Running Around (and Such) by Linda Byler Page A

their names or their faces straight. She thought there were three sisters in the Zimmerman family and two in the Hoover family. One—no, two—with the last name of Martin had eyes as brown as she had ever seen. They had straight brown hair and skin tanned almost the same shade from their long days in the summer sun.
    “So! These are the new girls!” the Mennonite teacher said, welcoming them in a rush of color and warmth as she came into the room.
    “We heard for a while already that you were moving in,” she said. “You’re not from Lamont, where the rest of the Amish are from, right?”
    “N-no, we’re from Jefferson County,” Lizzie said.
    “Same kind of Amish? I mean, is there a difference?” the teacher inquired.
    “Yes, there is,” Lizzie said, uncertain about how to explain the distinctions between the two Amish groups.
    “Really? That’s interesting. Did you like it in …did you say Jefferson County?”
    “Oh, yes. We loved it. Well, I did. I … I … we had lots of cousins and friends there.”
    “Well, hopefully, you’ll find lots more friends here. We’re happy to have you in our school!”
    Lizzie didn’t know what to say. Mandy smiled and said, “We’re glad to be here.”
    Lizzie wasn’t sure that was quite true. She didn’t know how she’d feel until she had spent the morning in vocational class.
    “Time for the bell!” and the new teacher was off in a whirl of tiny little flowers. “Oh, I didn’t even tell you my name! Esther!” she called over her shoulder as she disappeared behind the tall white doors.
    Esther reappeared promptly, clanging and banging an old hand-held bell. At the sound, boys of all shapes and sizes charged past her into the school, dust flying and gravel spitting as they ran. They milled around the entry, hanging up straw hats, clomping their feet, and talking loudly. But as soon as they stepped into the classroom, they quieted down until every noise faded away and there was complete silence.
    As Teacher Esther read the Bible, Lizzie chewed her fingernails in her seat at the back of the room. The Mennonites did dress differently. The boys wore jeans and plaid shirts, or striped ones, and their hair was cut short like English boys’. The only thing that made them look like Mennonites was their suspenders.
    The Mennonite girls were so pretty. They combed their thick, wavy hair back and secured it with clasps, and then wove it into a heavy braid on each side of their heads. What really caught Lizzie’s eye was that they were allowed to wear rubber hair bands with brightly colored baubles on the ends, and that they had barrettes in their hair. She would love to look so fancy.
    Joe and John sat one row in front of her. The twins were decidedly good-looking. They were a bit small for their age, but they’d probably grow taller soon. Lizzie thought she would probably marry one of them and Mandy would marry the other. Of course, that left Emma out, but these boys were too young for her anyway.
    Lizzie was relieved to know there were boys here in Cameron County whom she could marry. Of course, Mam said it was not up to them. They needed to pray every evening and ask God for his will, not their own. That was all very good and right, Lizzie was sure, but it was hard to know exactly what that meant. You couldn’t help it if you thought some boys were nice-looking and others weren’t.
    The way Mam sometimes made it sound, all the handsome boys weren’t good husbands—just the homely ones. It caused Lizzie to fall into a great state of sadness most times when Mam gave them that lecture.
    “You don’t go by looks,” she would say, shaking her forefinger at them. “God has a special person for each one of you, so it’s very important you don’t go by his looks.”
    Well, Lizzie was too young to take this husband matter very seriously, but she certainly hoped one of these twins would be God’s will, as Mam put it. She couldn’t wait to talk to Mandy after