Chapter 1

Chapter 8

The interesting kids’ names were Faith, Grace, Hope, and Sunday.

“Are you guys Christians?” I asked.

The oldest girl, Faith, answered. “Yes, our family loves Jesus. Grace, Sunday, and I were all baptized last year. Hope was not, because she is too little and does not understand. She thinks it is just swimming.”

“I bath-tized my baby doll,” Hope said. She held up a cute little doll with black skin.

“So,” I asked, “have you always lived in Montana?” Judging from the clothing they were wearing, and the fact that they all talked with funny English accents, I suspected they were from somewhere else.

Sunday — the boy — answered. “Our home is in Kenya, Africa. We have lived here in Montana for only sixteen months. Mr. Flip brought us to the United States so I can receive medical treatments.”

“Oh. That sounds good.” I wanted to ask him what kind of medical treatments, but I didn’t want to be too nosy. Plus, all of a sudden I got distracted by the shoes Sunday was wearing.

“Are those Riley Mae shoes?” I pointed to the bright orange running shoes that were practically glowing on Sunday’s feet.

The two younger sisters giggled. Grace spoke up. “We told him they are for girls. He does not care about that.” Then they giggled louder, jumped up and down, and pointed at his feet.

That’s when I noticed they were all wearing Riley Mae shoes. Each girl wore a different pair, and they looked really cute in them.

“Orange is my favorite color,” Sunday said. “Why should girls get the shoes with all the best colors? Girls do not own the color orange.”

Grace and Hope began chasing each other around in a circle, with Sunday in the middle. He put his hands to his mouth, and his eyes shifted from side-to-side.

“That is enough!” Big sister Faith grabbed both girls by the arms and led them back toward their house. Sunday looked relieved.

“Did you not bring any boys with you? I would like to play with someone who does not giggle so much.”

“Umm, I do have a brother. He’s eight. I hope he gets to come here to visit soon. How old are you?” Sunday seemed small, but smart, so I was stumped.

“I am ten. And what about you, Miss Riley Mae?”

“Twelve.”

“Same as Faith. She acts like she is my mother sometimes, because she is older. But I forgive her, because I think that God has made her bossy for a reason.”

That made me giggle. “Ha! I think I’ll tell my brother that one.”

“Oh. Does that mean you are bossy too?”

I shrugged. “A little.”

“I think that your brother and I will be good friends then.”