Young Joan

by Barbara Dana Narrated by Suzanne O'Malley

Overview

“My life came in two pieces of time. There was the time before I heard the voice, and then there was the time after.”

Before she became the legendary Joan of Arc, the child Joan lived the simple life of a farm girl in the village of Domrémy in France. Joan saw the work of God all around her, in the tall gnarled grandfather tree, in the small gentle sheep on the family farm, and in the faces of her dear friends and neighbors. Then one day Joan had a dream. She dreamed that three saints came to her and gave her a glorious yet terrible mission: to reunite her war-torn country and restore its rightful king to the throne.

Dutifully, Joan takes up the seemingly impossible task. But how, she wonders, can a simple farm girl accomplish such deeds?

Editorial Reviews

Los Angeles Times Book Rewiew

...wise and profoundly moving...captivating and timeless.

Product Details

BN ID:	2940169631371
Publisher:	Blackstone Audio, Inc.
Publication date:	11/14/2008
Edition description:	Unabridged
Age Range:	8 - 11 Years

Read an Excerpt

Chapter One

Home

0ur house was made of stone with a slanted roof and small windows. Sometimes, during the day, a lot of light would come through the windows, and it was especially warm and cozy inside. Even in the winter, when it got so cold, still the sun made it seem warm.

We lived in a small village called Domremy. In front of our house was the road, and then the fields, with the beautiful grass and trees. Far across were the mountains. Through the fields went the river Meuse. In many places there were trees and bushes at the very edge of the river. At the offshoots of the Meuse it got very reedy. Sometimes, when it had not rained for a long time, I could jump across the reedy offshoot section in front of Hauviette's barn. Somehow my brothers were never there to see me do it. In their minds I was always Short Legs, their teasing name for me, and I could not jump across anything big.

Our family was very close. My father was tall, as big as the roof of our barn, and very strong, but he was gentle underneath, and careful with the animals. He worked hard, but always had kind words for us and for my mother. He ran our farm, and also he was a leading citizen of our village. He helped the mayor in many ways and also helped all the people in the village when disputes or differences would happen. He also held the lease to the big castle where we took the animals when danger came.

My mother was kind and and good. She was my friend. Because I was a girl, I spent much time with her She taught me to sew and spin. When I first started spinning and sewing I was not very good, but those things are hard for small children. Atthat time I could only spin for a short while before my fingers would ache, and I would get tiny cramps around my thumb and have to stop. Mother taught me many things, but first of all she taught me love of God. It was from her that I learned everything. She taught me the Pater Noster, the Ave Maria, and the other prayers. I learned my faith from no one save my mother. My father loved God too, but his mind would go to other things sometimes because he had such great responsibility. He would forget that God will care for us always.

Between my mother and father there was much respect. Hauviette said that in her neighbor's house the husband would sometimes hit or even beat his wife if he did not like what she did. In many families I think they were doing this according to the laws.

In our town the law was that the wife was a part of the household, belonging to the husband, and had to be "kept in line." This is how they said it. The husband could beat his wife, but he could not kill her, a small difference at that point, if you ask me! In our house it was not like that. I never saw my father hit my mother, nor did my brothers or my sister, Catherine, see it. There was a great love between my mother and father, and a great understanding. My father would often ask my mother, "Well, what do you think?" and she would tell him . Men should not beat women. The town laws were wrong. No person owns another. We each belong only to God.

I have three brothers and my sister Catherine. Jacquemin is older than the rest of us. By the time I was ten, he was living in Vouthon, where my mother was born. Soon after he left, Catherine got married. It was hard to let her go. We had always been as one, sharing the same room even. For a time I missed her greatly. She married a nice boy, who had a loving smile. His name was Colin. They moved to Greux, which was his town. Now, moving to Greux from Domremy is almost like not moving because the towns are so close. Greux is only a step-walk away. I had to remind myself of this many times, and that Catherine was happy, and that her marriage was God's will . Then I felt better.

After that it was just myself and Pierre and Jean at home with Mother and Father. Older brothers can be blessings in many ways. They teach you things, but often they tease you. Pierre and Jean did both. I always liked their room. It was smaller than mine, but you could see the very back corner of the church from their window. I could see a piece of one of the Piney Bush Trees and sometimes the sky, but this was only in the winter when the big tree next to the far back Piney Bush Tree had no leaves. I thought it would be wonderful to see the church, but then I had the church in my heart. I did not need to see its corner from my window. My window was so small. Before I was seven, or thereabouts, I could fit through it by turning sideways, but after that I was too big.

Directly behind the house was Father's garden. If you stood looking away from the house, to the left, near the edge of the garden, ran the little brook that fed into the Meuse. Sometimes at night the brook sounded so loud outside my window. When I was very tired I did not hear it. There were many old, mossy rocks near the brook with sharp edges and carved-out places. The water must have made them like that after many years. I wonder how old they were.

To the right of Father's garden was the church. It was so comforting to be next to the church. You felt you could reach out and touch it. How I loved that garden! There were many trees. In spring there were flowers, and in summer came the vegetables, turnips for sure. My favorite trees were the three pine trees or' Piney Bush Trees. I always called them that because they were so stout. I also loved the tall, gnarled Grandfather Tree with lots of vines, and the clumpy Troll Tree directly behind the house. These were my names for the trees. I never told anyone.

The Troll Tree could be climbed. Sometimes I would sit on the first ledge of the tree, the first heavy, twisted limb, and look at the church, waiting for the church bells. Also from this tree you could get a good view of the fields behind the house, and the barns, and the animals grazing. The tall, gnarled Grandfather Tree almost touched the roof on the tall side. One time Pierre and Jean climbed that tree and jumped over onto the roof. Father got angry when that happened. I was glad I had decided not to follow them. At the time it seemed exciting, but also dangerous in a meaningless way. I always felt that if you were going to do something dangerous, you should have a good reason for it.

Young Joan. Copyright © by Barbara Dana. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.

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