She was alone. She heard the door slam as Birdie went out to the barn for chores. Must you, Barbara Ann? she thought, before she remembered to be easier on her daughter. Remember, she told herself, what it was like. When she’d taken her one and only trip to Kansas City, she had been Birdie’s age. Her father had been invited to a Presbyterian council meeting, and her mother, in an uncharacteristic moment of vigor, had insisted they accompany him. Seventy miles in a hot and crowded train, but Annie didn’t mind. A big city. Another state, even. She tried not to let on about her excitement to her parents, but she could not hide her upswing in mood. “Nice to see you smiling,” her father said. “Life is not too unbearable today, I gather. ‘I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.’” From her window, Annie watched the large industrial buildings begin to crowd the landscape as they neared Missouri. “Maybe you can pick out a new dress for Annie while we’re here,”
