Free Blessings by Kim Vogel Sawyer Page B

supper. Trina had offered to help clean up, but Beth had laughingly said Trina had done enough cleaning up this week.
    Trina propped the heels of her hands on the edge of the huge computer desk that took up an entire wall in Beth’s dining room. She was cautious not to bump any of the machines that stood in a neat line along the desktop. “What is that exactly—a GED?”
    Beth rocked back and forth in her leather chair. “It’s short for General Education Development. You didn’t attend high school, so you don’t have a diploma, which is required in order to enter college. The GED is just like having a high school diploma without going to school.”
    “How do I get it?”
    “You have to take a test to show your knowledge of the general education subjects.”
    Trina sucked in a worried breath. Would that include physics? “Can I take the test on the computer?” She peered over Beth’s shoulder at the Web site sponsored by the Kansas Board of Regents.
    “No, I’m afraid not.” Beth pointed to the screen. “You have to go to one of the testing sites. It looks like the closest one for you would be Hutchinson.”
    Trina cringed. “Hutchinson? But we hardly ever go there.”
    Beth continued tapping buttons, leaning close to the screen. “Looks like you’ll need to plan a trip. And you’ll need some sort of identification.” She scowled at Trina briefly. “Do you have a Kansas ID card or a driver’s license?”
    Trina drew back. “No. I’ve just worked here in town, so I’ve never needed an ID. And I haven’t learned to drive yet, so I don’t have a license.”
    Beth shook her head, her long, blond ponytail swishing back and forth over her shoulders. “Well, you’ll need an accepted form of identification to prove you live in Kansas, so you’d better plan to get one or the other.” She clicked a few more keys, adding, “In addition to the GED, you’ll also need to take the ACT—nearly every college requires the scores from that test, as well.”
    “Another test?” Trina yanked a chair from the dining table and flopped into it. “There are so many steps! This is going to take forever!”
    Beth swiveled again to look at Trina. Her serious expression held Trina’s attention. “Is it worth it?”
    Trina gulped.
    “Is it what you’re supposed to do?”
    Trina hung her head.
    “If so, then don’t see the steps as roadblocks but as stepping-stones to your goal.” Beth touched Trina’s arm. “Anything worth having is worth working for.”
    Tears pricked Trina’s eyes. Head still down, she said, “Do you know you’re the only person who is encouraging me instead of telling me I’m doing the wrong thing?”
    “Even Andrew?”
    Trina sighed. In the past, she and Andrew had been each other’s cheerleaders. She’d always encouraged him to pursue his dream of art despite his family’s misgivings. It hurt that he didn’t reciprocate now. “Livvy’s problems have changed his focus. He thinks I’m foolish to put aside marrying Graham and having children just to. . .” She cringed, remembering the sting of his words. “To take care of sick kittens.”
    “Aw, Trina. . .” Beth leaned back and nibbled her lower lip. “Well, it is kind of odd, isn’t it, for someone from your religious group to want to go to college?”
    Trina shrugged. “I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s thought about it, but as far as I know, I’m the only one from Sommerfeld who’s ever tried to follow through.” Wrinkling her nose, she admitted, “They’ll probably kick me out.”
    “Out of what?”
    Trina released a dramatic sigh. “Out of my family, out of the fellowship, out of town .”
    Beth started to laugh, and despite herself, Trina joined in. The laughter relieved some of her tension. Little wonder the Bible said laughter was good for the soul.
    Beth tipped her head, her expression thoughtful. “Trina, why is your sect so opposed to higher education? What does college hurt?”
    Trina