American Progress Page 40

  Anna’s stomach felt like she’d just drunk a glass of sour milk. Are we going to be poor? she wondered.

  “I don’t know where we’d put Chet.” Father spread his hands and smiled at Anna. “We have five children now. Where would we put Chet?”

  Anna didn’t smile back at him. “I guess we don’t have room for another bed.”

  “There’s another way it wouldn’t be fair.” Father’s smile faded. “Our whole family is going to have to tighten their belts and watch what we spend. I don’t know if it would be fair to Chet to let him live with us now, when we have to be so careful with our money. I don’t know if it would be fair to the rest of the family, either, to spend money on Chet. We will have to be careful with our money just to meet our own family’s needs. Do you understand, Anna?”

  She nodded. She still felt sick to her stomach. “Is your company going to close, Father? Are you going to lose your job?”

  “I don’t know, pumpkin. But that’s not something for you to worry about. Worrying about taking care of you and the rest of the family is my job. Okay?”

  Anna nodded again, but inside, she still worried. She knew lots of kids whose fathers’ hours were cut. Then the men were working only a couple days a week, then only a couple days every other week, until the families had almost no money. Lots of the men ended up losing their jobs.

  Is that going to happen to Father? Fear wormed its way into her heart.

  CHAPTER 11

  An Important Letter

  Make it last. Wear it out. Make do or do without.” Anna dropped the sock she was mending into her lap. She glared at her mother, who sat beside her on the sofa. “I’m sick of hearing those words.”

  It had been six weeks since Father had told her about his hours being cut back. The family had been trying to find ways to spend less money ever since. Mother tried to make it a game. At first it seemed like fun. Now it was growing old.

  To make things worse, last night Father had told the family his hours were cut back still further.

  Mother laid a hand on Anna’s knee and smiled. “They are good words. Making the best use we can of everything we have is one way of showing God we’re grateful for what He gives us. It shows Him we want to use the money He gives us wisely.”

  “I wish He’d just give us more money.” Anna stuck her bottom lip out in a pout.

  Mother laughed. “That wouldn’t make us any wiser, would it?”

  Anna supposed she should feel guilty for the way she felt, but she didn’t. She stuck the needle into the heel of the sock. She didn’t like mending socks. The mended places always felt thick and rough on her feet. Mother said the smaller and closer together the stitches were, the better the socks would feel when she wore them. But doing it right only made the mending harder. She jabbed the needle in again. “Ow!”

  “Stick yourself?” Mother asked.

  Anna stuck her thumb in her mouth to try to make it stop hurting. She blinked away the tears that had rushed to her eyes when the needle jabbed into her thumb.

  “I wish this old depression would go away,” she said when she took her thumb out of her mouth.

  “So does everyone else, pumpkin.”

  “I don’t know why everyone is so excited that Mr. Roosevelt was elected president last month. Nothing has gotten any better.”

  Mother laughed. “Why, he was just elected. He doesn’t take office until next March. Mr. Hoover is still president until then.”

  “Oh. Why did God let this old depression happen, anyway? Why is He letting so many people go hungry and without jobs or homes? I thought God loved us.”

  Mother put down the sock of Father’s she was mending and turned to face Anna. Her usually cheerful face was serious. “God does love us.”

  Anna stuck out her chin. She lifted her angry gaze to her mother’s face. “Then why did the stock market crash and people lose their money and jobs?”

  “Well, I’m not sure, but I think it’s something like this.” Mother settled against the back of the sofa. “You know what happens when someone breaks a law? For instance, what if someone is caught stealing?”

  “He goes to jail.”

  “Right. What happens if we break one of God’s laws, for instance, one of the Ten Commandments?”

  “We have to ask Him to forgive us.”

  “Right. There are other laws, too. Laws besides God’s laws and people’s laws.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like laws of nature. The law of gravity is a law of nature. And there are laws of money, too. They are usually called laws of economics. Before the stock market crash, people became greedy. They wanted to buy more things than they had money to pay for. They found ways to do that for a long time. But in the end, there wasn’t enough money to pay for everything they had bought. They broke the laws that tell us how money works.”

  “Oh.” Anna shook her head. “I don’t think I understand. I’ve heard some people say God is punishing America for being greedy and for so many people breaking the law and drinking liquor and for other things people are doing wrong. Do you think God is punishing us?”

  Mother slipped her arm around her shoulder. “I don’t know. The only thing I know for sure is that all we can do is to live every day the way we think God wants us to, loving each other and trying to help each other. Maybe that will be the most important thing people learn from these hard times, to love and help each other. Wouldn’t that be a good lesson?”

  Anna nodded. “Yes. But if that’s what God’s doing, I wish the lesson were over.”

  “If that’s the lesson,” Mother said, “it won’t be over until we learn it.”

  Fred and Anna ran into Chet a couple days later in the park. They greeted each other warmly, though there was a cold December wind blowing.

  “Did you check with the Organized Unemployed to see if you could get a job with them?” Fred asked Chet. He and Anna had suggested it to Chet the last time they’d seen him. Anna had even told him to tell Dot’s father he was a friend of theirs.

  “Yeah. I talked to Mr. Lane like you told me to, but I can’t work there. They don’t hire kids, and they don’t hire people who aren’t from Minneapolis. They think it’s more important to hire people from here and people who have families to take care of.”

  Frustration poured through Fred. “I’m sorry.” Nothing he tried to do for Chet worked!

  Chet shrugged. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and hunched against the cold wind. “It’s all right. I understand why they have those rules. If someone with a family gets the job, the job helps a lot more people than if someone like me gets the job.”

  “I suppose.” It didn’t make Fred feel any better.

  “Did you hear what Minneapolis’s new mayor said about hobos?” Anger filled Chet’s voice. His brown eyes flashed.

  “What?” Anna asked.

  “He called us ‘floaters.’ Says we’re costing Minneapolis thirty cents a day to feed and give a place to sleep. He wants all the missions to stop helping hobos.”

  Fred’s mouth dropped. “Why?”

  “He thinks if the missions stop helping hobos, men without jobs will stop coming to Minneapolis.”

  “Will they?” Fred asked.

  Chet shrugged again. “Some, probably. What the mayor doesn’t seem to understand is that people are coming here because they can’t find work in their hometowns. So why stay in their hometowns? And besides, people from Minneapolis who can’t find work are going to other cities looking for work. The missions in the other cities help the people from Minneapolis. Why shouldn’t Minneapolis help us?”

  Fred and Anna exchanged troubled looks. What if the mayor stops helping kids like Chet? If the missions won’t help Chet and the other kids, and they can’t go home, where will they go?

  Something wet landed on the tip of Fred’s nose. He looked up. “It’s starting to snow. Why don’t you come home with me for supper, Chet?”

  Chet pressed his lips together. “I don’t know if
I should. Your folks might not have any chores for me.”

  “Aw, there’s always something that needs to be done.” Fred hoped it was true. With Larry and Harry home and helping around the house and yard and with patients offering help in return for his father’s services, he wasn’t sure what there might be to do.

  “All right,” Chet said. “A hot meal will taste good.”

  Fred’s mother greeted Chet with a smile. “No, I don’t have any chores that need to be done right now. But I was hoping we’d see you again soon. I was thinking of the little wooden bird you carved for Audrey. I’d like to give a couple to friends for Christmas. Would you be able to carve some for me?”

  A grin filled Chet’s face. “You bet!”

  “Do you ever sell those, Chet?” Fred asked.

  “Those little things? Naw. Who’d pay for them?”

  “Sounds like Mother would pay for them.”

  “Of course I will,” she said.

  “I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Chet said. “You can have them in exchange for supper.”

  Excitement filled Fred. “Chet, with Christmas coming up, I bet you could sell lots of your carvings.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea!” Mother agreed.

  Chet’s face lit up with hope. “You think so? Maybe I’ll try it.”

  After supper, Fred was glad to hear his father say, “I think you should stay here tonight, Chet. Looks like we’re going to get a good old-fashioned snowstorm.”

  Fred thought Chet’s face looked older than his seventeen years. “Thank you, sir, but I couldn’t do that. You’ve a full house.”

  “You can sleep on the sofa,” Father said. “I hear the missions are so overflowing with men, that they have to turn them away. This would be no night to spend outside. If my own boys were fending for themselves, I’d want them to have a warm place to sleep.”

  Chet’s face grew sterner. “I don’t want charity from you.”

  Father nodded. “I understand that. How about if you carve one of those birds my wife wants and we trade? I take things in trade from my patients all the time. No reason we can’t barter, too.”

  Chet was silent for a moment. Then he nodded. “That sounds fair. Thank you, sir.”

  A warm happiness spread through Fred. Finally his family was able to help Chet! At least a little bit.

  The next day, Anna told Fred, “I’ve been thinking about what Chet said. You know, about the mayor wanting people to stop helping the hobos. I think we should do something about it.”

  Fred snorted. “Like what? The mayor won’t care what we think.”

  “He’ll care what the newspaper says, won’t he?”

  “Maybe. So?”

  “I think we should write a letter to the newspaper. The newspapers print letters people write to them, you know. We can write why we think people should keep helping hobos like Chet.”

  “I don’t know if it will work,” Fred said, “but if you want to try it, go ahead.”

  Anna bit her bottom lip. “I kind of hoped you would help me. It would be easier if we wrote it together.”

  “Well … okay.”

  Four days later, they saw their letter in the editorial column of the Minneapolis Tribune. Anna saw it first. She called Fred and told him to read it.

  The next day, she was pleased and surprised when Miss Atkins read the letter to her class. Anna felt her face grow hot when other students turned to look at her, and she knew she was blushing.

  “Why don’t you come to the front of the room,” Miss Atkins asked Anna when she was done reading the letter, “and tell us why you wrote the letter?”

  Anna went to the front as she was asked. She clasped her hands behind her back to try to keep from feeling so nervous. Then she told them about meeting Chet, how he had to leave home because his father couldn’t take care of everyone in his family, and how hard it was for Chet to find work and food and a place to sleep.

  When she was done, Miss Atkins asked the class whether they agreed with Anna or with the mayor. Anna was glad to see most of them agreed with her. She was even more glad when Miss Atkins gave the class the assignment of writing to the mayor to tell them what they thought he should do and why.

  Anna and Dot headed toward Dot’s home after school. They were so interested in talking about Chet and the letter and what happened in school that Dot forgot to ask Anna not to come into her house. They walked in together, talking fast to each other.

  From the hallway of Dot’s home, Anna stared at the living room. It was empty.

  CHAPTER 12

  Christmas Plans

  What happened to your furniture, Dot?” Anna asked.

  All the color seemed to drain from Dot’s face. Tears glittered in her eyes. “I didn’t want you to know.”

  A chill ran through Anna. Something was terribly wrong. “Know what? Are you moving?”

  Dot shook her head. “We’ve been selling our furniture to pay for the house.”

  “But I thought the house belonged to you. You don’t rent it.”

  “There’s a mortgage on the house,” Dot said.

  Anna frowned. “I’ve heard that word before, but I don’t know what it means.”

  “It means that Father borrowed money from the bank to buy the house. The loan the bank gave him is called a mortgage. Then he paid the money the bank gave him to the man who owned the house before us. Now Father has to pay the bank for the money he borrowed. He has to pay some every month, like people pay rent. And we don’t have enough money to pay it.”

  “Oh.” Anna looked at the almost empty room. “But I thought things were better now that your father is working for Organized Unemployed.”

  “They are. But we’ve spent all the money Father had saved when he lost his job. The bank won’t take scrip for the mortgage. So we started selling anything we could to pay it.” Dot sighed. “We keep hoping Father will find a real job that pays money and not just scrip before the bank takes our house away.”

  Anna stared at her friend in horror. “The bank can’t do that, can it?”

  Dot changed the subject, but Anna wasn’t listening. All she could think was, What if the bank takes Dot’s house? What if Dot’s family has to live without a home, like Chet?

  The next day was Friday. Anna’s mother said she could ask Dot and Fred to join them for supper. After they ate, Steven and Isabel played fox and geese with them in the snow outside. When they came back in, Steven and Isabel went into the living room to play. Anna and Dot and Fred talked in the kitchen while they made hot chocolate.

  They carried mugs of hot chocolate to the kitchen table. Dot sighed when she sat down. “Christmas is only a couple weeks away.”

  Anna grinned. “I know. I can hardly wait.”

  Fred blew over the top of his mug to cool his chocolate. “I’ve been trying to sell Christmas Seals, but people aren’t buying them like they used to do. Not many people seem to have money to spend on Christmas Seals this year.”

  “I know we don’t,” Dot said. She sighed again. “I don’t even have money to buy presents for Mother and Father or the nieces and nephews who are living with us.”

  “I don’t have much money to buy presents for my family, either,” Anna said. “Maybe we can make presents.”

  “Like what?” Dot asked.

  Anna shrugged. “I don’t know. Chet carves birds and animals out of wood.”

  Dot laughed. “I can’t do that.”

  “I helped Chet make a scooter for Steven,” Fred said. “There’s another skate left from the pair Chet used. I could make a scooter for your nephew, Dot.”

  “Would you?” Dot’s face lit up.

  “Sure. It would be fun.”

  Dot’s shoulders sagged. “I don’t have anything to pay you.”

  Fred shrugged. “You don’t need to pay me. We’re friends.”

  “Gifts are nice,” Dot told him, “but when people give you things because you can’t pay for them, it’s not a gift, it’s charity.”


  “What’s the difference?” Anna asked.

  “Yeah. I’d be making the scooter because we’re friends.”

  “There’s a big difference,” Dot said. “Gifts make you feel good. Charity makes you feel bad, like you can’t take care of yourself.”

  “Oh.” Anna thought it made sense when Dot explained it.

  Fred crossed his arms on the table. “Well, then, we’ll just find something you can do to pay for it.”

  “Like what?” Dot asked.

  “I don’t know,” Fred said. “We’ll think about it. Something will come up.”

  “I know what I want to make for my brothers and sisters,” Anna said. “At least, for everyone but Audrey. She’s too small for it.”

  “What?” Dot asked.

  “I’m going to make jigsaw puzzles for them.”

  “How are you going to do that?” Fred asked.

  “Simple,” Anna said. “I’m going to ask Mother if I can have some of her old magazines. Then I’m going to find pictures I think Steven and Isabel and Frank will like. I’ll cut out the pictures and paste them on a piece of cardboard. Then I’ll cut the cardboard into pieces to make a puzzle.” She held out her hands. “See? It’s simple.”

  “I could do that for my nieces, too,” Dot said eagerly. “It wouldn’t cost anything!”

  Anna grinned, feeling happy she’d found a way to help Dot. “We could cut out pictures to make calendars for our mothers and fathers, too.”

  “That’s a great idea! I can do that, too,” Fred said.

  Anna leaned back in her chair. Some of her happiness seeped away. “I forgot. Isabel wants a play stove for Christmas. I wanted to buy it for her.”

  Fred wiggled his eyebrows. His blue eyes danced. “Your father hired Chet to make one for her. He’s working on it in our garage so she won’t find it before Christmas. He’s making it out of wood, and he’s painting burners on top of it.”

  Dot laughed. “That’s great. Isabel gets her stove, and Chet gets a job.”