Besides that, the wind was so severe and the snow so heavy, she ought to get her chores done and head back to the house right quick. Dismissing her urge to call Hazel, Britta began to scoop up the feed and pour it into the horses’ trough, working quickly.

When she was finished, Britta opened the stable door to snow falling so fast it was hard to see where to walk—she could make out only the dark tree trunks. The snow hides some things and defines others, she thought as she leaned into the harsh wind and cold.

Once the Monday washing was hung in the basement and Jonathan Ebersol had come to plow the driveway open, Susie and Mamma donned their snow boots and headed on foot to help Liz wash and cut up the chickens that Jonathan’s widower brother, Joel, had just butchered two farms away. In exchange for their help, Joel had generously offered to share with Mamma.

After they finished and returned home again, Susie carried the wrapped chicken to the propane-powered freezer in the basement, then spent several hours stitching one of the largest family trees she’d ever agreed to make. Her goal was to complete it well before the school program the Saturday before Christmas. This year, Britta had been chosen to play the part of Mary, and there was even talk that Bishop Beiler’s two-month-old great-grandson would represent the Christ Child. Susie could hardly wait, telling herself that her excitement had nothing to do with seeing Obie again.

The temperature had been falling the morning of the schoolhouse Christmas program, and Susie wondered if Mamma should even attempt to go out in the cold. Britta was stringing up Christmas cards over the doorway between the kitchen and the front room, as well as over two of the kitchen windows. Susie had added a couple Christmasy touches in her room, too, decorating her dresser with Obie’s pinecone and holly sprig—placed so as not to be readily visible from the hallway.

Mamma suggested Britta bring down the colorful quilted table runner from the upstairs blanket chest, since the red and green would make the kitchen look festive.

Eagerly, Britta ran up to Mamma’s room to get it, and when she returned, she remarked how unique the runner was. “I’ve never seen one like this anywhere else,” she said. “Ain’t hand sewn, either.”

“A gift from a neighbor years ago,” Mamma replied.

“Englischer?” Susie asked, surprised.

Mamma nodded.

Britta placed the pretty runner on the kitchen table, then stepped back to admire it. “You know, I think maybe Susie or I could make somethin’ like this to sell,” she said. “Using our treadle machine.”

Mamma looked at them, smiling. Then she said, “I daresay Susie doesn’t have a speck of extra time, but maybe you could, Britta.”