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Back The Land Beneath Us
Chapters (62)
  1. Cover
  2. Endorsements
  3. Books by Sarah Sundin
  4. Title Page
  5. Copyright Page
  6. Presidential Radio Broadcast
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. Epilogue
  58. Acknowledgments
  59. Discussion Questions
  60. About the Author
  61. Back Ads
  62. Back Cover

Leah swept her gaze around the circle. “No, but it does mean I understand these children. I understand their desperate need to belong. I understand the ridicule and exclusion they endure. And I understand the temptations they face. But with the Lord’s help, I have overcome all this. It’s behind me and forgiven. I can help them overcome too. If you will, I am the very best person to work with these children.”

Miss King smiled softly at her, and Mrs. Whipple dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief and nodded.

Still standing, Mrs. Ross tapped the table like a judge with a gavel. “I want her out, and I call for a vote. Who’s with me?”

“I’m afraid I agree with Mrs. Ross.” Mrs. Susskind’s lips squirmed.

“I vote no,” Miss King said. “I want her here, and so do the children.”

“I vote no too,” Mrs. Whipple said in a firm voice. “Where is your Christian mercy, ladies?”

That left Mrs. Channing, and Leah’s heart plummeted. She threaded her arm through her purse strap so she could leave.

Mrs. Channing scanned the board with her steely gaze. “Let me tell you a story about Mrs. Paxton.”

A story? What story could that be?

Mrs. Channing removed her reading glasses. “A few weeks ago, my daughter said Mrs. Paxton came to her house to return an old postcard tucked inside an encyclopedia they’d donated to the Victory Book Campaign—and that ended up at this orphanage.”

Leah’s jaw flopped open. “Mrs. Mason is your daughter?”

Mrs. Channing nodded. “That postcard was worthless, a scrap of paper long forgotten and fit only for the scrap bin. Mrs. Paxton told my Alice the postcard was lovely and reminded her of her childhood—and yet she returned it. Do those sound like the deeds of a common thief?”

“Indeed not,” Mrs. Whipple said.

“Indeed not.” Mrs. Channing raised her chin higher than Mrs. Ross ever could hope to. “Those are the deeds of a woman of integrity, the kind of woman we want influencing these impressionable young minds. Mrs. Ross, you’re outvoted.”

Leah managed to inhale and then to exhale a “thank you.”

Mrs. Channing winked at her and raised half a smile. “If you can help these ruffians turn out half as well as you’ve turned out, we’ll all be delighted.”

Leah smiled back. On her way out, she’d hug the orphans with extra zest.

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47

TROOP TRANSPORT USS WEST POINT
BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS
SATURDAY, AUGUST 5, 1944

“The Yankees are coming! The Yankees are coming!” the soldier next to Clay whooped. “One if by land and two if by sea!”

Clay grinned and leaned his elbows on the railing of the troop transport USS West Point. The soldier might have mixed up his quotes, but Clay felt his excitement about sailing into Boston Harbor.

The ship chugged past vessels and piers, and Boston’s skyline cut a jagged line in the blue above.