Free The Golden Braid by Melanie Dickerson Page B

held up the Bible text and asked her to sound out the first few words.
    â€œI already know that the first three words are ‘Pavel, an apostle’ because you told me that.” She stared at the words, sounding out each letter. “ Puh. Ah. Vuh. Eh. Ll. Pavel. I did it! I see how it works now.” Rapunzel did the same with the next two words and was able to sound them out and see how the letters made the words. Then she tried the fourth word. Sir Gerek had to help her with that one since she had already forgotten some of the letters’ sounds. Finally, she sounded it out. “ Uh. Vuh. Of. Yuh. Eh. Ss. Oo. Ss. ‘Jesus.’ I did it. ‘Pavel, an apostle of Jesus!’ ”
    â€œKeep reading.”
    With help from Sir Gerek, Rapunzel read the next word and the next. Finally, she had read the entire first sentence. “ ‘Pavel, an apostle of Jesus Christ by the command of God our Savior and of Christ Jesus our hope, To Timotheus my true son in the faith: Grace, mercy, and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord.’ ”
    â€œWhat does it mean?”
    â€œIt’s a greeting, from a letter. Pavel is greeting his friend Timotheus.”
    â€œOh. I’ve never had a letter. Is this how people greet someone in a letter, by telling their name?”
    â€œUsually they greet the person they are writing first, and then at the end they write their own name. I suppose letters were written differently in those days, with the writer introducing himself first.”
    How exciting! If she received a letter, she might actually be able to read it. Of course, who would write one to her? Her mother had never learned to read. But now that she could read, what would she read? She had no books, nothing with words written on it. She would worry about that later.
    â€œOh.” How long had she been sitting with Sir Gerek? Rapunzel jumped up, knocking over the stool. “I mustn’t be late. Mother might not let me come back.” She put the stool back where she had gotten it. “Fare well, Sir Gerek!” she called and ran out the door.

Chapter Nine
    Mother brought back some bread, some oats for the pottage, and a few other things they needed. She had also found some pregnant women who might be interested in her services.
    â€œDid you find the person you were looking for?” Rapunzel asked her. “The one who was coming back from England?”
    Mother concentrated on putting the leftover oats away. “No, he is not in Hagenheim yet. What have you been doing while I was gone, Rapunzel? I thought you were going to paint some of your pretty flowers and vines and birds on the walls today?”
    â€œI suppose I was . . . thinking of other things.” Rapunzel hated deceiving Mother, but it seemed the only way she would be able to take reading lessons.
    â€œMaking up a new song?” She patted Rapunzel’s cheek. “I don’t know how you think of them.”
    Rapunzel shrugged and smiled. “I don’t know either.”
    Together they made a plum pie and some fried pork. “Meat is as plentiful as ever in Hagenheim,” Mother said. “The butchers sell everything here—pork, goose, pheasant, chicken, and even some beef. Are you pleased we came here, Rapunzel?”
    â€œYes, of course, Mother. Are you pleased?”
    â€œNot missing your old friends in Ottelfelt, are you?”
    â€œNo.” Rapunzel sighed. “I don’t think I was ever friends with anyone the way other people are. Most of the other girls my age thought my paintings and songs were strange. They thought I was strange.”
    â€œThey were just jealous. Forget about them.”
    That was Mother’s solution to everything—to forget about it. Perhaps it was better to put out of her mind anything that bothered her, but she was more likely to brood about it, to consider how she could make it better, how she could change it, or how it might