Spoiler! :
Spoiler! :
Dear Mother,
I hope this letter finds you well. I am sorry for not writing earlier – the voyage took longer than expected.
The voyage itself was horrid. We were forced to room together with dozens of other people – men with the men, women with the women. The women also slept with the children, so our rooms were extra crowded and dirty. It was no surprise when there was an outbreak of smallpox. Almost all the children died, most in their sleep, though some cried and screamed til the very end.
(I am sorry to be so dismal. I have kept this bottled up inside of me for so long, it is a relief to let it all out.) Growing up where we did, I thought I was used to death and suffering, but the sight of so many frail, pox-marked bodies being placed in small, roughly constructed boxes and lowered overboard truly broke my heart. I console myself with the thought that they are with our loving Father in Heaven.
But enough of that! We arrived more-or-less safely. New Zealand truly is a beautiful country. Charles's cousin George is a missionary, and he and his wife Jane have kindly taken us into their home until we are able to buy a house or land of our own. (You may have noticed my writing has improved! Jane has being helping me. I feel slightly guilty, for she also has her house to look after, as well as her work with the natives. But she seems to have boundless supplies of energy.)
Charles is a saint – his work as a carpenter is much in demand, though I know he is frustrated with what he sees as his inability to provide for me. I am constantly reassuring him that he is a good man and a good husband. I don’t think he believes me, though. Honestly, though I love him, he can be so tiresome! If he isn’t doing everything perfectly, he believes he has failed. Well, he had better gain more faith in his role as a provider, for soon he will be providing for three! Yes, I am pregnant with our first child!
I know this news shall gladden your heart. By the time this letter reaches you, I may already have given birth. Everyone expects to us to wish for a boy, but a confession – both Charles and I would like a girl. I remember you clutching your hair and crying in despair that you had had so many boys! I know they can be a handful, but at some time we do wish for a boy.
You asked me to write about the native peoples. They call us ‘taiuwi’, meaning strange tribe. A few girls have been sent to the missionary houses to learn European ways, though Jane is having a lot of trouble with them. Of the men and elders, I have seen barely any, and truth be told I am glad of that. They seem like a fierce people.
Give my love to father, and to Elizabeth. Tell her her elder sister misses her! And to all my brothers, of course – how goes their attempt to start a family business? I am so proud of all of them.
Your affectionate daughter,
Gretchen Rose.
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