When we dug the well

In our village there was a well. It had a chain: you lowered down the bucket to fill it up, and wound the chain round and round to bring the bucket back up again. That’s what we did when I was little, but I know that most of you will never have used a well.   It was the village well, and we all used it. As soon as I could carry a full bucket, Maman used to send me to fetch water.

One day I said to her, “Maman, it smells.”  “What?” she said, “the water smells?”

“No,” I said. “It’s the manure heap beside the well.”

“We live in the country,” said Maman. “Everyone has a manure heap in front of their house.”

That night, after we children had gone to bed, I heard Maman talking about it. “Marie’s right,” she said. “that manure heap is too close to the well. It will spoil the water.”

Papa shrugged his shoulders. “What can we do? Denis (that’s our neighbour) has a right to put his manure heap where he likes. When he clears out the stable in the winter, he doesn’t want to walk far any more than we do.”

In February that year, some of us village children got ill, – more than usual.  Two died.

“That’s enough,” said Papa. “We will have a new well. We will have clean water. I am a stone mason, I can do this. There is water on our land if we dig deep enough.”

Maman said “But how will you find the time? You are at work all day.”

Papa said that the well was more important than anything else, and we just had to have a new one: – it would be our very own. “It might be our children, next.  This way,” he said, “we will keep our children and our health, and you will save time, Maman, for there will be no more waiting for water: – we will always be first at our own well!”

Papa planned everything carefully. He would have to dig the well on Sundays. The rest of the week he worked. It would be exhausting but he would have to do it.  He would need help. There was Uncle Rene, he would help us, especially as Papa helped him with his roof last year. We children would help as much as we could – not with the digging, but by taking the stones and earth away once they had been dug out. So we would all help. We would have to. Also, there was Andre, – he and Papa had always been good friends. Papa counted on him helping too.

“Where will we put all the stones and earth?” I asked Papa. “It is good you think of this,” he said to me. I felt very proud. “If the stones are good stones, I can build a wall for someone with them. But I think the stones will be too small and no use for anything. As for the earth, – we can put it in our field…”

As it happened, there wasn’t much earth. Ours was a poor country, the growing season was short. The earth was alright, but there wasn’t much of it, – there were too many stones.

It took Papa and all of us a long time to build the well. Sunday after Sunday, and no-one ever had a day off. Still as Papa said, it’s different when you’re working for yourself…. The hole got deeper and deeper but there was still no water. Actually, there was water, but it was the rain, so Papa had to cover up the hole during the week.  After five months, Andre said he was very sorry but he couldn’t give up his Sunday time any more. Papa tried not to let Andre see the disappointment in his eyes: he blew his nose and shook Andre’s hand. “I’m so grateful for what you’ve done,” he said, “let me know when you need me. Come, let’s have a drink.” Papa had to show appreciation.

That night, our supper was gloomy. “I think I can do it,” he said to Maman. “Our family, – we don’t give up, but it’s hard.”

“You’re getting thin,” said Maman as she waited on Papa.  “You need to eat more with all that work. Besides there’s still Uncle Rene. I have some special food in the larder, I think this is the occasion to get it out. Come and help me carry it, Marie.”  We went into the larder. “You carry the cheese, and I will carry the dish.” Maman lifted up a magnificent covered dish carefully: it was a Christmas dish!

“Maman, that’s for Christmas” I said.  “We celebrate Christ’s birthday for Him,” said Maman. “But we also need to celebrate for ourselves: this is for us!  We need to celebrate the progress your father has already made with his work, and the strength of his body. That hole will be our well one day, and look how deep it’s getting!”

I got up to get my shawl. “We will look tomorrow,” said Maman firmly. “Now it’s time to eat this wonderful pork pie.”  “I’m for that,” said Papa. “Who wants to look down a hole, especially in the dark, when there’s pork pie on the table?”

The next morning when I got up, I stole outside, took the cover off and peered down the hole. It was true, the hole was getting very deep, but there was still no water….

“Papa, how can it rain so much and still there is no water in the well?” I said when I went inside.

“Trust your father,” said Papa, and he rumpled my hair. “I know what I’m doing.”

Maman sighed. She trusted Papa, but it was very hard for all of us. The next week, Papa and Uncle Rene lined the well so the water would be clean.

And the week after that!  Why the week after that, they got to the water!

How happy and cheerful our house was that night!  Papa twirled Maman by the waist as he asked her if she would like to come to market and choose the bucket with him. 

“Not too heavy, not too light, choose a bucket that is right!” sang Papa.

“You choose the bucket,” said Maman. “You’ll know what’s right. Just make sure you don’t forget the chain and the handle!  and buy some tobacco as a present for Uncle Rene!”

“It is a good thing we have the money put by,” said Papa.  “Just think if we had a well but no bucket!”

We all laughed. Life would be different now!