My Mother's Ring

The smell of smoke reached my nose just as I was returning to consciousness. I heard someone calling my name, but it sounded as if it came from a distance. I must be dreaming, I thought, and sank back into peaceful rest.

"Jacquie. Jacquie! No, don't go to sleep, wake up! ...Jacqueline!"

Okay, so maybe I'm not dreaming. I groaned as I rolled over onto my back and reluctantly opened my sleepy eyes. The sun had just risen, and it shed just enough light for me to see an alarmed Peter kneeling over me. Startled, I sprung up. "Peter?! What are you doing here? What's going on?" I looked around the hut and noticed something wasn't right. The beds were empty, items were missing, and everything looked askew. Where was my mother? My sisters? Our belongings?

"Jacquie, listen to me. I came in to get you - we have to leave right now. The soldiers are burning everything in the village and they'll be here soon. The Mimkaq Indians have already hidden the remaining villagers in the wood, and we're the only ones left. Come now, we have to hurry."

"But I can't just leave everything, I- How- What-?" I collapsed onto the floor in a helpless stupor. Then, as yesterday's events drifted back into my mind, my face twisted into an expression of horror.

Peter confirmed my suspicions when he said, "The ships are gone, the people are gone, and all we have is about to be gone - there's nothing left."

Still bewildered, but quickly growing less so, I got up and followed Peter outside to where a young Indian stood waiting. I took one shaky breath and nodded, and the three of us started off. I twisted a gold ring on my finger as we went. As we headed toward the Indian settlement, I tried to sort things through in my head. The ships, the soldiers, the notice... How could it all have happened so fast?

I thought back. The ships arrived the day before yesterday, the second of September, 1775. The workers were all engaged in harvesting and I could see Peter, my fiancé, as well as my brother, Jon, working along with the other men. My parents were immigrants to Acadia from France, and I was one of four children. My brother, Jon, was the eldest, and my twin sisters, Adeline and Anabelle, were the youngest.

When they rested at noon, three ships with British flags could be seen approaching in the distance. Curiosity among the villagers was rife - what could they want? I was rather alarmed, for I had heard stories of French Acadian towns that had been burned to the ground by British soldiers and their people transported to foreign lands.

Within the next hour, the ships had arrived, and a man dressed as a curate announced in a loud voice, "To the inhabitants of the Village of Beauvaís and the surrounding shores: All men, whether ancient or young lads, are to gather at the Church tomorrow at three o'clock in the afternoon to hear what is to be said to them there."

The next day, at exactly three o'clock, all but four of the men and boys in our village gathered at the church. The village had decided to station four men hidden in trees near the church as a precaution. Peter was one of those four, and he was stationed in a tall fir tree at the northern part of our village. They remained in the trees for hours, hearts pounding in dreadful apprehension of overhanging doom.

By the time the sun had set, our men still were detained and the women in our village were becoming increasingly anxious. We decided to send some of the sisters to the church to see if they could discover the cause for their delay. They soon returned, faces pale and downcast, and informed us that the only answers they received from the soldiers were the points of their bayonets and a strict order to return home immediately. This report only heightened our anxiety, and I tried to escape the tension by going to visit Peter in the tree.

"Peter, what do you suppose will happen to us?" I asked.

"Well," he replied, "I suppose they've come to subjugate Beauvaís just like they've done to Gaspereau and Cobequid... I pray that they will not, but my hope is fading quickly."

"Is there nothing we can do about it? Can't we hide in the woods or go and live with the Indians?"

"I have thought about that also, but it is impossible to hide all the women and children in our village safely in the woods where the British cannot reach them. The King has already thought of that, for he sent enough troops to subdue all of Canada. All we can do is call upon the Good Lord for help, for He has a plan for us all." We sat together for a little while in an uneasy silence until it was time for the twins to sleep.

After a restless night, all the women hastened to the Church the next morning, where we crowded around to catch a glance of our loved ones. However, horrible news awaited us - we had arrived just in time to hear the curate read the notice from Governor Lawrence of England.

The curate read, "'...Your land & tenements, cattle of all kinds and livestock of all sorts are forfeited to the His Majesty King of England, whose property they now are. In addition, you yourselves are to be removed from this province.' The ships shall sail at daybreak, and all here along with your belongings must be aboard the ships by six o'clock this evening."

There was a stunned silence. The flies could be heard buzzing in the seemingly petrified church. This was our home, how could we be so suddenly torn from it? The crops in our fields were half-harvested, the wheat half-cut. How could we leave behind the animals and livestock we raised, our farms and houses with years of work and care put into them? The Church, at the center of our town, painstakingly built brick by brick? This was the place where our ancestors had come to start anew, the place where the graves of our kindred lay; this was the place of our nativity, our home, forever. How could we bear to leave and live dispersed among strangers in a strange land, whose customs, laws, language, and religion were strongly opposed to our own?

When we finally aroused ourselves from this stunned state, women were weeping, and men had their head in their hands. Little children ran and clung to their parents' clothing with worried looks and hid behind them. I wished very much to do the same.

Before long, the beach was piled with boxes, baskets, bundles, and weeping mothers and children. The men were forced to march to the ships, and I searched for my father and Jon in the crowd. I found them together, in the center of a column, heading towards a ship. Oh, how I longed to run and pull them away to safety! The poignant, agonizing look I saw in my father's face as he looked, perhaps for the last time, upon his wife and daughters overwhelmed me. I cried out and would have run through the wall of soldiers to him if it wasn't for a strong arm that pulled me back and caught me in a strong embrace. Startled, I looked up. I could scarcely recognize Peter, who was dressed as a soldier.

"Shhh... I must be careful not to be seen, which is why I am dressed so - Stana, if we try to interfere, lives will only be lost, not spared," I heard him whisper. "The least we can do is to help as many women and children to safety as we can."

"To safety? Peter, you know they won't leave their husbands, fathers, or brothers- many would rather die than be separated. Besides, soldiers are all around us!"

A grave look came upon his face as he replied, "Yes, you are right, but do you think that when the ships arrive at their destination the people there will care about keeping our families together? Indians are waiting to help right behind those trees in the woods."

However, it was too late. Women were already being lead onto the ships, so I handed Peter two of our bags and led my crying sisters to him. "Go with Peter," I said, "he will take you some place safe, and I will meet you there." Giving him what I hoped wasn't a last look, I turned to my mother.

"The ring!" she frantically whispered, "the ring, my ring- it is still in the hut, under the clock! I cannot leave it!" Dumping her load on the ground, my mother started running back to our hut. Dumbfounded, I threw a quick glance at the soldier and ran after my mother as fast as my legs could carry me.

But, alas! Just as I was about to reach our hut I heard a soldier call out, "Halt!" Terrified of being shot, I quickly darted behind a neighboring hut.

"Trying to escape, are you? Well, just this once I shall be merciful and take you back to the ships." He took hold of my mother's arm, though she tried to resist, and began taking her back. Seeing that he was the only soldier nearby, I flew at him and wildly tried to free my mother.

"What, you too?" He grabbed my arm also, and easily held us both.

"Stana," my mother spoke in French so the soldier could not understand us, "you must run to safety, I am not strong enough, and better it be just me on the ship than both of us-"

"No!" I cut in, "I will not, how can I?" Tears streamed down my cheeks and blurred my vision. Why must this happen?

"Stana, what about Adeline and Anabelle? They need you to look after them - you cannot leave them! Quick, do not worry about me, I shall be alright."

I shook my head, but she reached across, wrenched the soldier's hand off my arm, and said, "Go! Run quickly, and remember how much we love you- Go!"

Tears streaming, I turned back and cried, "I will find you, I promise!" as I ran towards wood. Suddenly, I stopped short as I remembered the ring my mother had wanted to retrieve, and dashed back to our hut. Creeping over to where our clock hung on a shelf, I used one of our spoons to unearth the ground below it. Here I discovered a small silver box containing the gold ring my father had given my mother on their wedding day. I slipped it on my finger. The ring gave me a sense of security and comforted me as I thought of my mother.

The sun had begun to set and it was too risky to run outside the village, so I found an old blanket of ours, covered myself in a corner, and fell asleep.
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Now, as we tramp through the woods to the Indian village, I examine my mother's ring on my finger. As it reflects a brilliant ray of light, a sense of hope and confidence rises within me. Someday, no matter how long or hard the journey, I will set out to find my mother, my father, and my brother, and we will be united once more. But until that day, I know that Peter will be always by my side, and that I have a duty to take care of my two sisters- and to remind them of our parents' love for us.