Free When Strawberries Bloom by Linda Byler

day.
    She shook her head ruefully as if to clear it, then stood up straight, took a deep breath, and put her mower away. It was time to clean the flower beds, too, and trim around them, so that would be a good place to be for awhile. On her knees.

Chapter 8

    A S SPRING BEGAN TO warm toward summer, Lizzie’s concerns about Stephen were overshadowed by her interest in Emma’s future. Mam had begun fussing to Emma, wondering when Joshua would ask her to marry him, or if he had any plans of marrying her this year.
    “You’re young, Emma, but you’ve been dating well over two years, and sometimes it’s better not to be dating for too long,” she said, hurrying between the stove and refrigerator, preparing a quick supper for Dat.
    Some Amish youth weren’t ready to settle down right away, but not Emma. She had always been conscientious, aware of right from wrong. She had become a member of the church the previous year, taking instruction classes during the summer until she had been baptized in the fall.
    It was all very serious for Emma, and she did not have a hard time giving in to the instruction of the ministers. She seemed to understand about the new birth, and that the water poured on her head was the outward sign of an inward change of heart, of giving her life to God.
    Lizzie and Mandy both knew very surely, like the button on the flap of a pocket being buttoned securely, that they wanted to do exactly the same thing as Emma did. It never occurred to them that they wouldn’t be Amish their whole lives. They each had a deeply ingrained knowledge that when the time was right, they would become baptized members, the same as Emma. God was very real to Emma, and she calmly listened to Bible stories at a very young age without getting the blues like Lizzie did.
    Sometimes church made Lizzie sad. The feeling had started when Lizzie was a little girl. Some daughters sat with their fathers on the men’s side during church. Lizzie and Mandy often sat with Dat because they were both better behaved with Dat. When Dat walked into church, Lizzie would take Mandy’s hand, and the three of them would find a seat on a bench along the wall.
    Once an unfamiliar man sat down beside Lizzie, along with his two strange-looking boys. He looked a bit scary to Lizzie. His boys were wriggling around on the bench, trying to take their coats off. He didn’t help them, and Lizzie guessed he was mean to them. Lizzie moved as close to Dat as she could and put one hand under Dat’s arm. He looked down at her and smiled. Lizzie felt a bit better.
    Someone picked a song, saying the number in German. Dat found the page, and soon the room was filled with the sound of the slow German singing. Usually Lizzie enjoyed that, but for some reason, she felt like crying today. She blinked and tried to think happy thoughts, or at least something funny.
    Suddenly, the strange man reached over and pinched one of his little boys. Then he twisted the boy’s arm as he talked to him quite sternly. The little boy opened his mouth and let out a crying howl of pain and surprise.
    Dat looked over at the howling little boy, but then politely looked away. Lizzie sat and looked straight ahead, too. The boy’s father did not try to comfort him or make him feel better. He just sang loudly as his little boy wailed beside him. Lizzie had the blues. She was so afraid of that strange man, and Dat was singing as if nothing was wrong at all. She felt more and more dejected, even though she knew she was much too old to cry in church.
    Her nose started to run, so she got out her little flowered handkerchief and carefully wiped it. Even before tears formed, a sob tore at her throat. Dat looked down at Lizzie. He put his arm around her, bent low, and whispered, “What’s wrong, Lizzie?”
    With Dat’s kindness, her blues dissolved into tears, and she sobbed quietly. She hid her face in Dat’s mutsa , or suit coat, and cried. He patted her shoulder and asked her again why she