Lifted Up by Angels by Lurlene McDaniel

wheel. “Soon the fireworks will start over by the lake,” Ethan said as the wheel began its slow ascent.
    Leah saw the grayish blue water from the high vantage point. People were already gathered along the shore in lawn chairs and on blankets. “It already looks packed.”
    “Don’t worry. Some of our friends are there saving places.”
    Since Leah hadn’t yet run into Martha, she wondered if Jonah’s sister was one of the friends saving places.
    Their seat on the Ferris wheel swung to the very top, then lurched to a stop. Far below, Leah saw a man fiddling with the machinery. “We may have to watch from up here,” she said, huddling closer to Ethan. “It sure is a long way down.”
    “Are you frightened? I have seen you drive. How could this be scary?”
    She punched his arm good-naturedly. “Swinging in an open basket fifty feet in the air with nothing but a bar across my lap doesn’t bother me one bit.”
    He laughed. “I like this ride best of all. It lets me see the earth as birds see it. As angels see it. Sometimes I dream that I am flying above the ground, swooping and soaring. I don’t like waking up from that dream.”
    “You’ve never flown in an airplane, have you?”
    He shook his head, but she saw a wistful look cross his face. “I would like to do that someday.”
    “You ought to see the clouds from the top side. They look like big fat cotton balls. Do you think angels play in the clouds?”
    “Angels go anywhere they want.” He brushed her hair with his lips. “Even on Ferris wheels at county fairs.”
    Leah felt as if she were melting. Ethan could say the sweetest things.
    After the ride, they headed toward the lake. They searched the throngs for their friends. Charity was the first to spot them. “Over there.” She waved at a group of about thirty kids lounging on quilts and blankets.
    Leah settled next to Ethan, mindful of the glances from the group. She was the only non-Amish person among them. From the corner of her eye, she saw Martha. Martha kept glancingat Ethan covertly, and Leah knew that if it hadn’t been for her, Martha undoubtedly would have been the one with Ethan tonight. Leah shifted so that Martha was completely out of her line of vision.
    With a loud pop, the first volley of fireworks lit the sky. Cascades of color and showers of gold rained down in long streamers. Using her stuffed bear as a pillow, Leah stretched out. Ethan lay beside her and together they watched the brilliant lights dance overhead. With every burst, Leah felt Ethan’s hand tighten on hers. Waves of contentment washed over her. She couldn’t imagine anyplace else in the world she’d rather be than under a July Fourth fireworks display with Ethan.
    Ethan asked, “Do you think your mother is seeing fireworks in the South Pacific?”
    “According to Mom, a person can see a million stars out there. Who needs fireworks?” Her mother had called a few days before to hear how Leah’s doctor’s appointment had gone. Leah had given her mother a good report, not even mentioning her sore knee. The cortisone shot had helped immensely, but her bout with cancer seemed always to be lurking on the fringes of her mind.
    Ethan sighed. “Sometimes I think about traveling all over the world.”
    Leah understood his longing. But for her, what he had—home and a sense of belonging—seemed more satisfactory than sailing the ocean. “Maybe someday you will,” she said.
    “It does not seem likely. But I wish I could.”
    When the fireworks show was over, the quilts were folded and the whole group joined the exodus of people headed home. The Amish kids were going to the Yoder farm for the campout. And Leah would be with them. She hoped she didn’t do anything to embarrass herself. And she hoped that she and Ethan could hold on to the feelings they had for each other—regardless of all their differences.
    A stream ran through the part of the farm where the campsite was set up. A large bonfire was built and