Rachel's Prayer by Leisha Kelly

off in the Pacific with men under him needin’ his attention for a few more months. Besides, the pastor said mail could be awful slow over such a distance, and maybe they couldn’t even send mail out for a while, just to keep their positions a secret if a move against the enemy was comin’. Pa didn’t let it bother him. One of Joe’s letters had said he should be comin’ home in July, and we were all glad about that.
    I decided to stop and think about things a little differently. Harry and Bert were both near as big as me anymore. And strong too. They could do what the farm needed with Pa’s help until Joe got home. I didn’t much question that. It was getting warmer. Mr. Wortham and I had already talked on what we’d plant in which field in which order an’ how soon. If I could just help him an’ Pa get the seed in the ground, they wouldn’t need me so much after that.
    The feelings I’d put down in January came back at me again, and I thought that if Jesus was in my shoes, maybe he’d want to go a world away and help our soldiers too.
    I told myself that, but I still felt a little funny to borrow Mr. Wortham’s truck to go and visit the recruiters when they come to town again. I didn’t tell Mrs. Wortham nor Pa and the kids what I was doing, figurin’ there was no use gettin’ them excited ahead if I couldn’t go.
    It was the marines I’d talked to with Robert and Willy before, because Willy’d seen a poster of the marines and decided that was for him. This time I searched out the army recruiter. I knew they wouldn’t call on me for a draft like they had Kirk and some others I knew, but I figured that if I volunteered myself maybe they’d consider what I had to say an’ let me sign up. I still wanted to go. Seemed like Harry an’ Bert were old enough to manage fine. Rorey too. And before long, Joe might be home. They’d be all right if I was gone. Pa seemed like he might already be all right. They didn’t need me as much as I’d thought. What good was I doing anybody, makin’ wood things? I oughta serve, if I could get the chance. But there was nobody who’d listen to what I had to say. I left Dearing feeling awful discouraged and kind of stupid for tryin’ again. I shoulda saved myself the trouble. The army man turned me away.
    “I can drive,” I told him. “I can operate a radio or somethin’.”
    But he just shook his head. So I went to the navy recruiter, and he said he was sorry but I oughta just do whatever I could to help the war effort at home.
    It was a bother being rejected again. But worse than that was wondering why I’d felt so strongly that I oughta try. How could I be so wrong? Was I just deceiving myself to get out of shoulderin’ things at home? Sometimes I thought that if I could be in the service and do as well as Joe had, maybe Pa would think more of me. Maybe even the Turreys would find a little respect. But I knew enough to understand that that kind of thinkin’ was vain. It didn’t matter what any man thought of me. Only what God thought.
    So I must have had it wrong. If Jesus was in my shoes, maybe he’d want to stay right here and do what he could for my family. That thinkin’ made me feel bad that I’d come into town at all. With three brothers gone, I shouldn’t want to be leavin’. I should have the right kind of heart for my brothers and sisters. Why was I tryin’ to get away from things?
    I didn’t like my mind going two ways like this. A preacher named Cuyler wrote that God always has a helping angel for those who are willing to do their duty. I remembered Pastor tellin’ me that once. An’ I was always willing to take on whatever duty I could. To my country now especially. But maybe I was just kiddin’ myself and lettin’ my pride get in the way of the practical.
    Pastor also said once to do the duty that lies nearest thee. An’ that had to be farm an’ family. I’d be blind not to see that. Harry and Bert were still young, and they had