it.”
Rachel and I exchange smiles as Mother Esther gets out of the front seat. Rachel’s never done anything like this before—protected me from consequences. I sure appreciate it.
It’s only four p.m., so we have time to do some beading before dinner. But I want to see if Mother Martha ever made it to her chore assignment. So I tell Rachel that I have an idea and will be right back. Mothers Cecilia and Rebecca sit mending socks when I burst into the sewing room. Mother is not there. I say that I need three feet of their heaviest thread for a jewelry project. As they’re getting the thread for me, a chill ripples through me. When did it become so easy for me to lie like this?
November
Six
Annie and Jacob peek through the window of the bead room and make faces at me. I suppress a giggle because I don’t want Rachel or Mother Esther to see their antics. They manage to duck down just as Mother Esther finishes looking over my creations.
“My dear,” Esther says after a few minutes, “I don’t think you need to worry about me reporting you to the Community Concerns Committee for your disobedience last week at the bead store. You’ve made some lovely pieces, and if they sell the way Rachel claims they will, I’ll consider your actions nothing more than an inconvenience, and one that ultimately will benefit the community.”
“Thank you, Mother Esther. Thank you so much!” I’m so relieved I could cry.
“But know this. If you disobey again or if your pieces don’t sell, I will still report you next week.”
“Yes, Mother,” I say, bowing my head. When I look up, I see her hobbling out the door.
Rachel grins. When Mother Esther is out of earshot, she reassures me. “You don’t have a thing to worry about. We’ve never had such a beautiful array of jewelry. If we sell half of these tomorrow, we’ll have more profit than ever before.”
“I hope you’re right,” I say.
“You hope who’s right?” Ezekiel says from the doorway.
The necklace I’m working on slides through my fingers, but I catch it before it falls to the floor. It always throws me off balance when Reverend Ezekiel shows up unexpectedly.
“Good afternoon,” Rachel and I both say at the same time.
“I was just telling Eva that this was some of the nicest jewelry we’ve ever made,” Rachel said.
He points to a pair of earrings. “Who made these?” he asks.
“Eva did,” Rachel says.
He points to a necklace. “Eva,” Rachel says. He points to a bracelet. “Eva again,” Rachel says. He picks up another pair of earrings. “That would be Eva.” Rachel laughs. “She’s so good, I’m beginning to get a complex.”
Ezekiel nods, thinly masking how pleased he is. “So how much will you sell these for, and how much profit will that bring?” I’m not sure if he’s talking to Rachel or me. He paces back and forth in the small space, continuing to examine everything—even a few of the old plastic beaded necklaces, which he tosses to the side. He picks up the earrings and bracelet set I made this morning.
Finally Rachel answers his question. “We’re just going to have to see how much we can get for them—but I think they’ll sell for much more than any we’ve made previously.”
“They’d better,” he says. “The materials look to be far more expensive than we’ve had before. If the new style sells well, it could make all the difference this winter.”
I know his eyes are on my face, even though I’m focused on the necklace I’m making. I slowly look up to see him beaming down at me. “I’m proud of you, Eva,” he says.
“Thank you,” I say weakly.
He starts toward the door, and then as if remembering something, he turns back. “God is good!” he says.
“God is good!” we repeat.
Rachel and I exchange surprised looks. It is so rare for him to say the coveted words “I’m proud of you.” I don’t know if he’s in a sunny mood to match the beautiful weather outside, or if he really
Rachel and I exchange smiles as Mother Esther gets out of the front seat. Rachel’s never done anything like this before—protected me from consequences. I sure appreciate it.
It’s only four p.m., so we have time to do some beading before dinner. But I want to see if Mother Martha ever made it to her chore assignment. So I tell Rachel that I have an idea and will be right back. Mothers Cecilia and Rebecca sit mending socks when I burst into the sewing room. Mother is not there. I say that I need three feet of their heaviest thread for a jewelry project. As they’re getting the thread for me, a chill ripples through me. When did it become so easy for me to lie like this?
November
Six
Annie and Jacob peek through the window of the bead room and make faces at me. I suppress a giggle because I don’t want Rachel or Mother Esther to see their antics. They manage to duck down just as Mother Esther finishes looking over my creations.
“My dear,” Esther says after a few minutes, “I don’t think you need to worry about me reporting you to the Community Concerns Committee for your disobedience last week at the bead store. You’ve made some lovely pieces, and if they sell the way Rachel claims they will, I’ll consider your actions nothing more than an inconvenience, and one that ultimately will benefit the community.”
“Thank you, Mother Esther. Thank you so much!” I’m so relieved I could cry.
“But know this. If you disobey again or if your pieces don’t sell, I will still report you next week.”
“Yes, Mother,” I say, bowing my head. When I look up, I see her hobbling out the door.
Rachel grins. When Mother Esther is out of earshot, she reassures me. “You don’t have a thing to worry about. We’ve never had such a beautiful array of jewelry. If we sell half of these tomorrow, we’ll have more profit than ever before.”
“I hope you’re right,” I say.
“You hope who’s right?” Ezekiel says from the doorway.
The necklace I’m working on slides through my fingers, but I catch it before it falls to the floor. It always throws me off balance when Reverend Ezekiel shows up unexpectedly.
“Good afternoon,” Rachel and I both say at the same time.
“I was just telling Eva that this was some of the nicest jewelry we’ve ever made,” Rachel said.
He points to a pair of earrings. “Who made these?” he asks.
“Eva did,” Rachel says.
He points to a necklace. “Eva,” Rachel says. He points to a bracelet. “Eva again,” Rachel says. He picks up another pair of earrings. “That would be Eva.” Rachel laughs. “She’s so good, I’m beginning to get a complex.”
Ezekiel nods, thinly masking how pleased he is. “So how much will you sell these for, and how much profit will that bring?” I’m not sure if he’s talking to Rachel or me. He paces back and forth in the small space, continuing to examine everything—even a few of the old plastic beaded necklaces, which he tosses to the side. He picks up the earrings and bracelet set I made this morning.
Finally Rachel answers his question. “We’re just going to have to see how much we can get for them—but I think they’ll sell for much more than any we’ve made previously.”
“They’d better,” he says. “The materials look to be far more expensive than we’ve had before. If the new style sells well, it could make all the difference this winter.”
I know his eyes are on my face, even though I’m focused on the necklace I’m making. I slowly look up to see him beaming down at me. “I’m proud of you, Eva,” he says.
“Thank you,” I say weakly.
He starts toward the door, and then as if remembering something, he turns back. “God is good!” he says.
“God is good!” we repeat.
Rachel and I exchange surprised looks. It is so rare for him to say the coveted words “I’m proud of you.” I don’t know if he’s in a sunny mood to match the beautiful weather outside, or if he really
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