After a while Mama asked, “Have you thought about your future plans now that the Nazis have surrendered?”

“I think I’ll need time to get used to freedom first.” Ans smiled. “When I moved to Leiden, I was so naive. I didn’t know anything about myself or what I wanted to do with my life. The war has taught me so much about God and people —and about myself. I know those experiences have shaped me and changed me . . . I’m just not quite sure what it all means for my future yet.”

“Before you left home and we were arguing so much, I went to Opa for advice. He told me that your stubbornness and your strong will might be your greatest asset one day. I see now how right he was.”

Ans laughed and hugged her mama. “Have you heard anything from Elisheva’s parents?” Mama asked.

A wellspring of sorrow opened in Ans’s heart at the thought of Miriam and Avi. “No, but I haven’t lost hope.”

“I’ve been showing her the photographs of her family.” She gestured to the album on the table next to Ans. “I’ve been trying to prepare her . . . but for what, I don’t know. It’s going to be hard to let her go. One more loss to grieve. She’s my beloved daughter —but she isn’t.”

“It will be hard for her, too. You’re the only mother she remembers.” Ans reached for the photograph album and opened it, leafing through the pages. She found the letter Miriam had written to Lena and the one she’d addressed to Elisheva. “Have you read this to her?” Ans asked.

“No. Not yet.”

“Maybe it’s time.”

Mama drew a deep breath as if for courage, then nodded. “Bep, honey, come here for a minute. I want us to read this letter together.” The girl played a few more notes, then slid off the bench to sit on Lena’s lap, leaning comfortably against her shoulder. “It’s from your mother, the one you had before you came to us. Remember how the baby rabbits grew inside their mama? Well, you grew inside this mother that way.”

“I knew your mother,” Ans said. “I remember when you were still in her tummy, and I saw you when you were first born. They named you Elisheva —it means ‘God’s promise.’ Your mother and father loved you very, very much. They were so sad when they couldn’t take care of you anymore. I’m the one who brought you here to stay with this mama and papa for a while.”

Lena opened the envelope and pulled out Miriam’s letter.