When Britta stepped out later that afternoon to go to the stable, Susie walked to the window and looked out toward the beautiful frozen pond. She recalled staying overnight with Cousin Verena one late October. She had walked home the following day, and rounding the bend not far from Ebersols’ farm, she had seen the white gazebo in the side yard highlighted by the flaming red sugar maples, and the pond glittering through the willows. Her heart had lifted at the familiar sight, and in that moment, she’d felt especially grateful for the privilege of growing up in such a grand house.

The awareness of all the happy years—and even the sad ones—linked to this special place played across her memory as she stood there alone in the front room. But she refused to be forlorn. In just sixteen days, it would be the Savior’s birthday, and she would make the best of it, for Britta’s sake.

While Britta milked the goats, she relived her visit to Bishop and Mary, and though she wanted to accept the words the man of God had spoken about being loved and cared for by the People, she was filled with doubts. After all, she was beginning to feel let down by Mamma, and now Allen.

How can I feel like I truly belong here when Mamma is out in Missouri, likely never to return? she thought sadly. And when my brother’s ousting me from the only home I’ve ever known?

Aendi Lettie Hostettler stopped by the shop to visit with Susie the next morning, dressed for the cold weather in her black coat, thick gray scarf, and high-top black shoes. She smiled broadly as she invited Susie and Britta to visit at any time, particularly during the holidays. Susie thanked her warmly, and before Lettie left, she purchased a half dozen popcorn balls and five jars of peanut butter spread for Christmas gifts.

Soon after, Mattie Beiler arrived to ask if the girls needed help with anything, volunteering her husband, David, as she often did. Susie told her that she and Britta were handling things just fine for now and thanked her for offering.

Over the course of the morning, the steady stream of customers continued, mostly Englischers. Then, around eleven o’clock, the bishop’s wife stepped into the shop, waving to Susie. “Oh, I thought Britta might be workin’ today,” Mary said, looking a little disappointed as she pulled her black scarf away from her face.

“I can run an’ get her for ya,” Susie offered, glancing toward the house.

Mary nodded, her chubby cheeks bright pink from the cold. Then she said, “On second thought, why don’t you just pass this along to her.”

“Sure,” Susie agreed.