“Land Ho!” yelled the captain standing at the top of the bow. The remaining crew members cheered and danced all around the wooden planks of the worn-down ship. Their boots moved back and forth like the waves of the ocean. They danced not only to celebrate finding land but also to remember those who were lost at sea. This was a treacherous eight months of travel. The sailors and their families loaded the ships that August. They packed exactly two months worth of rations for what they expected to be a short trip to explore new land. As each family kissed their friends goodbye, they carried away their whole lives in trunks onto the ship. “Goodbye and safe travels my dear friends” many people yelled as the crew members raised the rusted anchor. Everyone was excited to start a new journey. A new beginning. To live out their dreams. Doctors who wanted to start their own practice, pastors who wanted to spread their religion, and even some who had been poor with nothing but the clothes on their backs were on that ship praying and wishing to receive a better life.

 All this hope lasted for a little while, until the plague outbreak. Martha was the first to get it and the first to go. She was a kind and fun-loving six-year-old girl. She would brighten everyone’s day on the ship with her angelic singing voice. But what started as a simple rash soon turned into a domino effect of throwing the dead overboard into the water. This is what set them back 6 months as most crew members died. When the survivors finally got to shore, they first celebrated and then mourned the dead, hoping that although their physical bodies did not make it to the new land, their spiritual bodies would always be in the waves that crash upon the shore.