The Upper Basin Chronicles

Chapter 9

Rose’s “Mother Earth Day” Appeal

The night before her class would take its field trip to her farm, Rose Murphy lay awake in her bed. She’d said good night to Michael in an extra nice way. She’d hugged Grandpa Owen and said the bed bug rhyme with him. Grandma Teresa had helped her pick clothes for tomorrow, nicer than work clothes, but clothes she could get dirty. Then Grandma had tucked her in, and said, “God bless you, child. Sweet dreams, little lamb.”

Finally, Dad had climbed to the warm upstairs with weary footsteps. He opened the east window of her northeast room, unlatched the storm window, and pushed it out at the bottom. Alexander Murphy sat at the edge of Rose’s bed.

“Night, night, sweet peep,” he’d said.

“Now I lay me...” intoned Rose with folded hands, “...and bless Mama in heaven forever.”

“...and send her with angels to watch over this little one,” finished her father, “...in Jesus’ name, amen.”

“I love you, Daddy,” Rose had said, “night, night.”

“I love you, too, Rosie. You’re a very special kid,” he said as he kissed her check and hugged her with the side of his head against her ear. As always, she had touched the scratchy edge of his jaw, to be sure it was still sandier than a calf’s tongue. He’d gotten up, went out, closed the door. The stairs creaked as he went down.

Faint voices sounded from downstairs, and the muffled 10 o’clock news. Outside the big pines shushed in the light breeze. Rose's mind turned round and round on everything tomorrow would bring. From sitting on the bus with her friend Mai, to climbing on the hay rack with all her classmates, to Ms. Paruzzi explaining about the peeping frogs and the mallard pairs, and each of the wildflowers in bloom. She couldn’t wait to hear her teacher’s story about Mother Earth Day.

Rose clutched her stuffed bear, Alice. She threw back the covers and tip-toed to the window. The big white pines sighed in the mysterious springtime night. Was that the lilac scent just then? Frogs were singing. An owl called.  Rose threw a leg over the window sill as if over the back of her pony. She slipped under the open storm window and onto the porch roof outside.  With bare toes gripping the low pitched roof, Rose sat down to look for the North Star.

Polaris soared over the trees on the end of its Little Dipper handle. Cassiopeia waved its arms nearby. The stars in the prairie night sky seemed rippled by the same warm wind that spoke in the pines.  Rose hugged her Alice bear and lay back to study the starry night.

“Happy Mother Earth Day, Mama,” she said aloud presently. “I hope you and God are planning something special. If you have a party, Alice and I would like to come. Will Jesus and Mary, and Buddha, and Mohammed be there, too?”

“My mama knows a lot about Earth, God. She sings and plays ‘This land is your land’ really well. She taught it to me, and I can sing it with her.” Rose hummed the tune.

“Mama, does God play piano?” asked Rose.  “Does God sing, too?” She paused. “God would have to practice a lot to be as good as you, I think, Mama.  But maybe God is good at everything already.”  The owl called again.

“God, do you have spring cleaning everywhere for Mother Earth Day?” Rose wondered. “Dad says when the Cedar River floods that it’s God’s spring cleaning. It’s kind of messy, though, I think.”

“God, can you please make people pick up their trash for once?” she asked.

“And don’t pollute. Can you just say real loud, ‘Don’t pollute, please. God says so!’?”

“I think that would help, God, if you would try that, people would listen. Well, most people would listen. And I would tell the rest to spring clean their ears, ‘cause God is talking to you.”

“Happy Mother Earth Day, Mama! I love you. I miss you. Time for bed. Good night, God.”

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Next week...  Chapter 10

The Upper Basin Chronicles, Chapter 9 was written and edited by John Gabbert.

Upper Mississippi Basin Stakeholder Network and The Upper Basin Chronicles © 2002 Saint Mary's University of Minnesota

Comments? Email feedback to The Upper Basin Chronicles, Chapter 9

The characters presented here are purely fictional, and neither bear resemblance to persons living or dead, nor represent the views or opinions of Saint Mary’s University of Minnesota.