Sleeping in a Covered Wagon

I am sleeping in a covered wagon in woods with two ten year old girls. One girl was scared and the other wasn't, but said she wished that her mom had come, that she was trying to be more grown up. I told Sara, the one who was afraid, to tuck into the quilt I'd made, close her eyes, breathe deeply, and name the people who love her. That's what I do with Nick when he can't sleep. Their teachers are talking quietly in the wagon next to ours. It's a comforting sort of sound. Tree frogs are singing. They almost sound like crickets, but it's a fuller sound and a little more sing-song. I can hear horses and an occasional car on the road.

I'll be able to sleep after spending the day helping twenty-nine kids in groups of six cut potatos, carrots, and potatoes for stew, apples and crumbles for apple crisp, and dough for fry bread. The kids were so proud that they made most of the meal and I was happy that no one cut themselves. Some of them had never held a knife. I was glad that Nicky knew just what he was doing with the knife.

He's in an open-air cabin. It has a roof, but it feels fresh and a little dewy already. I hope he can sleep. I hope the dad who is with him is kind if he can't. Most if the men here are kind, but there was one that I was glad didn't end up being in a cabin with Nick. His boy is rough and bullies the other kids. Dads usually have a lot to do with that.

I'm going to sleep now. I brought all of my pillows. I should be comfortable and warm in my sleeping bag.

Good night and thanks for listening, jb