hardly breathed as I was touched and prodded as never before. Several times I screamed out in pain, but no consolation was given, no words spoken to me. Toward the end of this examination, I remember the doctor saying, "as I expected."
I was led back to the Director's Office and seated in front of her desk. She looked at me with such disappointment in her eyes and said I could no longer teach as I was with child.
Bewildered of mind and feeling faint of body, I was momentarily speechless. "Speak up child" shouted the directer. Again I struggled to find words, and only mumbled softly "it cannot be."
STRUGGLE AND BALANCE
Any girl of reasonable age knows her body, and is capable of recalling events in life. Over the next few hours, the only answer quickly clarified in my mind. Again I was forced back to the wet field strewn with train wreckage. Only now did I understand that someone had their way with me.
How mysterious is the mind as it seeks to consider moments in life and offer thoughts that could affect a lifetime. I was resolute in my silence and would say nothing, receiving verbal blows of hurtful accusations.
I was sentenced to the laundry for work from morning until early evening. I had a brief lunch with the other children , but was not allowed to participate in other activities.
A LAUNDRY LIFE
The conditions in the laundry were dreadful. In a dark basement room with little ventilation and light, we struggled with heavy loads of wash. Water would be heated in large metal boilers and then transferred to wooden buckets with washboards. The soap bars would wear upon our hands, and open sores were a constant suffering. The other girls were older and in many ways more wise to the challenges of life, especially within a large city. I was quickly told that they would take my child from me. I had already declared to myself that this would not be. If I was to bear a child, then I would be a mother at all cost. It soon became apparent that laundry life had become a blessing, providing a way to move forward.
PLANS ARE MADE
The orphanage laundry also washed baby clothing for the hospital. Once each week, clean clothing was delivered and soiled clothing picked up. Over time I worked my way into these pickups and deliveries for the purpose of observing the baby rooms. Difficult was the decision to forget Hartstown and those who shaped my youth. I was too fearful that I would be separated from my child. My plans needed to go in a different direction. A new friend brought me the answer.
SARAH
Sarah was almost 18 and soon to be discharged from the orphanage. We worked together in the laundry and developed a trust and friendship. Her older sister was married with two young children and a husband. They wanted a better life out west. Sarah was to join them for travel to Independence Missouri and then to join a wagon train.
Older girls with a relative were allowed a monthly visit, and Sarah spoke of my need and our friendship. It was a possible consideration that I might be able to join their family.
CHOLERA
Cholera struck Philadelphia in 1849. While not completely understood at the time, fouled drinking water was considered a primary cause. Due to prior outbreaks, the orphanage and hospital were conscientious about boiling water for drinking and food preparation. Among other safeguards, baby adoptions were temporarily suspended.
BIRTH AND NEW LIFE
I awoke in the middle of the night with a gripping pain in my lower back, and then like a wave, the pain moved around. The nurse was summoned and I was transferred to the hospital. Yes I was fearful, yes I felt alone, but it is also true to say I had a peace. Not only was I aware they would take my child, but I was terrified they would not let me hold my baby. I needed to see the face and study the body. I needed to be able to identify my son or daughter.
I remember with kindness those who helped me that night. Perhaps they took pity on a young girl giving birth, or perhaps like a teacher, they truly cared for those they served. With the last push, my little girl was born. My plan for a plea was not necessary as the child was laid on my chest. "She is to be called Rachel, please, she is to be called Rachel." My daughter was taken away.
RETURN
After several days in bed, I was back in the laundry, but allowed to assist in the hanging of the wash and not the scrubbing. I was careful to show no interest in the childbirth as if it was an unfortunate experience.
The director soon spoke to me and commented on how I might return to teaching in the near future. Again, I acted uninterested in all matters, but said the physical work of laundry service was satisfactory.
A NEW FUTURE AWAITS
The laundry room held keys for both the orphanage and the service entrance of the hospital. Sarah's sister Helene had set the date for our departure. Helene and her husband William were both twenty years of age, son Henry was two, and daughter Hannah was four. William was an apprentice carpenter, and had saved enough money for stage coach travel to Indianapolis as the first step of the journey west. On the evening of our escape, Sarah and I loaded the horse drawn laundry cart with the clean linens and baby clothing. At the bottom of one of the wicker baskets, we placed a smaller basket capable of holding a baby. We entered the hospital and proceeded with our normal practice of delivery and pick-up.
You may not believe in providence, but this evening a greater power was upon me at my most urgent need. Slipping away to the infant room, I went unnoticed and quietly entered the room.
Earlier, I spoke of needing to examine my daughter in the brief moment as she lay upon my chest. I saw what I was looking for in a small birthmark at the back of her neck. At least thirty infant small cribs were arranged in rows within the room
OUR APPEARANCE
I will pause briefly in my narrative to speak about my daughter and tell you something of myself. We both have dark hair, brown eyes, and fair skin. I was always thought of as being skinny but with a height greater than most girls of my age.
WE MEET AGAIN
As I went down the first row, the babies seemed so alike with their wraps and head covers. I was both frightened and elated to see there were names on each crib. After the second, third, and fourth rows, a fear came upon me and I was filled with doubt. As I entered the final row, my eyes fell upon the third crib. Even from a distance, I knew this was my daughter. As I drew closer, my heart filled with an overflowing joy as I saw the name "Rachel." Yes, I instinctively turned her head slightly and observed her birthmark. Quietly placing Rachel in the basket, I covered her with linens and found Sarah. We left through a different door to gain time before the cart driver was alerted to our absence.
HELENE AND WILLIAM
At the planned meeting spot we saw Sarah's family and quickly walked to their lodging. I had no experience of city life and how people of modest means might live. It was difficult to see how four people could live in such a small space. The alley was was strewn with garbage, and crowded with people pushing in all directions.
William lit a small oil lamp and the children were tucked under a blanket on the bed. Helene started to weep and was unable to speak. William said they had three coach tickets but had no further money for a fourth.
Sarah said she would not go, and would continue to make her way staying in Philadelphia. Helene only wailed louder and I protested that it would be me who would find another way. William said he needed several days to seek a solution before any such decision was made.
BEYOND FRIENDSHIP
As we awoke the next morning, Sarah was not in the room. Helene and William went searching while I cared for the children. They returned late in the afternoon with no success. After two additional days of combing the city, Helene accepted Sarah's decision to provide an opportunity for her friend and this small child. With a heavy heart and yet sincere kindness, Helene and William welcomed Rachel and me into their family.
Once again in my short life, another person has entered in with a force of power and love that shakes me to my foundation.
LIKE A SISTER
Sarah will always be my special friend, Helene quickly became a caring older sister. My love for Rachel was so profound that I could be frightened for fear of a mistake in her care. Helene was a wonderful mother, nurturing and patient. She was the teacher and I was the most attentive student.
As you would imagine, stagecoach travel is slow, bumpy, and quite dusty. The distance to Indianapolis was over 600 miles and would take days. The three children had to be held at all times on the road due to the cramped condition inside the coach. William's carpentry skill was critical with numerous breakdowns along the way.
INDIANAPOLIS
The railroads arrived in this area several years earlier, and the young city was bustling with activity and new growth. We found temporary lodging in a tent city on the outskirts of town while William sought work to provide for this extended family.
As more people traveled west from the eastern cities, they also brought the diseases with them. It was at this time that Helene was taken ill, and cholera was suspected. Days turned into weeks and Helene was having a difficult recovery. The primary cure was drinking large amounts of salted water. She was unable to retain food, and the ongoing loss of body fluids continued her decline.
I cared for Rachel, Henry, and Hannah, while providing whatever comfort possible for Helene. Hannah was my wonderful helper with the little ones. While fighting with great courage and determination, Helene passed from us.
LOST
William was struck with a profound grief and loss of direction. I kept all three children in my tent, and relied on the goodness and charity of others. William would disappear for days, and my greatest fear was that he would not return.
After a prolonged absence, he appeared one evening and said he had been offered work. We would travel down the Wabash River to New Harmony, where he would be employed in the building of keel boats that plied the river with commerce.
SOMETHING IN A NAME
Words have always had a special place in my heart. New Harmony rang within me as powerful as the sun rising in the morning, or love as I looked upon these three beautiful children.
As we settled again in a New Harmony tent city, a grateful routine was established. William would bring Henry and Hannah to my tent in the early morning as he left for a long day's work. I would care for the children, and from time to time other children within our small community.
While older men had an important place in my earlier years, I did not experience friendship with a boy or a young man as I was now finding with William. He was a kind and caring man, who loved his children, and would go out of his way to help others.
HOME
As the months went by, I started teaching at a new school established nearby. I was able to bring the children with me, and Hannah was my treasured helper. William was able to have Sunday off from work, and started to build a home on a plot of ground that looked down upon the beautiful river. With only one day a week available, the building progress was slow, but picnics made this the special day of the week.
LOVE AND FAMILY
On my sixteenth birthday, William asked me to marry him, I said yes. Rachel was officially adopted. We now live in our new home, this blessed family of five. Soon I will write to those in Hartstown and tell them of my abundant joy and of the love that surrounds my life.
RICHARD SWAIN