The snow fell so heavily the first Wednesday in December that it pattered against the windowpanes as Susie sat in the front room by the black coal-burning stove to read Obie’s latest letter. She enjoyed his account of interacting with the repeat customers who’d become his friends, but the news he was coming home for Christmas caught her completely off guard. His family will be happy, she thought, feeling quite pleased herself.

Reading on, she was delighted to learn that he wanted to see her while he was home. She recalled the many Christmases they’d gone ice-skating on the pond by the willow grove, and the Christmas evening he had come to play Dutch Blitz with them and been stranded overnight when the snow became so deep and the winds so fierce that the roads drifted over. Mamma had folded several large quilts and blankets to make a comfortable pallet for him in the front room near the coal stove. The next morning at breakfast, Obie had kept them all in stitches with his stories and jovial personality.

Susie realized now she was daydreaming and looked at Mamma, sitting nearby. “Obie’s comin’ home for Christmas,” she said with a glance at the letter.

Mamma chortled. “Ach, Susie, no wonder your face is glowin’.”

Flustered, Susie backtracked a bit. “It’s just nice that he plans to visit, isn’t it?”

Mamma set her mending aside and gave her a thoughtful look. “Are ya happy Obie’s coming or mostly surprised?”

Susie didn’t have to think twice. “Both.”

“Well, bein’ happy’s a very gut thing,” Mamma said, her voice ever so tender now.

Susie pondered that and wondered how she’d feel seeing her friend again after all this time.

The following Sunday, another storm blew in—a ground blizzard, where snow slithered down the road like long white snakes. The mile and a half to Preaching service with the horse and buggy was hard going. Thankfully, after braving the weather to go out and milk the goats early that morning, Britta had urged Susie and Mamma to bundle up extra warm. She’d even heated some bricks to place at Mamma’s feet in the carriage, to help her stay warm enough.

With the weather worsening, they left church before the fellowship meal. Once she’d helped Susie unhitch the carriage, Britta plodded out to the stable again to feed and water the horses, the pony, and goats. While there, she glanced at the telephone on the wall, wishing she could just dial up Hazel, whose family had a phone in one corner of their big barn. Something had crossed her mind about her adoption, and she longed to talk with Hazel privately about it. But, of course, with Hazel not knowing ahead of time about the call, it was unlikely anyone would even answer.