Synopses & Reviews
When Sarah came to the prairie, Anna and her brother Caleb worried that she would not stay and be their new mother. But Sarah fell in love with Caleb and Anna, and with their father, Jacob. Together they became a family. Jacob is a man of the land but for Sarah, the prairie isn't yet her home. So when a drought threatens to devastate their way of life, Jacob must save the farm. But the children go back to the home Sarah knew first, Maine, where there is family and an ocean. But will they ever be a family again on the prairie? Fans will rejoice for this eagerly awaited sequel.'K. Maclachlan's writing is lyrical. . . . Will be a must for fans. 'C. There are worlds in MacLachlan's words. 'Publishers Weekly.
Synopsis
The second book in the series that began with the Newbery Medal-winning Sarah, Plain and Tall by Patricia MacLachlan.
My mother, Sarah, doesn't love the prairie. She tries, but she can't help remembering what she knew first.
Sarah came to the prairie from Maine to marry Papa. But that summer, a drought turned the land dry and brown. Fires swept across the fields and coyotes came to the well in search of water. So Sarah took Anna and Caleb back east, where they would be safe. Papa stayed behind. He would not leave his land.
Maine was beautiful, but Anna missed home, and Papa. And as the weeks went by, she began to wonder what would happen if the rains never came. Would she and Caleb and Sarah and Papa ever be a family again?
Synopsis
When Sarah came to the prairie, Anna and her brother Caleb worried that she would not stay and be their new mother. But Sarah fell in love with Caleb and Anna, and with their father, Jacob. Together they became a family. Jacob is a man of the land but for Sarah, the prairie isn't yet her home. So when a drought threatens to devastate their way of life, Jacob must save the farm. But the children go back to the home Sarah knew first, Maine, where there is family and an ocean. But will they ever be a family again on the prairie?
About the Author
Patricia MacLachlan was born on the prairie, and to this day carries a small bag of prairie dirt with her wherever she goes to remind her of what she knew first. She is the author of many well-loved novels and picture books, including
Sarah, Plain and Tall, winner of the Newbery Medal; its sequels,
Skylark and
Caleb's Story; and
Three Names, illustrated by Mike Wimmer. She lives in western Massachusetts.
In Her Own Words...
"One thing I've learned with age and parenting is that life comes in circles. Recently, I was having a bad time writing. I felt disconnected. I had moved to a new home and didn't feel grounded. The house, the land was unfamiliar to me. There was no garden yet. Why had I sold my old comfortable 1793 home? The one with the snakes in the basement, mice everywhere, no closets. I would miss the cold winter air that came in through the electrical sockets.
"I had to go this day to talk to a fourth-grade class, and I banged around the house, complaining. Hard to believe, since I am so mild mannered and pleasant, isn't it? What did I have to say to them? I thought what I always think when I enter a room of children. What do I know?
"I plunged down the hillside and into town, where a group of fourth-grade children waited for me in the library, freshly scrubbed, expectant. Should I be surprised that what usually happens did so? We began to talk about place, our living landscapes. And I showed them my little bag of prairie dirt from where I was born. Quite simply, we never got off the subject of place. Should I have been so surprised that these young children were so concerned with place, or with the lack of it, their displacement? Five children were foster children, disconnected from their homes. One little boy's house had burned down, everything gone. "Photographs, too," he said sadly. Another told me that he was moving the next day to place he'd never been. I turned and saw the librarian, tears coming down her face.
"'You know,' I said. "Maybe I should take this bag of prairie dirt and toss it into my new yard. I'll never live on the prairie again. I live here now. The two places could mix together that way!" "No!" cried a boy from the back. "Maybe the prairie dirt will blow away!" And then a little girl raised her hand. "I think you should put that prairie dirt in a glass bowl in your window so that when you write you can see it all the time. So you can always see what you knew first."
"When I left the library, I went home to write. What You Know First owes much to the children of the Jackson Street School: the ones who love place and will never leave it, the ones who lost everything and have to begin again. I hope for them life comes in circles, too."