The Amish Teacher's Dilemma and Healing Their Amish Hearts by Patricia Davids (all ebook reader .txt) 📕

other playground equipment. It wasn’t difficult. Just a few announcements made at church and some reminders sent home with the children. The bishop had agreed to let her borrow the benches and tables used by the congregation and the members of the Gmay provided the labor to set them up. She just hoped it was a success.

“It’s a beautiful day for the social.” Hannah Schwartz handed a roll of masking tape to Becca.

She glanced at the azure sky, grateful they wouldn’t be rained out. “Ja, we couldn’t ask for more.”

She pulled off a piece of tape and spread it across the corner of the plastic tablecloth to hold it down so the wind wouldn’t blow it off. Standing in the schoolyard, she gazed at the other folding tables and chairs they had set up earlier that morning. It was Saturday afternoon and they were almost ready to begin. With the sun shining, they were sure to have a good turnout. But she couldn’t help feeling a bit melancholy. Even if they earned enough funds for the playground equipment today, she’d never get to see it. With just two weeks of school left, she’d soon be cleaning out the classroom and packing her things for her trip back home to Ohio. Hopefully, she’d have a glowing letter of recommendation in her purse. She must have faith that Gott had her best interests at heart and would guide her through life.

Deciding not to wallow in self-pity, she turned and picked up a stack of bread baskets. They also belonged to the Gmay. Since they held so many social events, the investment was well worth it.

Abby, Aunt Naomi, Sarah Yoder and Linda Hostetler were setting out vases of tulips and daffodils picked from their own yards as centerpieces for each table. Bishop Yoder and Darrin Albrecht were unloading a propane barbecue off the back of a wagon. Their teenaged sons helped lift the heavy weight. Since bidding was usually reserved for the adults and older teenagers, each familye had been instructed to bring side dishes and desserts to feed their children. More people were arriving, hurrying to lend a hand as they prepared for the fun occasion.

“How does the box table look?”

Becca turned and found Lizzie and Eli Stoltzfus standing behind her. The couple was newly married and Lizzie was just far enough along in her first pregnancy that she was glowing with happiness.

Eli pointed to the table they’d set up for displaying the boxed suppers. The women and some of the girls of the Gmay had each decorated a cardboard box with newspaper and tulips and filled it with a dinner for two. Except for the size of each box, they looked almost identical. Later, the men would bid on the boxes in anticipation of eating a meal with one of their womenfolk. Generally the boxes were kept anonymous, so the men wouldn’t know whose they were bidding on. But sometimes, people dropped hints in order to rig the bidding so the single couples could eat together. At least, that was their hope.

For just a moment, Becca wished Jesse might buy her box. But she pushed that thought aside. His heart belonged to a dead woman and that was that.

A white cloth had been spread across the box table and Lizzie had pinned yellow and red tulips and daffodils along the edge to give it a special flair. They had already set the boxed dinners strategically on the table, to catch the eyes of the male bidders. Becca could see her own box sitting toward the back, decorated with sheets of newspaper and two red tulips affixed on top.

“Ach, the table looks beautiful!” Becca exclaimed.

“How about if we have the bidding on the boxes first? Then I can fire up the grill to cook for the kinder and other people who won’t be bidding on a box.” Bishop Yoder spoke from nearby.

“That sounds great. I’ll leave that to you,” Becca said.

Though she’d never seen him in action, she’d been told the bishop was a good auctioneer. And she was happy to coordinate everything and let him handle the business end of the occasion.

At that moment, Jesse and Sam’s buggy pulled into the yard. Becca’s senses went on high alert. She returned Sam’s energetic wave but forced herself not to run over to greet them. She didn’t want to look too forward. Not with almost everyone in the Gmay watching.

Children raced past and adults laughed together as everyone arrived in time for the bidding. Becca kept herself busy laying out stacks of paper plates, cups and napkins. She had no idea who would bid on her basket and hoped they liked fried chicken.

“Everyone! Gather round and we’ll have a blessing on the food. Then, we’ll start the bidding.” Standing on a raised wooden platform, the bishop waved his arms and spoke in a booming voice to get everyone’s attention.

The people stepped forward in anticipation. Some of the teenaged boys eyed the decorated boxes, bending their heads together and pointing as they speculated on who had made them. Glancing up, Becca saw Abby chatting with Jesse as she bounced little Chrissie on her hip.

Hmm. Abby wouldn’t tell him which box belonged to her, would she? Both Abby and Aunt Naomi had been in the kitchen when Becca had packed and decorated her box, so they definitely knew which one was hers.

They bowed their heads and blessed the food. Then, the bishop called to the crowd.

“And we have our first box to bid on,” he said.

Jeremiah Beiler picked up a rather plain cardboard box decorated with a single red-and-yellow parrot tulip. As he lifted the box for everyone to inspect, he sniffed the lid.

“Hmm, something smells good inside. Some meat loaf and apple pie, would be my guess,” he said.

Dawdi Zeke bumped Dale Yoder with his shoulder and waggled his bushy gray eyebrows at the boy. “You should bid on it, sohn. It might belong to that pretty little Lenore you’re so keen on.”

The crowd