Little Amish Matchmaker by Linda Byler

they were both 60 and then they could go visit the eye doctor together. He was thoroughly tired of Sim’s ga-mach . (way of doing things)
    Christmas was coming, and the program and the spring wagon were much more important, anyway.

Chapter Ten
    R UTHIE STOOD BY THE blackboard now, the only sign of agitation her interlaced fingers, which she loosened, then hung her arms at her side for only a second before entwining her fingers again.
    Endlessly, they had practiced sentences, words that began with the letter B, or H, or C, the hardest ones.
    Hannah and Dora spent nights at her house, listening to her amazing stories of the past when her mother had been ill.
    Ruthie no longer picked her face. Her eyes seemed quieter, somehow.
    The parents had their invitations to the Christmas program, stamped holly with brilliant red berries on a gold card, inviting them to Hickory Grove School at 1:00 P.M. on Friday, December 23.
    One more day to practice, then two other schools were coming to see their program on Thursday, a day before the real one, when all the parents would attend.
    The plays were shaping up. Four white sheets hung from the wires suspended from hooks in the walls and on the ceilings. Bright tinsel was draped from the curtains.
    The poster was magnificent. It was the finest piece of freehand art work Hickory Grove School had ever shown. Isaac knew that, but didn’t say so. It was bragging, which was wrong. It was a form of pride. He could be pleased with it, though; he just couldn’t say so. He told Calvin, however, who said he agreed 100 percent. It was a great poster.
    Teacher Catherine drew camels and wise men on the blackboard, and the upper-grade boys helped color them with colored chalk.
    Isaac had to bite back his observance of the similarities between these camels and Hannah’s horses on the poster. They looked exactly alike. The noses, especially.
    Teacher Catherine’s apron, even her halsduch (cape) was covered in colored chalk dust, but her blue eyes radiated her enthusiasm. She talked nonstop, even chewing gum at recess, which was sort of unusual. Chewing gum wasn’t allowed in school.
    Thursday morning, Isaac leaped out of bed, flicked the small blue lighter and lifted the glass lamp chimney on his kerosene lamp. The small flame traveled the length of the wick.
    He yanked open his dresser drawer, hopped into his denim work trousers and shrugged into his blue shirt as shivers chased themselves across his cold shoulders.
    It had to be zero degrees outside.
    It was! The red mercury hovered at the zero, and if you stood on your toes and looked down, it was colder than zero degrees. No doubt Calvin would have the real temperature, though.
    Isaac rushed through his chores. The minute he walked into the kitchen, Mam said he needed to shower before breakfast. His black Sunday pants and his green Christmas shirt were laid out. He was supposed to wear his good shoes, not his sneakers.
    If Mam would give him time to catch his breath when he walked into the kitchen, it wouldn’t be so bad. But barking orders when you were cold and hungry and wanted to sit by the coal stove and think of fried mush and dippy eggs just didn’t work very well.
    So Isaac grumbled under his breath, scalded himself in the shower and shivered into his Sunday clothes. He brushed his teeth, watching the blue foam from the Crest toothpaste splatter the mirror. His face looked pretty good this morning. He liked his green eyes. He thought they looked nice, but you couldn’t tell people that. Not even Calvin.
    He bowed his head over his plate. He had to rearrange his thoughts away from the Christmas program to thank God for his breakfast before digging into a pile of stewed saltine crackers, fried mush and dippy eggs. Now he felt much better, fueled to meet the day. Mam’s eyes approved of his clean appearance, but nothing was said. It wasn’t Mam’s way.
    “Did you get my name-exchange gift ready?” he asked Mam, as he bent to pull on his