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11 May 1845: Sunday on the River

Today is Sunday, so Mama took us to hear Reverend Bunting bless our wagon train and our journey. Mama says he is not a real Priest, appointed by God and the Pope and everything, but he is the closest thing we will have until we arrive in Oregon. 

It has been another lovely day, but it looks like rain clouds are building up on the horizon. We had a picnic down by the river, and Mama fixed us some sweet tea and cornbread with honey.

Some other children came by from one of the other camps. I had never met them before, but we played in the water until Mama said it was time to go.

More arguing came from the men this evening. Papa and Mr. Bradford yelled at each other, and Mama started to cry again. I don’t know what it is all about, but I wish they would stop making Mama cry so much.

I know Mama cries partly because of the baby she has inside her, and partly because she is afraid for us children. It is so sad, and if she keeps it up, I fear she will make us cry, too.