Personal Narrative: The Frontier

The frontier is as boring as a blank piece of paper. Though I have always considered myself brave and daring, I believe this frontier is fiercer than me. Although we are thriving now, the first few months were an absolute disgrace. In the beginning, food was scarce and life was terrifying; I never felt so alone. I have not slept well since we left New Jersey. But, enough from boring, old me; you are probably dying to hear about how my life has turned upside-down!
We travelled across the county for three long months full of rain and wind. In June, we finally reached what Cornelius called his “Promised Land’, but I could not see how he could believe it was a gift from God! Upon arriving on the frontier, we had nothing but the few articles of clothing and bags of seeds we brought from our real home-home with you and father. We spent three weeks sleeping in our wagon while a few Confederate veterans helped us build a shelter. They told us their story: after the Union won the war, they left the army and moved west because the War destroyed their homes. They failed in fighting for their homes, so they saw this land as a fresh start. The veterans skillfully made blocks of Earth and placed them on top of each other, like a dirt igloo! They called it a “soddy.” Cornelius and I were amazed!

We finally had a home to call our own! While Cornelius worked on making our house a home,—full of furniture and decorations!—I learned how to farm. An old farmer and his wife taught me how to properly grow corn. I learned how to sow the seeds within the rills so they were safe and the farmer brought by one of his fun farmer contraptions so I could till the soil. He thought it was odd that I was the one farming and not Cornelius, but I explained that Cornelius has always been the more artistic type and that fixing up the house was more of his style. I am a much better farmer than Cornelius could ever