“It must seem longer than that,” Verena said as she ran a damp cloth over the teacher’s desk.

“Oh, does it ever,” Susie replied, surprised at how well her cousin understood her.

The mid-April day Susie had been anticipating arrived the next morning with ideal weather for spring chores. She rose early to make breakfast, eager to till up the large garden plot, as well as cultivate the smaller perennial herb garden, where tarragon, marjoram, and peppermint would eventually break through the soil. She also looked forward to planting basil, dill, and sage once the weather warmed a little more.

So, while Britta was at school and Mamma was meeting customers, Susie hitched up Brambles to Dat’s old spring wagon and headed over to Jonathan Ebersol’s to borrow his tiller. He loaded it for her and even rode along to haul it down for her when they arrived back at home. “If ya like, I can stay and till the plot for ya,” he said, but Susie politely declined, saying she had always managed fine before.

“No sense not doin’ it again this year,” she said, wiping her brow with the back of her hand.

Jonathan chuckled and volunteered any other help she and Mamma might need, as he always did, then headed back on foot through the pasture to his own farm.

Meanwhile, Susie set to working the large plot that had been mulched with compost from last fall and into the winter. The soil was dark and soft enough to take a footprint, and Susie could hardly wait to get her hands dirty planting the flourishing seedlings. The wonder of new life, she thought as she pushed the tiller forward.

The morning sun broke through a thin layer of clouds and glimmered off the edge of Mamma’s silver whirligig near the gazebo steps. A wunnerbaar-gut day, Susie thought as she moved slowly along, making careful rows. As she worked, she thanked the Lord for their blessings, including kind neighbors like Jonathan and Liz, who gave them extra honey whenever Mamma bought a new batch. Susie was also grateful for a close friend in Cousin Verena, and for her growing friendship with Del, too. In fact, she wondered when he might ask her out again.

By midmorning, Susie went to sit on the rustic wood bench near the potting shed for a little while. She had gone to the house to get a tumbler of cold water and brought it out so she could rest briefly in one of her favorite spots. The white clapboard garden shed had once been her and Polly’s childhood playhouse, built years ago by Dat. Then, when she was old enough, Susie had enjoyed playing in it alone. Occasionally Eli would join her, pretending to be the father to the faceless dolls she would line up, but he preferred to work alongside Dat.