much huffing and puffing, Miriam had managed to tug the first of the display tables out into position in front of the open doors. It had been something of a challenge. The tables were sturdy and heavy. Moving them in and out was usually a two-person job. Truly, she hadnât needed to do it. After all, she wouldnât be opening for business until the following day. But this was the first day that she felt the stand belonged to her, and she needed to prove to herself that she was perfectly able to set up and run it on her own if need be, that her
daed
âs faith in her hadnât been misplaced. What had Sarah called her? Capable. She had to be worthy of Sarahâs faith, too.
I really should have waited for Sarah,
she thought. But Miriam didnât want to wait. She wanted to get going
now
. The farm stand was her responsibility, her challenge, one she was determined to meet. She marched back inside the stand, seized the second table, gave it a quick tug to get it moving, then continued to drag it carefully toward the open doors. Too fast, and she was afraid that she might scratch the wooden floor.
Miriam felt the threshold bump against her heels. She stepped over it carefully, pulling the front legs of the table out into the yard.
Just a little farther now.
She pulled a little harder. The table shot forward, the back legs catching on the threshold. The front edge of the table slipped from Miriamâs fingers. One of the front legs came down on her foot so hard she saw stars. With a sharp cry, she yanked her foot back, hopping up and down.
âMiriam!
Miriam!
â cried a high, clear voice behind her. âAre you all right?â
Miriam stopped hopping, trying not to wince as she put her full weight on her foot and turned to face the newcomer. Standing behind her was a young woman of about sixteen. She had blond hair and blue eyes, just as Miriam did. At the moment, her eyes were wide with concern. She was breathing quickly, as if she had just run a race.
It was Leah Gingerich, Rachel Millerâs niece. She lived with Rachel and Bishop John. â
Gude mariye
, Leah,â Miriam said.
â
Gude mariye
,â Leah answered, giving the polite response. But she went on almost at once, as if she simply could not contain herself. âOh, Miriam!â she burst out. âAre you sure that youâre all right? That looked like it hurt so much!â
âIt did,â Miriam admitted, feeling her lips tug upward into a smile. Leahâs energy was infectious. âThough to tell you the truth, not so much that I didnât have time to think about how silly I must have looked, hopping up and down.â
âBut you didnât!â Leah exclaimed. âWell,â she amended, âat least not much. But Iâm pretty sure I would have cried like a
boppli
if that had happened to me.â
âMy eyes had no room for tears,â Miriam said, her smile growing larger. âThey were too busy seeing stars!â
âOuch,â Leah said sympathetically.
â
Ja
,â Miriam said. âOuch. But what can I do for you, Leah? The farm stand isnât open yet.â
âI know.â Leah nodded at once. âBut I thought perhaps you might be here. You and Jacob always opened the farm stand first thing in the morning, and I . . .â
Her voice trailed off.
Itâs the first time Iâve ever seen her at a loss for words,
Miriam thought. It wasnât that Leah chattered. But she did seem to have the habit of saving up her words and then sending them all out together in one great big rush. This, together with Leahâs petite frame, made her seem younger than she actually was. But Miriam was almost certain she remembered that Leah had recently announced her desire to be baptized. That would make her sixteen at least. Old enough for courting.
âI want to help.â
Leahâs voice jerked Miriam back to the
S. E. Zbasnik, Sabrina Zbasnik