Free Promise to Cherish by Elizabeth Byler Younts Page B

be away from the church and our ways. Now that Norman’s home from the CPS he has talked some about the life in the camps. The world is a dangerous place. Resist its temporal whims and remember what you’ve learned in church. The world will toss you about like a pebble on the beach. You’re not an easily tempted boy anymore, you’re a man now. Put those old things behind you and remember that you are Amish. The world will not understand you and God’s ways.
In His Holy Name,
Dat
    Eli sat alone in his room and relished a few moments in the quiet. His dat ’s letter had given him some things to think about. It was the only letter he’d gotten from his dat. His mem wrote nearly every week, though never very personal it kept him updated on the family news. Matilda wrote about twice a week with news from their district, the neighboring districts, and of all the Amish in the greater northeastern area.
    He looked at the sock he’d been darning before he read the letter. It was December now, and warm socks were a must—but he didn’t have the energy to finish it. His fingers were calloused and pinpricked from all the socks he’d darned for himself and the others in the unit. It was slow and cumbersome work, but there were fewer lady volunteers than there were through the summer, so they all had to pull their weight. He’d been gone for over a year now; though he’d followed the list he’d been given and arrived at the camp with everything required, his possessions had slowly dwindled as clothes wore out without being replaced. His towels were ragged. His hygienic needs didn’t account for much and all he had for reading was his Bible and a few magazines. He’d just run out of stationery and stamps. He didn’t know when he would get more, so he asked his mother to send some. Sometimes Matilda would put an extra stamp inher envelope for him to write her back and his instinct told him the right thing to do was to use it to write her back—though he didn’t want to.
    “You coming for some crud?” Freddy opened Eli’s door and popped his head in.
    It had taken some time to get used to the idea of calling food crud . He would never refer to his mother’s cooking that way and could imagine the stern look from his father if he ever did. The mere thought of them made him wonder what it would be like when he returned home.
    “Let me finish this sock.” Eli concentrated on the last few stitches in the toe of a too-thin sock. After a quick inspection, he tossed it in his pile and stood. “I won’t miss this at all.”
    “You’ll be darning your own socks forever—well, unless you find a wife good enough for you,” Freddy reminded.
    “ Bish du mai mem ?” Eli asked Freddy if he was his mother and gave him a spirited shove as they walked out of his room. “Besides, you’re only a year younger than me, and you’re not married either.”
    “I think Marlene Miller likes me.” He winked at Eli.
    Marlene was here with her brother while he served. She helped in the laundry room and did some odds and ends for the C.O.’s. She was a nice girl and Eli hoped that Freddy was right.
    “So, what did Matilda say in her sugar report?” Freddy asked.
    “It was from my dat .”
    “But Matilda’s still writing you, right?” Freddy asked.
    Eli nodded and sighed.
    “You’re a lucky fella. What’s the matter with you?”
    Eli’s gaze narrowed on his friend. “I told her before I left for the camp and in my first letter back that we are only friends. I have a feeling she thinks we are more than that.”
    “Well, why not? She’s cute, right? Good cook?” Freddy rubbed his belly, reminding Eli of a character in a comic strip.
    “Sure, she’s cute, but I’m just not interested in her that way.” Eli remembered how Matilda looked up at him that last Singing. He should’ve noticed the stars in her eyes and never agreed to allow her to write him, but that seemed awfully harsh.
    “Surely there’s another