Little Amish Matchmaker by Linda Byler Page B

upper-graders knew why. Isaac felt his nostrils sting with emotion, but shook his head to straighten his hair, then looked out the window and blinked furiously. He got out his little black comb and pulled it through his hair, very hard, to get rid of that teary feeling.
    They had to wait in line to fill their plates. Mothers bent over little ones grasping paper plates teetering dangerously with cookies and potato chips. Everyone was talking at once. Smiles were everywhere, faces shining with good humor.
    Teacher Catherine moved among her pupils, thanking, congratulating, praising their efforts. Her face was absolutely radiant. Isaac could tell her praise was genuine. She was so pleased. That made it all worthwhile.
    Finally, he reached the stack of paper plates. He helped himself to a large square of Rice Krispie Treats, pushed it to one side of his plate and added a monster cookie, three chocolate- covered Ritz crackers with peanut butter, a large scoop of Chex Mix and three or four of Mam’s tarts. He was ravenously hungry. He had been too nervous to eat much of his food at lunchtime.
    First he ate the monster cookie. Every year, Ben Zook sei Annie made these cookies. They were rough-textured with oatmeal and loaded with red and green M & M’s for Christmas, of course. They were soft and chewy and buttery and perfect, every time.
    Calvin was chomping on a handful of Chex Mix, sounding like a horse munching oats, spilling a lot of it on the floor, too hungry to worry about the excess.
    Michael ate whoopie pies, one after the other, as fast as he could cram them into his mouth. Icing clung to his chin and the side of his mouth, but he didn’t seem to mind, until his sister came bustling over with a handful of napkins and told him to wipe his mouth, and where were his manners? She had her eyebrows in that position, the one that meant he had overstepped his boundaries, and if he didn’t straighten up it would go all the way to the Supreme Court named Mam.
    Michael kicked carelessly in her direction and told her to mind her own business, he could take care of himself. Isaac giggled behind his Rice Krispie Treat.
    Then Dan Glick brought the propane lamp stand out for Teacher Catherine, followed by Aaron Fisher who carried the propane tank and accessories. The lamp stand was made of cherry with a magazine rack on one side. It was beautiful.
    Catherine put both hands to her mouth, her blue eyes opened wide and she said nothing at all for awhile. When the women crowded around, she began thanking them, saying it was too much, just way too much.
    Dat went around with an envelope, collecting the money from each family.
    Twenty-eight dollars. That wasn’t bad, they said.
    Who made the cabinet? they asked.
    Sol King?
    Oh, he was one of the best.
    Wasn’t that cherry wood different, now?
    Did Teacher Catherine have other cherry ­pieces?
    Levi sei Rachel thought her bedroom suit was cherry, but she wasn’t sure.
    The women nodded their heads, pleased. It was a good choice. Teacher Catherine was worth it, that was one thing sure. She had such a nice way with the children, didn’t she?
    The blanketed horses were becoming restless, stomping their feet in the snow at their stand where they were tied to the board fence. Mothers collected gifts, stashed them in bags or leftover cardboard boxes, and herded their children into their coats.
    Fathers carried the boxes and empty trays and containers, stuffing them under buggy seats, as children clambered in, still munching that last piece of chocolate.
    Doddy Stoltzfus pulled at Isaac’s sleeve. “Isaac, vee bisht ?” (How are you?)
    “ Goot. Goot !” Isaac answered, grinning happily.
    “You did good!” High praise from Doddy. Isaac grinned, basking in the kind words from his grandfather.
    Sim walked up, extending his hand, greeting Doddy. Doddy beamed as he lifted his head to meet Sim’s eyes.
    Isaac walked away, irked at Sim. Sim would be as old as Doddy and still would never have