She could push a plow, milk a goat, and, most important, think for herself. She and Elya often stayed up half the night talking and laughing together.
Their life was not easy. Elya worked hard, but bad luck seemed to follow him everywhere.
He always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. He remembered Madame Zeroni telling him that she had a son in America.
Elya was forever looking for him. He’d walk up to complete strangers
and ask if they knew someone named Zeroni, or had ever heard of anyone named Zeroni.
No one did. Elya wasn’t sure what he’d do if he ever found Madame Zeroni’s son anyway. Carry him up a mountain and sing the pig lullaby to him?
After his barn was struck by lightning for the third time, he told Sarah about his broken promise to Madame Zeroni.
“I’m worse than a pig thief,” he said. “You should leave me and find someone who isn’t cursed.”
“I’m not leaving you,” said Sarah. “But I want you to do one thing for me.”
“Anything,” said Elya. Sarah smiled. “Sing me the pig lullaby.”
He sang it for her. Her eyes sparkled. “That’s so pretty. What does it mean?”
Elya tried his best to translate it from Latvian into English, but it wasn’t the same. “It rhymes in Latvian,” he told her.
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