Something rose up in her, and she said with conviction, “Jah, I belong here.” The words sounded wonderful to her ears as tears sprang to her eyes. “In fact, Lord willin’, I’ll be baptized into the church this coming fall.”

“You are quite a young woman,” Kathleen replied. “I’m thankful you know your mind, and your heart most of all.”

“I’d like to get to know ya better . . . exchange letters, if that’s all right.”

“Sure,” Kathleen said. “I’ll look forward to it.”

“Oh—just one other thing. Is your hair wavy and hard to manage?”

“Is it ever!” Kathleen chuckled. “Why do you ask?”

Britta told her about trying to keep her own hair nice and neat under her Kapp, and they shared a little laugh.

Eventually, their conversation came to a pleasant end.

“I’m very glad you called, Britta. Happy New Year to you and your family.”

“Same to you.”

They said their good-byes, and when Britta hung up, she felt like a bird on a wind current, floating to the highest branch of their backyard tree. All doubts were gone, her burden lifted. She was free to be who God had intended.

CHAPTER
44

Wanting to make the most of her remaining days at her family’s old stone house, Susie had been going out to skate on the pond after chores during the final days of the year, no matter how cold the temperature. Whenever Britta was occupied with babysitting at the Ebersols’ or visiting Cousin Marnie or Hazel, Susie would pull on her black leggings and snow boots and don her coat, warmest scarf, and blue mittens before picking her way down to the pond, past the bare sugar maples and the new silhouettes of drifted snow.

On this first morning in January, Susie was grateful for Britta’s recent decision to be baptized into the Hickory Hollow church. Her heart filled with joy, she decided to treat herself to a nice long skate out in the dazzling sunlight. As she carried her skates to the brink of the pond, she was thankful for the waterproof mittens she’d purchased with Mamma’s Christmas money. While sitting on a small boulder beneath the leafless willows, she removed her snow boots and pushed her stockinged feet into her skates, then took off her mittens to lace them up.

Glancing over her shoulder, she looked fondly at her childhood home, where Dat and Mamma had welcomed each new baby, where Dat’s and then Eli’s passing were deeply mourned, and where tiny Britta had been received with great delight. And where Britta and I became close sisters, she thought as she stepped onto the hard, shimmering surface.