Growing Up in Lancaster County (45 page)

“I’ll try to remember,” Rachel mumbled. As she headed for the greenhouse, a sudden breeze rattled the leaves on the trees. She shivered and pulled the collar of her jacket tighter around her neck.

When Rachel entered the greenhouse a few minutes later, she found Grandpa in his office, sitting at his desk.

“I—I have something I need to tell you,” she said tearfully.

“What is it, Rachel?” Grandpa asked.

“I spilled ice cream on the wildflower book I borrowed from you, and—and then I hid it, but now it’s missing.”

“Ah, I see.” Grandpa reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a book. It was the wildflower book. “Is this what you’ve been looking for?”

Rachel was so surprised she could hardly talk.

“I found this book in the hayloft when I went there looking for a box.” Grandpa frowned. “What do you have to say about this, Rachel?”

Rachel hung her head, unable to meet Grandpa’s gaze. “I–I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been looking at the book while I was eating ice cream.”
Sniff. Sniff
. “And I shouldn’t have hid the book in the hayloft to keep you from finding out what I’d done.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’ll save up my money and buy you a new book.”

Grandpa shook his head. “That’s not necessary. The book isn’t ruined; just one page has a stain on it.” He leaned forward with his elbows on the desk. “I do want you to learn a lesson from this, however.”

Rachel’s heart hammered in her chest as she waited to hear what her punishment would be. Would Grandpa tell Mom and Pap? Would they give her a
bletsching
[spanking] or make her do a bunch more chores? “I’m really sorry, and I know I deserve to be punished,” she said, nearly choking on a sob.

Grandpa pulled Rachel into his arms. “It’s good that you’ve apologized to me, but you need to tell God you’re sorry, too.” He patted her back. “A sign that a person is growing up is when that person is willing to admit to doing something wrong, and to make it right with the person involved and also with God.”

Rachel nodded and bowed her head. She’d make things right with God right now. And the next time she asked to borrow anything, she would try extra hard to make sure accidents didn’t happen!

R
achel, don’t forget to put your sheets and clothes in the laundry basket before you leave for school,” Mom called up the stairs on Monday morning. “And hurry; we’re ready to eat breakfast!”

Rachel cupped her hands around her mouth and hollered, “Okay, Mom!”

She dashed across the room, opened her closet door, and stepped inside to get her dirty clothes. She looked around and noticed her jump rope lying on the shelf. She scooped it up.

I’ll take this to school today and play with it at recess, she decided
.

“Rachel, are you coming?” Mom called again.

“Jah, I’ll be there soon.”

Rachel noticed the stack of newspapers she’d placed on top of the flowers Grandpa had given her to press several days ago.

“I’d better check and see how they’re doing,” Rachel said, kneeling. She lifted the newspapers and the cardboard covering the flowers. They looked pretty good. Soon they’d be ready to use in a bookmark or a card. Rachel could hardly wait! She sat several minutes, thinking about all the different designs she could make.

Rachel’s stomach rumbled, and she remembered that she was hungry. So she left the closet, hurried out of her room, and skipped down the stairs.

When Rachel entered the kitchen, she found Mom clearing dishes off the table. Grandpa sat by the fireplace reading a newspaper, but Rachel saw no sign of Jacob, Henry, or Pap.

“
Hoscht du schunn geese
[Have you already eaten]
?”
Rachel asked, stepping up to Mom.

Mom nodded and placed the bowls and cups into the sink.

Rachel’s mouth dropped open like a broken window hinge. “You ate breakfast without me?”

“That’s right,” said Mom. “I called you several times, but you didn’t come, so we ate without you.”

Rachel’s stomach rumbled as she stared at the table. “Can I have some breakfast now?”

Mom shook her head and motioned to the clock on the wall. “I’m afraid there’s no time for that, Rachel. You still have to feed the chickens and check for eggs. Then you’ll need to head to school.” Mom’s forehead wrinkled. “You should have come when I called you for breakfast.”

Rachel stood frozen, unable to say a word. She could hardly believe Mom would send her to school without any breakfast. She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying, and then she looked at Grandpa, hoping he’d come to her rescue.

“Rachel, you’ve developed a bad habit of fooling around and not doing what you’re told,” he said. “Bad habits are like a comfortable bed: They’re easy to get into but hard to get out of.”

Rachel swallowed around the lump in her throat as she gave a quick nod. Then she grabbed her jacket from the wall peg and rushed out the back door. Maybe if she fed the chickens quickly, Mom would let her have some breakfast.

The shrill cry of a crow drew Rachel’s gaze upward, but she had no time to dawdle. She dashed across the yard to the chicken coop and jerked open the door.

Quickly, she scooped out the chicken feed and poured some into the feeders. The chickens appeared to have plenty of water, so she decided not to add any more. She glanced in each of the nesting boxes but didn’t see any eggs.

“The hurrier I go, the behinder I get,” Rachel said as she raced out the door.

“I’m done feeding the chickens,” Rachel said when she returned to the kitchen. “Can I have some breakfast now?”

Mom handed Rachel an apple. “There’s no time for that. Jacob’s already left for school, and even if you leave right now, you’ll probably be late.”

Rachel’s forehead wrinkled. “Jacob left without me?”

Mom nodded. “I didn’t think it would be fair to make him wait for you and then have both of you late for school. I told him to go on without you.”

Rachel looked at Grandpa. “Will you give me a ride to school so I won’t be late?”

He shook his head. “Sorry, Rachel. Not this time. I have a customer coming to pick up some plants in a few minutes. I need to get out to my greenhouse right now.”

Rachel looked at Mom. “Can’t Pap or Henry take me to school?”

“No,” Mom said. “They left to run some errands in town right after breakfast.”

“Could you take me, then?”

“Sorry, Rachel, but I have washing to do and can’t leave the baby.” Mom handed Rachel her backpack and lunch pail. “Hurry to school now.”

“B–but you always say I shouldn’t walk to school alone,” Rachel stammered.

“I think you’re old enough now. Besides, you have no other choice.” Mom shooed Rachel toward the door. “Schnell!”

Rachel headed up the path toward school. The leaves on the ground curled up on the edges as the breeze whistled them along. Rachel’s feet dragged with each step she took. Besides knowing she was going to be late, she was tired from staying up past her bedtime last night. She decided she might as well take her time getting to school.

“Guess that’s what I get for reading when I should have been sleeping, and for not paying attention when Mom called me to breakfast,” she mumbled, feeling sorry for herself. “It’s not fair that everyone ate breakfast without me. Someone should have come upstairs and told me it was time to eat.”

By the time Rachel got to school, she felt even worse. When Rachel entered the schoolhouse, Elizabeth stood at the blackboard, writing the arithmetic assignment, so Rachel knew she’d missed the morning prayer and the songs they always sang.

As Rachel stepped down the aisle toward her desk, Elizabeth turned and frowned at her. “You’re late, Rachel.”

Rachel nodded. “Jah, I know. I woke up late, and then I—”

Elizabeth motioned to Rachel’s desk. “Please take your seat and get out your arithmetic book. We can talk about your reason for being late during recess.”

Rachel swallowed hard as her throat started to burn. She knew she probably wouldn’t be allowed to go outside and play during recess. Elizabeth would probably have some work for Rachel to do during recess. She might even have to stay after school because of her tardiness.

Rachel sank into the seat at her desk.
It seems like I’m always in trouble. Why do I make so many mistakes?

As Rachel headed home from school that afternoon, she fretted and fumed. She’d not only had to stay in from recess today, but Elizabeth had made her stay after school to clean the blackboards and sweep the floor.

Jacob hadn’t waited for her either. He’d said he had better things to do.

“That’s fine with me,” Rachel muttered. “At least I don’t have to listen to him scolding me for being late to school and calling me a little bensel.”

When Rachel entered her yard, she saw clothes on the line, flapping in the breeze. Mom stood on the back porch, tapping her foot and staring at the porch floor.

“What’s wrong, Mom?” Rachel asked as she climbed the porch steps. “You look umgerrent.”

“I am upset.”
Tap! Tap! Tap!
Mom tapped her foot some more and pointed to the floor. “See this mess the
hinkel
[chickens] made with their droppings?”

Rachel nodded.

“Well, they made that mess because someone left the door to the chicken coop open this morning.” Mom peered at Rachel over the top of her glasses. “What do you have to say for yourself, Rachel?”

Rachel gulped. “Well, I—uh—was in a hurry when I left the coop, so I—uh—guess I must have forgotten to shut the door.”

“How many times have I told you to close the door to the coop?” Mom asked.

“Lots of times.”

Tap! Tap! Tap!
“I shouldn’t have to keep reminding you, Rachel.”
Tap! Tap! Tap!
“You want to be grown up, yet you act like a bensel.”

Tears stung Rachel’s eyes. It was bad enough that Jacob called her a little bensel. Did Mom have to call her that, too?

“And another thing happened because you left the door open,” Mom said. “Some of the chickens ate the cat’s food.” She pointed to the porch. “I want you to clean up the mess and then get busy on your homework.”

Rachel shuffled into the house to get the mop and a bucket of water. This really had not been a good day!

When Rachel climbed into bed that night, she expected to find clean, sweet-smelling sheets since Mom had done laundry. But she discovered her sheets were the same ones as the night before—they looked dirty and wrinkled. They didn’t smell fresh and clean either.

That’s strange, she thought. I saw clothes on the line, so I know Mom did the laundry today. Why didn’t she wash my sheets?

Rachel hurried across the room and opened her closet door. She reached for a clean dress to have all ready for school the next day. But all her dresses were on the floor in a heap.

“Ach, now I remember! This morning Mom asked me to put my dirty clothes in the laundry basket.” Rachel frowned. She knew that part of her problem was not listening carefully to Mom. The other part of the problem was that she got sidetracked easily and forgot important things.

“Now I’ll have to sleep in dirty, smelly sheets,” she grumbled. “Worse yet, tomorrow I’ll have to wear a dirty, wrinkled dress to school.”

After school the next day, Rachel headed to the greenhouse to see if Grandpa needed any help.

“Have you done your homework yet?” Grandpa asked, his bushy eyebrows pulling together.

Rachel nodded. “I only had a little bit, and I did it right after I ate a snack.”

“All right. I’d be happy to have your help.”

“What would you like me to do?” Rachel asked.

Grandpa motioned to the broom leaning against the wall. “I spilled some potting soil a few minutes ago. Would you please sweep that up for me?”

“Jah, sure.” Rachel grabbed the broom.
Swish! Swish! Swish!
She swept up the dirt in no time at all.

When she put the broom away, she noticed the book about wildflowers lying on a shelf, so she asked Grandpa if she could look at it.

Grandpa nodded. “But only while you’re here in the greenhouse. I don’t want you to take it outside or even up to the house.”

“Okay.”

Ding! Ding!
The bell above the greenhouse door jingled, and an elderly English couple stepped in. While Grandpa waited on them, Rachel decided to try making a bookmark, following the directions in the wildflower book.

She opened it and frowned as she stared at the page.
I’ll need some flowers in order to make this bookmark, and the ones I’m pressing in my room aren’t ready yet. I wonder
…

Rachel glanced at Grandpa, but he was still busy with his customers. She moved to the shelf where some African violets were and plucked off a few purple blossoms.
I’m sure Grandpa won’t mind if I thin a couple of these plants
, she decided as she picked a few more blossoms.

Rachel set to work making her bookmark, gluing each flower petal on an index card she’d cut in half. Then she covered it with clear contact paper, only it didn’t look right. It looked kind of lumpy. “Hmm. I wonder if I made a mistake.”

She read the directions again. “Cut the index card in half lengthwise. Arrange the pressed flowers in whatever design you like.” Rachel slapped the side of her head. “I needed pressed flowers, not fresh ones. I made a big mistake!”