“I’m sure you’ve heard from Evan now that he’s overseas,” Cheryl said. “I received a letter from him not long ago—written from the trenches.” She shivered momentarily.

“Jah, he wrote ’bout the monsoons and how difficult it is to write letters with rain pouring on him and his unit.”

Cheryl nodded. “I’m holding my breath until he’s home safely.”

Ellie felt the same. “And praying, too, ain’t so?”

Cheryl smiled. “Maybe I’ll do that.”

Ellie mentioned the sale thread.

“That’s what I came for, too,” Cheryl said.

“Oh, what’re ya makin’?”

“Two animal pillows for my cousin’s twin girls, Lisa and Kimberly, in Chambersburg—birthday gifts.”

“Ach . . . my friend Leah is their live-in mother’s helper.”

“Yes, I know. Carolyn mentioned that connection back last spring when Leah first moved there to help. As they say, it’s a small world.”

Ellie agreed.

“Well, it’s nice to see you again, Ellie.”

“You too, Cheryl,” she replied, then made her way to the cash register.

What would Evan think of us running into each other? Ellie wondered as Ruthann joined her with an armful of royal blue and violet material.

Opening her window shades, Ellie was greeted by the most glorious sight. Many of the early apple trees were in full bloom this third week in April, as well as the remaining pink peach blossoms. Two days ago, she, Jonah, Rudy, Titus, and the other workers had placed honeybee hives on the apple side of the orchard—one hive for every two acres. It was essential to time this right as the blossoms were beginning to open.

Ellie felt sorry that Evan was missing out on this wondrous time in the orchard. She was fairly sure, though, that he hadn’t forgotten the splendor of the blossoming trees even in the midst of combat. Thankfully, he hadn’t gone into any detail about his fighting in his most recent letter.

23

Following the April twenty-fifth fellowship meal at church, Ellie wandered down a row of apple trees at home, breathing in the sweet fragrance and embracing the fluffy white beauty around her. She thanked God for it. In another few days, the apple blossoms would disappear, and the miniature fruitlets would start to develop.

She’d gone there alone, since Dawdi had fallen asleep in his willow rocker on his back porch, not far from the firewood bin. He firmly believed that the Good Lord had made Sunday afternoons for napping. Dat and Mamm, however, had taken the team over to Hunsecker Mill Road to visit Onkel Amos and Aendi Emma Lapp—Mamm’s next-younger brother and his wife. It was the perfect time to slip away for a nice long walk.