“Not too bad, Mrs. Asquinn,” Matt said.

 “Matt, remember what your father told you, don’t swim in deep water without an older kid or adult present,” Mrs. Turehue said.

“I won’t, Mommy.”

 “Children, don’t spend too much time swimming,” Erma said.

            “I won’t, Mommy.”

            “Dinner will be ready soon, and we will be eating immediately,” Mrs. Turehue said.

“We will be there for dinner, Mommy,” Ken said.

A few seconds later the two boys grew tired of the cold water, and were seated lined up together along the edge of the dock close to Erma. Marty and the girls remained on the beach. Erma could see him busy building sandcastles in the fine yellow sand.

            A pause.

“I could help you son with his music over the summer. I play guitar a little,” Erma said.

“How do you know you can help?” Mrs. Turehue said. “Erma, you offered help as if it had already been settled that the family would live here in Forest Lake.”

“Yeah,” Erma said. “I just know we will settle here.”

Mrs. Turehue smiled her wide, bubbly smile, the same smile her son had inherited from her.

“That’s kind of you. He wants to play instruments other than the harmonica.”

Mrs. Turehue said with much interest, “Oh? Which ones?”

Matt looked a little sad when he answered. “What I really want is to play is the fiddle, the piano, guitar and harmonica.”

“That’s what I want to play, too,” Ken disclosed.

“He never liked the piano. He likes the organ,” Erma said.

 “You aren’t from around here,” Mrs. Turehue said. “Where are you from?”

“We’re from Wales,” Marty said.

“Our church sent their Dad out as a missionary,” Erma said.  “My husband didn’t know at the time where God wanted him to settle and start a mission. We’ve been travelling for months.

Obei stopped several places. We met people. He even preached a few sermons. We didn’t get to remain in one place for long.”

“So why make promises you can’t keep by promising Matt you’ll help him with his music over the summer?” Mrs. Turehue said.

Erma patiently continued, ignoring the interruption.

“My husband continued north. Wow. This looks like a great place to live. Mrs. Turehue…”

“Oh, call me Julia, please,” Mrs. Turehue said.

“Would you attend church if my husband decides this is the place to settle?”

Mrs. Turehue didn’t answer right away.  It was Matt that said, “What is Church or Sunday School? We’ve never had anything like that here. Kids that have fathers that can afford a car travel into Lakeview to attend church. We’ve never done that.”

“Would you if my dad started a mission here?” Ken said

“I guess so. Would you?” Matt asked this of Ken.

“Me and my brothers and sister attended church since we were born,” Ken told his new friend.

“Then I will if the two families are going to be friends,” Matt promised.

The boys pulled on their warm socks and shoes. Standing, Mrs. Turehue called to her daughter.

“Come on, Sherry, we’re going home.”

“You too, Marty, Martha,” Erma said to the twins.

The twins left their sand castle building and barrelled towards their mother with sand covered pants, sand filled sneakers, and sand streaks in their hair.

“You will need a bath when you get home,” Erma said.

 She wrinkled his nose. “For more than one reason.”

“Where’s home?” Ken said.

Erma couldn’t answer this.