In a sprawling English household, seven lively children navigate the delicate balance between youthful chaos and emerging conscience. When illness keeps their parents away, the eldest Mary, nicknamed "Li" for her lightning-quick mischief, suddenly finds herself responsible for her brothers and sisters. A mysterious Bible verse, "One thing thou lackest", lodges in her mind and won't let go, sparking a spiritual crisis that collides hilariously with the demands of keeping seven children out of trouble. Runaway traps, a lost little brother, and a serious accident test whether Li's new-found faith can survive real crisis. Amy Le Feuvre writes with disarming warmth: her children feel genuinely alive, bickering and scheming with the inventiveness of the truly bored, yet capable of surprising tenderness. The book understands that becoming good is not a single dramatic conversion but a daily struggle with small temptations, and that grace, when it comes, arrives not as a thunderbolt but as quiet encouragement to keep trying. Over a century later, it endures because it captures something true about the messy, tender work of growing up, both in faith and in life.
