Ellie didn’t want to dwell on this with such a short time to spend with Leah, so she changed the subject. “Tell me what it’s like at the church in Chambersburg.”

“It’s a joy, actually—and similar to our church here. I was startin’ to feel lost not being able to attend Preaching for so long.”

Ellie nodded. “There’s just something about joining your voice with everyone’s and hearin’ the sermons, ain’t?”

“And visitin’ with folk at the common meal.”

Ellie laughed softly. “Gut fellowship, jah.”

Leah suggested taking a shortcut through the orchard, and Ellie agreed, wondering how often they’d done this on their many walks. “Mamm’ll wanna see ya, I’m sure.”

“I was hopin’ to visit with her. And how’s your Dawdi? Still tellin’ his stories?”

“He’s all right. Still has his sense of humor, for sure.” Ellie mentioned their frequent jaunts to inspect the trees for pests.

When Ellie and Leah arrived at the house, Mamm greeted them at the side door. “Willkumm! I’m glad ya stopped by, Leah.” She ushered them in through the hallway to the warm kitchen. “There’s hot cider waitin’ and some dessert leftovers,” she said, giving Leah a hug, tears welling up.

Ellie took Leah’s coat and scarf and hung them beside hers, then returned to the kitchen, so thankful her friend had come, helping to dispel some of the sadness on this special day.

The final days of November brought milder weather, and Ellie often encountered both Menno and Sol while out pruning the apple trees. Menno and the other seasonal workers would soon be let go for the winter, which meant Ellie would only see Menno regularly at church and Singings every other week. She rather lamented that—though it wasn’t as if he was leaving town again like Leah had.

Lyle was relaxing with Elisabeth in their bedroom as she read him the letter Evan had written to them on Thanksgiving. Evan said he’d “somehow lived through” basic training, with its five-to-six-mile runs before breakfast every day and obstacle courses. Presently, he’d start eight weeks of Advanced Infantry Training. Today was November thirtieth, and Lyle made the calculation in his head for when that would end.

When Evan made a point of saying he’d still have time to read letters from home at night, Lyle realized their son had spared them any comments about combat practice and other preparations for war. He appreciated that for Elisabeth’s sake. Anymore, these letters had a tendency to give him heartburn, and it disturbed him to think that Evan was likely marching with a rifle on his shoulder. Sometimes he wondered if he would even recognize his youngest son if he ran into him on the street somewhere.