Lizzy stirred in her cozy bed as the first rays of sunlight hit her lids, savoring the warmth for just a few moments longer before her eyes flew open with the realization of what day it was. Excitement jolting her awake, Lizzy flung back the covers and clambered to kneel for her morning prayers.

“Thank you, Father, for giving me my life, my family, and this day!”

The girl’s voice rose almost to a squeal by the time she reached the end of her thanks and she was down the stairs in a flash.

“Mama!” Lizzy sang as she swung around the end of the banister just as she had so many mornings before.

A woman with silver-streaked brown hair bustled about in the kitchen, thoroughly drying off the dishes she’d just washed before setting them on the wooden table next to a basket of fresh, beautiful green apples.

Lizzy bounced up to her mother as she moved to set another dried bowl on the stack, giving her a kiss on the cheek and a hug so enthusiastic that it almost threatened to send the dish crashing down.

“Good morning, mama,” Lizzy said, swiping one of the bright green apples with a twinkle in her eyes despite the warning look she was given.

“Oh, Lord, give me strength,” Lizzy’s mother said with a shake of her head. “Good morning, bright, energetic, mischievous daughter of mine. Have you finished your pray-”

“Yes! I’m all done.”

“Don’t interrupt, child” Lizzy’s mother childed gently, but her brow remained soft as she looked towards her daughter with fondness. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth even while her eyes began to brim. Luckily, her daughter was too caught up in the excitement of the morning to notice before she had the chance to blink back her tears.

Lizzy took a bite of her apple, delighting in the crisp crunch and tart flavor as she turned towards the kitchen window. She gazed dreamily over the field where the sun peeked over the horizon, her mind swirling with anticipation and questions about all that was to come. Before Lizzy knew it, she was bouncing in place, repeatedly squeaking the floorboards beneath her feet.

“Oh, you either put some of that energy to work helping me here in the kitchen or take it outside!” her mother said, shaking her head once more.

With a giggle and a wrinkle of her nose, Lizzy skipped outside to say good-morning to the rest of the family and avoid any extra chores.

Lizzy soon located her father between the house and the barn with their buggy. Their two horses stood idly nearby, their leads fixed to the nearest fencepost with enough room for them to graze while they waited. The chestnut horse nickered and pawed lightly at the ground while she approached, earning a gentle shush from her father.

“Good morning, Papa!” Lizzy called out, her eyes eagerly focused on where he was tinkering with the carriage. Narrowing her eyes playfully at the horses as they eyed her apple greedily, she crouched slightly and waited for her father to stand to his full height. The instant he turned around, she flung herself into his arms, giving him a rough bear hug.

“Mercy, mercy--careful there, Lizzy!” he cried, the lines around his eyes crinkling slightly with a smile, “I’m not as young as I once was, you know! You must be more careful with me than that.”

Despite her father’s words, Lizzy soon felt his strong arms lift her off the ground in a hug of his own, spinning her around once before setting her back on her feet.

“I just love you a lot, Papa. May I ask what you are doing?”

“Well, I love you too, my dear,” came the reply as the seasoned farmer dusted off his hands deliberately, “And I’m fiddling with this wagon shaft. I’ll start working on a new one tomorrow, but we need the wagon to work properly today either way, wouldn’t you agree? Do you mind helping a frail, old man find a quick solution?”

Lizzy giggled once again and nodded, breaking the half-eaten remains of her apple in two and giving one piece to each horse.

“What can I do to help?” she asked, wiping her sticky fingers on her frock, although a quick glance at the thin beam of wood that normally connected the buggy with the horses’ harnesses revealed the problem: A split had started at one end of the shaft that would only get worse on the long ride ahead of them.

“Please go to the barn and fetch me that spare leather strap.”

“Yes, Papa!” Lizzy replied brightly, a purposeful spring in her step while she made her way to the barn.

“Just behind the door and to the left!” her father called after her.

But Lizzy already knew where it was. In a matter of moments she came sauntering back, proudly displaying the leather strap as requested. Her father took it from her with a smile, holding the split shaft together around the joint with his calloused hands and wrapping it with the strap, biting down firmly on one end of the leather as he pulled to keep it taut.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Lizzy watched his every move with bright eyes, drinking in as much knowledge as she could.

Right as he finished tightly reinforcing the shaft and securing his work with a beautifully-tied Amish farmer’s knot, his wife called from the house:

“Abraham! Lizzy! Come on in, breakfast is ready!”

And, just like that, Lizzy was off in a flash again. She struggled to keep from bouncing in place on the creaky floorboards once more as her stomach growled in anticipation of the beautiful meal that her mother seemed to have arranged with lightning speed as usual. The smell of freshly-cooked eggs and pot pie with steaming beef gravy and Friendship Bread immediately made Lizzy forget all about the apple she’d just snacked on.

“Thank you, Esther,” Lizzy heard her father say from the doorway as he hung up his hat before moving to sit at the table, “This looks wonderful, as always.”

Lizzy sneakily reached to steal a flake of the hot, buttery pie crust, hoping to get away with it unnoticed. Fresh pot pie crust was her favorite. However, her mother slapped her hand away gently but firmly before she could get very far.

“I’m happy to do it, of course,” Esther said primly, motioning for Lizzy to sit in her place by the table and wait patiently. She caught her husband’s eye with a small smile and shook her head slowly, giving him a knowing look that made it clear how much of his spirit she saw in their daughter. The weathered farmer smiled back with a sigh, wordlessly stroking his beard as he got comfortable in his seat.

Esther finished handing out forks and then sat with her family as they all clasped hands in a circle to pray before their meal. Abraham cleared his throat and began:

“Oh Lord, we thank you for this food and for the opportunity to enjoy it together as a family. May we use the strength it gives us only for your service. Amen.”

Esther raised her head to give Lizzy a warning eye and add emphasis to the final point as they concluded their prayers.

“And don’t you forget it, daughter! I don’t want you going wild out there. Your rumspringa is meant to help you broaden your perspective, not dive into dangerous vices with wild abandon. Don’t do anything you’d be ashamed to tell me about later!”

Lizzy nodded her head in acknowledgement of her mother’s words even though her eyes were fixed on the serving spoon as it delivered a hefty helping of pot pie to her father’s plate. The hungry girl gripped her fork as a generous serving of food made its way onto her own plate as well, beaming at her mother to express her thanks before digging in.

“I know, Mama. I don’t want to try anything bad, I just want to see what everything is like! Can you tell me more about the city?”

Esther winced slightly as she saw her daughter shovel in a mouthful of pot pie before fully finishing her question.

“Eating and speaking should remain two separate tasks, child,” she admonished.

“I’m sorry,” Lizzy said after swallowing, trying her hardest to show that her apology was genuine even though she was eager to charge ahead with her curiosity, “But please, won’t you tell me? What’s it like there?”

“Very different from when I was there myself, I imagine,” Esther remarked with a slightly furrowed brow. She paused for a moment after dishing out her own breakfast, sharing a questioning look with her husband as she placed the serving spoon carefully back in the pot pie dish.

Lizzy relished in the way her mother’s pie crust seemed to melt in her mouth the instant it met her tongue, not noticing her father’s subtle nod of affirmation.

“Lizzy,” Esther began, pausing until her daughter finished her bite to make sure she was really paying attention, “As I’m sure you’ve heard from other members of our community, things have changed a great deal during the past few years. There have always been stark differences between the tools we use and those of the outside world, but those differences have grown very much over the past decade or two. There have been some remarkable inventions since I went to the city on my own rumspringa when I was your age.”

Lizzy nodded attentively while she temporarily pushed aside her half-eaten helping of pot pie to dig into her eggs, listening carefully and wondering what her mother was getting at. After a brief moment’s pause, Abraham set his fork down and cleared his throat quietly before contributing to the conversation.

“I’ve been told that, with the invention of Virtual Reality, there have come all manner of games like you cannot imagine. Much more advanced and convincing than the video games that your mother and I tried when we came of age.”

Esther dipped her head in agreement with her husband’s words and quickly launched into her own explanation:

“Virtual Reality is apparently very intense--so intense that it can even feel real, like whatever you’re doing is actually happening. So, please: From a moral standpoint, be careful! I must admit that I’m not sure where our Lord stands on the actions you carry out in games, but I’d urge you to avoid doing anything in Virtual Reality that you wouldn’t do in real life. God knows what’s in your heart even if your actions don’t have real-life consequences.”

Lizzy digested her parents’ words as she circled back to her pot pie--the last item on her plate by now. She struggled silently for a moment with how to phrase her next question, not wanting to imply a level of rebellion that might get her in trouble but unable to go without asking.

“If I really did want to try something risky, wouldn’t it be better to do it in Virtual Reality than in real life?”

Lizzy’s mother let out a long, tired-sounding exhale, shaking her head.

“Now look here, daughter: That is a dangerous question to play around with. I cannot condone you doing anything risky or immoral anywhere, no matter whether it supposedly counts in real life or not. That means no violence or other wicked acts--and absolutely no VR sex!”

Abraham coughed somewhat awkwardly and washed his bread down with a bit of water. Lizzy’s eyes traveled between her parents’ faces, searching for any hints that might shed some light on the topic, but was only met with a somewhat tense silence.

“What’s VR sex?” Lizzy finally asked. Luckily for Abraham, whose eyes were firmly fixed on his plate, Esther was all too happy to respond:

“You’ll find out. And when you do, don’t do it!”