An Excerpt from Britta’s Journey, An Emigration Saga

Britta woke confused. What was that thrumming sound? She rubbed her eyes and looked up. The train! Oh yes—she was on her way to America. To Papa! Outside her window the sun sat low in the sky. She must have slept for hours. Pipe smoke hung in a haze over the passengers. It reminded her of Papa—a warm, cozy smell. It wouldn’t be long now! Her stomach fluttered. What if they never got there? What if Papa couldn’t find them? America was a big place, wasn’t it?

Elsa was sound asleep, curled up beside Britta with her hair sweaty against the brown leather seat. Arvid’s head hung over into the aisle, his mouth gaping and his blonde curls dangling. Even Mama nodded over the knitting in her lap.

Britta reached into her bag to pet Lisel. Her kitten. Her secret. She had to keep her hidden until they got on the ship, then it would be too late for Mama to say no. She hoped the ship would be waiting near the train station, otherwise how would they ever find their way? If only Papa were here to guide them. Of course, there was Johan—the Man of the Family. Humph. With him in charge, they’d never get there.

She looked over to see if Johan was asleep, too, but his seat was empty. Gone again! That Johan was always disappearing. And he was the oldest. Some brother! Sometimes Britta got sick of looking out for him. He should be looking out for her.