Evening of the Good Samaritan
“But Martha was already at the window, having watched for almost an hour. She leaned out and waved. Tad, on the street, shouted up to her. Sylvia got out her side of the car. “How does he look?”
“Marvelous. Put the car in our garage …”
“I can’t stop,” Sylvia said. “Alex’s plane is due at six.”
She helped Tad upstairs with his luggage. “Here he is, safe, sound and sassy, and at least six inches taller.”
“At least,” Martha said. He came up to her waist. She gave him a hug and kissed his forehead. ...There was always an hour of shyness between them when he came home from the farm at the end of summer. He saw Nathan once or twice a week, and Martha several times over the two months, but coming home was not the same as their visiting him.
Annie came pounding down the hall from the kitchen, the floor creaking beneath her. “Where’s my boy?” And reaching him, she cried in a great spiraling voice: “Oh, Lord, will you look at the length of him! He’s going to be taller than his father.MoreLess
“Marvelous. Put the car in our garage …”
“I can’t stop,” Sylvia said. “Alex’s plane is due at six.”
She helped Tad upstairs with his luggage. “Here he is, safe, sound and sassy, and at least six inches taller.”
“At least,” Martha said. He came up to her waist. She gave him a hug and kissed his forehead. ...There was always an hour of shyness between them when he came home from the farm at the end of summer. He saw Nathan once or twice a week, and Martha several times over the two months, but coming home was not the same as their visiting him.
Annie came pounding down the hall from the kitchen, the floor creaking beneath her. “Where’s my boy?” And reaching him, she cried in a great spiraling voice: “Oh, Lord, will you look at the length of him! He’s going to be taller than his father.MoreLess
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