Waiting for Summer's Return Quotes

“People who have lost much are always worried about losing more. So they guard their hearts. It is not that she does not feel the happiness; she only wishes to hide it so as not to be hurt should she lose something more.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“Why should you try to never have laughter again? Did you die? No, you are alive. So be alive! Laugh if you want to, cry if you must, let yourself feel.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“But don’t think for a moment I don’t know what you’re up to. And I won’t always be so easily manipulated.” “Ma-nip-u-lated.” Peter scowled. “I do not know what this means.” Her chin thrust out. “Oh, yes you do.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“the God I love and serve hears all prayers. He answers all prayers. Sometimes it is yes. Sometimes it is wait awhile. Sometimes it is no. He knows best.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“The arm at her waist tightened. “You are happy, my Summer?” She smiled into Peter’s dear face and reached up to stroke his beard once. “I am more than happy. My joy overflows.” Peter leaned down until his face was mere inches from hers. “Ich liebe dich, Summer Steadman.” She needed no translation. “And I love you.” She raised onto tiptoes, closing the distance needed for their lips to meet in a kiss moist with happy tears.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“Summer Steadman,” came his voice of distant thunder, so tender Summer’s heart ached with the beauty of the moment, “the God we serve has brought us together. He has opened my heart to loving you with a love that endures. You would do me much honor if you would agree to become my wife.” Warm tears ran down Summer’s cheeks. She could not find her voice, but she gave an eager nod and allowed her smile to speak for her.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“I think this will please you.” The smile in his eyes made Summer’s heart lurch. “What is it?” “Open and see.” She peeled back the layers of rag. “My teacup!” He touched the delicate rim of the cup with one rough finger. “Surprised I was to find it all in one piece. The saucer was broken in two, but not even a chip does the cup have.” He pushed his hands into his pockets. “I save the pieces from the plate, and I will glue them for you.” Tears filled her eyes. There were so many things this man had put back together for her. She looked up at him and found him watching her with a secretive smile on his lips, visible behind the bushiness of his beard.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“What for are you crying?” His gaze raised to meet Summer’s, the furrow between his eyes deepening. “What has happened?” He looked to the chair, where the grandmother held up her gnarled hands and shook her head, apparently attempting to offer assurance. “Nothing’s wrong, Pa. It’s onions.” Mr. Ollenburger seemed to wilt with relief. Summer felt a wave of sympathy for the real fear he had experienced. She swept away the tears with the backs of her wrists and held up a thick slice of onion. “Yes … see? You grow powerful onions in your garden, Mr. Ollenburger.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“Guten nacht. Schlop die gesunt.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“Summer thought about spending the day inside that house with the old woman watching. Silently watching.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“shaped”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“triangular-shaped dwelling about fourteen feet across on its”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“Then, later, we are told we cannot gather to worship. We must to go somewhere else if we wish to meet together and learn from Scripture. So we go. And when we meet again, I never take lightly listening to the Word. I think less of the good chicken dinner and more of the food of the spirit. I listen close. I remember. I hide the words in my heart.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“That man out there loves you, and you’re playing cat and mouse. I don’t understand the reason.” Heat flooded Summer’s cheeks. She flapped her jaw, but no words came out. “For months I’ve watched you finger the letters from the little boy, and each time you mentioned the father’s name, your expression changed.” Summer was amazed by Nadine’s observations. Had she really been so transparent? “Do you love him?” Nadine demanded. Summer dropped her chin, and Nadine gave her a little shake. “I said, do you love him?” Summer gave her a brief, painful nod. “Then why are you holding yourself aloof?” “I … I …” “Well? What!” “I’m afraid.” Nadine pulled back and lowered her brows. “Afraid? Of what?” Tears filled Summer’s eyes. “Oh, Nadine, he’s hardly spoken two words to me. We used to talk so easily, Peter and I. But now … He’s different. And I don’t know why.” She swallowed, and one tear spilled down her cheek. “I’m afraid his heart has changed.” “Nonsense.” Though the word was curt, Nadine’s tone was gentle. “He loves you—I could see it on his face at the train depot, and I saw it on his face at his house. His heart hasn’t changed—not one bit. Something is making him keep his distance, and you must find out what it is. I’ll take the boy away for a while. You talk. You work things out.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“When he set her feet on the ground, she did not move her hands from his shoulders right away, but looked at him with a winsome expression. His breath came fast and hard, and he wished once more they could be alone and he could just kiss her and see what happened.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“He did not wish to be formal. He wished to sweep her into his arms and welcome her with a kiss that would speak all the things his heart felt.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“Summer?” She jumped, splattering the front of her dress and apron with suds. Turning, she spotted Peter standing just behind her left shoulder. “You did it again. One would think feet as large as yours incapable of moving soundlessly.” He gave the expected chuckle. Then, without warning, he took the corner of the apron and brushed it across her chin. She felt her face go hot at the butterfly touch. “Mark of your surprise was sitting on your chin,” he said as he dropped the apron. “W-what?” “Soap sud.” He chuckled again. “The dishwater must be too hot. Red your face is.” She spun back to face the dishpan. “Would you like help?” She glanced at him. The eagerness in his eyes reminded her of his son. Without speaking, she nodded.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“But, Summer,” Thomas interrupted, “if you have your own house, you won’t be living here anymore.” Summer pulled her attention away from Peter. “No, but I was only staying until you were caught up on your studies and could return to school. You’re all caught up and even ahead, I would wager. Your ribs have healed enough for you to ride Daisy to school when the winter break is over. So my time here is nearly done.” “But-but …” the boy sputtered. “What is troubling you, boy?” Peter asked. Thomas looked at the floor. “I wanted Summer to … always stay here. I wanted her to … be … my ma.” His words ended on a hoarse whisper. Summer felt as though her heart turned over in her chest. She looked at Peter, uncertain how to answer the boy. By Peter’s expression, he was lost, too. Maternal instinct took over, and she pulled Thomas into her embrace. As he had the night Peter didn’t return, the boy clung, burying his face against her shoulder.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“Suddenly he scowled. “How long were you out in the cold?” She shrugged. “I’m really not sure.” “How long, boy?” Peter glared down at Thomas. The boy shrugged, too, his eyes wide. “I don’t know, Pa. She went out after we cleaned up from lunch, and the sun was setting when she came back in.” Peter stomped across the floor. “Let me see your hands.” She held up her hands, too surprised to do otherwise. “Do you feel pain in them?” She cringed. His large fingers pressing her flesh created a new rush of discomfort. “Oh, yes. In my feet and ears, too.” He cupped her cheeks and tipped her head, looking at her ears, then guided her to the table. He placed her in a chair and lifted her feet in turn. Finally he sat back on his haunches and grinned at her. “You will be in world of hurt, but that is good thing. The pain tells you nothing will be lost.” He shook his head. “You are amazing woman, Summer Steadman.” Despite her discomfort, Summer couldn’t stop smiling as she looked at the gentle bear of a man.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“He touched her arm. “Frau Steadman, how old are you?” “I am twenty-nine.” She looked up at him, puzzled by the question. “Why?” He removed his hand and slid it into his trouser pocket. “You were a young bride, then.” She tipped her head. “Yes, I suppose I was. No one seemed to think I was too young, however. My sister-in-law was very eager to see me wed. She could be rid of me then, you see.” She offered a weak smile. “You are still a young woman. Do you—” his ears turned bright red—“do you ever wish to have another family?” Immediately she turned her attention to the pot of bubbling cornmeal mush. “I don’t know.” Why was he asking this?”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“Cranky you are this morning, Frau Steadman.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“Felt good,” the boy said, his gaze never wavering from Summer’s face, “to have you there with Pa and Grossmutter and me. I … I like you a lot, Summer.” For the first time Summer opened her arms and embraced the boy. His arms wrapped around her waist as if he’d never let go. She felt tears prick her eyes as she breathed in the dusty little-boy smell. How good it felt to hold the child. “I like you, too, Thomas.” She swallowed against tears that threatened to burst forth. With effort, she removed herself from his hug.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“Mrs. Steadman, do you have a first name?” The question had taken her aback, and she had stammered out, “Well, of course I do. It’s Summer.” The boy’s eyes had widened. “Summer? I like that name.” She had shared the reason for her unusual name, watching his eyebrows rise. When she was finished, he had exclaimed, “You’re like me, then. You don’t have a ma, either.” She had shaken her head. “No, I don’t.” Abruptly, he had turned the conversation back to her name. “May I call you Summer? When it’s just us, I mean? Not in front of Rupert.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“Leaning close, Thomas whispered, “I think she’s gonna be my new ma.” Even though Thomas had never dared to think such a thing, now that he’d said it, it sounded like a good idea. Even though sometimes she got bossy, he knew that’s what ma’s did—told children what to do. But most of the time she was nice, and he really liked Mrs. Steadman. He knew she liked him, too. Rupert stared at Thomas, bug-eyed. “Your new ma? But … but she can’t!” “Why can’t she?” He shrugged. “She doesn’t have a husband, and she and my pa get along real good. She can be my new ma if she wants to.” Rupert shook his head. “My pa’s a deacon, and I know the rules. Your pa can’t marry her because she’s not part of our church.” “But she’s going to be.” Thomas stuck out his chin. “You’ll see.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“You are unhurt, Frau Steadman?” The genuine concern in his voice brought tears to her eyes. “I’m unhurt. Thank you, Mr. Ollenburger.” A sob of relief broke the last word in half. “You get up now.” In the dim glow of a single lantern, she watched him remove his coat. He wrapped it around her as he helped her to her feet. “We get you to the house.” “Your shariah … The chair, my teacup …” She muttered nonsensically as he guided her across the ground. Her teeth chattered despite the comforting warmth of his coat and his heavy arm around her shoulders. “I’m so sorry.” “You have no need for sorry.” His calm voice was incongruous to the storm that continued to rage. Snowflakes danced on the wind, stinging her cheeks. “You are safe now. That is all that matters.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“It’s useless.” “You will find it,” he insisted, misinterpreting her meaning, “if your heart is open. So a way must be made for your heart to be open. I must change part of our bargain.” Summer lowered her brows. “Are you planning to manipulate me again, Mr. Ollenburger?” “No manipulate. Only say this—if you teach my son, you must go to church with us. Church, like laughter, is good for the soul.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“You laugh at me, Frau Steadman?” Mr. Ollenburger touched his chest, his face twisting into an offended pout, yet his eyes sparkled merrily.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“Only thing better than fresh onion is fresh onion in vinegar.” She held up the vinegar jar. “I have it here, ready to go.” At his look of surprise, she added, “Thomas said you especially enjoy eating onions and vinegar.” “Ja, I do.” He laced his fingers and pressed them to his stomach. “But I warn you, it will smell like a whole roomful of stout Germans when I am through.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“Peter paused, his gaze drifting to the shelf that held the china teapots. Beside the pots stood dainty cups and saucers with similar painted patterns. Glancing over his shoulder to ensure the woman did not peek in the window, he crossed to the shelf and selected a cup with the same rose design as that on the teapot she had admired. How ridiculous the cup looked when held in his big callused hands. Yet it would suit the woman. He handed the cup to Nick. “Wrap this and put it within her bundle.” “A gift, Peter?” Nick’s eyes sparkled. Peter felt his neck grow hot. “A … payment … for what she endured today with Frau Schmidt.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return

“I would like to speak to you about Thomas.” She jumped and clutched her heart. His thick brows came down. “I am sorry if I frighten you.” “It-it isn’t you.” She pressed her hands into her lap to steady their trembling. “So often I am lost in thought, not anticipating anyone talking. Then, when you speak with your deep voice … it startles me. Please don’t apologize.” “You are thinking of your family.” The words were a statement, not a question. “Yes.” “You will think of them often. I will try to give warning when I am about to blurt out loudness.”
― Kim Vogel Sawyer, Waiting for Summer's Return