“My beautiful little girl, you have suffered so much. Your hair is whiter than mine.”
Johann Schmidt had returned from the fields and enfolded Anna in a bear hug. The man stood six feet four and had the stocky farmer"s build. At sixty-three he was still solid and could see without glasses. His hair was grey, but abundant.
For a moment they stood with arms wrapped around each other. Then Johann bent and kissed her cheek and Anna rose on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.
“Come, Papa, you must meet my husband.”
MacDonald was standing just behind them, his amused brown eyes surveying the scene.
Johann looked at MacDonald"s chin and then lifted his eyes upward.
“Papa, this is my husband, Zebediah L. MacDonald. Mr. MacDonald, this is my papa, Mr. Johann Schmidt.”
The two men shook hands. Anna per
