Her Mother's Hope Read Online Free PDF

who loved Him so much. “In whatever you do, Marta, do it as unto the Lord.”
    “I will, Mama.”
    Mama let her go. When Marta looked back, she saw tears in her mother’s eyes. She looked so frail. “Don’t forget us.”
    “Never.” Marta wanted to run back and hold on to her.
    “Go on now.” Mama waved.
    Afraid she might lose her courage, Marta turned away quickly and started off down the street at a brisk walk.
    The farther she went, the more her excitement grew. She ran part of the way and arrived at the train station just as the ticket office opened. Her heart leaped when the train arrived. She watched to see what other passengers did, then handed her ticket to the conductor before climbing aboard. She made her way down the narrow aisle, passing a man in a ready-made business suit shuffling through papers from his case. Another sat two rows behind him, reading a book. A woman told her three children to stop fussing at one another.
    Marta took a seat near the back. She put her knapsack between her feet and looked out the window. She jumped in fright when the train jolted. She caught hold of the seat in front of her and hung on, fighting down panic. How fast would this train move? Would it jump the tracks? Could she reach the door and get off before the train left the station? The thought of what Papa would say and do if she showed up at the front door stopped her. She looked at the other passengers and saw that no one else seemed alarmed at the jolting and creaking, or the loud whistle. She leaned back and watched Thun pass by outside her window.
    As the train picked up speed, her heart did, too. Every minute took her farther away from Mama and Rosie and Elise. When tears came, silent and hot, she wiped them away.
    The Aare River ran alongside the train tracks. She watched out the window as she rode through hills dotted with plump, broad-boxed farmhouses topped with roofs curving almost to the ground. The train stopped at every town, and she leaned this way and that to see as much of the squares and markets as she could. She saw old covered bridges not yet replaced with stone. Every village had a clock tower, even if it didn’t have a train station.
    The wheels clickity-clicked as the train sped toward Bern. When the outskirts of the city came into view, Marta picked up her knapsack and held it on her lap. She could see great stone buildings and a bridge across the green Aare as it curved around the old city. Houses stood in rows above the river on the other side. She looked at her map and out the window again, not sure which direction she would have to go to find the Saintonges’ housekeeping school. She would have to ask directions.
    When the train stopped inside the station, Marta followed the others down the steps. She felt as though she had stepped into one of Frau Fuchs’s beehives with its constant, churning movement of bodies and the hum of voices. Conductors called out train numbers. Steam hissed. Someone bumped into her and excused himself quickly, hurrying on to catch his train. She spotted a tall man in black uniform and red cap and headed toward him. When she showed her map, he pointed out the route she would have to take and told her how much time it would take to ride the short distance. “You can take the tram.”
    Marta decided to walk. She wanted to see some of the city, and who knew how many days would pass before she had free time to do whatever she pleased. Was the school in session on Saturday? She didn’t know. Knapsack over her shoulder, she hurried from the station and strolled along a cobblestone street, looking up at the high stone buildings with flags flying. She paused to watch the tower clock’s animated figures strike the hour. She passed by plazas and wandered in the crisscross of arcades lined with cafés, jewelers, clothiers, pastry shops, and shops with window displays of chocolate.
    As the sun dipped, Marta hurried toward the bridge across the River Aare. She climbed