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Ruby McCann and her groceries. How will she cook her dinner if the Corner Market is closed?”
    “Folks are just going to have to drive over to Russellville for their groceries, and you need to stop worrying about it. I’ll check on Mrs. McCann. She can shop with me the next time I go.”
    “But she likes only the freshest ingredients. Each morning she comes to the market for her milk. She buys every single day from me, Elizabeth. And if the produce is not just so, she gets very unhappy.”
    “She’ll adjust.” Elizabeth laid her hand on the old man’s frail chest. It worried her that the doctor could find no specific cause for Boompah’s immobilizing aches and pains. “We all need to put our faith in God about this. He’ll help us through, if we just ask him.”
    “I will pray,” Nick announced, and before his mother could react, he began. “Dear God, please fix Boompah’s sore back right away. Even though heaven has pearl gates, we don’t want Boompah to go there yet. We aren’t finished with him here. Mrs. McCann needs her groshies, and we need Boompah because we love him. Thy kingdom kong, thy will be done, amen.”
    Nick bent over and gave the old man a loud smacking kiss on the cheek. “OK, Boompah,” he said firmly, “you don’t have to worry anymore. God is the boss. Come on, Mom, it’s time to go home.”
    Elizabeth sent her son to the kitchen to fetch a glass of fresh water for the bedside table. “Boompah,” she said softly, “I think Nick is right. We need to trust God with our worries. He can care for Mrs. McCann, and he’ll watch over you.”
    “And you too, Elizabeth. I believe God has a good plan for you, if you can let him take your life.”
    “He has my life, Boompah.”
    “Does he?” The old man’s eyes slid open, and one thin eyebrow lifted. “And you are letting God be the boss? I hear you are having a big fight with that Chalmers boy about Grace’s house.”
    “Who told you that?”
    “Ach. There are no secrets in Ambleside.”
    “I’m just trying to do what I think Grace would have wanted, Boompah. Surely you don’t think I should give up and let that self-centered Zachary Chalmers tear down the mansion. Why would God want that?”
    “We don’t understand the ways of God. When I was a little Gypsy boy living with my parents, do you think I could understand why a man like Adolph Hitler came to kill all the Roma? It seemed wrong.”
    “It was wrong!”
    “Ja, but God can make good come out of what seems very bad. His ways are not our ways. His plans are the best for us, and we should look always to his path and not our own.”
    “You think I should just give up?”
    “Never give up, Elizabeth.” Boompah rested a moment before speaking again. “But I believe that Chalmers boy is not an evil fellow. He thinks his plan is good, and you think your plan is good. Maybe you can pray together to see what is the plan of God.”
    Elizabeth took the glass from Nick and set it near Boompah’s bed. Pray with Zachary Chalmers? That would be like asking Churchill to sit down and pray with Hitler. Hardly possible.
    “We’ll come see you tomorrow, Boompah,” Nick said. “You’ll be better.”
    “I hope so, Nikolai,” the old man said. “Thank you for coming.”
    As Elizabeth and her son made their way down the front porch steps of Boompah’s rickety clapboard house, they watched a car pull into the driveway. Someone arriving with a meal, no doubt. She was thankful that Boompah hadn’t been forgotten during his time of need. He was always so good to take groceries to the sick or to fill baskets for the hungry at Thanksgiving and Christmas.
    “Yoo-hoo!” Pearlene Fox waved as she got out of her car. “Hey there, Liz! How’s Mr. Jungemeyer this evening?”
    “About the same.”
    “I brought him one of my tuna casseroles.” Balancing on high heels, she crossed the gravel drive. “You know how Phil is always bragging on my cooking. I thought Mr. Jungemeyer could