She found old books, as well as letters from relatives who had passed on, and, encased in a plastic bag, a lovely autumn wreath made with twine and twigs from the woods. Some of the berries had fallen off, but a few remained, as did a soft gold velvet ribbon.

Admiring it, Anna wondered if it might be something Mammi would like to see again. On the other hand, she didn’t want to confuse her unnecessarily. Not for the world.

Looking around to make sure she’d refolded and placed everything back as it had been, Anna sighed as she reached for the hinged lid and gradually brought it down. Discouraged, she sat on the lid and looked out the attic dormer window toward the pastureland.

“So that’s it,” she whispered, leaning her head into her hands and closing her eyes tightly. “I need to let this go.”

After a time, she rose and tiptoed around the opposite side of the chest.

Then, seeing what looked like a dusty book peeking out from beneath the old chest, she reached down to pick it up. Thrilled, she brushed off a small diary with a lock and tiny key dangling by a thin yellow ribbon.

The key fit the minuscule lock easily, and Anna noticed the name and date on the first page: Eliza Hertzler, 1948. Without thinking about invading Mammi’s privacy, Anna turned to the month of June and scanned through the pages, looking for any mention of a stone wall.

Mammi won’t mind, she thought, still hoping this might be just the thing to confirm her grandmother’s attempts to reveal something about her past.

Anna read further. The entries were short and rather obscure—a few mentions of her great-aunt Joanna and a black Lab named Grady. Nothing about a beau . . . or a meeting at a stone wall.

Wanita called up the steps, and Anna let her know that she’d found something. “Bring it down and we’ll have a look-see,” Wanita said as Anna made her way to the steep staircase.

Anna carried the still dusty diary downstairs and placed it in Wanita’s hands. “I’d love to look through it more thoroughly, if it’s all right,” Anna said.

Wanita looked quite surprised. “Where did ya find this?”

Anna told her, hoping Mamm wouldn’t be upset at this discovery, but secretly, Anna was thrilled.

Early Monday morning, the day after Anna’s return from Mifflinburg, she bounded out of bed before her alarm sounded and hurried to the dresser drawer where she’d placed Mammi’s diary for safekeeping. Grateful for Mamm’s approval to bring the diary back to Strasburg, Anna tenderly turned the pages she’d stayed up last night reading. There were no revelations about any young man, but as Anna read forward now, she noticed a different sort of entry, a page on the righthand side of the diary with a description that caught her attention: