A Child's Christmas Wish. Erica Vetsch

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      He looked at Kate. “I don’t want to impose. She’s my responsibility, and I’ll take her if you need to lie down and rest.”

      “I’m fine. I enjoy her company.”

      He nodded and went back out.

      Liesl chattered away, helping Kate and Grossmutter unpack the provisions, showing them where things went. “There’s potatoes in the cellar. That’s where we got the apples for the pie. Daddy has apple trees down by the creek. He says Mama planted them when they were baby trees... What’s a baby tree called?”

      “A sapling?” Kate put a sack of coffee beans into the cupboard.

      “Yes, that’s it. They were saplings. And this is the first year we got apples, and I got to help. Daddy lifted me up to pick some, and he let me put them into the bin in the cellar, but he said I had to be real careful, because apples can get bruises. Daddy said one bad apple would make the whole bin get rotten.”

      While Kate and Grossmutter made supper—chicken and dumplings—Liesl treated them to more of “Daddy says.”

      When the men returned, they gathered around the table. Kate sat beside Oscar and across from Liesl. The little girl bowed her head and held her hand out to her father. Oscar took it and held his other hand out to Kate.

      Slowly, she placed her hand in his large one, and his fingers curled around hers, warm and strong. It had been months since she had held hands with a man. She placed her other fingers into Grossmutter’s, and bowed her head, trying to concentrate on the blessing rather than on the comfort she drew from Oscar’s touch.