T he small dark room is filled with a smell of baking bread and herbs.
It is warm inside and when his eyes adjust to the dim light the man — “call me Grand-Pere ” he tells Neemias — takes his hand and shakes it vigorously. The woman disappears returning a few minutes later with three children and bids them to shake hands.
Neemias squints down. The children — two little boys and a girl — seem so small and he is afraid to shake hands with them lest his own grip hurt them. He gently holds out his hand to each in turn and tries to match each name to a feature. Marie is the girl that’s easy. Paul has a nose covered in freckles. And Roland stands still but he seems to quiver with pent-up energy. How old are they? he wonders. He was always tall and broad for his age maybe these children are small? He thinks that Roland is perhaps 11 Paul may be nine or ten and Marie younger.
Neemias turns to the old man and holds out his silver coin. “I seek shelter from the storm ” he says.
