After numerous arrests for shoplifting, Martha is sent to the convent
where, the judge rules, she is to get an education. Martha is relieved
to be out of the clutches of her horrible drunken stepfather, Jackser,
and her feckless mother, Sally, but anxious about what awaits. Her days
in the convent are steady, predictable, safe--everything that her life
had not been prior to being sent away. But as she says, You can have a
full belly, but your heart can be very empty. Put to back-breaking work
by the nuns, and treated cruelly by the other children--they've marked
her as a street kid--Martha works hard, keeps to herself, and steals
away when she can with a cherished book. But Martha pines for simple
affection, keeping after the Sisters day after day with the hope of an
arm laid across her shoulders or a tender look. When her siblings arrive
at the convent--taken from their mother by the courts--Martha is
thrilled to again be with family and care for the babies. But then Sally
and Jackser arrive to take the children home and beg Martha to return
and help care for the kids. Martha makes a wrenching decision to stay
behind, knowing with an unnatural foresight for such a young girl that
they will all drag her down and possibly out forever. She must find her
own way. She is thirteen.