The only minutes she could take to write a new attempt were in between canning and cleaning and being a companion for finicky Great-aunt Joanna. These days, Eliza had very little time for herself until after nightfall, when her aunt’s heavy eyelids drooped tightly shut.

Her aunt must have become suspicious about her behavior, however, because several days ago now, she had asked Eliza right out why she was sneaking out of the house after supper. The way her aunt had phrased this made it sound suspicious, and Eliza had felt uncomfortable. I’m not good at hiding my guilt, she thought.

The confrontation had ferhoodled her enough that she was having trouble fulfilling Eb’s birthday request. And, too, she wondered who had told her aunt about her leaving the house. Could it have been that neighbor cousin, Nellie Petersheim?

While her aunt rested that afternoon, Eliza opted to make a simple birthday card, instead of trying to create the perfect note. As she made the swirls and curlicues, she wished she’d thought of this sooner, because it was much easier than writing her thoughts in a note for him.

Finally, Eliza neatly printed, May this be the best birthday ever, with our heavenly Father’s blessing. Your friend, Eliza Hertzler.

It was a simple yet honest note. Now the only thing left to do was get it to the stone wall and place it in the appointed spot while Great-aunt Joanna still napped. So, as quietly as she had done before, Eliza hurried outdoors and over to the wall. There, she stood in front of the tall oak and walked straight ahead until she spotted the large discolored rock and pushed on it.

To her surprise, she found another note from Eb already there! Eliza removed it and put her little homemade card in its place, then returned the rock and dashed back to her aunt’s farmhouse.

Like Eb’s first note, this one was folded up. She wished again that she’d kept that first sweet message where he had stuck his neck out about his feelings, risking rejection.

Back at the house, Eliza went straight to her aunt’s room and looked in, her heart pounding from running all the way back. Relieved that Joanna was asleep and seemed not to have missed her one iota, Eliza counted her blessings.

Then she made her way to her own room, closed the door, and began to read Eb’s latest note.

My dear friend Eliza,

I’m smiling as I write this, because it’s strange to call you “friend” when I catch myself thinking otherwise at times. Now don’t go running scared, because I understand the way things must be. And although that’s unfortunate, we have at least two more months for our friendship to continue. So let’s enjoy the time we have, jah?

I’ll anticipate your birthday note on July twenty-first.

Your friend,
Eb Lapp