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market is a good place to buy what we need and sell whatever we grow, if we ever have more than what our family needs.” His handsome face couldn’t look more enthusiastic. “And they sell fresh donuts there on Wednesdays.”
    â€œDo you really hold preaching services in a new building like the Mennonites?” asked Nora.
    Thomas smiled patiently at her. “We do. It’s our meetinghouse, school, and church. We don’t worship in one another’s houses.”
    â€œSo you just hang around there, visiting after lunch?”
    Thomas paused a moment. “We eat a simple meal after services, but after that we usually have hymn singing for the whole congregation and then go home.”
    Nora nodded while pushing green beans around her plate. “Where’s the closest Walmart?”
    â€œI have no idea,” he said as Sally burst out laughing. “Probably in Bangor, but that’s too far for us to go by buggy.” Thomas set down his fork. “You’ll find things much slower and quieter here than what you’re accustomed to.”
    â€œThat suits me fine.” John dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “Say, do I smell something burning?”
    Sally leaped to her feet. Eager to hear about the tour, she forgot about two apple pies still baking.
    Thomas jumped up too. “Careful now, fraa . Don’t burn yourself on those hot pans.” He grabbed oven mitts from a drawer and carefully removed the smoking pies from the oven. Sally opened the window and set two trivets on the sill. Thomas placed them so smoke would drift outside and then leaned over to inspect them.“Only the crust is burnt,” he announced. “I trust the insides can be scraped out with a spoon just fine.”
    Sally smiled at him gratefully, but she couldn’t wait for supper to be over with, especially after she’d noticed her brother-in-law’s expression of utter disapproval.

    â€œWalk with me, bruder ,” said Thomas.
    John jumped to his feet. Dessert had been a disaster—the apples were as mushy as the parsley potatoes earlier in the meal and just as lumpy. “ Jah , sure. I could use some exercise. I’d love to look at your workshop again.”
    â€œA man needs a way to keep his hands busy during the long winter.” Thomas held open the kitchen door and they stepped into a warm summer night.
    â€œWith weather as hot as this, cold temperatures are hard to imagine.” John gazed at a sky already beginning to darken as the sun slipped behind the hills.
    â€œOur hot weather lasts barely a month, not three like in Pennsylvania. And the growing season is shorter here. We can’t plant until late May and must harvest silage corn in September, not November. At best we’ll get three hay cuttings, not four, and sometimes snowstorms come in October.”
    â€œYou don’t say? I bought a book to read about New England agriculture for the bus ride. I worked on a construction crew back home to save money toward a farm. Because I already know carpentry, maybe I could learn woodworking and help out in your shop this winter.” John paused to admire the three-story barn with a gambrel roof. “Almost every barn I saw today was brand-new like yours.”
    Thomas batted away a mosquito. “Most barns in Waldo Countyhave to be knocked down. Farming dried up here forty years ago, but it’s slowly coming back. Young Englischers have started organic produce farms and welcome us with open arms. Everyone wants this section of Maine to return to its former productivity.”
    â€œDid you buy an English home?” asked John, selecting a hay bale for a perch.
    â€œ Jah , the house came with the land. The bishop gave me a year to pull out the electrical wiring, but it needed lots of other work. Nobody had lived here for years other than mice. But at least we had a roof over our heads during the reconstruction.” Thomas peered up at