“What Time I Am Afraid”
“Halt!” It was a big man in a blue uniform. Rosie tried to run, but her legs wouldn’t move. He grabbed her arm and marched toward a big stone building. She was going to jail!
Rosie jerked away and sat up in bed. It had been a horrible dream.
Elise Thompson had told her all about policemen and jails. Her uncle had been in jail once. Daniel said that the police only caught bad people, but Rosie shivered all over. That big man had seemed so real and terrible.
“Dear Lord, take care of me, and help me, please,” Rosie prayed. “Help me not think about it anymore. Amen.” Rosie curled up in bed, and at last fell asleep.
“Mrs. Thompson called and invited us to go strawberry picking with them,” Mother told them the next morning. The Thompsons were a home-schooling family that they had met last fall. They lived outside of town and often invited the Chapman family over.
“Will Eddy be there?” Daniel asked.
“Can I pick with Elise?” added Rosie.
Mother smiled. “We’ll see.”
At the strawberry field Mother parked next to the Thompson’s car. “I need all of you to have good behavior and not to play around,” she said. Mrs. Thompson came bustling over with her two children and Mother handed out the picking trays.
As she put on her sun hat, Rosie smiled at her friend. Elise’s curly, dark hair made her remember her dream, but it didn’t seem so frightening now. The morning sun made the red berries glow. Picking with Elise would be so much fun!
The lady at the stand didn’t smile when she looked at the crowd of children. “We don’t want any berries smashed. There must be no running in the field,” she said sharply, peering from under her red cap. “And no pulling flags, and—” she stretched her neck like she wanted to peck them, “STAY AWAY from the back fence!” Rosie thought she would stay away from that lady, too.
“She is mean,” Elise whispered, as they walked down the strawberry rows.
“Maybe she doesn’t like us,” Rosie said. “I’m not going to smash any berries, though.”
Elise popped a strawberry in her mouth and smacked her lips. “Yummy! I’m going to pick a whole bucket,” she said. “Mom makes really good strawberry pie and if we make extra she said Eddy and I can sell them.”
“I like strawberry shortcakes best,” Rosie said, dropping three bright berries in her tray. She didn’t mind the scratchy leaves when there were so many things to talk about. Elise said that they had a new trampoline and Rosie told her about the black hen that was sitting on 17 eggs.
“Seventeen eggs!” Elise’s eyes opened wide. Then she laughed. “I like piglets best. Our pig had nine once and they were really cute.”
Irene was catching up with them now, and all the big strawberries had been picked. “Let’s find a new spot,” Rosie suggested.
“No one is picking in that corner,” Elise said, pointing to the other side of the boys. They hopped over six rows and then walked to the end of the field. There weren’t many berries and the girls’ backs were soon tired.
“They should have a drinking fountain here,” Elise panted, flopping down in the tall grass. “Let’s go ask that lady.”
“I’m not going to,” Rosie said with a frown. The booth lady had reminded Rosie of a fighting cock she had seen once. “Let’s go sit in the shade for awhile,” she suggested, walking over to a tall bush.
“What are you doing?” Eddy called, coming up behind them. “Are you going to see the pigs?”
“What pigs?” Rosie asked.
“On the other side of those bushes,” he said, biting into a berry. “They grunt like anything when you come near them.”
“Oh, let’s go look!” Elise said quickly. Rosie followed her friend behind the bushes and found herself staring at three black pigs. When they spotted the girls they began pressing their snouts under an old wire fence.
Rosie stepped back, clutching her strawberry tray. The pigs opened their mouths and grunted. “Oh, they’re hungry,” Elise said, holding out a berry. With a wild snort the biggest pig toppled over the fence and knocked over Elise’s bucket.
“Run!” Dropping her strawberries Rosie dashed around the bushes with Elise on her heels. They didn’t stop until they were halfway down the field.
“Is it coming?”
“Shhh! It’s eating my berries, and maybe it will stay there,” Elise answered, crouching down next to her.
“What will the lady say?” Rosie asked.
Elise clutched her arm. “You better not tell her!” It reminded Rosie of the terrible policeman and she shivered.
“Will she call the police on us?”
“Probably. She could send us to jail for sure. I’m going to tell Mom that my bucket got broken. You better be quiet, or else we’ll be in big trouble.” Elise got up and began walking quickly toward the moms.
Rosie stared after her, her heart thumping. What should she do? She couldn’t lie. But if she told Mom what happened, she would tell the lady, and then—Rosie shivered again. She could just see the jail bars.
“What time I am afraid….” (Psalm 56:3) It was a Bible verse she memorized once. How did it go? Something about trusting God. Rosie stopped and pressed her hands together. “Dear Father in Heaven, help me to say the truth. And keep me safe. Amen.”
Mother was carrying berries toward the van. Rosie almost ran down the rows toward her. “Mama, Mama!” she almost sobbed. “There is a pig out—we didn’t mean to, but it climbed the fence and got our strawberries—and, oh! Don’t let the lady call the police—I think Chad can catch it and—”
“Calm yourself, dear,” Mother said. “I don’t know anything about a pig. Please explain what has happened from the beginning.” So Rosie poured out the whole story, including what Elise had said.
“We will tell the lady right away and she won’t call the police,” Mother said firmly. “I am sorry that Elise is afraid to do right, but I am very happy that my little girl was brave.”
Rosie smiled through her tears. “I was afraid to tell the truth, too, but God helped me,” she whispered.