4 months ago our ship left port in England for the New World. My family was anxious to explore the new land and focus more on our religious beliefs freely without government intervention. We had no idea what we would endure on this ship. Hardship struck us hard 1 month and 6 days into our journey. Clouds began whirling like waves in the sky. They crashed into each other and began to spin. A waterspout came whirling out of the clouds and came hurdling towards out ship. We had prepared for the storm the best we could but we hadn't prepared for this.
             The waterspout smashed into our ship and damaged the mass and hull. Water flooded the decks and we were forced to throw food and dying members of the ship overboard so we would not sink. We all prayed intensely that our lives would be spared. Our boat tossed and turned as the madness continued. It seemed like it would go on forever and we would all die right there in that storm, and then it ended. In an instance the wind died down and the clouds cleared the sky.
             I remember that day like it was yesterday. Father McMullen led the most powerful of prayers and seemed almost angry. He was angered because he pondered the thought that maybe the sins of those on board had brought this storm upon us. He thought that maybe God was trying to take us all from this earth, maybe for good or bad. Now that it is over Father McMullen believes that we are all the Elect and that God was trying to take us to heaven. He may be right because some did die. Among those that died was Mrs. Stowe, the most pious woman I have ever known. She prays so intensely to God.
             After the storm our ship was in a horrible condition. The ship's sails were brutally beaten by the storm and took days to repair. Each day that went by while we weren't moving toward the New World we had less and less food. The food thrown overboard was necessity for a regular length trip. We now had
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