Life with Lily (20 page)

Read Life with Lily Online

Authors: Mary Ann Kinsinger,Suzanne Woods Fisher

Tags: #JUV033010, #Amish—Fiction, #Family life—New York (State)—Fiction, #Schools—Fiction, #Friendship—Fiction, #New York (State)—Fiction

33
Pumpkins!

T
risha and Lily stood in front of Jim, stroking his velvety nose, as Mama showed Trisha's father the baked goods she had made to sell. Every week, Trisha's father chose a loaf of bread and a different kind of pie.

He handed Mama some cash and turned to the girls. “How would the two of you like to go to the pumpkin patch on Monday?”

Trisha jumped up and down. “Oh, yes!” she said, grasping Lily's hands. “We would like that!”

Mama tucked the money safely into her money box. She smiled when she saw Trisha's excitement. Lily couldn't imagine what would be so wonderful about going to a pumpkin patch. To her, it sounded like a big garden filled with pumpkins. Boring!

“Daniel and I were planning to take our spring wagon to get a load of pumpkins after he gets home from work,”
Mama said. “We can stop by so Trisha could ride along with us or we can meet at the pumpkin patch.”

“Please, Daddy! Please can I ride with them?” Trisha asked.

Larry Smith shrugged a shoulder. “Sure. As long as they don't mind and have plenty of room.”

Mama smiled. “We'll see you late Monday afternoon.” She untied Jim's rope from the tree and climbed in the buggy to drive down the street to their next customer.

“Mama, why do you need the wagon to bring home a pumpkin?” Lily said.

“We'll be getting a lot of pumpkins on Monday,” Mama said. “And then I can bake pumpkin pie, pumpkin rolls with cream cheese filling, and pumpkin bread. We can eat some and sell the rest.”

Lily's eye grew wide. She thought of all the good things Mama would be making with those pumpkins. She thought of how spicy and cinnamony the house would smell! And then she wondered what Trisha's family would do with all their pumpkins. They didn't bake. They always bought Mama's baked goods to feed their family.

On Monday, as soon as Papa came home from work, he hitched Jim to the spring wagon. It had one seat in the front and a long wooden wagon bed with low sides. There was no roof. Papa helped Mama climb up over the front wheel and sit on the seat, then lifted Dannie up to her. He placed several blankets on the wagon bed for Joseph and Lily to sit on, and added another blanket so Trisha would have something to sit on after they picked her up.

The autumn air was crisp and cold as they drove along. Now and then, Lily smelled a farmer's burning leaves in the air. Joseph's nose looked red and chilled; Lily knew hers probably looked the same.

As Papa pulled Jim to a stop in front of Trisha's house, she ran out to greet them. She had been watching for them in the window. Her father walked out behind her and hoisted her into the back of the spring wagon. Lily showed her how to stay nice and warm while curling up inside a blanket nest.

It was a short drive to the pumpkin patch. Lily was surprised by its size. It was much bigger than a garden. There were pumpkins as far as she could see. Big ones, little ones, fat ones, tall ones. Their vibrant orange color made the field look like a patchwork quilt. She saw many other people walking around the patch, trying to choose pumpkins. They only chose one or two. Lily felt sorry for them. Those poor people wouldn't be getting very many pumpkin pies and other good baked things with only one or two pumpkins. She was glad that Papa and Mama were getting a big load of pumpkins.

Papa tied Jim to a tree while he and Mama gathered pump
kins. Trisha's father drove in a car behind the wagon. Trisha helped her father try to find the pumpkins they liked best.

It took an hour, but finally the spring wagon was piled up with pumpkins. There was no room for Lily and Joseph to sit in the back to ride home so Papa folded the blankets and put them under the seat.

“Where will we sit?” Lily asked.

“You and Joseph will have to stand in front of Mama and me and hold on to the dashboard,” Papa said.

Lily quickly climbed up on the wagon seat to reach her favorite standing spot, on the edge, before Joseph could claim it. The middle was the best place for him anyway, she thought. That was the best place for a small boy.

While Papa paid for the pumpkins, Lily waved goodbye to Trisha and her father. Poor Trisha. How sad. They left with only two medium-sized pumpkins.

At home, Papa and Mama carried the pumpkins into the basement so they would be easy to get to when Mama was ready to bake.

The next morning, Mama cut the pumpkins open with a big sharp knife and scooped out the seeds. She cut the pumpkins into chunks, put them into a big pot, poured water over them, and set them on the stove. After the pumpkin chunks had boiled for a long time, she carefully drained the pot of hot water. She scooped all the soft pumpkin flesh out of their shells and into a large bowl. She cut and cooked pumpkins until the big bowl was towered high with soft, boiled pumpkin chunks.

Then came the fun part. Mama got the Victoria strainer out of the cupboard and fastened it together. She clamped it to the table and placed the large funnel on top and a big bowl under it. She spooned the pumpkin chunks into the
funnel and started to crank the handle. A thick orange mush squeezed out of the strainer, slid down the special tray, and plopped into the bowl. When the last of the pumpkin chunks had made their way through the strainer, the big bowl was filled to the very top. The pureed pumpkin was now ready to be used for Mama's baking.

Mama's pumpkin pies were the best, the very best. Mama mixed everything together for the pie filling in only one bowl. After it had been baked, there was a layer of good, sweet pumpkin filling on the bottom and a fluffy, foamy pumpkin layer on top. Lily could not understand how that happened in the oven. She wanted to peek inside to see when it turned into two layers of pumpkin, but Mama said no.

Mama was busy with something else. She had baked very thin pumpkin cakes. She spread cream cheese filling on top and rolled them up to make a pretty log with a white swirl in the middle. Lily wanted to help, but Mama said that they had to look perfect to sell.

“I'm sorry, Lily,” she said. “When you're older, then you can help.” She handed Lily a few scraps of pie dough and a little rolling pin. “Why don't you make a nice little pumpkin pie for Papa?”

Lily carefully rolled out the pie dough and placed it into a little pie pan. Mama spooned some pie filling into it and popped it into the oven. Lily couldn't wait to give Papa a pumpkin pie that she had made all by herself. He would be so happy.

On Saturday morning, Lily went with Mama to peddle all the good pumpkin baked goods she had made. The whole buggy smelled like pumpkin, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Lily thought it would be nice to stop now and then to sample some of those things that smelled so good, but Mama kept right on going.

Trisha's neighborhood was always the first stop. The people who lived on Trisha's street seemed to be on the lookout for Mama's buggy today. They hurried out of their houses, eager to see what she had baked. Lily was sure it was because they could smell the sweet spices floating from the back of the buggy.

By the time Mama tied Jim to a tree, Trisha was already at the buggy. “Mrs. Lapp, can I show our pumpkins to Lily?” Trisha asked.

Lily had been wondering what Trisha had made with the pumpkins her father had bought at the pumpkin patch. Mama gave Lily permission and she ran with Trisha to the house. As Lily neared the front porch, she stopped abruptly. The two beautiful pumpkins they had picked at the pumpkin patch were ugly and scary. Someone had cut a big ugly mouth with jagged crooked teeth and triangle-shaped eyes into them. One had a big grin, but it still looked like an ugly jeer to Lily. The other one was worse—a big glaring frown on it. It reminded her of Teacher Katie's scowls.

Trisha was so happy and excited about these ugly pumpkins. She looked at Lily and her smile faded. “Don't you like them?”

Lily wasn't sure how to answer. She didn't want to hurt Trisha's feelings, but these pumpkins were hideous. Awful! Why would anybody do such a thing to a nice pumpkin? She stood quietly looking at them. “Weren't they hard to cut?” It didn't look easy when Mama was cutting the pumpkins into chunks.

“Daddy likes carving pumpkins,” Trisha said. She seemed disappointed by Lily's lack of enthusiasm.

Lily heard Mama call her name, so she turned to go back to the buggy. Trisha followed behind to stroke Jim's nose,
but Trisha's parents had their arms filled with baked goods and were ready to go back inside. Trisha was only able to give Jim a quick pat.

Lily told Mama about those ugly pumpkins as they drove down the street to another neighborhood. “Why would Trisha's papa cut scary faces into their pumpkins and then set them on their porch for everyone to see?”

“They're called jack-o-lanterns,” Mama said. “A lot of people like to carve pumpkins for Halloween. The children dress up in costumes and go from door to door, saying ‘trick or treat,' and collect candy from their neighbors. The Amish don't celebrate Halloween.”

“Why not?” Lily thought Halloween sounded like fun. She liked dressing up and she loved candy.

“We want to glorify God in everything we do and we don't feel celebrating Halloween does that. But English people weren't raised the same way. They think it's only a fun tradition. What is okay for them would be wrong for us, but we must never think it is wrong for them.”

Lily thought about Halloween and Trisha's pumpkins for the rest of the morning. She was glad they didn't have those scary-looking pumpkins on their porch. She didn't like those pumpkins. But she did like candy. Collecting candy from neighbors would be very nice. Candy, Lily thought, was always a good thing.

34
The Sewing Machine

O
n a cold and rainy morning in late October, Mama set Lily to work on a science lesson. Yesterday, Mama had Lily gather all the different leaves she could find in the yard. Mama taught Lily how to identify the trees from the leaves. Lily's task was to label each leaf and write some information about each tree. Lily had just spread all of the leaves on her desk when a knock came on the front door.

“Keep working until I get back,” Mama said, pointing to Lily and Joseph.

Lily wished she could go downstairs and see who had come by for a visit. Instead, she was fastening a large oak leaf to her book. She tried to think of something she knew about oak trees. THEY HAVE ACORNS, she wrote in her careful handwriting. She finished that sentence and couldn't think of anything else about oak trees. She knew how to spell many words, some of them important. Words like DOLLHOUSE
and RED DRESS and PUMPKIN COOKIES. But she didn't know any other words about oak trees. She tiptoed to the door to see if she could hear who Mama's visitor was, but she heard Mama come up the stairs so she scurried back to her desk.

Mama raised an eyebrow at Lily when she came back to the room they used for school. How did Mama seem to know everything? It was a mystery.

“Helen Young was at the door,” Mama said. “She wondered if Jenny might have extra milk to spare. She'd like to buy a quart of fresh milk from us three times a week. Lily, I told her I would send you over tomorrow with a quart.”

“I could take her some now,” Lily offered, trying to sound helpful. She had run out of oak tree knowledge after ACORNS and would rather go play.

“I set out all our milk to sour this morning or I would have given her some,” Mama said. Every week, Mama would let some of Jenny's milk sour to make all kinds of delicious-tasting butter, yogurts, and a variety of cheeses: cottage cheese, cheese curds, hard cheese to slice, and Lily's favorite, “smear kase.” It spread like peanut butter or honey, and was used in the winter on top of fresh bread. “Tomorrow, you can take some milk to Helen Young. For now, back to the oak tree project.”

As Lily wrote another sentence about oak trees—SQUIRRELS LIKE TO EAT ACORNS—she looked forward to taking the milk to Helen Young's. She liked Helen Young, but she did hope Harold Young wouldn't be at home. She still thought he was frightful. Always scowling! And she hadn't forgotten that shotgun he had pointed at Papa. That was hard to forget.

The next day, after school, Mama poured some fresh sweet
milk into a clean quart jar. She wrapped it into a towel and placed it in a little box. “Set the box in our little red wagon,” she said. “That way you won't spill a single drop.”

Lily and Joseph held the handle of the wagon and pulled it down the driveway and up the road to the Youngs' house. Lily was happy to hear the roaring sound of Harold Young's tractor, far off in his field.

Helen Young met them at the door. “Why, it's my milk delivery!” she said. “Come in, come in. You must be hungry after walking over here. Let me get you some cookies.”

Lily and Joseph stepped into the warm and friendly kitchen. Lily had never been in an English person's kitchen. It was fascinating! Frilly white curtains, embroidered with strawberries, framed the window. A big white refrigerator purred noisily next to the kitchen counter. On the front of the refrigerator were magnets that held pictures of children and other people. The room was bright too. Lights were on even though it was a sunny day. Several pictures hung on the walls. Artificial vines with strawberries and strawberry blossoms twined and twisted together and draped above the pictures. A big soft rug was under the table and chairs. Lily wondered how Helen Young kept the kitchen looking so clean. At home, one of Lily's jobs was to sweep the crumbs around the table after every meal. How did Helen Young sweep the rug? Maybe Harold and Helen Young didn't get crumbs on the floor when they ate. Maybe they were tidier eaters than Joseph and Dannie.

Helen put the quart of milk into the refrigerator. Lily was amazed to see a light inside the refrigerator. What a good idea! It was so much easier to see what was inside. On the counter sat a big white cookie jar. It had strawberries on it too. Lily thought Helen Young must love strawberries best of all. Everywhere Lily looked, she saw strawberries.

Helen took some cookies out of the cookie jar and handed them to Lily and Joseph. Lily had never seen such a tiny cookie. It fit into the palm of her hand. She could get the whole cookie inside her mouth with just one bite, though she knew that would be rude. It would take four or five of these cookies to make one of Mama's.

Now Lily realized why all the English people made a fuss over Mama's baked goods. They must eat only tiny cookies. What a wonderful surprise it must be for them to discover Mama's big cookies!

Lily nibbled her cookie slowly. When it was finished, she motioned to Joseph that they should leave. On the way home, Lily spotted a bunch of goldenrod flowers growing beside the road. She stopped to pick them for Mama. Mama liked every kind of flower and would be happy to get their bouquet.

Every other day, Joseph and Lily took a quart of fresh milk to the Youngs'. Harold Young was never at the house. He always seemed to be out in his fields, which made Lily happy. Each time, Helen Young would invite them inside for a treat. Helen Young always had a gift for them—often tiny cookies or miniature bars, but other times, she had stickers or some unusual rocks. Lily looked forward to seeing what surprise Helen Young had for them. One time, she gave them a box of new crayons. Taking milk to Helen Young felt like a little bit of Christmas to Lily. Papa and Mama always said it was better to give than to receive, but Lily thought it was much more fun to receive.

One day, Helen Young didn't have anything waiting on the table for Lily and Joseph, like she usually did when they brought milk to her. Instead, she put the milk into the refrigerator and asked them to come into the living room.

Lily and Joseph followed her. Lily hadn't gone into the living room before. She tried not to stare, but it was decorated even prettier than the strawberries in the kitchen. A big soft sofa and matching chairs with plump pillows scattered on them. Helen Young walked over to a black sewing machine. The word Singer was written in gold lettering on the top of it.

“This used to be my grandmother's sewing machine,” Helen Young said. She placed a hand on the top of the machine. “It's a treadle machine. She used to pump the treadle with her foot while she sewed clothes.” She looked at the machine. “I never use it. It only stitches straight lines. It just collects dust.” She looked up at Lily. “If you think your parents wouldn't mind, I'd like to give it to you.”

Lily's eyes went wide. A sewing machine of her very own? Oh, what a wonderful surprise! She hoped Papa and Mama would say yes. They simply
had
to say yes. She had to have this beautiful black machine!

Helen Young smiled. “I'll write a note to take to your parents.” She burst into a laugh. “Lily, if your eyes get any wider, you'll need a bigger face.” She sat at the kitchen table and wrote a note, then handed it to Lily.

Lily walked slowly and calmly out of the house. As soon as they were out of sight of the Youngs' house, she started to run. Joseph pulled the wagon along, trying to keep up with her as it bounced and clattered behind him. Today, Lily didn't stop to find pretty flowers or leaves to take home for Mama. All that Lily could think of was to get that note to Mama as soon as she could. They ran until they were too tired to run any longer and then walked the rest of the way.

“You put the wagon away this time, Joseph,” Lily said as she bolted up the porch steps. She let the door bang shut behind her and ran to give the note to Mama.

But Mama wouldn't take the note from Lily. “Go open the door and close it nicely,” she said, eyebrow raised.

Lily knew they weren't allowed to let the doors bang. She hurried back to open and close the door quietly. Then, she handed Mama the note. Mama read it and tucked it into her pocket. She didn't say a word.

But Lily couldn't leave it at that. She simply had to know! “Mama, will you let me have the sewing machine?”

“I'll talk to Papa about it first.” Mama turned her attention to her quilting.

Lily sat by the window. Gray clouds hung heavy in the sky. She wished it would start raining so Papa would come home early. He couldn't do carpentry work in the rain.
Rain, rain, rain
, Lily wished, squeezing her eyes shut. But when she opened her eyes, the ground was dry.

The afternoon dragged on. Finally, Mama put away her thread and needles and started getting supper ready. Lily watched for Papa by the front window. When she saw him, she ran outside to meet him and tell him about the special note in Mama's pocket.

Papa looked a little curious as Mama handed it to him. Lily watched anxiously as he read it.

A big smile spread over Papa's face. “I think I can go pick it up tonight just as soon as we're done with the chores.”

Lily jumped up and down. She would be getting her very own sewing machine! Mama could teach her how to sew! She already knew what she wanted to make. A red dress for her doll, Sally.

The next morning, Lily brought Sally downstairs and sat in front of her new sewing machine. Her feet couldn't quite touch the treadle. If she stood, she could push her foot to make the needle move up and down. A little awkward for
her, but she could manage. After all, she had an important job to do today! “Mama, I'm ready.”

Mama popped her head out of the kitchen. “For what?”

“To sew Sally clothes!”

Mama looked at Lily as if she were trying not to laugh. She wiped her hands on a rag and came into the living room. “Lily, when you are learning something new, you have to start at the beginning.”

“I know,” Lily said. “So I thought we could make Sally a red dress.”

Mama shook her head. “We're going to start with a nine-patch square for a quilt for Sally.”

A nine-patch square? For a dumb little quilt? Lily was so disappointed. Quilting was boring. Mama pulled out some
extra fabric, some scissors, and a little square template. “Before you start to use the sewing machine, you need to cut your patches, nice and straight.”

When Mama went back into the kitchen, Lily whispered to Sally, “I'm sorry, Sally. Soon, I will make you a red dress.” She looked at the stack of fabric, the scissors, the square template. Boring!

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