CHAPTER THREE
Well, you’re going to be an independent young man. You eat a solid, hearty breakfast to prepare. As you dig in, Mother tsks. “Jacob, the pork sausage is hot, do not burn your little tongue.”
“Mother!”
Too late. Your brothers fall from their chairs laughing. You eat your sausage, not making a peep as it burns your tongue.
Looking over the available land, you cringe. You want to come home for breakfast sometimes. Not that you need to. But you want to.
There is an open lot within an hour’s walk of your family — close enough to pop home, far enough that your brothers won’t be on top of you.
“Ach je …” you moan, looking closer. The land is low-lying; it won’t drain well. Growing crops will be hard.
The other available lot is farther away. You probably won’t see your family very much. Still, the soil is better quality — you’d have great harvests. Better than your brothers, for sure.
Do you choose the near lot or the far one?
