“We’re just getting acquainted,” Anna said, not saying how very charming she found him. “So, how’s everyone at your house?”

“Oh, fine, including Mammi. She really came alive again when we talked at the table last night about your work as a tour guide there. For a moment, she seemed to be her old attentive self.”

“I wish I could have been there to see it. Does that happen often?”

“Not often enough, but every now and then I get a glimpse of how she used to be, much like what you noticed when you first told her you were off to Strasburg. Of course, Mamm and Dat dropped by yesterday, too, so maybe seeing them brightened her up, as well.”

Anna couldn’t help but wonder if Mammi’s keenest memories linked to her earliest years. Others she’d known who suffered with dementia struggled terribly with short-term memory but were quite clear about things that had taken place decades before.

“Excuse me a minute,” Wanita said. “Mammi’s waving at me. She must want something.”

Anna could easily picture dear Mammi Eliza comfortably settled in her favorite chair. Her thoughts raced back to how she’d always felt so at home with her grandmother. She could talk openly with Mammi, who took her seriously and always encouraged her to talk freely and lean on the Lord, giving Anna a solid grounding in the simple ways of faith.

“Anna?” Wanita returned to the line, sounding downright befuddled. “I think Mammi wants to talk to you.”

“Are you sure? She hasn’t been able to use the phone in the longest time.”

“Hold on . . . here she is.”

Anna’s heart leaped up at the thought of being able to talk to her grandmother again, like they used to before the confusion had descended. Moments like these were so precious. Don’t get your hopes up, she cautioned herself.

“Hullo, Anna?” came Mammi’s quivery voice.

Hearing Mammi like this brought tears to Anna’s eyes. “It’s so gut to hear your voice!”

“Somethin’s on my mind,” she said. “Bear with me.”

“Take your time, Mammi.”

“Wanita says you’re in Strasburg. Did I ever tell ya I was there?”

“Jah, one summer when you were young,” Anna said. “I wished I’d paid closer attention that day.”

“You and your mother were in my kitchen, the three of us rolling out pie dough.” Mammi Eliza began to talk faster, like she was afraid her memory would fail at any moment. “Anyway, not long after I arrived there . . . I, uh . . .” Mammi sighed. “Well, I remember a stone wall.”

Anna thought that over. “Do you remember where it was?”

Mammi’s breath fluttered into the phone. “Not far from where I was stayin’. I can almost see it—a wall of stacked stone.”

“It must be a special memory,” Anna said softly.

Mammi went silent then, and Anna wondered if she’d forgotten she was on the phone.