They wanted to stay home and play, so Lena rode her bicycle into town by herself. She found her father sitting at his kitchen table in the manse, writing a letter. He laid down his pen and sat back in his chair as she greeted him. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise, Engelena Everdina. What brings you here?”

He always smiled when he used her full name. He seemed softer since Mama died, as if grief and pain had filed away some of his sharpness and certainty. He was more patient with his parishioners, more understanding of their faults.

He gestured to an empty chair at the table and listened as Lena told him about her escalating arguments with Ans and her daughter’s comments about the church. Ans had lived here in the manse during her last months in secondary school, taking care of her grandmother until she’d died. Grief still etched a deep cavern in Lena’s soul that she hadn’t climbed out of yet. She would be sucked back into the darkness when she least expected it by the sight of an empty place at the table or a basket of abandoned knitting. Lena couldn’t lose her daughter, too.

Her father paused a moment before replying, removing his wire-rimmed glasses and polishing them with a corner of his sweater. “Ans’s faith has to become her own, Lena. She can’t inherit yours or mine, no matter how much we may wish it. She has to find God through what she sees and experiences with Him.”

His advice surprised Lena. “But . . . what if she doesn’t come back to the church? What if she keeps turning away from it —and from us?”

“Ans belongs to God, not to us. He will be faithful to pursue her. The Bible says no one can snatch her from the Father’s hand.” He seemed certain of it.

“What about her reputation —and yours? People are already asking why she doesn’t come to church with us anymore.”

“You don’t owe anyone an explanation.”

His words should have reassured Lena, but they didn’t. She couldn’t help feeling that her daughter’s rebellion was her fault. “Ans wants to leave home all by herself and move to Leiden. I must have done something wrong as a mother to make her feel that way.”

Her father gave a gentle laugh, shaking his head. “No, Engelena. Don’t blame yourself. Adam and Eve had a perfect parent, yet they rebelled.”

“What should I do?”

“If you love her —and I know you do —you have to let her go.”

Tears filled Lena’s eyes. “Just let her go? All alone? She has no plans at all for the future except to leave home and live in Leiden.”