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Authors: Lurlene McDaniel

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BOOK: Lifted Up by Angels
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Charity handed the basket to Leah, gathered the corners of her apron to make a bowl, and tossed a handful of green beans into it. “I have a favor to ask of you, Leah.”

“Sure. Just name it.”

“I want you to help me change my appearance for the campout.”

“Like how?”

“I want to dress English for that night.”

Warning bells went off in Leah’s head. “Why can’t the other Amish girls help you?”

“I could ask some of them, but I don’t want to. I want you to help me. You are real English. They are not.”

“I’ve seen some of them dressed up, and they look pretty real to me.” It wasn’t that Leah didn’t want to help Charity—she did. It was that she didn’t want to get into any more hot water with Mr. Longacre. She was afraid he might forbid Charity and Ethan to see her anymore. Leah knew that would make her miserable.

“Also,” Charity continued, “I cannot buy any different clothes. I will have to borrow them. And I have seen how many beautiful clothes
you have. I was hoping you would let me borrow some for that night. Because it means so much to me to look pretty.”

Leah felt boxed in. But she knew she wouldn’t refuse Charity. “Sure. If that’s what you want.”

Charity’s face broke into a bright smile. “Oh, Leah, thank you. I knew you would help me. You are a true friend.”

Leah hoped she was doing the right thing. “What if your parents find out?”

“Who would tell them?”

Leah could think of several who might let it slip—not to hurt Charity, but to hurt Leah. Still, she’d already said she would help. “Have Ethan bring you by my place this weekend. We can go through my closet and try on some stuff. See what you like. And what looks good on you.”

“Yes. Yes,” Charity said. “And makeup too.”

Leah took a deep breath. “Sure. And makeup too.”

T
WELVE

O
n Saturday, Ethan brought Charity over to Leah’s apartment. When Ethan had left to do errands, Leah and Charity sorted through Leah’s closet. “I left most of my stuff back home,” Leah said, tossing pieces of clothing onto the bed. “And with working every day, shopping hasn’t been high on my priority list.”

Charity only stared wide-eyed at the heaps of tops, shorts, skirts and slacks.

“Oh, this is cute,” Leah said, holding up a colorful striped T-shirt and matching shorts. “Try it on.”

“I do not think I would feel comfortable in shorts,” Charity said.

“What am I saying? Of course you wouldn’t. How about this?” Leah held up a pair of white jeans.

“I don’t know.” Charity fingered the material.

“Try them on.”

Charity slipped into the bathroom to change.

“You look great,” Leah said when her friend emerged.

“They are tight.”

“But you have a cute figure. They look good on you.”

Charity viewed her backside in the full-length mirror hanging on the bedroom door. “This is not the way I wish for everyone to see my bottom.”

Leah giggled. “All right. We’ll try something else.”

Eventually Charity settled on a long, colorful peasant skirt and a cotton top. Leah even owned a pair of sandals that matched the outfit and fit Charity. “This is perfect,” Charity said after spinning in front of the mirror.

Leah leaned back on her elbows on the bed. “You look terrific.”

Charity’s eyes sparkled. “I did not want to
wear plain jeans like so many of the other girls will wear. I want to look different. Special.”

Leah jumped up. “Time for hair and makeup.”

Leah sat Charity on a chair, took down her thick hair from the bun at the nape of her neck and brushed it out. “How about a French braid?” She worked quickly, then tied the end with a red ribbon. Next she artfully applied blush, powder, mascara and pink lip gloss to Charity’s smooth skin.

“What do you think?” Leah stepped back and let Charity see herself.

Charity stared at her image. “I can hardly believe it’s me.”

“It’s you, all right.”

“My friends won’t know me.”

“I thought that was the point.”

Charity turned to look at Leah. “Will you help me dress on the night of the fair?”

“Sure. Now it’s time for you to help me,” Leah said. “I don’t have a sleeping bag. And I don’t know what’s expected of me on this campout.”

“Ethan and I will bring you a sleeping bag. We own several. As for the party, here’s what I
know about it. After the fair, we will all ride over to the Yoder farm and build a campfire. Everyone will bring food to cook and share. The sleeping bags are for those who wish to sleep. But few sleep. Most stay up all night.”

“What should I cook?”

“I will bring enough for both of us. My sister Sarah has told me that mostly everyone eats, talks, visits. Some will bring radios, so we will dance. In the morning, we will remake the fire and eat again. It will be wonderful fun. You will see.”

Leah had attended many sleepovers before, but never a coed one. She thought it ironic that her first all-nighter with guys and girls together would be with the Amish. “You know,” she said, “except for you and Ethan, I don’t have any friends in your group.”

Charity tapped her finger against her chin. “I did not think of that.” She flashed Leah an innocent smile. “But once they get to know you, they will like you as much as I do.”

Leah didn’t want to burst her friend’s bubble, but she didn’t have any of the confidence Charity did. Charity was too caught up in her own happiness to think about Martha. Leah wasn’t.
Leah had no illusions that the Amish girls would welcome her with open arms. None at all.

Leah was amazed by the number of tourists who began to pour into town for the July Fourth holiday. They came to Amish Acres, a hundred-year-old Amish homestead where the Amish lifestyle was perfectly preserved. Demonstrations of spinning, weaving and quilting took place daily. There was a large restaurant specializing in simple but abundant Amish cooking, and a gift shop filled with Amish wares that attracted carloads of sightseers. Charity’s oma had several quilts on display in the shop, as well as jars of jelly and pumpkin butter. A unique round, wooden, barnlike theater on the Acres showcased plays several days a week.

The bed-and-breakfast was full, and Leah and Kathy both worked long hours. They were changing beds together one morning when Leah asked, “Is it always like this on holidays?”

“Pretty much,” Kathy said. “I’m glad I’m leaving for camp next week.”

Leah realized she was going to miss Kathy. Not only because she worked hard, but because Kathy was friendly and talkative. They didn’t socialize outside work, but that was because Kathy had a steady boyfriend and Leah spent whatever time she could with Ethan. “How can you go off and leave me?” Leah wailed.

“Mrs. Stoltz will hire someone else, or she already has, I guess. She knew my schedule.” Kathy grinned. “And don’t forget, you
wanted
to spend the summer here.”

“I hadn’t expected to be tripping over bodies, though. Tourists are clogging the streets.”

“Tourists are a fact of life.”

“The Amish don’t like them very much. Not that I blame them. Tourists are always in their face, trying to take their pictures when they know the Amish don’t like it. Mr. Longacre posted a No Trespassing sign on his property because a carload of tourists drove up to his house one afternoon just to look the place over. They acted insulted when he didn’t invite them inside. Can you imagine people being so inconsiderate and insensitive?”

Kathy fluffed two pillows and tossed one to Leah. “Don’t feel too sorry for the Amish,” she said. “Sure they hate the commotion tourists
cause, but they like the extra income they bring in. They tolerate the tourists because it’s money in their pockets.”

Leah thought Kathy’s assessment harsh. She’d seen the large produce stand on the side of the highway, at the edge of the Longacre property, that the Amish community had built. There the abundance of produce, fruit, eggs, jellies, breads and other goods from surrounding Amish farms was sold. The stand was almost overwhelmed with customers. Rebekah was part of the group of younger kids and teenagers who helped out there. “There’s nothing wrong with taking advantage of a bad situation,” Leah said defensively.

Kathy shrugged. “The one thing the Amish really have to worry about with so many tourists around is getting run over. Those buggies are so slow, and tourists are always plowing into them.”

“Really?” Leah herself had gotten stuck in traffic behind a poky Amish buggy, and she remembered Simeon on his skates.

“It happens all the time. Horses and buggies are no match for cars. Someone’s always getting maimed. Or worse.”

Leah grimaced. “I can see why they hate tourist season.”

“One good thing about being Amish, though, is that they take care of their own. Whenever a disaster happens, the whole clan rallies to help out. Farmwork gets done, animals get taken care of—I do admire them for that.” Kathy shook out fresh towels for the bathroom. “But for the most part, I think the Amish are old-fashioned and stubborn. What’s the difference between riding in a car and driving one yourself?”

Leah had often thought the same thing, but she didn’t want to admit it to Kathy. “Look at the time,” she said suddenly. “I told Mrs. Stoltz I’d go buy fresh salad makings for the lunch crowd. I’d better get it done.”

Leah drove directly to the Amish produce stand. When she pulled up, Rebekah came running over. “Leah, I’ve sold six dozen eggs today,” the little girl said with a big grin. Her front tooth was partially grown in, making her look especially cute.

“Good for you!”

“Are you going to the fair tomorrow night to see the fireworks?” Rebekah asked.

“Yes. Are you going?” Leah thought it best not to mention that she was going with Ethan and Charity.

“Mama and Papa are taking me. Maybe we’ll see you.”

Leah wondered what would happen if Charity’s parents ran into them. Especially with Charity dressed English. “Maybe.” Leah tugged playfully on one of Rebekah’s braids. “How’s my chicken doing?”

“She’s getting very big. I think she will lay many eggs.”

“I sure hope so. I don’t want a lazy chicken. Is Charity at the house?” Leah asked.

“She’s working in the apple orchard with Mama and Oma today. But you can go visit her if you want.”

Leah bought the produce she needed and put it in her car. She wanted to talk about the next night’s plans and decided to take a chance on going up to the house, hoping Mr. Longacre wouldn’t spot her. In the distance she saw Ethan working in a field of corn and started walking toward him. On foot, she figured, she’d be less noticeable than in her car.

When he saw her coming, he came over to
the fence to meet her. “Leah! I have been thinking about you.”

His admission pleased her. “Same here,” she said. “The corn looks like it’s growing. When I first came, it was barely out of the ground.”

“There is a saying that it will be a good harvest if the corn is knee-high by July Fourth.” Ethan mopped his forehead with a handkerchief.

“It looks fine to me.”

“You
look fine to
me.”

“Glad you noticed.”

“I always notice you, Leah.”

Her heartbeat quickened. “How do you want to handle going to the fair tomorrow night? Should I drive?”

“My family will leave for the fair after lunch. Oma and Opa will also be going. No one will be at home. Come to the house before suppertime.”

“What if they run into us at the fair?”

“The fair is very large, and hundreds of people will be there. It is unlikely.”

“I just don’t want them to think I’m a bad influence on Charity.”

Ethan took her hand. “Charity has made this choice. She would do it with or without you.”

“If you say so.” Still, Leah didn’t feel totally absolved. What they were doing was sneaky.

Ethan lifted her chin. “We will have a very good time tomorrow night. You will see. All will be well.”

Leah wanted to believe him because it was so important. He wanted his friends to accept her. She wanted it too. But Jonah had essentially told her that English and Amish didn’t mix. And everything she’d seen so far this summer—the tourists, their loud voices, their inconsiderate actions—told her that was the truth. Leah was English. Ethan, his family and his friends were not. She tried hard to be respectful and tolerant of their Amish customs. But nothing could change the reality of their differences. Nothing.

BOOK: Lifted Up by Angels
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