Free Hidden Mercies by Serena B. Miller

an Amish dress and prayer Kapp .
    “I see you set breakfast out for Levi.” She sank down onto the wicker chair beside the swing. “You’ll spoil the boy. Grace had just about gotten him trained to fix it for himself.”
    “I’m sure she needs her sleep,” he said.
    “It hasn’t been an easy pregnancy.” Elizabeth took a sip of coffee and made a face. “Is this some kind of special Marine coffee?”
    “Is it too strong?”
    “Too strong?” She opened her eyes wide and batted them a couple times. “Maybe a tad. I’m definitely awake now!”
    He made a stab at conversation. “What are your plans for the day?”
    “Plans?” Elizabeth contemplated. “Well . . . this morning I’m going to paint the upstairs bedroom and tear down that derelict corncrib out back. Then I think I’ll do a few calisthenics and have lunch. After lunch, I plan to climb Mt. Everest, compete in a bathing beauty pageant, and run for Congress. What are your plans?”
    Elizabeth was so deadpan as she said this, at first he’d thought that she was experiencing a little dementia, but eventually realized that her off-the-wall comments were part of Elizabeth’s supersharp intellect.
    “What am I doing?” He tried to answer along the same vein. “I thought I’d see if I could write another War and Peace this afternoon.”
    Elizabeth gave this comment consideration. “Your delivery is getting better, but you could stand to be more imaginative.”
    “Writing War and Peace isn’t a good choice?”
    “Too predictable and no real humor. Me entering a bathing beauty contest—now, that’s funny.”
    “You’re entering a bathing beauty contest?” Levi came out onto the porch with a plate of scrambled eggs in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. He sounded confused. “What is a bathing beauty contest and why would you want to enter it?”
    “For the scholarship, of course.” She winked at Tom. “And world peace.”
    Levi shook his head and started shoveling food into his mouth. “I don’t understand half of what you say, Elizabeth.”
    “I’m yanking your chain, Levi,” Elizabeth said. “My real plans for the day are to finish the crossword puzzle I started last night, take a walk, nap, write a letter, take another nap, and finish a good book I started yesterday. Age has its rewards. What about you, Tom?”
    “Now that my fever is gone, I thought I might walk to Amy’s little store. I think I can manage a quarter mile, and if I remember right, I think there was some homemade fudge.”
    “That’s one of Maddy’s contributions,” Elizabeth said. “Amy will probably try to sell you one of her poems, too.”
    “Amy writes poetry?”
    “Reams of it. If you make a fuss over it, she’ll be your BFF.”
    “BFF?”
    “Best Friend Forever,” Elizabeth said. “You need to keep up, Tom.”
    He thought this over. “I guess I could use a friend.”
    “Most of us can,” Elizabeth agreed. “I think walking down to Amy’s store would do you some good. She’ll love the company, and whatever you buy will provide a small blessing to that family’s bank account.”
    “They seemed to have quite a variety of signs out front.”
    “You can say that again. It started out with a few of Levi’s baskets. Then Claire’s nieces came to live with her, and it kind of mushroomed from there.”
    Levi, who had steadily been plowing his way through his plate of food, spoke up. “Amy wanted a way to sell her little cards, so I put a sign up for her. We didn’t think there would be many people stopping, but tourists have caught on to the fact that buying some of the things they see advertised at private homes will give them a glimpse of Amish life they wouldn’t get otherwise.”
    Elizabeth nodded. “That’s true. Then, once they saw that people would stop for Amy’s greeting cards, the children coaxed Levi into installing some shelves in a corner of the front room. Then they all got into act. That cluster of handmade signs