The Long Walk Home
Twelve-year-old Rebekah grieves her parents’ stiffness and silence. They struggle with the language; they worry about their last name. They hurry home, afraid of being so different.
They pass the forbidden tea room with its fancy cakes, the dress shop with flowing silks, the office that refused to hire her father, a window filled with mirrors. In the glass, she sees her parents laughing, holding hands. Her mother wears a jaunty blue hat. Her father sports a gold watch chain, his head held high. Rebekah smiles happily.
“Rachel, Becky,” her reflected father calls in perfect English, “Time for afternoon tea!”