Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Journal Entry (Trail Of Tears)

February 9th, 1832

Today we traveled 10 miles non-stop. My mother, father, and I stopped to take a break at around lunch time. For lunch was uncooked rice, since we didn’t have enough time to stop and cook it. My family keeps getting in fights, over the smallest of things too, such as who gets to wear the blanket at lunch, or who gets another helping of rice. Dead bodes are scattered around and the snow is no longer white, more of a dark shade of red. But my father says not to look down, to keep my head up and never to stop, or that could easily be me. As we travel along, we sing to keep our minds off of everything. Dad’s finger was frozen to the bone, so at lunch time we chopped it off for him. Many people passing by shrieked in horror. This sound was nothing new to me. Now, as we walk along, my family talks about how great our life will be after this whole thing is over. Hope is the only thing that I live for anymore. We have got a lot of traveling done today, nearly 10 miles, but we must keep going. Goodbye for now.

LOVE,

Chapawee

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