Sonia hid behind her mother’s skirts when Nathan said goodbye. She wiped her eyes with her woolen sleeve as he vanished down the road.

“Mama, why is Nathan leaving?”

Her mother, Miriam, said, “I know you will miss him, but life isn’t always what we want. Come with me.” She smoothed Sonia’s hair. “Let’s have some soup.”

“No!” Sonia pulled away. “I’m going with Nathan!”

She ran after him as fast as she could. She had loved Nathan since he had first sung to her, and she wasn’t going to lose him now. But in a few yards Sonia slipped in deep mud and fell on her face. As she struggled to stand, her mother grabbed her.

“You can’t bring him back,” Miriam said.

“Then somehow I’ll follow him,” Sonia said.

Miriam laughed. “You are a determined eleven-year-old, and maybe you will see Nathan again. But today you’re coming home with me.” Sonia mopped the sloppy mud from her face and made a promise to herself.

"I promise to be strong for Mama, the villagers and for Nathan."

With that thought, Sonia sloshed home through the mud, but not before glancing wistfully over her shoulder to see if maybe Nathan was still standing there, waiting for her.

Sonia arrived at her humble two-roomed cottage, the rain now torrents behind her. Sitting down at the old oak table, her mama placed a bowl of steaming soup in front of her.

"Eat. It will help," Miriam said, patting Sonia fondly on her cheek. Sonia used her spoon to push the floating bits of food to the bottom of the bowl and watched them resurface to bob around in the yellow broth. She simply could not eat. Nudging the bowl aside, she rose to climb the ladder to the loft above the kitchen. She peeled off her wet clothes and flopped onto the straw mattress resting on the floor.

Suddenly, Sonia heard the door swing open followed by the urgency of Nathan's mother's voice. "The men and boys have decided to flee into the woods. It's not safe here."

The frantic voice continued, but the drumming of the rain began to drown it out...

Sonia woke with a start. The re-occurring nightmare. The same dream that had plagued her thoughts ever since the men had fled into the woods two years before.

Her breathing came in gasps, and she wiped cold beads of sweat from her forehead. She heard her mother climbing up the ladder to her loft. Sonia pretended to be asleep, so she wouldn't have to listen to the familiar orders.

"Sonia, I know you're awake. I need you to stay here and make more bread for the men. I'm going to bring supplies to them. Don't let anybody in!"

"I know. I know," Sonia mumbled and turned over. With that, Miriam left the house shutting the door behind her. Sonia dragged herself downstairs and shuffled across the dirt floor. As she reached for the flour, there was a pounding on the door. Sonia eased herself towards the small window and peered through it. The Cossacks!

"There's nothing you can do to keep us out! Let us in! Now!"

Sonia unwillingly opened the door. Two imposing soldiers stood holding an envelope.

Handing it over to her, they demanded, "Read it to us!"...

Sonia was paralyzed with fear. She stood there hoping for a miracle.

"I said read it... now!" barked a Cossack.

Her heart was beating faster and faster -- louder, as if it would explode; pounding with a rhythmic pattern.

"Ahh! Get them," cried the Cossacks.

Sonia shrunk back, waiting for the Cossacks to strike her, but to her bewilderment they ran in the opposite direction, chasing after their loose horses.

She watched the Cossacks run until they reached the horizon, and she could see them no longer. Sonia looked around; a flash of fabric vanished behind the corner of a house. Being quite suspicious, she walked over with the envelope still held tightly in her sweaty hand. Turning the corner, Sonia saw Miriam grinning broadly, holding a frayed rope.

"The horses..." Sonia asked, "Did you...?"

"Untie them? Yes, now open the letter, quickly!" Miriam said, still beaming.

She tore open the envelope, careful not to rip the contents inside. Her eyes followed several tickets that fluttered to the ground. She unfolded the enclosed letter and started to read the familiar messy scrawl:

Dear family and friends, I accidentally took the wrong ship, and ended up in America...