The War that Saved My Life by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley

In the morning we slept until the sun was halfway up the sky. Miss Smith
slept late too. I could hear her snoring in the room across the hall.
I took Jamie downstairs and fed him bread. I crawled again the way I did at
home. I meant to keep walking, but crawling was so much easier.
The main room had a back door. Outside was a little space fenced by a
stone wall, and then another much bigger space, also fenced. The pony named
Butter stood in the bigger space, facing the house, eyes and ears alert.
I smiled. He looked like he was waiting for me.
Jamie said, grabbing my arm, “You’re not supposed to go outside.”
I shook him off. “That’s over,” I said. “Here I can go where I like.”
He wavered. “How do you know?”
It was my reward, I thought. For being brave. For walking so long, for
walking away. I got to keep walking forever. I hauled myself to my feet. I
would walk to the pony.
I toddled and stumbled. Everything hurt. The pony watched me. When I
reached the stone wall I sat on it and swung my legs over to the other side.
The pony stepped toward me, lowered his head, sniffed my hands, and
pressed his neck against me. I put my arms around him. I understood how he
got his name. He smelled like butter in the hot sun.
I wanted to ride him but wasn’t sure how. His back was a long way from
the ground. Plus, the girl I’d seen had had straps or something to hold on to. I
stood, holding on to the pony’s neck, and took a few cautious steps along his
side.
The grass in the field prickled my bare foot. The dampness felt cool on it,
and seeped through the bandage on my other foot too. The ground was soft; it
moved when I stepped on it. Squishy, like new bread. Trees bordered the
field, and their tops waved in the sun. Birds twittered. I knew about birds, we
had them in the lane, but I’d never heard so many at once.
There were flowers.
Jamie ran around the field, singing to himself, whacking things with a stick
he found. Butter lowered his head again, sniffing my hands. Did he think I’d