The Little Pioneer

By 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!