by Linda Byler
That evening, Mam made whoopie pies. Lizzie thought that besides doughnuts, whoopie pies were the best thing to put in your lunch. Mam didn’t make them very often, because she was helping Dat in the shop quite a lot lately.
But tonight, because they were going sledding, she made whoopie pies. She beat sugar, oil, and eggs, adding cocoa powder and flour until she had a smooth, creamy dough which tasted absolutely delicious. Lizzie put her finger in the soft, chocolaty dough so often that Mam said she would get sick if she didn’t stop it right this minute.
After the cookies were baked, Mam put creamy white frosting on the bottom of one cookie, putting another one on top to make a little sandwich. Then she wrapped each one individually in little squares of plastic wrap. Emma was allowed to help wrap them, but Lizzie wasn’t, because she had eaten too much of the dough.
The next morning, Lizzie was up bright and early to pack her food in her lunchbox. She went straight to the pantry and arranged five whoopie pies on a plate, carrying them over to the table where their lunchboxes stood side by side. She carefully placed them inside hers, being very concerned that she wouldn’t smash them too tightly against each other.
Mam came over with their bologna sandwiches and peered into Lizzie’s lunchbox. “Lizzie, how many whoopie pies did you put in there?” she asked.
“Five,” answered Lizzie.
“You can’t have five, Lizzie. Now take two of them out. Three are even too many,” she said briskly, hurrying over to the sink to mix orange juice in a pitcher.
“No, Mam—you just don’t understand. One is for first recess, and two for dinner. Then if we go sledding I’ll need one for a snack, and one for on the way home ’cause I’ll be so tired,” Lizzie explained.
Mam tried to hide her smile, but she was smiling broadly when she looked into Lizzie’s upturned face. Lizzie’s eyes were very serious, and she was terribly concerned about having enough to eat on this strenuous outing.
“Ach, Lizzie, you’re going to be as round as a little barrel if you keep on eating so many whoopie pies. That’s just too many,” she sighed.
“I can give Betty one, okay?” Lizzie bargained.
“Alright,” Mam said, giving in.
But Lizzie was already thinking about not giving Betty one, or else she wouldn’t have enough. But she didn’t tell Mam what she was thinking, because there was no sense in it. Besides, maybe if Mam would make them more often, Lizzie wouldn’t be so hungry for them. So really, if you looked at it that way, it was Mam’s fault.
The whole way to school, the girls chattered happily about going sledding. Lavina had a big, long, wooden sled with steel runners, and Emma and Lizzie had a smaller one to share. They put their sled upside down on top of Lavina’s big one and set their lunchboxes inside. Lizzie didn’t have to carry her lunch that way, so she swung her arms and skipped along behind Emma.
“Lizzie, watch out. You’re going to fall on a patch of slippery snow. Stop skipping,” Emma said.
So Lizzie walked carefully, even if she felt like skipping. It was a wonderful, sunshiny day. Cold, but not so cold that it hurt your nose like it did sometimes. Lizzie’s mittens were soft and dry from hanging on the wooden rack by the coal stove during the night. Her boots were dry, too, because Mam had made sure the tops were turned down when they were put by the stove in the evening.
It seemed like the forenoon was twice as long as usual. Lizzie tried hard to concentrate on her arithmetic lesson, but she just couldn’t think as well as usual. Emma had told Lizzie some time ago that third grade was harder than second, and it was. Especially arithmetic.
Lizzie propped her head on the back of her hand and worked on some problems. David Lantz walked past her desk and slapped at her elbow. Her hand flew away from her face, and, for a second, it felt like her head would fall off, till she snapped it up to save embarrassment. She glared up into David’s laughing face, batting her eyelashes with righteous anger. Some of her classmates snickered, and David walked hurriedly on down the aisle. The teacher had not seen any of the commotion, because she was correcting answers in class.
Boys were so ignorant, Lizzie thought. Half of them smelled like a cow stable when they came to school, and most of them hardly ever brushed their teeth. They ate green apples, too, which made Lizzie’s mouth pucker just to watch them. And one day Mosie Fisher told Emma he could eat a whole apple—the core, seeds, and everything. Even that thing you twirled on the top! And he did. Lizzie told him she guaranteed he felt like throwing up, but he told her the seeds were the best part.
Finally, the clock showed half past eleven, and Teacher Katie told them all to put their books away, clean off their desks, and put on their warm coats, scarves, and boots. There was a lot of noise, although nobody spoke because it was still school hours.
Lizzie pulled on her boots, her face red with exertion. She yanked on her coat and reached into the pocket for her mittens. They weren’t there! She searched every corner of her coat pocket, but they simply were not in there. She looked on the floor, checking inside her desk, but her mittens were gone.
She raised her hand, needing permission to go back where her lunch had been. The teacher was busy helping the first graders with their boots and didn’t see Lizzie’s hand. She shook her hand, coughing, so the teacher would notice, but she still didn’t look. Lizzie was just sure everyone would leave without her, and panic rose in her throat. She shook her hand again, clearing her throat loudly.
“Lizzie!”
Oh, good, Teacher noticed! she thought.
“I can’t find my mittens,” Lizzie said, almost in tears.
“You may go check the lunch shelves. Are you sure they weren’t left outside?” she asked.
Lizzie hurried back to the shelves, searching frantically for the lost mittens. She cast a quick glance back at the other pupils, who were all dressed and waiting, their lunchboxes on their wooden desks. Her panic increased, and she felt hot tears prick at her eyelids. She just couldn’t cry now, she thought wildly.
Suddenly Emma was beside her, touching her coat sleeve with her hand, whispering, “Lizzie, I think you left them in the bathroom at recess.”
“Oh,” was all Lizzie could manage without bursting into tears. She dashed madly out the door, and, sure enough, there in the bathroom lay her bright red mittens. Running back as fast as she could, she thought about how she must say thank you to Emma for remembering.
They were all put in pairs of two for their march to the Stoltzfus’s hill. Lizzie walked with Emma, and they took turns pulling the sled.
“Emma, I’m so glad you remembered where my mittens were!” Lizzie said sincerely.
“Well, Lizzie, you were almost crying, weren’t you? I pitied you so much, because I know how that feels if everyone is watching you, and they’re all waiting to go. Oh, that makes me so nervous,” Emma said.
“Me, too!” said Lizzie, and she meant it with all her heart.
When they reached the hill, the big boys unloaded wood from one of the sleds and started a fire. First they put newspapers and scraps on a small pile, lit a match, and held it to the paper, adding very small slivers of wood, until a crackling flame licked steadily higher. Then they added larger pieces of wood, and soon Lizzie could feel the soft warmth of the bonfire on her face. They pulled the sleds in a circle, making a cozy ring around the fire. Then the teacher told them all to bow their heads and they said their usual lunch prayer. “God is great and God is good, and we thank Him for our food.”
After the prayer, everyone opened their lunchboxes and ate the good food their mothers had prepared. They all laughed and talked excitedly, because after dinner they could go sledding for a long time.
Lizzie sat on her sled and ate her bologna sandwich first. Mam had bought fresh, sweet bologna from the butcher truck. It tasted extra good today, because of the cold winter air and the cozy fire crackling in the middle of the sled ring. But the best part of all was her two whoopie pies. The crumbs stuck to her hands, they w
ere so moist and soft, and the creamy vanilla frosting made a mess on the plastic wrap. Lizzie licked up every sweet bite, then looked at Betty. She looked at the two whoopie pies in her lunchbox, and looked at Betty again.
Slowly she closed her lunchbox, because she knew how hungry she would be from sledding. She stole a glance at Emma, but she was talking to her friend Rebecca. No one would know if she gave Betty a whoopie pie. Mam would say God did, but Lizzie didn’t suppose it mattered that much to God. He probably wouldn’t mind, especially not if she gave her one tomorrow.
Teacher Katie stood up and said in a clear voice, “Now, everyone listen carefully. We have two hours to go sledding, and I’ll blow the whistle when it’s time to return to school. No more than two on a sled, and everyone has to take turns so the little ones get to ride as well. You may go now, and please be careful.”
With whoops and yells of excitement, the sleds lined up and started down as fast as they were filled up. Lizzie watched the big boys as they flung themselves on their sleds, two to a sled, and flew down the hill. Little wisps of snow drifted from beneath the speeding runners, and the boys’ cries of elation sent chills of nervousness up Lizzie’s spine. The hill looked so long and steep, she wasn’t sure if she dared go down with Emma or not. Some of the boys were pushing each other, going so closely, side by side, that Lizzie held her breath, biting down on her lower lip—it scared her so much.
“Lizzie, do you want to ride with me?” Katie Lapp bent down to look at her kindly.
“I-I guess,” Lizzie stammered.
“Okay, I’ll lie on the sled, and you lie on top. Hold on to the sled on each side of me, and don’t let go, because if you do, you could slide off. Don’t be afraid, because I did this a whole bunch of times. It’s really, really fun,” she said in her loud voice.
So, with her heart hammering in her chest, and her mouth dry with fear, Lizzie plopped down on Katie’s back.
“Here, put your hands right here,” Katie said, guiding her hands to a round piece of wood that ran along the side of the sled. “Ready?”
“Yes,” came Lizzie’s small reply.
“Here we go!”
And they were off. The air hit Lizzie’s face with little bits of snow biting her cheeks. The pressure of it took her breath away, and for a short time Lizzie panicked, because she thought she wasn’t able to breathe at all. Her eyes just wanted to close, and even when they opened she could hardly see anything except a blur of white. Katie was soft and not very solid, so Lizzie always felt as if she was rolling off either to one side or the other.
They went so fast that Lizzie could do nothing but scream. She screamed loud and long, half laughing and half crying, but screaming nevertheless. Katie laughed and laughed, telling Lizzie to hang on, which she was doing with all her strength.
When the sled slowed at the bottom of the hill, Katie heaved underneath her, and Lizzie rolled off into the cold white snow. They lay on their stomachs and laughed helplessly, gasping for breath.
“You have … have a whole pile of snow in your hair!” Lizzie gasped.
“Look at yourself!” Katie said, laughing.
“Oh, that was so fun! Let’s go right up as fast as we can and come back down again!” Lizzie said.
So they ran up the hill till they were out of breath, then they walked along, shouting to each sled that whizzed past. Lizzie thought she had never had a day as wonderful as this one in her whole life. The sky was so bright blue that it actually hurt her eyes, and the snow sparkled and glistened, making everything seem unreal. Lizzie had never gone so fast on a sled ever before in her life. She decided that day that she loved speed, and the faster the sled went down the hill, the better.
Emma and Lizzie even took a sled completely on their own, and Lizzie ran alongside, pushing Emma to give them a fast start.
Some of the older children starting sitting on their sleds and steering them with their feet. That looked too dangerous to Lizzie, and she and Emma decided they would try that next year, maybe, when they were older.
They were walking back up the hill, slowly now, because they were getting so tired. Emma said this was the best day she ever had in school, and Lizzie said she loved her teacher so much that she was going to bring her a whoopie pie tomorrow for taking them sledding.
“Why don’t you give her one today?” Emma asked, pulling off her mitten and shaking it against her knee. “My mittens are soaked.”
“Why don’t you put them in your lunchbox, Emma? They’re too wet to keep your hands warm, anyway,” Lizzie said.
“Put them in your lunch, because mine is full of stuff,” Emma said.
“What stuff?”
“Just stuff. Little containers, and I didn’t eat all my food,” Emma answered.
“What do you have left?” Lizzie asked.
“Everything.”
“You mean all your food? Everything?” Lizzie asked.
“Lizzie, don’t tell anyone, okay? But …” Emma lowered her voice. “I was so terribly afraid of going sledding that I … well, Lizzie, don’t tell anyone—promise?”
“I promise,” Lizzie answered solemnly.
“Cross your heart?” Emma asked worriedly.
“Cross my heart.”
“Okay. I was so scared that when I tried to eat my bologna sandwich, I almost threw up. Really, I had to take a drink and put my sandwich away.”
Emma stopped and looked squarely at Lizzie. “And Lizzie, I don’t really like to go sledding very much, because it still scares me terribly. Don’t tell anyone, but I’d almost rather sit at my desk and do my lessons”.
Lizzie’s eyes squinted as she looked out over the sparkling white hill. She watched as the boys tried to push each other off their sleds while they were going down at quite an alarming rate. Then she turned to look at Emma, who looked back quite solemnly at Lizzie.
“Emma, that doesn’t matter one bit,” Lizzie said staunchly. “I will not tell one single person ever that sled riding scares you if you don’t tell one single person that I put five whoopie pies in my lunch this morning.”
“Five?” Emma was horrified. “Why five?”
Lizzie looked carefully over her shoulder and whispered to Emma, “Because. And I’m not even giving one to the teacher!”
When Teacher Katie blew her whistle, she looked at Emma and Lizzie, their heads thrown back in laughter, and thought how much they must love sledding.
chapter 4
Staying in at Recess
The weather remained cold, with snowfalls almost every week. Lizzie trudged to school every day with Lavina and Emma, carrying her little tin lunchbox.
Lizzie loved school, but it was getting to be a bit boring. She was tired of playing “Duck, Goose, and Tramp” in the snow, which she always thought was a dumb game in the first place. Besides, the boys played too rough, and if Lizzie got in their way, sometimes they pushed her rudely to one side to get past on the narrow snow trails.
Teacher Katie had just tapped the bell to dismiss the pupils after they had eaten their lunch. Lizzie and Betty pulled on their coats, tying their scarves securely under their chins. Lizzie pulled on her mittens and ran through the door.
“Lizzie!”
Lizzie jerked to a halt and turned around.
Teacher Katie stood beside her desk, her eyes glaring at Lizzie. Lizzie’s heart skipped a beat and her mouth felt dry as she picked at her coat button nervously with her mittened hand.
“What?” she asked, meeting the teacher’s displeased stare.
“How many times do I have to ask you to stop running in the schoolroom? Can’t you ever slow down to a nice, normal walk like the rest of the pupils do?” Teacher Katie asked.
“I … I guess I can,” Lizzie stammered. She could hardly meet those piercing eyes, so she scuffed her toe against the wooden floor, looking very hard at the different-colored splinters in the wood.
“Thank you,” Teacher Katie said, turning to the blackboard.
Lizzie wal
ked slowly over to the door, and Betty tiptoed out beside her. There was a lump in Lizzie’s throat, and she felt so much like crying, but she knew she couldn’t because she was too big. I wasn’t even running more than a few steps anyhow, she thought.
“Boy!” Betty said, emphatically.
“I was hardly even running,” Lizzie said, slipping her arm under Betty’s.
“She’s just grouchy today. Did you hear her at lunchtime?” Betty asked.
“You mean telling Amos to pick up the waxed paper from his sandwich?” Lizzie asked.
“Yes,” Betty replied. “She said it so loud and angry. I almost pitied Amos.”
“Oh, well,” Lizzie shrugged. “Maybe she’s tired of teaching school and wishes she could get married.”
“She doesn’t want to get married. She said so,” Betty said.
“Oh,” said Lizzie.
There was a group of children standing on the playground having a loud discussion. Mose Fisher was waving his arms and yelling, and Rebecca yelled back just as loudly. Lizzie stopped to listen to the conversation, scooping up a handful of snow with her mittened hand. She stuck her tongue into the frosty mound scooping up a mouthful. The snow slid down her throat almost before she had a chance to chew or swallow. That was just how snow was, Lizzie thought. It covered everything in sight and if you tried to eat it, it was really nothing. She flung the rest of the snow into the air, and watched as it settled on top of the other snow. She clapped her mittened hands together to shake off the remaining snow, scuffed the toe of her boot into a snowdrift, and sighed.
She was too little to speak her mind with the big children, but she just couldn’t see any sense in school, at recess especially. It was just so awfully boring, because nobody wanted to play anything fun. All the boys ever wanted to do was throw snowballs as hard as they could.
Lizzie was scared of the boys throwing snowballs, so she stayed far away from their forts. Teacher Katie warned them not to hit the little ones or to throw the snowballs too hard, because it could be dangerous. They had all promised they wouldn’t, but Lizzie didn’t really believe them. You just never could tell, with boys.