THE LITTLE PIONEER
Verda P. Bollschweiler
When Grandma’s grandma crossed the plains,
She walked the whole long way
In hot sun, dust, and wind, and rains—
To her it was like play.
My great-great-grandma was just ten;
Her brother John was eight.
They’d run ahead a bit and then
Sit by the trail and wait.
I always thought of pioneers
As tall, old, bearded men;
But Great-great-grandma was one, too,
When she was only ten!