Free Through the Deep Waters by Kim Vogel Sawyer Page B

of a needle. Ruthie had seen a camel once—a big, lumbering beast—in a circus. The sight had brought the reality of the scripture to life. Dinah’s seeming disdain of speaking to God in prayer could very well represent the biblical reference.
    Ruthie nibbled her thumbnail, suddenly worried. Could she live with someone who was snobbish? Bashfulness could be overcome. Tiredness wouldfade. Time would bring familiarity. But she knew no cure for snobbishness. The thought of being treated with indifference every day for weeks on end did not sit well. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine enjoying leisurely activities while someone else performed the rudimentary tasks in her home. Despite her active imagination, the pictures refused to form.
    On the tail of worry came another unpleasant emotion: jealousy. Papa worked so hard, but his small monthly stipend, lovingly offered by their congregation, didn’t allow for extravagance of any kind. Now that Ruthie lived in the Clifton Hotel, Mama had no help with cleaning or cooking or sewing. Somehow it didn’t seem fair that her kind, loving parents had to labor while Dinah’s parents apparently paid others to labor for them. Jealousy was wrong. A verse in Proverbs said envy was the rottenness of one’s bones. Ruthie didn’t want her bones to rot, but at that moment she would have given almost anything to trade places with Dinah’s family for one day and let her family enjoy a little luxury and leisure.
    Approaching footsteps pulled Ruthie from her reverie. She looked up as Dinah entered the room with two saucers of oozing cherry pie slices balanced on one arm, the way the servers carried several plates at once, and a glass of milk in her other hand. Dinah dipped her knees to set her milk on the little table without upsetting the saucers. Ruthie got a glimpse of the slices of pie. One was significantly larger than the other. Someone must have taken a sliver from one of the pieces rather than eating an entire slice. Dinah lifted the saucer bearing the larger slice first, and Ruthie expected her to place it next to her glass of milk. But instead she held it out to Ruthie. Ruthie blinked twice, startled. Wouldn’t a wealthy person keep the best for herself?
    The jealous feeling whisked away as guilt swept in. She’d been thinking ill of Dinah, and she was wrong to do so. Papa and Mama would be mortified if they knew. Forgive me, Lord, for my uncharitable thoughts . She shook her head. “No, you take that one.”
    Dinah’s brow crinkled. The same strange combination of desire and defeat danced across her expression. She opened her mouth to speak, but then without a word she plopped the saucer containing the larger slice on top of thecrumb-laden plate in Ruthie’s lap. She returned to her chair, lifted her fork, and began to eat the pie. But no enjoyment showed on her face.
    Ruthie took up a bite as well, but she couldn’t find pleasure in the juicy cherries or flaky crust. Somehow she had to make amends for the ugly thoughts she’d entertained. Even if she was right—even if Dinah was snobbish—it didn’t give Ruthie the right to disparage her whether inwardly or openly. What could she do to ease her conscience? She gasped.
    Dinah gasped, too, nearly dropping her fork.
    Ruthie reached across the little table to touch Dinah’s elbow. “Tomorrow is Sunday. Mr. Irwin allows us an hour’s break midmorning. Papa changed the time of worship at the chapel where he serves as minister to accommodate the employees here at the Clifton. Would you go to worship with me? I want to introduce you to Mama and Papa, little Dinah, and the boys.” She almost forgot to breathe she was so eager for Dinah’s acceptance.
    A scowl tensed Dinah’s face. “Why?”
    Ruthie drew back. “Why … what?”
    “Why do you want me to meet your family?”
    Ruthie tittered. She couldn’t confess she was trying to make up for thinking derogatory thoughts about her roommate. “Because we’re