Free The Bridge of Peace by Cindy Woodsmall

stinking mad at her right now that I’m afraid to go home. Just before I came here, Ivan said she plans on sending him to the handicap school.” Grey smacked the metal frame of the door with the palm of his hand. “As the head of our home, I have final say about where he goes, but why would she tell him that? Is he not perfect enough for her? Does she want to hide him from our district?” Even though Ivan didn’t understand much English and was at the far end of the building, Grey had whispered his words. “The closest school of that kind is nearly two hours away. We’d have to move, and I’d have to find a new job. If I thought he needed it, I’d do it. Is she seeing him wrong, or am I?”
    The sound of wooden blocks tumbling made both Ephraim and Grey look at Ivan. He stood in the middle of strewn blocks, kicking them.
    “I know he’s a little immature, but—”
    “Grey,” Ephraim interrupted, “if we sent every immature first grader to the handicap school, a lot of us would’ve gone there. Including me.”

    “He’s smart. I know he is.”
    “He seems bright to me.”
    “Then why would his own mother want to send him there?”
    “Don’t know. He’s suppose to start school next year, right?”
    “Ya.”
    “If I were you, I’d refuse to argue about it. You need an outside opinion, and I’d bet Lena would be the best help. I could be biased, since she’s my cousin, but she’s really good at what she does—understanding and helping her scholars. If she spent an afternoon testing him, like she does her first-grade students right before they start school, she could tell you how close he is to lining up with the other children his age. And she could probably let you know how much of a handicap he has because of his missing arm.”
    “I hadn’t thought of that. She’d be honest too. She can always be trusted for that, but I don’t know if Elsie will hear her.”
    Ephraim placed his hand on Grey’s shoulder. “I find it hard to believe, but you still care what your wife thinks.”
    He gave a nod before he turned to study the fields, willing wisdom and direction to come to him. “The one thing I’ve learned about being married is that how I feel changes nothing. Ever.”
    “Whatever you do will be tough, but maybe what love you two do have is tougher.”
    Ephraim’s words butted against the constant negative whispers inside Grey—the ones that spoke to him of defeat over and over again.
    Love never fails .
    He caught a glimpse of understanding, as if seeing inside an unfamiliar room for a brief moment. Love had a hope all its own.
    “Daed?” Ivan tugged at Grey’s pant leg. “Heem geh?”
    Feeling tears sting his eyes, Grey lifted his son and held him close. “ Ya, loss uns Heemet geh .” He looked to Ephraim. “It’s time I go on home now.”

Eight
    In her jeans and with her short crop of hair down, Cara continued reading the Sunday paper, enjoying the slower pace of between Sundays. Lori sat on a kitchen stool beside her, giggling over the comics. Cara hadn’t seen Ada or Deborah yet this morning, although she knew they were up. A fresh pot of coffee and a small fire in the potbelly stove had greeted her and Lori when they’d entered the kitchen about thirty minutes ago.
    Deborah walked into the kitchen looking every bit as Amish as she did on the other six days of the week, except she had on a white organdy apron that didn’t cover the top half of her dress. Her hair was fixed just so. She made living Amish look easy. “ Guder Marye .” Deborah bid a good morning before grabbing the poker. She opened the lid to the potbelly stove and stirred the embers. “We don’t want this burning for long, but we needed a little something to remove the nip in the air. I take it you’re not going to Dry Lake with us for services this morning?”
    Cara bit her tongue and shook her head. It was an off day, for Pete’s sake. Besides, she had yard work to do. While shopping at yard sales