Small Beauties (3 page)

“Darcy Heart O’Hara, what in heaven’s name are you doing dawdling in that empty row?” her brother Sean scolded.

“I was just noticing a magpie flying low over the buttercups,” Darcy told him as she pointed to the edge of the field. “See how his black feathers shine next to their shimmering gold.”

“Gold, is it?” her brother cried. “Why can’t you ever see what the rest of us see? If you did, you’d notice that there’s no gold here, just a bunch of useless blossoms. Stop gaping over buttercups now and get back to your planting.”

But the next crop of potatoes turned as rotten as the first, for a blight had taken hold of the land. Now the hard times were certainly upon them. Each day Darcy joined the other children of Pobble O’Keefe, who were sent out looking for food. They combed the fields for berries and nettles, and whatever else they could find.

Darcy tried hard to take her brother’s advice, to see what the others saw. She saw the worried look on her mother’s face, and she noticed the hungry tug in the pit of her own stomach each day. She saw the rubble where the Murphys’ cottage had once stood. She noticed the smell of rotten potatoes in the air. And she heard the quiet all up and down Derry Lane, as fiddles lay forgotten and stories were left untold.

But even with all this, Darcy continued to notice small beauties wherever she went.

When the Crown’s agent came demanding the rent, Mr. O’Hara explained they couldn’t pay it. The agent grabbed hold of their cow, Kathleen, and all of their pigs as well!

Darcy felt a lump in her throat to hear her father plead, “If you take our animals, my children will starve.”

“What’s owed is owed,” the agent said gruffly. “The Crown’s decided to clear the land. If you can’t pay your rent, you’re to be evicted. There’s been a decree that all tenants of Pobble O’Keefe shall receive free passage to America if they leave within the month. If you haven’t left by then, we’ll come tear your house down.”

“America!” Mrs. O’Hara cried.

“Cross the ocean?” Granny gasped.

“Leave Ireland?” Darcy whispered.

“Never!” declared Granddad. “We’ll not
leave the land our people are buried in. You’ll not be rid of us so easy.”

“There’s hope from the ocean, but none from the grave,” the agent said darkly.

In the afternoons, Darcy and Granny took to saying their prayers together under the shade of the mulberry tree. While Granny fingered her worn wooden rosary beads, Darcy would finger the bumps along her hem. They prayed for food and for courage. And they prayed that the agent would not return.

But this last prayer went unanswered, for at the end of the month the Crown’s agent was again at their door. And this time he was not alone. With him were men with hooks, hammers, and a torch!

Darcy trembled to hear the agent’s angry voice shouting through the half door.

“Patrick O’Hara, I’m here to serve you notice. You and yours are evicted from this place, from this day forward. Take what you will from your house now, for it’s coming down.

With her own heart breaking, Darcy watched helplessly as Granny’s rosary beads fell from the mantel and broke on the floor!

“Heaven protect us! They’ve set the roof afire!” Granddad cried as the sound of burning thatch crackled in their ears overhead. In a panic, everyone rushed for the only door. Amid the smoke and screams, Darcy reached down and scooped up one small bead from the floor.

Outtside she placed it into Granny’s trembling hand.

That night, as the stars twinkled over the moss-covered stones along Derry Lane, the O’Haras huddled in a ditch beside the rubble that was once their home.

“There’s nothing left for us here.” Mrs. O’Hara’s voice was a weary whisper in the wind.

“We must take the Crown’s tickets and cross the ocean,” Mr. O’Hara said sadly. “There’s a group leaving tomorrow. In America, there is food and there is the chance to own land. We’ll leave at first light.”

But Granddad shook his head. “Your Granny and I are too old to make such a journey. We’ll stay here in Ireland if my sister Mag will take us in.”

They spoke no more, for the sadness in their hearts was now too heavy for words.