Whose boys are those with the holes in their pants?”I cringed. How would my grandpa answer such an embarrassing question?”Those are my daughter’s children, my grandchildren,” Grandpa spoke as if he’d just been asked who had won first place in a foot race or just been baptized into the church.”Those pants are very well ironed,” the stranger said.

Whose boys are those with the holes in their pants?”I cringed. How would my grandpa answer such an embarrassing question?”Those are my daughter’s children, my grandchildren,” Grandpa spoke as if he’d just been asked who had won first place in a foot race or just been baptized into the church.”Those pants are very well ironed,” the stranger said.

– Elizabeth Byler Younts –

Seasons: A Real Story of an Amish Girl

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