was as cheerful and alive as anyone I’d ever known. As for Abram’s Leah, well, I possessed determination. “Grit . . . with a lip,” Dat often said of me. And I do remember that I had a good bit of courage, too. Never could just stand by tight-mouthed, overhearing the womenfolk speculate on “Abram’s rough-’n’-tumble girl”—them looking clear down their noses at me just ’cause I wasn’t indoors baking pies or doing needlework. Goodness, that’s how Sadie spent her time . . . and Hannah and Mary Ruth, and