even faster than before. They spent the next hour going up and down the mountainside until it was nearly time for supper.
“Okay, this will be the last ride,” Jacob said, moving the sled into position. Anna sat behind him, and they were off. At the end of the ride, the sled tipped and dumped them out onto the snow. Jacob rolled over but before he could get up, Anna leaned over and gently kissed his lips. It lasted only the briefest moment, but for Jacob it was a delightful eternity.
Moses and Jean-Pierre came tumbling down after them and, seeing the kiss, cried out and started pelting them with snowballs. “That’s disgusting!” Moses yelled.
Jacob chased and caught him, commencing a snow battle that left them all completely soaked. “We’ve got to get going,” Jean-Pierre finally said. “Father will be home soon, and they’ll be waiting on us for supper.”
They picked up their bags, straightened out their clothing, and brushed the snow as well as they could off their coats and hats. Then they took off running for the parsonage. It was already dark, and the light from the street lamps lit up the spotless snow behind the church. They wiped their feet before going inside and hung their coats in the hallway. As soon as they crossed the threshold, the comforting warmth of the fireplace reached them. All four of the children, shivering with cold, went to warm up by the fire. Nelly, Jean-Pierre’s older sister, was peeved.
“I had to set the table and get everything ready by myself. Where have you all been?”
Jacob had hidden the sled outside the house and had warned the others not to mention it, so he would not get in trouble at his boardinghouse.
Magda came out of the kitchen carrying a huge white soup pot. She chatted with Alice and seemed to be in such a good mood she hardly noticed the children’s clothes. “Have you washed your hands?” she asked distractedly.
They all four ran to the bathroom, scuffling to be first, then returned noisily to the dining room.
“André is at a meeting with the youth leaders, and he might be a while. So you children go on and eat. I don’t want you up all night. And you boys will have to get back to your homes soon,” Magda said. Her tone made them feel like they were just three more Trocmés.
“If you’d like, I can take them back to their homes,” Alice offered. She was always willing to help. Since her arrival at Christmastime, Magda had regained her former energy and upbeat spirits. Though she never shook the concern for what might happen to her husband and the other leaders of the civil movement against the Nazis, it did not keep her from working tirelessly.
The children threw themselves into the chairs around the table and, the moment the prayer was over, grabbed their spoons and dug into the soup. Within minutes, they were on their second helpings.
Alice and Magda returned to the kitchen. Seeing the children eat heartily made them glad, but they had much to do to get ready for the next day. They had only been working a few minutes when they heard a knock at the door.
Magda went and opened it, unconcerned. A cold gust blew a few snowflakes into the entryway, and Magda was still smiling when she saw the dark, imposing figures of two gendarmes.
At first, she did not know how to react. It was unusual for them to drop by to visit André at this time of night, especially in winter.
“Can I help you?” she finally asked.
“Is this where the pastor André Trocmé lives?” one of the policemen said.
“Yes, but he’s not here at the moment. Why do you want to see him?” she asked, curious.
“It’s a personal matter.”
Magda presumed it had to do with a transfer. When children were rescued from a refugee camp, the gendarmes often oversaw the transfer.
“My husband is a rather busy man, but you can come in and wait in his study. He should be home soon.”
The men politely removed their hats and followed her down the hall to Trocmé’s office. Magda left them and returned to the kitchen.
Alice had not seen who came in. “Who was it?” she asked.
Magda shrugged it off. “Some gendarmes looking for André.”
The women went back to their work, unaware that Trocmé had come to the house through the door by the church and gone directly to his office, meeting the gendarmes.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” he said, taken