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“biltis, turkey, September 15, 1877 “Dear Anna and Henry, “By now you must surely have your new daughter or son. I have sent a small gift of knitted items for her or him, and hope they ‹t. “Tensions continue to grow with the Turks. Several of the men of the Gregorian church were arrested last week. We continue to await word of them. Of course, although we disapprove of their form of worship , we are also aware that the government disapproves of any form of Christianity and turns the same hostile eye to the rest of us. “As I mentioned in my last letter, the British consulate has asked that Protestantism be recognized as a separate religious community from the many Gregorian churches that abound both here and elsewhere , but so far that has not transpired. We are very much aware that we remain here at Sultan Abdul Hamid’s pleasure, and that he could evict us, or worse, at a moment’s notice. Pray for us, dear sister.” Leroy amongst the Angels leroy, age three, danced with excitement as his mother helped him dress. She had promised him that if he was very good in church the day before, neither squirming nor rustling during the two-hour homily, he might go to the chicken yard with her today and help feed the hens. He had often admired the chickens from a distance. He clasped his chubby hands behind his back to keep them in check; too often had they ›own out in excitement and knocked things over, earning those hands a brisk slap. The chickens ran about on legs so quick and nimble, thought Leroy. Their heads stretched out on their limber, softly feathered necks, enabling them to stare at a choice tidbit on the ground with now one eye, then with the other, before with a lightning-quick strike they snatched up the object. It disappeared like magic! He thought these chickens must be something like the angels that Dr. Waters described, winged beings that could do magical things. He had once watched one especially canny speckled hen dance over to a pile of discarded cabbage greens his mother had dropped over the fence. In the huge green pile, she alone had sighted the fat green caterpillar and pounced on it, impaling it on her yellow beak. She did a soli65 tary dance with her prize, shaking it, dropping it, stepping daintily in a sideways circle, and again lifting, shaking, dropping it, dancing, crooning to her treasure. Her tiny round eyes seemed to shine with joy. Then as a special hen’s sense warned her of another’s interest in the plump morsel, she pounced a ‹nal time, tossed it into the air, caught it neatly, and swallowed it. Today, at last, he was to be allowed to approach those marvelous beings on their own ground, mingling intimately with them the way that only his mother was allowed to do, strewing offerings in their path. Face and hands washed, hair combed, mush eaten, and face wiped again, Leroy trotted along behind her. He carried the smaller bucket containing cracked grains; Anna led the way carrying a pailful of water in one hand, the bucket of parings, shells, and plate scrapings in the other. Anna’s chickens were unused to assaults from small creatures; dogs that attacked poultry in that struggling farm community were summarily dispatched, as were marauding foxes and hawks and egg-stealing raccoons or skunks. Until this day, the most excitement most of these fowls had experienced was the occasional too-close approach by a visiting farm wagon. Anna set down her load, unlatched the opening, and waved Leroy through. As she stooped to pick up her buckets again, Leroy, with a crow of joy, dashed toward his speckled favorite, intending to offer her the ‹rst of the grain. He ›apped his hands; the bucket ›ew and then bounced, grain showering in every direction. Henry stepped out of the barn with a barrowful of manure in time to see the terri‹ed hens exploding in all directions, squawking and shrieking. Leroy halted, amazed at the birds’ reaction. A hard hand grasped his roundabout and jerked him back; his foot kicked his mother’s pail, spilling orts all over the ground. For one confused moment he thought one of the hens had grabbed him, and he cowered, arms above his head. He looked up into the terrifying face of his mother; a wail escaped him. Henry hurried...

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