Even though Sammy was almost three, she continued to make his shirts with snaps at the bottom like a boppli’s gown. They kept his shirt from popping out the back of his pants and flapping behind him. “It’s time to go downstairs,” she said to him as she glanced at her mamm, who sat on the bed in the room that once had been Rebekah and Lloyd’s. “Grossmammi can’t wait to have you sit with her.” “Sit with Mamm.” His lower lip stuck out in a pout. “But I have cookies.” Almina Mast smiled at her grandson. She was a tiny woman, and her hair was the same white as her kapp. With a kind heart and a generous spirit, she and her husband Uriah had hoped for more kinder, but Rebekah had been their only one. The love they had heaped on her now was offered to Sammy. “Cookies? Ja, ja!” He danced about to his tuneless song. Mamm put a finger to her lips. “Quiet boys get cookies.”
