A Hidden Truth by Judith Miller

beauty?”
    â€œNein. But I believe the world would be a better place if we could love and accept one another. Don’t you agree?”
    Dovie placed the photograph on the small bedside table. “I do, but I think you would find the practice much more difficult to apply outside of the colonies.”
    I shrugged. “I have never been anywhere else, but you may be right. Sometimes it’s hard to love others, even here in the colonies.” She chuckled. “I try my best, but sometimes I don’t do so gut.” She snapped open a sheet and tucked it around the mattress. “My patience has been sorely tried since our new shepherd recently arrived.”
    Dovie caught the corner of the pale blue quilt and spread it into place. “What’s wrong with the shepherd?”
    â€œI had hoped he would come to us with experience and be gut help. Instead, he knows nothing of sheep or their care and must be taught everything.”
    â€œAt least he will learn the way your father prefers the work done. I remember my father talking about a man who came to work for his company, and this man wanted to do things the way he’d learned in his old job. Father said it was harder to change that man’s old ways than to start with a new worker.”
    There was certainly truth in what Dovie had said. Perhaps I shouldn’t be so disappointed over Anton’s lack of ability. Besides, it had permitted me more time in the barns. “Do you like animals and being outdoors?” I plopped down on the bed.
    â€œI’ve never had a pet, but one of my friends had a dog that I liked very much. As for the outdoors, I enjoy growing flowers, and I always helped my mother with the small vegetable garden she planted in our backyard each year.” Dovie touched her fingers to the tiny stitches that formed a tulip pattern on the blue coverlet. “This coverlet is beautiful. The stitches so tiny and perfect. Did you make it?”
    I shivered and shook my head. “Nein. My sewing and cooking skills are very poor. Instead, I enjoy working with the sheep and being outdoors as much as possible.” I shrugged my shoulders. “A big disappointment to my Mutter but a great help to my Vater. And right now, he is the one who needs the most help.”
    A bell rang in the distance, and I jumped up from the bed. “That is the bell that lets us know we should prepare for supper. You will soon learn about the bells. They help us know when to depart for work, when to return for the noonday meal, when to go back to work, when to go to meeting—when to go everyplace we need to go.” I took her hand. “The men and women eat at separate tables, so you should sit beside me.” I noted the flicker of fear in her eyes and squeezed her hand. “You will be fine. Just do what I do.”
    Dovie forced a smile, but the fear remained in her eyes.
    I preceded her down the steps and into the kitchen. “Do you need our help, Mutter?”
    In spite of the freezing wind that whistled through the trees, perspiration dotted my mother’s forehead. She wrapped her apron around the handle of a kettle and moved it to the worktable. “Not today. Dovie is our guest. You take her to the dining room and explain our customs.”
    Dovie inched forward. “I am happy to help, Cousin Louise.”
    Worry creased my mother’s forehead. She took pride in serving meals on time. To stop and visit or give directions to a novice in her kitchen would cause undesired delay. Reaching for a ladle, she spooned a thick stew into one of the large tureens. “Thank you, Dovie, but not this evening. Perhaps tomorrow. You go into the dining room with Karlina.”
    If my mother’s refusal pained Dovie, she kept it well hidden and followed me into the other room, where we stood and waited until everyone had entered. The men stood at their tables, the women and children at theirs. Prayers were offered before