a basket of dirty laundry
on her head.
Bwa sèch, I answer.
I find my water bucket
and together we walk
to the ravine.
What stands on four feet
but cannot run?
That’s easy, I say. A chair!
Julie Marie laughs
and shakes her head.
Non! A table.
I fill my bucket
and wait for Julie Marie
to finish washing.
We hang wet clothes
and collect firewood.
When Julie Marie’s basket
brims with dry branches,
I balance the bucket on my head
and we walk home.
School starts next month, Julie Marie says.
Have you thought about
talking to your manman again?
Not really, but maybe I should.
Our baby will be here soon
and the coin jar is starting to fill
with garden coins.
Papa says Mr. Pétion might even buy
some of our vegetables!
Julie Marie smiles,
and I remember all the plans
we had before the flood—
to both go to school,
to both become doctors,
and to one day open a clinic together.
I remember the promise
I made to myself and to Granpè.
Something stirs inside my heart.
My faraway dreams are floating back!
When I get home,
Manman is on her bed,
groaning.
Serafina! she says.
Her face glistens
with tiny beads of sweat.
Prese! Hurry!
Get Julie Marie’s mother.
Manman! Are you sick?
Prese! The baby is coming!
What about the midwife?
There’s no time, Serafina!
Prese!
I run down the path that leads
to Julie Marie’s house.
Julie Marie’s mother is outside,
a baby in one arm,
a wooden spoon in the other.
Prese! Prese! Gogo is in the city
and our baby is coming!
Julie Marie comes outside
carrying her brother Michel.
She sits him in the dirt
and takes the baby
and the wooden spoon.
Her mother hurries inside her house
and brings out a handful
of rags and the top of an old tin can.
Prese! Prese! she says. Let’s go!
As we hurry down the hill,
Julie Marie calls after me,
You’ll be a wonderful big sister!
By the time we get back,
Manman is holding a small,
wrinkled baby.
Come see your brother Gregory,
she says weakly.
I kneel beside her.
What can I do to help you,
Manman? I whisper.
Julie Marie’s mother gives me
a soft, clean cloth.
Bondye bon, Marie Rose,
your son is beautiful.
A long, slippery cord stretches
from Gregory to Manman.
While I gently wipe
Manman’s face,
Julie Marie’s mother
cuts the cord
with the top of the tin can.
Then she takes Gregory
and wraps him
in a clean blanket.
Hold your brother
while I sweep and freshen
your mother’s bed,
she says, shooing me outside.
I sit on a large rock.
Hello, Gregory, I whisper.
I hold his face
close to mine.
His eyes are closed
like a baby kitten’s,
and he has a musty smell,
like the leftover scent
in Gogo’s basket of herbs.
Gogo says you’re a blessing.
Please bless our family.
Gregory’s tininess
tugs at my heart.
I think about Baby Pierre.
I promise, Gregory,
I’ll do my best
to make sure
Manman eats.
I promise to do
everything I can
to keep you safe.
The next day,
Papa brings home
two sweet potatoes
for us to fry.
Gogo makes Manman
tizann, a special
healing herbal tea.
Manman smiles happily
at Gregory’s round,
Papa turns the washtub over
and beats out a happy song.
The sun rises,
the sun sets,
little by little the bird
builds its nest!
Gogo takes my hand.
We sway our hips
and flutter our arms
like parade dancers.
Gregory is a blessing!
My heart floats,
and my belly is stuffed
with sweet fried joy!
When Manman washes up
in the mornings,
I hold Gregory
and sing him songs.
Manman and Gogo tell me
how helpful I am,
what a good big sister.
Day by day,
Manman grows stronger
and happier.
Gregory’s tummy
is quickly becoming round
as the mango.
After I help Manman with Gregory,
I meet Julie Marie at the ravine.
Sometimes I wash clothes too.
While we work, we talk about Nadia
and say prayers for her and her family.
We talk about our clinic
and try to decide what to call it.
In the afternoons,
when Julie Marie finishes her chores,
she helps me in the garden.
She can’t come every day,
but when she does,
the afternoon passes quickly.
We pick and bundle the best herbs
and vegetables,
some for Manman and Gogo
to sell in the city,
some for Papa to bring to Mr. Pétion.
Julie Marie helps me clear away
the pebbles and weeds that could choke
my fragile peppermint plants.
As soon as they grow,
I’m going to bundle them in ribbons
so Manman can bring them to the city too,
I tell Julie Marie.
She grins.
More coins for the uniform jar!
The lima beans
are still tiny sprouts,
but the amaranth
is higher than my knee.
Gogo smiles.
You’re like the amaranth—
beautiful and strong,
sheltering the smaller buds,
coaxing them to grow.
Gogo’s words make me feel taller.
People really are like plants—
kind words make them grow.
Later, while Gogo bundles herbs
to sweeten Manman’s bathwater,
I care for Gregory.
Little brother, little brother, I sing.
Do you know? Do you know?
Your big sister loves you.
Your big sister loves you.
Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom.
Gogo says Gregory
is too young
to smile,
but I know
he’s smiling at me.
One afternoon, I see
tiny peppermint lea
ves
poking through the rocks.
As soon as Julie Marie arrives,
I show her.
Gogo said pushing
through the dry earth
is the hardest part.
Now our peppermint
will stretch in the sun!
When Manman sees
how hard I’ve been working,
I know she’ll let me
go to school.
I grab Julie Marie’s hand.
We’re going to be doctors!
Julie Marie smiles,
but her smile
pulls tight on her face.
What is it? I ask.
I can never go to school, Serafina.
Did you talk to your papa?
Julie Marie shakes her head.
Then how do you know he’ll say no?
A fat tear rolls down
Julie Marie’s cheek.
My papa has too many
hungry mouths to feed.
But you said—
I know, Serafina.
I didn’t want you
to give up.
You should be a doctor
even if I can’t.
We are both quiet a long while.
Mwen regrèt sa, I finally say.
I promise I’ll teach you
everything I learn.
Maybe I can grow
enough peppermint
for two uniforms!
I spend every free moment
in the garden,
weeding, watering,
and watching
my peppermint plants
grow taller!
One day, when Gogo,
Manman, and Gregory
are in the city,
I hear a loud rustle
in the bushes.
Who’s there? I yell loudly,
hoping to scare away
a wild pig or rat.
Ale lwen! Go away!
This is my garden!
I stand up, and giant
ginger-colored paws
almost knock me down!
Banza! I scream.
Banza yelps
and runs in circles.
Banza! You found me!
I haven’t any food to give him,
but still his tail wags furiously
and he licks my face.
Let me see those paws!
Any prickles?
I try to grab his leg,
but he runs away.
Don’t forget, I call after him.
This is our new home!
Nobody can believe
that Banza found his way
up and around so many hills.
Not Manman or Gogo,
Papa or Julie Marie.
Nobody can believe
he found me.
It shows how much
kindness and love matter!
Papa says.
Love always finds a way.
The important thing
is to never give up.
It’s hard to imagine that
just a few months ago,
all I could think about was rain,
and rebuilding,
and Manman’s worries.
Now the rainy season is long past.
Our new house is warm, sturdy, and dry.
Gregory is growing healthy and strong.
At night, I listen
to Manman and Papa talk quietly.
Sometimes Manman’s rippling laugh
mixes with Papa’s cheerful rumble.
Sometimes I hear her sing quietly
to Gregory and I wonder
if they are the same songs
she sang with Granpè.
Papa said
everything would be better
when the baby came.
And it is.
Julie Marie said,
Without dreams the world
is only dirt and dust.
School starts in less than two weeks.
It’s time to talk to Manman again.
Before I talk to Manman,
I’ll talk to Papa.
Maybe he’s changed his mind.
Maybe this time he’ll agree
to talk to Manman for me.
Manman, I say
while she nurses Gregory
before supper.
May I go down the hill
to meet Papa?
Wi! Manman says,
smiling at me.
Just don’t walk too far—
only to the bottom of the hill.
Mèsi! I’ll hide
behind a banana tree.
Papa will be so surprised!
I hurry to the bottom
of the hill
and sit beneath
a large banana tree.
When I see Papa,
I run into his arms.
He lifts and twirls me.
Serafina! What are you doing here?
Is everyone okay?
Wi, Papa!
I just need to talk
to you alone.
Papa laughs.
What is it today,
my sweet Serafina?
You’ll see! I take his hand.
Together we walk
up our last hill.
I pull him into the garden
and make him close his eyes.
Okay! Open them!
Amazing! Papa says
when he sees
the sturdy shoots
and bright green leaves.
Gogo didn’t think anything
would grow in this soil.
Papa, I say,
our coin jar is filling fast.
Soon, some of the coins will be
peppermint coins.
Papa smiles.
He knows what
I’m trying to say.
I’m proud of you, Serafina.
The pride in his voice
gives me courage.
I pluck a peppermint leaf
and rub it between my fingers.
School starts very soon.
I still want to go.
Papa nods and takes my hand.
You’ve done everything
I’ve asked.
But there’s one last step.
Papa, do you think
you could—
Papa shakes his head.
Serafina, Manman needs to hear
your voice,
your words,
your hope.
He squeezes my hand.
Now that Gregory is here,
she’ll be able to listen better.
After supper that night,
I walk to the ravine.
It’s quiet.
Soft, shimmering light
wraps around me
like a golden cloak.
Manman seemed so
happy nursing Gregory
while Gogo and I
washed the dishes.
Maybe now is the right moment.
I watch the dark, warm water
flow into my bucket,
and think about Granpè.
I wish I could have known him.
Are you watching over me, Granpè?
Please help Manman to understand,
I whisper.
I think about Pierre.
I still miss him.
I don’t need a cross made of stones
to remember you, Pierre.
Please help Manman to understand,
I beg.
I think about Gregory.
You’re my special blessing,
baby brother.
Please help Manman to understand,
I pray.
The gentle amber light
softens to gray.
Crickets and tree frogs
begin their evening serenade.
I lift my bucket
and head up the hill.
Before I reach home,
I promise God
that if Manman lets me
go to school,
I will study hard
and never complain
about anything.
It’s almost dark when I get home.
Papa, Manman, Gogo, and Gregory
are gathered in the garden.
By the light of the moon,
I see that Papa is smiling.
Gogo shakes the jar of coins
and swings her hips.
Manman holds Gregory
in one arm
and reaches out for me
with the other.
I put down the water bucket.
Whispered promises mingle
with the bold scent
of peppermint and thyme.
Manman, I say, looking into her
open, loving face.
I want to talk to you
about school.
Then, all in one breath,
I repeat everything
I said to Papa.
This time, Manman
doesn’t interrupt.
She looks at the garden
and then at me.
I see how hard you’ve been working.
The vegetables and herbs
are thriving—even the peppermint!
Manman smiles.
You’re becoming a strong,
dependable young woman.
I feel myself stretching
all the way to the moon.
Thank you, Manman.
Gogo thinks the jar
should be full in a week.
My heart is thumping.
Manman pauses
and holds my gaze.
And when the jar is full,
you may go to school.
Really, Manman?
Manman nods and laughs.
Really!
I jump and kiss them all.
I twirl my pretty green dress.
Mèsi! Mèsi! I shout.
I’m going to school!
I can’t wait to tell Julie Marie.
One more week
and the jar should be full.
Then I’m going to school!
Manman said it herself!
When the jar is full,
I’m going to school!
The next day, I’m up early
to gather water
before I work in the garden.
Julie Marie is already
at the ravine.
I run down the hill to share
my good news,
but she has news
of her own.
Her words bubble out
like an overfilled water bucket.
Serafina, I’m going to school after all!
Tomorrow Papa is taking me
to live with my aunt in the city.
Papa says Auntie will give me
my own room.
She’ll buy me pretty dresses
and we’ll have pumpkin soup
and fried pork to eat.
On Sundays, we’ll have sweet potato pie
with coconut pudding for dessert!