Priscilla's Diary (Salem Witch Trials)

27 April 1692

Never has been the perfect time for a church sermon than now. With all the things that have been happening in town, I felt like I could breath once we all sat down in front of the priest. This Sunday, I was anxious about whether or not Catherine's daughter would have any abnormalities when she walked into the Lord's house today, but to my surprise, she didn't burst up into flames. This gave me more than enough reassurance regarding her innocence. Surely you would think that if she was a Satan worshiper and practiced devil's work, then there would have been some sort of sign whenever she walked in.

Everything was normal during the service until a few girls in the back started yelling. Everyone jumped in their seats at the sudden screaming. Elinor and Catherine's youngest jumped into my arms and the little girls clung on to either side of me as a few of the older gentlemen in town got up and asked what was the matter.

The girls were crying and pointing towards the front of the church, claiming to have seen the devil there himself. Margaret and Catherine's daughter started crying and some of the other mothers started to leave with their young children also. Bernard helped me up with all four children hanging off of me and told me to go somewhere safe.

As we were all walking uphill, the kids still not letting go of me, I tripped on my dress and landed on the ground. The kids all followed me and sat next to me in the dirt. I took the time to take my thumb and wipe the tears off of their cheeks. All the children looked up to me; scared, innocent, wanting reassurance. It took everything in me not to join them. How badly I wanted to start crying with them and wanting someone to wipe my tears away and tell me that everything was going to be okay. 

But I kept it together and instead of telling them something that I, myself, wasn't even sure of, told them a story that my mother used to tell me when I was younger.

I still smile when thinking back to how she told it and hoped that I could tell it in just a similar matter as she did. It was a story about a little fox that would play by the river every day. The fox rarely got scared of anything. One day, as he jumped into the river and was playing around, he caught a glimpse of a big shadow moving around behind some trees. The fox has never felt so scared in his life until this moment. He was about to run in hide but then decided to wait around, because he suddenly got curious. When the little fox started to walk closer to the shadow that scared him, he realized that it was nothing but branches on a tree moving because of squirrels jumping across them from above. 

"So there was no danger?" Margaret whispered slightly, like she was scared to even ask a question in a time like this.

"No, there was no danger. The fox thought there was, but it just turned out to be other animals, just like him. The animals didn't realize how scared they were making the fox, but once the fox saw that they didn't mean to, then there was nothing to be scared of."

"But what about those girls screaming? Should we be scared of that?"

"...No...no, don't worry about them. That is a different situation than what the fox was in. You guys are all safe with me. I would never let anything bad happen to you, dears."

We walked back to the house and all the kids sat at the table in silence. I was preparing lunch when I kept on glancing over to them and noticing their stares. They weren't staring at anything in particular but just at the walls in front of them. The two littlest ones were just playing with their hands, but the older kids couldn't let the church situation go.

I served the children a small meal that felt more like a snack than lunch. As I was sitting there, playing with the tiny portion in front of me, Bernard and Catherine's oldest son came into the house. I got up and handed them their bowls. I tried making eye contact with Bernard, to ask him about what happened, but he was obviously shaken. 

I eventually got his eyes and when I opened my mouth to ask him a question, he just somberly shook his head. I stopped myself from asking and continued with my meal. It was probably the quietest the house has gotten in years.