SITTING ON THE BEACH eating our picnic, I watched Mom and Dad. They seemed happier today than they had been for a while. Dad was leaning back against Mom’s knees; he had one arm draped over her leg while he held a prosciutto sandwich in his other hand. Mom was reading out loud to us from Robinson Crusoe, the original story that is, not the one that was edited by atheists who had cut out all the original Bible-believing Christian content to make it “more marketable to an unbelieving world,” as Mom put it. My welts were fading so I had my bathing suit on today. Mom was pleased when Mr. Bazlinton came over to say that he was sorry about my ruined shorts but that they had probably saved Jennifer s life. Janet had even been nice to me because I had said in front of Mr. Bazlinton that it was Janet who taught me the first aid. He had thanked her and shaken her hand and said, “Well done.”

Janet said afterward how inspiring the British were, just like Winston Churchill. Dad said he was proud of both of us. So for once Janet and I were on the same side. Only one bad thing happened out of all this and that was that when Mr. Bazlinton had come over and thanked me, Mom said, “Mr. Bazlinton, the Lord certainly was present in preserving dear Jennifer, wasn’t He?”

Mr. Bazlinton looked a little surprised but not too surprised, because of all the years he had watched us say grace at the pensione. He said, “Certainly, certainly.” Then he turned to go but Mom laid her hand on his arm and said, “Would you care to join us in a moment of thanksgiving?”

“I’d love to but I really must be getting back to . . .”

But Mom just started praying anyhow. And because she had her hand on Mr. Bazlinton’s arm, he couldn’t escape without yanking his arm away from Mom. So he stood there looking down at his feet and he kept clearing his throat.