The fiddler
(Book)

I studied my reflection in the mirror over the sink. Clean-shaven...blond hair cropped just below my ears, with the usual old-fashioned bangs. I looked like all the other young Amishmen I knew. And it made me feel even more lost. Deserting the mirror, I went to kneel beside one of the bunks in the main room. "Hear my prayer for guidance, O God," I whispered, feeling guilty as I was reminded of my disobedience to the wishes of my parents. Could I expect my prayers to reach past the celing? A single gas lantern brightened the gloom. There was really no need for the lantern when the cabin had electricity, but having my old lantern from home reminded me of the very thing that had brought me to this momentous day. Because I knew full well if I continued to walk the fence, I might end up on the other side-the outside, looking in.-- dust jacket flap.