Father sat at his loom making cloth for Kalatash's dress. Already the family had picked the cotton. Kalatash had helped her mother take the seeds out of it. Then they had spun the white on the homemade loom. It was nearly finished.
Soon father would take it off and make a soft, warm, white dress. Many times a day Kalatash would go and stand by her father as he worked. She could hardly wait until father would cut the cloth and then sew a dress for her. He promised to make two dresses for her to wear at school.
Would school time never come. At last the dress was finished. Kalatash tried it on. She tied the colourful sash around her waist. Father had woven it from red, yellow, black and white thread he had bought at the market. It was nice to have a good, kind father who knew how to do so many kinds of work.
Father made another dress. That would be enough dresses for this school year. He put them away carefully to wait until school time. One day mother said. The day has come for you to prepare for school. We need to get food ready for the journey. Kalatash knew about that journey. It took nearly five days to reach school.
So she helped her mother roast barely. Then they made dabo kolo. Kalatash helped grind wheat into flour. Then she put eggs and spice and butter with the flour. She mixed it well, then cut it in tiny pieces and baked it in a large round clay pan on the fire. When it was finished, she helped put the golden food into a special place.
That kind of food would not spoil for many days. Kalatash lay down on her bed of grass one night. Her bed was soft, but she could not sleep. School. School. I must go to school. But it's hard work to go to school. Tomorrow i will cross the swift Tacazze River.
I have never crossed it before in September, when it is deep and swift. I know how it is during the dry season. Six times i have crossed it to go to school and to come home. But now i must go earlier. For I'm in the fourth grade. I'll have to be there for nine months. So i must go now. Kalatash stopped thinking to listen to a hyena. Every night she heard the hyenas calling.
I hope i can reach a house every day before dark. She was thinking again. But the river. It's so wide and so deep. It has been raining for three months. Oh. I know it isn't as high as it was in August, but still. Soon. Soon. Soon. I'll have to cross it. But God will help me because he loves me. And then she went to sleep.
It was still dark when she heard mother get up. Kalatash stretched and stood up. Too. Then she knelt and asked God to guide her and protect her. She helped mother put the roasted barley and dabo kolo into a leather lunch box. She got her two dresses and wrapped them into a leather lunch box. She got her two dresses and wrapped them into a tight bundle with her bible.
Outside she heard voices. There were Mellesu and Getu and five other students who were going with her. The whole village was awake now. Father was up preparing things. At last they were ready to start walking. Father and many other village people went to watch the children cross the river. Thay river.
Nobody even liked to think of that river. But crossing the river was part of the price of school. For six hours the people walked in the hot sun. The path led them through fields of grain. Little black and red birds flew here and there. But Kalatash was not thinking of birds and grain. She was thinking about new dresses and school.
But most of all she was thinking about the river. That river. That river. That river. I wish i were across that river. She whispered again and again. People talked and laughed and sang as they marched up hill and down. The leader led the way straight to Ato Wobet's farm. Ato Wobet was waiting for them all at his house. Several days before. A messenger had come to tell him that on this day the children would cross the river on their way to school.
