Alsace smelled different. Not mountains and snow — grapes and earth. Flat, warm, generous. French peasants watched with curiosity: strange Germans in black, with children, no wagons, no livestock, nothing.
First Year
Landowner Jean-Pierre Duval gave them an abandoned farm — for a third of the harvest. Better terms than Switzerland. House — half-ruined but roof intact. Anna scrubbed floors. Jakob fixed the door. Grandfather Stauffer sat on the porch and said: 'I'll die here.' (He lived nine more years.)
By autumn — first harvest. Wheat, cabbage, potatoes. Not rich, but sufficient. Cow — bought collectively with the Millers. Chickens — Duval's gift.
Community
Ammann arrived a month later. Gathered everyone. Thirty-seven families — some from Bern, Zurich, Basel. All had fled. All lost homes. All starting over.
First service — in Duval's barn. Ammann read Romans: 'We glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; perseverance, character; character, hope.' Anna wept. Jakob held Hans on his lap. Maria slept.
The Dream
Three years later, a letter came from the Palatinate. Similar communities there. And rumors: in America, one William Penn promises freedom of religion. To everyone. Without conditions. Cheap land, plenty of forest, no persecution.
Jakob showed the letter to Anna. She read it. Looked at the children — Hans already reading, Maria chattering in three languages (German, French, and toddler). A third child was on the way.
'Again?' Anna asked.
'Last time,' said Jakob.
He was wrong. But his grandchildren did reach Pennsylvania. And stayed forever.