Susannah May Farmer walked up two steps to a glass door which had the words “Lilies of the Field” painted on it in fancy gold letters. As she pushed open the door, little bells tinkled cheerfully and warm, sweet-smelling air rushed to greet her.
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Joseph Anderson Donetti paused in his writing. “I’m coming!” he called, putting the cap back on the black marker. He sighed. He’d have to finish copying his memory verse onto the wall later. So far he had written only, “My God will meet all.”
Mac twirled across the kitchen. “I love winter!” she exclaimed, ending up at the window where she pressed her nose against the cold pane and tried to look out. Then she turned back to her mom. “I love the smell of the Christmas tree. I love the decorations all over town.
Joseph Anderson Donetti held the telephone away from his ear. “Come over! Come over! You’ve got to come over here right now!” Mac’s voice shrieked through the receiver.
MacKenzie Isabelle Evans skidded into the classroom. She glanced around. “Where’s Pastor Chuck?” she asked breathlessly.
“I’ve got a job!” Mac exclaimed, a big grin splitting her face. “Well, I’ve got a job if you will help me. I mean, if G.M. will let you help me. I sure hope it’s OK with her!”
MacKenzie Isabelle Evans slowly pushed one black checker into the next row. She paused and carefully looked over the positions of all the pieces on the board before she removed her finger from the checker. “There!” she said. “Your turn.”
Mac slid inside. “Look what my dad gave me,” she said. “You’re going to love it!”
Joseph Anderson Donetti hurried down the hall to his classroom. He hoped he wasn’t late. He hated being late. It was embarrassing.
MacKenzie Isabelle Evans watched a large brown maple leaf drift down to the sidewalk. She promptly stomped on it and grinned at the crunching sound. Autumn was her favorite time of the year. And leaf stomping was one of her favorite autumn activities.
