On Christmas Day, Ellie was eager to spend time with her family during Mamm’s wonderful noon feast. Dat had added all the leaves to the table that morning and brought folding tables from the cellar for the grandchildren old enough to eat without assistance. Ellie placed two red tapers in antique glass holders on the long trestle table, a small sprig of holly around the base of each candle. Then she set it for the twelve adults and kept space for a high chair.

Ellie helped Mamm prepare the side dishes—sweet potatoes mashed with cream and butter, cut corn, lima beans, mashed potatoes with turkey gravy, tapioca pudding, chow chow, sweet and sour pickles, green olives, and two pies for dessert—pecan and cherry. All of this while the glazed ham roasted in the cookstove.

How many holidays will Evan miss? Ellie wondered, feeling twinges of sadness, as surely Mamm must be, too. All of us are feeling it.

When it came time for everyone to gather round the table, Dat placed young grandson Caleb on a Sears & Roebuck catalog in Evan’s usual spot. Then Dat bowed his head for the silent table blessing for a noticeably longer time than usual.

After the prayer, the adults passed the serving dishes around. The older children took turns carrying their plates and their younger siblings’ to their mothers, who dished up their food. Rudy and Lovina’s dimple-faced Mary, now nine months old, sat in the wooden high chair while Dawdi Hezekiah made silly faces at her to make her giggle.

The kitchen was overflowing with wonderful-good food, jovial conversation, and most of the dear people in Ellie’s life. Partway through the meal, she paused for a moment to look around and spotted Dawdi, his gray eyes gentle as he looked at her, as though sensing her thoughts.

Ellie doubted Dawdi would want to walk through the orchard in several inches of snow, so after her siblings and their families left around four-thirty, she headed over to his place. As she hurried up the porch steps, she noticed icicles dangling from the roof and sparkling like gems.

She opened the Dawdi Haus door. “It’s Ellie,” she said softly as she slipped inside.

“Was hopin’ ya might come over,” Dawdi said, sitting in his comfortable rocker near the black heater stove in the sitting room. “I’m movin’ a little slow.”

“Did ya have your nap?” Ellie asked as she hung her coat on one of the wooden pegs just inside the door. She headed into the warm room and sat on the sofa.

Dawdi chuckled. “Jah, this ol’ body had to recover after that feast.”

“I think I overate, too,” she said, going on to say she’d played with her nephews and nieces after the leftovers were put away and the dishes were done. “You should’ve stayed round for the songs we sang.”