Emiline dreams of being a fair lady. She longs for drama, fashion, cities and fancy tea parties. But as a twelve-year-old, farm girl in the late 1800's, those things seem to be out of her reach. Meanwhile, a mystery begins to grow as she and her bes...
Dorothy dropped her chalk with a clattering noise and darted out of the schoolhouse. The sun warmed her cheeks as she stepped outside, and the wind threw her red curls in every direction. All morning long, she had glanced out of the window, watching the butterflies fluttering past. Now, as the children hurried out with their lunches, Dotty felt wonderfully free.
"Emiline, Susan," she began happily, "do you want to go out into the woods today?" Her eyes glittered with excitement as she imagined herself sitting beneath the big trees and listening to the birds as she ate. Susan and Emma looked at her in surprise. They were sitting on the bottom step of the porch stairs with a book of poems in hand. They had already taken their lunches out of their pails, and Susan was munching on a piece of candy.
"Oh," Emiline began hesitantly. "I would, but..." She looked over at Susan with questioning eyes.
Susan shook her head decidedly. "We can't go to the woods this time," she explained in a cold tone of voice. "We're going to read a poem." The joy in Dotty's eyes began to fade. There was almost a stern look on Susan's face. But in a moment, it softened.
"I'm sorry, Dorothy," she said in a kinder tone. "But I've been waiting to read this poem for a long time."
Emiline pulled Dorothy down beside her and gave her an apologetic look. "We'll go to the woods another day," she said.
Dotty smiled sweetly. She fumbled with the brown paper which her lunch was wrapped in as she listened to Susan reading the book. The girl made the poem sound very pretty, but Dorothy couldn't understand what it was about. Susan might have been speaking in a different language for all she knew. Poetry didn't mean much to the little girl; the words always fell all around her and got lost before she could grasp them.
Lunch break was a happy time in the spring and summer. The children ran all around the school, playing chain tag and throwing balls. Dotty let Susan's voice sound sweetly in the background as she watched the other children playing.
Maybe I could play with them! she thought excitedly. Without a word of explanation, she sprang up from her seat on the steps and approached two girls who were playing ball. She smiled shyly and clasped her hands behind her back as she stepped toward them.
"Can I play with you?" Dotty asked in a quiet voice. The two girls glanced at each other nervously.
"Sorry," they answered with a snobbish air. "Three people can't play ball." That wasn't true. But the girls moved away as quickly as they could and began playing once again.
Dorothy sighed. She didn't know why people didn't like her. She tried to be nice to them, but none of them wanted to be around her. Emiline and Susan were her only friends. She looked back at them for a moment. Emma was listening to the poem with her hands clasped and her eyes closed dreamily. Even if Dotty sat down beside them, they wouldn't talk to her or play with her. They were too busy reading.
At last, the girl shook her sadness away and smiled to herself. Oh well, she thought with growing joy. I can still go to the woods by myself. She glanced down at her old, worn-out shoes and giggled. I couldn't have run around catching the ball with these shoes on anyway.
Without another pause, the girl stuffed her paper-wrapped lunch into her pocket and walked toward the towering pine trees. The needles rustled in the cold breeze, and the sound of rushing water met her ears. The noises made a beautiful kind of music, a type of poetry that Dorothy understood.
"Papa said that God's voice sounds like many waters," she told herself in wonder. A shiver of joyful awe ran through her body as she thought about it. Someday, she was sure that she would hear that amazing voice calling her name. She couldn't wait to know what God sounded like and what he looked like and what he felt like. Sometimes, she would close her eyes and imagine herself sitting in Jesus' lap. It always made her feel safe and happy.
As Dotty dreamed about Heaven and all of the beautiful things there, she wandered further and further into the woods. Soon, the schoolhouse was a long way away, and the noise of the children's chatter was just a soft murmur in the distance. Dorothy looked all around her in surprise. Jagged rocks were towering over her head with moss draping over them. The wide creek was rushing nearby, still rimmed with ice from the fading winter. She gave a delighted gasp.
"I bet no one's ever found this place before!" she exclaimed, turning around and looking backward. She was sure no one could see her. And, unless one of the other children decided to take a long walk, they would never find her either. This was her own little place.
For a moment, she looked around with joyful planning. There was a little spot where the rocks dove in and almost made a cave. Moss and grass hung over the entrance, but there was plenty of light streaming down from above. She could make herself a beautiful playhouse there. And every day, she would come to have lunch.
With haste and excited giggles, the girl got to work. It was a perfect spot to build her playhouse. She swept the pine needles off of the ground with her hands and carpeted her new home with pieces of moss. Then, using all of the strength she had, she rolled two big boulders into the hollow. She piled some soft moss onto one of them to make a cushioned chair, and the other served as her table.
As she finally sat down and unwrapped her lunch, she admired her beautiful new house. Most children kept their playhouses a secret, but Dorothy knew she couldn't keep this one to herself. She couldn't wait to tell Emiline and her father what she had done. Maybe Emma and Susan would even come with her sometimes to have lunch in her little house.
Finishing off the last of her turnips, Dorothy noticed just one problem with her dining room. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "There's only one chair!" She shook her head and clicked her tongue at herself in a scolding way. "That's just terrible," she said. "What would happen if I had a visitor?"
She ran outside quickly and rolled one more big stone into the hollow. Then, stacking soft moss onto the seat for a cushion, she felt very happy. The truth was, none of her schoolmates would have dared to visit Dorothy's playhouse. They thought she was disgusting and dirty. But the little girl always kept hope. She loved to do kind things for people. Someday, she could just see herself in her own little house serving a wonderful luncheon to her own little family.
"Until then," she reasoned, "I'll be prepared just in case." After all, what if someone poor passed by and needed a place to get out of the rain? She smiled to herself, wondering what kind of a person she could invite into her playhouse. She remembered her father reading a Bible verse which said, "Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for some have entertained angels unawares."
Dorothy pushed her luncheon's wrapping paper into her pocket. Then she thought in happy silence for a moment. It would be a wonderful honor to be visited by an angel. She tried to remember what the Bible had said that angels look like. She could imagine them shining like the sun with bright eyes and pure white garments. But when she thought a little longer, she wondered whether the angels would let all of that beauty show or not. Maybe they would come looking like a beggar instead with only rags for clothes and worn-out shoes like her own. Dotty's heart melted with love and pity. She would gladly open her doors to anyone who needed help.
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