Amish Beginnings

by Vannetta Chapman

  “What can we do?” Nathaniel asked.

  “I’ll be talking to the Leit about making a plan for taking care of the boy. I suggest you do the same. He has done well at your farm, Nathaniel.” Reuben sighed and looked at Esther. “The two of you need to think about the ways you have helped the boy and ways you can in the future.”

  “We will,” Esther said at the same time Nathaniel did. “Will that be enough to convince an Englisch social worker Jacob’s place is here among us?”

  The bishop looked steadily from her to Nathaniel. “We must heed the lesson in the Book of Proverbs. ‘Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths.’ He knows what lies ahead and is here to guide us.”

  “What else can we do?”

  She expected Reuben to answer, but instead Nathaniel did. “We must believe our combined efforts and prayer are enough to touch an Englisch woman’s heart and open her eyes to the truth that Jacob’s home is with us.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Esther closed the teacher’s edition of the fifth graders’ textbook. She rubbed her tired eyes and looked out at the star-strewn sky. It wasn’t late, just after supper, but sunset was so early this time of year. As the weather grew colder, the stars became brighter and somehow felt closer to her window. She leaned back in her chair and turned out the propane light hissing on her bedroom table.

  Instantly the sky seemed a richer black, and the stars burned more fiercely. She sat straighter when a shooting star raced across the sky. Englischers made wishes on them, but that was a kind’s game.

  What would she wish if she believed in such silliness? For hearts to be healed, most especially Jacob’s. The boy had been stoic during his onkel’s funeral, but she’d seen the anger in his eyes when he didn’t think anyone was looking at him. He’d started getting into fights at school again and seemed to think everyone was against him. Nothing Esther said made a difference.

  You should discuss this with Nathaniel. The thought had nagged her every day for the past week. She’d spoken with him a few times during the funeral, but otherwise she’d avoided him. It was cowardly, she knew, but allowing herself to be drawn to him again would be foolish. He wanted to play the field.

  She heard her name shouted up the stairs. “Esther, a call came at the barn for you.”

  “For me?” She had no idea who’d use the phone to contact her.

  Micah answered, “Ja. Jacob Fisher called. A cria is coming, and they could use your help.”

  Esther didn’t hesitate. Jumping to her feet, she grabbed a thick wool shawl from the chest by her bed and picked up the bag of supplies she’d packed. She ran down the stairs, barely missing Micah who stood at the bottom.

  “Jeremiah is getting your buggy ready,” he said.

  “Danki.” She didn’t add anything else as she raced into the kitchen, snatched her bonnet and set it on her head with one hand while opening the door with the other.

  The ride to Nathaniel’s farm seemed longer in the darkness. There wasn’t much traffic, but she slowed at the crest of each hill in case a vehicle was coming. She wasn’t worried solely about Englisch cars. Despite Alvin Lee’s accident, others might foolishly be racing their buggies tonight.

  She breathed a sigh of relief when she pulled into Nathaniel’s farm lane. The house was dark, but light shone from the barn. She jumped from her buggy, collected her bag and ran in. She started to call out to Nathaniel and Jacob, but clamped her lips closed when she saw the astounding sight in front of her.

  In the glow of several lanterns arranged around the barn, Nathaniel stood inside the alpacas’ pen, his back to her. He was staring at Jacob. The boy was surrounded by the herd, which seemed to be seeking his attention. He stroked one, then another. None of them shied from his touch. His face was glowing with happiness.

  She wanted to praise him for his patience in letting the alpacas come to him. She stayed silent because the sound of her voice might send the excitable creatures fleeing, and that could be dangerous for the one in labor.

  Crossing the barn, she opened the gate so she could stand beside Nathaniel. He glanced at her with a wide grin before looking at the boy.

  Jacob pushed his way through the herd and loped over to the gate. “Did you see that?”

  “You’re a wunderbaar friend to the alpacas,” Esther said, then laughed when one of the braver ones trotted after him, clearly hoping he had something for her to eat. “They’ve discovered that.”

  “Ja. I like them, and they like me.” His eyes glowed with joy.

  “Well done,” Nathaniel said, clapping his hand on the boy’s shoulder with the respect one man showed another.

  Esther looked at one corner of the pen where a young alpaca was lying on her side. Nathaniel started to give her a report on the alpaca’s labor. She waved him to silence.

  “Let the mamm alpaca do what she needs to,” she said as she knelt in the hay by the gate.

  “Shouldn’t we do something?” asked Jacob.

  “She should do well by herself. If she needs help, we’ll be here to offer it. Otherwise, we’ll watch and cheer when her cria comes.”

  “That’s it?” asked Nathaniel.

  “Alpacas have been giving birth on their own in the wild forever. She’ll do fine.”

  Though Esther saw doubt on their faces, the alpaca proved her right when, about ten minutes later, the cria made its entrance, nose and front legs first. Within moments of its head’s appearance, the cria was born. It sniffed the world, trying to find out more about it. The alpaca stretched to nose her newborn. A couple of the other alpacas came over to do the same, but she stood and got between them and her cria.

  “Wait here,” Esther whispered as she carried her bag closer to the boppli.

  The mamm shied away, but not too far, her eyes remaining on the cria. Speaking in a low, steady voice, Esther opened the bag and withdrew a sling hooked to a handheld scale. She carefully lifted the unsteady cria into the sling and held it up.

  “She’s sixteen pounds,” Esther said with a smile. “A gut size for a female cria.” Lowering the boppli to the hay, she crooked a finger at Jacob. “Come over and see her.”

  “The mamm won’t care?”

  “They trust you now. Move slowly and don’t get between her and the cria.”

  The boy crept closer. “She’s cute.”

  “Would you like to pick out a name for her?” Nathaniel asked.

  “Me?” His grin stretched his cheeks. “You want me to name the cria?”

  “If you want to. Take a few days and think it over.”

  “Ja,” Esther said. “Right now, the cria isn’t going to do much other than eat and sleep. Her mamm will take care of her, but in a few days, the cria will be running about and playing.”

  Jacob considered that, then asked, “What if something happens to her mamm?”

  Esther wiped her hands on the towel Nathaniel held out to her. “She’s healthy, and she should live a long time. Some live until they’re twenty years old.”

  “My mamm wasn’t much older when she died.”

  Esther couldn’t move as she stared at the kind who was regarding her and Nathaniel with an acceptance beyond his years. Yet she saw the pain he was again trying to hide. Jacob seldom spoke of his parents and never this directly.

  “We’ll watch over the cria,” she replied, “and we won’t be the only ones. God keeps a loving eye on all of us.”

  “Not me.”

  Nathaniel started to say, “Of course He—”

  Esther halted him. One thing she’d learned as a teacher and as an aenti, trying to tell kinder their feelings were wrong got her nowhere.

  “Why do you think God doesn’t look out for you?” she asked.

  “Why would He? He knows how furiou
s I am with Him. He let my mamm and daed die, and He let me live so I can’t be with them.”

  Squatting in front of the kind, she put her hands on his shoulders. “We have to believe, no matter what happens, God loves us.”

  “But if He loved me, why...?” His voice cracked as tears filled his eyes that had been joyous moments before.

  “Why did He take your parents? I can’t give you an answer, Jacob. There are things we can’t know now. That’s what faith is. Believing in God’s gut and loving ways when our own hearts are broken.”

  “I miss them.” He leaned into her, reforming his body to fit against hers.

  “I know. I miss my daed, too.”

  Jacob raised his head. “You have your mamm.”

  “For which I’m grateful, but that doesn’t lessen my sorrow when I think of my daed and how he used to make me laugh when I was a little girl.” She wiped one of his tears away with the crook of her finger. “If he were here, he’d be in great pain, and I don’t want him to suffer.”

  “My parents would have suffered, too. Really bad. Onkel Titus told me I shouldn’t want them to stay here.”

  “It’s okay to miss them and want to be with them.”

  “It is?”

  “Ja, but we have to believe God has His reasons for healing some of us and for releasing others from their pain by bringing them home to Him. We have to see His grace either way and realize mere humans can’t understand what He chooses. But we know God grieves along with us because He loves us.”

  “Does God cry, too?”

  “When we turn away from Him,” Nathaniel said. Pointing to the alpaca that had given birth, he added, “Look at her. She’s glad because her boppli is alive. She wants to keep her cria close to her, to protect and nourish it. That’s what makes her happy. Just as God is happy when we are close to Him.”

  “Oh.” Jacob didn’t say more as he watched the alpaca and the cria.

  “When the cria is old enough to go off on her own,” Esther whispered, “the alpaca won’t be angry. She knows that is how life is intended to be, and to be angry at her daughter would be as useless as being angry at a piece of hay. That’s how parents think, and God is our heavenly Father. He knows sometimes we have to make mistakes, but His love for us never falters. Even if you’re angry with Him, He isn’t angry with you.”

  The boy searched their faces, then looked at the alpacas. “He loves me like I love the alpacas.” The tension slowly slid from his shoulders. Without another word, he went to the rest of the herd and let them surround him as he petted them.

  Nathaniel smiled at Esther, and she saw the same pure happiness in his eyes as the boy’s. It was a perfect moment.

  And a moment was all it lasted. One moment, because before she could say anything, gravel crunched beneath rubber tires in the driveway. Someone was coming. Someone who wasn’t driving in on metal wheels.

  Her stomach cramped as the late model Englisch car stopped by the house and the driver turned off the engine. Through the windshield in the lights from the dashboard, she could see it was a young woman.

  “The social worker.” Esther didn’t make it a question.

  She heard the same uncertainty and dismay in his voice when he said, “We knew the state would be sending someone.”

  “But why now?”

  * * *

  Nathaniel glanced over his shoulder to where Jacob was relishing his chance to pet the alpacas and feed them by hand. Esther did the same. He knew what she was thinking. It’d been such a wunderbaar moment, and it was sad to have it interrupted by the outside world. But the outside world was there, and they must deal with it.

  Putting his arm around Esther’s shoulders and picking up a lantern, he told Jacob they’d be back in a few minutes. He wasn’t sure if the boy heard them because he was enthralled by the alpacas nuzzling him.

  The Englisch woman was stepping out of the car as they emerged from the barn. Chloe Lambert was nothing like he’d expected. Nothing like he’d feared. Instead of wearing a fancy business suit, the young woman had on khaki pants and a simple blouse. She wore sneakers like Esther’s, and her dark hair was short and flattered her round face. One thing was as he’d anticipated. Chloe Lambert carried a briefcase with a long strap to allow it to hang from her shoulder.

  “I’m Nathaniel Zook,” he said.

  She nodded and looked at Esther. “Where’s Jacob Fisher?”

  “He’s feeding the alpacas. I’m Esther, by the way.”

  “Very nice to meet you, Esther. Is Jacob safe with those animals?”

  Esther laughed, but the sound was laced with anxiety. “He’s very safe. He’s been trying to convince the herd for almost a month to let him get close to them. Tonight that happened just before a new one was born.”

  She glanced down at Esther’s feet. “Is he wearing sneakers, too? Does he need to wear boots?”

  “He’s fine,” Nathaniel said. “Why don’t you come in and see for yourself?”

  “Thank you. I’d like that.” Chloe took a step, then looked steadily at them. “Please understand we want the same thing. What’s best for the boy. I’m not your enemy or his.”

  Nathaniel nodded. “I’m sorry if we gave you that impression.”

  Miss Lambert smiled kindly. “You haven’t. I wanted to make that clear. Now please show me where the boy is.”

  Esther began talking with the social worker as if they were longtime friends and with an ease Nathaniel couldn’t have managed. He remembered the social workers who’d spoken with his parents at the hospital, outlining programs available to him and them. Some had sounded interesting and probably would have been approved by their bishop, but his parents wanted nothing more to do with Englischers and hospitals and doktors and tests.

  Had they been right to distrust the Englisch system, or had it been only the unrelenting fear and guilt driving them? He hadn’t known then, and he didn’t know now. At last he understood how intrusive it was to have someone examining every aspect of his life and how little control he had over the situation.

  I can hand control over to You, Lord, and trust You’ll direct our paths in a direction where we can travel toward You together.

  The prayer eased the initial panic he hadn’t been able to submerge. No wonder Miss Lambert thought he saw her as an enemy. As he watched Esther introducing Miss Lambert to Jacob and listened while the social worker spoke to the boy about the alpacas as if they were the most important thing in the world, he relaxed further. He doubted the social worker was as interested in the herd as she acted, but she was allowing Jacob to tell her every detail about the cria’s birth. She oohed and aahed over the adorable boppli. It was a gut way for her to get insight into the boy’s life.

  A half hour later, they were sitting in Nathaniel’s living room. Miss Lambert got out her computer and put it on a chair she’d drawn near where she sat.

  “Do you mind?” she asked as she opened her laptop. “I’d like to take notes while we’re talking. It’ll make it easier for me later to transfer the information to the department’s forms.”

  “Of course not,” Nathaniel replied. What else could he say? He hated everything about this situation where each word he spoke could be the wrong one. Lord, be with us today and guide our words and actions so Miss Lambert sees Jacob belongs here with this community. Here with me! The last came directly from his heart.

  “Let me say again how much I appreciate you being willing to let me come and visit like this, Mr. Zook.”

  “Please call me Nathaniel.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that, and I think it’ll be simpler if you call me Chloe.”

  “Danki. I mean, thank you.”

  She smiled, obviously trying to put them at ease. “I understand enough of the language of the plain folk to know what danki means. I’ve worked with other plain families, which is why I was as
signed as Jacob’s social worker. If you say something I don’t understand, I’ll ask you to explain. Please do the same if I say something you don’t understand.”

  Nathaniel nodded and watched Esther do the same. Jacob was hunched on his chair, trying to make himself as small as possible. Did he have any idea why the social worker was there? Probably not. It was more likely he wanted to return to the alpacas.

  Chloe looked at Esther. “I understand you are Jacob’s teacher.”

  “I am.”

  She typed a few keys on her computer, then said, “I know it’ll be an imposition, but I’ll need to see Jacob at school. I can’t let you know before I arrive.” She gave Esther a wry smile. “We’re supposed to drop in so we see what’s really going on. I hope that won’t be a problem.”

  “The scholars—our students are accustomed to having parents come to the school to help. You’re welcome to come anytime you need to, but I must ask you not to talk to the kinder without their parents’ permission.”

  “That is fair. Will you arrange for me to obtain the permission if I need it?”

  “It will be for the best if our bishop does.”

  “That’s Reuben Lapp, right?”

  “Ja.”

  Chloe smiled as she continued typing. “I’ve already spoken with Bishop Lapp. He expressed his concerns about the situation, and I told him—as I’m telling you—those concerns will be taken into consideration before any decision will be made.”

  “Gut.” Relief was evident in Esther’s voice.

  When she looked at him, Nathaniel gave her what he hoped she’d see as a bolstering smile. The situation between them might be tenuous now, but she was his greatest ally...as she’d always been. It wasn’t a kind’s game they were caught up in now, but he knew he could trust she’d be there for him and for Jacob. Her heart was steadfast, and in spite of her trepidation now, he knew she had the courage of the Old Testament woman whose name she shared. That Esther had done all she could to save her people, and Esther Stoltzfus would do no less for an orphaned boy.