Seeing Your Face Again by Jerry S. Eicher Page A

imagination, that his backwards upbringing caused him to see what wasn’t really there. He told himself that Englisha girls naturally appeared more attractive than their unadorned Amish neighbors.
    But he wasn’t able to convince himself. And then Debbie had continued to drive by. Apparently she felt comfortable with his acceptance of her presence. He’d tried to convince himself he wouldnever see her again, that she was not from his world, that he must think about an Amish girl when it came to love. But she’d haunted his dreams at night, and some days she was all he could think of while he worked the fields. And with how Mildred Schrock had used him after they both joined the young folks—how she’d turned up her nose at him after their schooldays crush on each other—he had plenty of reason to consider a girl outside the community.
    Alvin was at Bishop Beiler’s farm one afternoon when Debbie walked out of the barn. He’d stayed in his buggy for fear his tongue would stammer and stutter. He’d dared ask Bishop Beiler who she was though—after Debbie had driven out of the lane and given him the usual brief wave and quick smile. Bishop Beiler hadn’t seemed too curious about his questions, and strangely enough the bishop seemed to have friendly feelings toward the girl.
    â€œShe’s Debbie, our neighbors’ girl,” the bishop had told him. “She’s been coming over ever since she was a child. She’s gut friends with my girls.”
    So there was more to Debbie’s frequent trips past his place than touristy curiosity. Still, he knew he should never think of an Englisha girl with romantic notions. Then the unthinkable had happened. Debbie had moved into the Beiler household, and the whispers around the community were that she planned to join the faith. Her trips past his place had stopped about the same time.
    Paul Wagler was soon enamored with the charming Englisha girl. This didn’t surprise Alvin. He might have been able to get over Debbie eventually if she hadn’t asked him to wait on tables with her at Verna’s wedding. There she’d taken it upon herself to assure him that she wasn’t interested in Paul. After that talk he’d almost convinced himself that he could ask her home some Sunday evening after the hymn singing. In fact, he had promised Debbie he would do so soon.
    But in the end he couldn’t. Not with the farm situation. Heloved Debbie too much to ask her to walk with him through that shame. There would be plenty in the community who were willing to remind Debbie how great this disgrace would be—Paul Wagler being the first in line. Nee , it was best if he found his own way in this world, far from the community and his unchangeable past.

Seven

    T he Friday-night Amish youth volleyball game in the barn was well underway. Paul Wagler dominated the front row at the moment, sending one spike ball after the other over the net, flashing triumphant looks toward Debbie in the spot next to him after each success.
    He was good, Debbie admitted to herself. And he was handsome. Most girls here tonight—now that Alvin was gone—would look at Paul and her with new interest. Yet they would be wrong. Paul would make some girl a decent husband someday—just not her.
    From the other side of the court, Ida sent a smile of encouragement. Ida was a dear, but she only made things worse by her not-so-veiled attempts to push Debbie straight into Paul’s arms. What had come over the girl? Ida knew the depth of loss she’d experienced with Alvin’s departure. Did Ida wish to sacrifice her own affections for the handsome Paul for another’s perceived benefit? It seemed so. She’d whispered in Debbie’s ear tonight, just before the game began, “I don’t have a chance in the world to catch Paul, so don’t you be holding yourself back now.” Debbie had been horrified buther