Mom turned to us and started to sing, and the girls joined in, and I tried to move a little way down the platform and look like I was with an Italian family who were slicing up a Motta Panettone cake and drinking cups of espresso from the station snack bar. But Mom beckoned me back into the circle of faith where she and Rachael and Janet were all singing “This Little Light of Mine,” and so I was stuck, and that was probably good because Jesus said that if we deny Him before the world, He will deny us before His Father in heaven and bound we will be cast into outer darkness. We were not denying Him; in fact, all the people on the opposite platform turned around, and Mom smiled at them while we sang. Dad just glanced up and then kept on reading his Newsweek like Peter in the high priest’s courtyard when he denied Christ and the cock crowed three times and he wept bitterly.

But Mom was looking so happy she almost looked fierce, and the girls were singing really loud so we were getting to witness to everyone on both platforms at once, which was probably why God made Mom be late in the first place because all things work together for good for the Elect.

All these people could see the light of Jesus shining in Mom’s and Janet’s and Rachael’s faces because they had learned how to sing and smile at the same time. I tried it in front of a mirror once after Mom told me to let my joy show. But I couldn’t do it. If I smiled I’d forget the chorus or sing it out of tune. Or my smile would look funny because my mouth was wide open shouting “Hallelu, . . . , Hallelujah, Praise ye the Lord!” and the smile would disappear. That’s why when I sang I tried to keep my face turned away from Mom’s so she wouldn’t be able to check for joy because I couldn’t make it shine on my face the way Steven’s countenance shone with joy when he was stoned by the multitude. But he was only praying to himself, not trying to sing “This Little Light of Mine, “so it was easier for him.

When we finally got to Milano we looked across at the platform where the express to Switzerland was supposed to be, and it was gone. Dad looked at Mom, and he looked pleased, and Mom just shook her head like Jesus weeping over Jerusalem because of her sorrow at his lack of faith.

Dad put down his suitcase and said, “Well, this is where we spend the night!” He turned to Mom and said, “I hope you’re satisfied.”

Mom looked at the girls, and I knew they all thought it was really Dad’s fault.