A Simple Change by Judith Miller Page A

Mother from the wagon, my father supported her as she climbed the two steps into the small foyer of our new home. Two choices awaited us: Walk straight ahead and up the stairway or enter a door to the left of the front entrance. Brother Herman stood beside the closed door until all three of us squeezed inside.
    With a bright smile, he pushed down on the heavy metal door latch. “Welcome to your new home.”
    I waited until Mother and Father entered before I stepped inside. I could feel Brother Herman’s intense gaze upon me as I looked around the room. Except for a table and two chairs at the far end of the room and a multicolored woven rug that covered the majority of the pinewood floor, the room was bare. If the train didn’t arrive tomorrow, we’d be living without a sofa or comfortable chairs, and I worried about Mother’s comfort.
    As if he’d read my thoughts, Father looked at me and then turned to Brother Herman. “We may need to stay at the hotel until tomorrow.” He waved his hand toward the adjoining rooms. “We will need beds for tonight.”
    Brother Herman scratched his head. “You and Sister Almina can stay at my home. We have an extra bedroom, since our two sons have married.” He glanced at me. “I will make arrangements for you to stay upstairs with the Hetrigs. They have a daughter, and you can share her room. I am sure Sister Hanna and Brother Werner will be happy to have you.”
    I swallowed hard. The thought of spending my first night with strangers in these new surroundings wasn’t appealing. And wouldn’t Mother and Father be more comfortable in a hotel? I waited, expecting to hear Father politely decline the invitation.
    Instead, he nodded and smiled. “Thank you for your kind offer.”
    My mouth gaped wide enough to catch flies. “Thank you for your kind offer?” Was my father really accepting Brother Herman’s proposed arrangement? Fixing my eyes on my mother, I cleared my throat and waited until she looked at me.
    â€œI’m sure the Hetrigs would prefer to have me take a room at the hotel. They’ve never even met me.” As a hint of fear took hold, I sent a pleading look in Mother’s direction, hoping she would come to my aid.
    â€œThey’re likely very kind, and it will give you an opportunity to become acquainted with their daughter. Perhaps you’re close to the same age.” She glanced at Brother Herman.
    â€œNein, but I’m sure young Madelyn will be pleased to welcome you. I think she is nine or ten years old. A sweet girl—you will like her.” Brother Herman reached in his pocket and removed a pipe. “Your father said in one of his letters that you like young children, ja?”
    â€œI do like children. I was a teacher in Kansas City, but—”
    â€œGut, then there is no problem. You and Madelyn will do fine together. There is no one at home right now, but I will take you to the Küchehaas and introduce you to Sister Hetrig. She works at the kitchen house where you will eat your meals. They are a gut family. Brother Werner is a supervisor at the grist mill, and their son, Brother Ritter, works at the woolen mill. Brother Ritter prefers to be addressed as Brother Ritt. You will like all of them.” He gave a firm nod that signaled the end of the discussion.
    Pleased or not, fearful or not, ill at ease or not, I would be spending the night in the home of strangers. Maybe Nathan had been correct. Maybe I should have remained in Kansas City. I pushedaside the notion. Wasn’t I the one who constantly reminded the children at the orphanage to remain open to new experiences? Shouldn’t I do the same? After all, nothing good would come from negative thoughts. No matter the circumstances, I wanted to be with my parents. I hoped our new neighbors would prove as likeable as Brother Herman promised.
    â€œWe will need to get you proper clothing. I will ask