December 19,1777, Friday
I woke to sleet hitting the window and another sound I'd
not heard before.
A drumbeat.
Papa came in from milking and said, "The soldiers are coming."
...Finally, through the gray, we saw them. Three officers on horseback led. We ran outside to cheer, but the men were quiet and
thin. The sight of them took my breath away.
"They have no shoes," Elisabeth whispered.
We watched for several minutes as they passed by. We were
unable to speak.
Their footprints left blood in the snow.
As I write this upstairs, my candle low and our room cold, I
think I shall never again complain.
