GRAPES OF WRATH
...tall, little Joe holding his dying father’s head in his lap. Pa restlessly paced the entrance, watching the water pool at the bottom of the hill that their shelter perched on. He finally gave into his weariness a few hours before dawn, anticipating the hardships the next day would bring. Rose of Sharon woke just before the sun rose. Still weak from childbirth, she cautiously crept to the loft of the barn and sat cross-legged on a bale of hay and stared in the blank sky. It had finally stopped raining, yet the skies were still dark with night’s blanket. Deep in thought Rose of Sharon began to weep. She cried for her lost child, who had never known an earthly breath and she cried for Casey and Tom who both devoted their lives to a greater cause and both suffered for it deeply. Rose of Sharon cried for George, and for his innocent son and the suffering they had already incurred. When she lifted her tear-stained face for her hands Rose of Sharon was taken aback at the sight before her. The sprawling land; still soaked with three days rain shone in the impending morning light. The sky was a myriad of colors, with shades of rich purple, smoky blue, and fiery variations of orange and red. The sun was beginning to crest over a distant hilltop and flickered through the bare branches of an ancient willow tree in such a way that it appeared to be ablaze with the sun’s fire. A sense of hope filled Rose of Sharon and she smiled in spite of the pain and suffering that surrounded her. She heard a noise behind her and was startled to see Joe crawling towards her, sniveling quietly. She held out her arms to him and he curled up in her lap, his body shook as he tried to keep his tears from flowing. Rose of Sharon quieted him and patted his back trying to subdue his sobs. “Papa died in the night.” Joe whispered. Rose of Sharon felt tears come to her eyes as she held the boy closer and began to cry with him. Ma joined them in the loft, looking weary and disheartened, she too had discovered George’s lifeless body. Joe had taken care to bury it under a mound of straw and placed his hat atop it. “We’ll have a proper burial in the evenin’ if the sky holds tight, Pa can dig a grave, and there’s some nice flowers bloomin’ over on the far side of the barn.” Ma ...