An Amish Singing

by Amy Clipston

  “I’m so sorry. I pray for her and your family often.”

  “Danki.” Darlene sat up straighter. “I hope I can come to the next supper, but I need to stay home tonight.”

  “I understand. We’ll miss you.” Sharon paused again. “Do you need any help? Alice and I can come over and cook or clean, maybe while your mamm is napping?”

  Darlene smiled. How she treasured her friends. “Danki, but we’re fine.”

  “You always say that, but I feel we should be doing more for you. Would you tell me if you needed something?”

  Darlene opened her mouth and then closed it. How she longed to tell Sharon the worries that burdened her heart. But she couldn’t. Not only did she not want to burden her but she couldn’t let down her guard. If she did, she might crumble and never recover.

  “Of course I would,” Darlene said.

  “I feel like you’re not being completely honest with me. I’ve known you since we were in first grade. I can tell when you’re holding back.”

  The bell on the front door sounded, and Darlene jumped down from the stool as three Amish ladies she didn’t know walked in. Maybe they were visiting Bird-in-Hand.

  “I’m sorry, but I need to go. I have customers. Will you tell everyone hello for me tonight?”

  “Of course. Have a gut day.”

  “You too. Bye.” Darlene hung up and squared her shoulders, pushing her worries away. “Gude mariye,” she called out to the women. “How may I help you?’

  * * *

  Andrew Detweiler stepped into Alice’s kitchen, where Alice, Sharon, and Alice’s mother, Dorothy, scampered around, pulling food out of the oven and gathering dishes. His friends Jay, Cal, and Dave were bringing folding chairs and tables from the utility room.

  The aromas of meat loaf and freshly baked bread filled Andrew’s senses. He was glad the women always made enough food for them to enjoy when the guests left. He secretly believed eating the leftovers was the best part of these evenings. As far as he was concerned, that was enough payment for his help, but Feenie and Dorothy always insisted on sharing their profits with everyone.

  “Andrew! You made it!” Alice called.

  Not for the first time, he found himself comparing Alice’s—and Sharon’s—coloring with Darlene’s. Darlene was a gorgeous blonde with brown eyes. Alice had brown eyes, too, but reddish-brown hair, and Sharon had light-brown hair and blue eyes. They were all attractive yet different, although each was an average height for a woman.

  One thing different about Darlene was her dating status. Alice had recently started dating Dave, who’d been estranged from their friend group for a while. Andrew was still impressed by how she’d managed to not only persuade Dave to open up to her after he’d gone through a tough time but convince him to join their group for suppers and singings. And Sharon had been dating Jay since last spring. But as far as he knew, with her mother so ill, Darlene didn’t have much time for socializing beyond occasionally making it to these suppers or Sunday afternoon singings.

  Andrew gave Alice a sheepish smile. “Sorry I’m a little late. Mei dat’s furniture store was busy today.”

  “It’s no problem. We’re just glad you’re here. We’ve been running behind with the cooking.” She pointed to the other men. “Would you please help the guys set up?”

  “Ya.” Andrew scanned the room. “Is Darlene here?”

  “She couldn’t make it.” Her lips pressed into a flat line. “Sharon talked to her earlier, and her mamm was having another bad day.”

  Andrew shook his head. For some reason, Darlene had been on his mind for the past few days, and he wanted to know how she was doing. Although everyone in their church district was aware of her mother’s battle with cancer, Darlene never really talked about it. Andrew couldn’t shake the feeling that she could use some emotional support. He knew Sharon and Alice were there for their best friend, but he’d heard them say Darlene had resisted sharing her feelings with them ever since her mother’s diagnosis.

  “Hey, Andrew,” Cal said, breaking into his thoughts. “Are you going to help us set up? Or just stand there like some kind of dummkopp?”

  Cal was never shy. He stood around six feet tall, just like Andrew and the other two guys, and Andrew supposed he was good-looking. He had golden hair and blue eyes. But he was the jokester of their group and could always be counted on to make a smart remark or offer a witty comeback, enjoying being the center of attention. Andrew, on the other hand, was happy to hover in the background.

  “Sorry.” Andrew grabbed a chair and unfolded it before pushing it in under a table.

  Sharon’s voice rose from the counter where she was hard at work, Alice’s mother at her side. “We have enough chairs out here now, but Dorothy and I think we need another table, so the guests won’t be too crowded together.” Andrew could see she was icing a large chocolate cake. She turned and locked eyes with Jay, Andrew noting his were another set of brown. “Would you please get another one from the utility room?”

  “Of course.”

  Alice spoke from across the room, where she was taking a dish out of the fridge. “I was thinking we could sing ‘The Old Rugged Cross’ and ‘How Great Thou Art’ tonight.”

  “What about ‘Amazing Grace’?” Dave said before looking at Alice, who gave him a smile that seemed meant only for him.

  Andrew looked away. His thoughts once again turned to Darlene. Maybe he’d see her at church on Sunday so he could ask her how she was doing.

  “‘Amazing Grace’ would be lovely,” Dorothy said, turning to display a tray of cookies.

  Sharon turned the cake around. “Okay. That’s done. What’s next?”

  “Grab the tablecloths?” Jay asked as he and Dave unfolded the additional table.

  Alice deposited the dish next to her mother and then pulled two tablecloths from a drawer and tossed them to Andrew. “We need to get these tables set. The guests will be here before we know it.”

  Chapter Two

  “Let me help you to the kitchen.” Darlene tied Mamm’s robe around her waist and then held her arm as she slowly shuffled toward the kitchen for some supper. She’d showed little improvement all day, and Darlene knew she’d done the right thing by staying home from Sharon’s supper.

  Mamm had lost so much weight that she looked as if she might blow away on a windy day. Her dresses hung on her as if they’d been made for a much larger woman, and her thick, golden hair had started falling out in clumps. Darlene had always thought her mother was beautiful, but now her deep-brown eyes had lost their brightness, and her cheeks were sunken in.

  It nearly tore Darlene to shreds to see how weak and exhausted Mamm was. She would fall asleep while trying to read a book, and Darlene and Biena had to take turns bathing her. Darlene often felt like Mamm’s mother instead of her child.

  She did her best to hold back tears as she steered the once-strong Roselyn Bender to her usual chair at one end of the kitchen table. “Would you like some pot roast, Mamm?”

  “No, danki.” She touched her blue headscarf. “Some soup would be gut, though.”

  “Coming up.” Darlene retrieved the refrigerator jar of homemade chicken noodle soup she’d thrown together yesterday and poured it into a pot before turning on the propane stove.

  Biena carried a large serving dish with the pot roast to the table just as Dat came in from outside. He crossed the room to kiss Mamm on the cheek. “How are you feeling, dear?”

  “I’m gut, Al.” Mamm touched his chest as she gazed up at him, and Darlene took in how tiny and frail her hand looked. She was not well.

  She turned her attention to the pot and stirred the soup.

  “You just closed up the store?” Mamm asked Dat.

  “Ya.” He moved to the sink to wash his hands. “I took over for Darlene so she could make supper.” He turned to Biena. “You made my favorite tonight. It smells appeditlich.”

  “Danki.” Biena set a basket of rolls on the table.

  The so
up began to bubble, and Darlene ladled a healthy portion into a bowl, then carried it to her mother.

  “Danki.” Mamm sounded breathy, as if it took great effort for her to speak.

  “Gern gschehne.”

  “Let’s eat,” Dat said.

  Darlene took her usual spot across from her sister, and after a silent prayer, she placed a helping of pot roast on her plate. She glanced at Mamm and saw her shakily scoop a spoonful of soup and bring it to her mouth. Darlene bit her lower lip and held her breath, trying to resist the urge to offer help.

  Then Mamm dropped the spoon, splattering soup outside the bowl, and Darlene couldn’t hold back the words.

  “Do you need help, Mamm?” Darlene pushed her chair back.

  “No.” Mamm’s tone was nearly as sharp as the knives sitting in a wooden block on the counter, and Darlene winced at the tone. “I can do it.” She huffed out a breath as she mopped the mess with her napkin. “This illness has taken nearly everything from me. I should be taking care of myself, my home, and my family. The least I can do is feed myself. So, no, I do not need help, Darlene.” She lifted the spoon again, and this time she managed to slide some soup into her mouth.

  With tears stinging her eyes, Darlene turned to Dat, who gave her a grave smile and discreetly shook his head as if warning her to not respond.

  Dat cleared his throat. “Roselyn, Darlene said the store was busy this morning.” He glanced at Darlene and lifted his eyebrows.

  “Ya, I did, Dat.” Her voice sounded strained to her own ears. “A dozen or so customers came in before lunch, and I sold quite a few greeting cards, some books, and some boppli clothes. A group of Amish women visiting Bird-in-Hand bought gifts for a newborn.”

  “Isn’t that nice?” Biena’s voice sounded a little too perky.

  Mamm kept her eyes focused on her soup as if it took all her strength to eat it.

  “It was busy when I took over as well,” Dat said. “Some Englishers purchased a few gardening tools.”

  Dat talked about business throughout the remainder of the meal. He seemed to want to fill any silence. If only his enthusiasm could heal Mamm.

  Once they were finished with supper, Biena helped Mamm return to the family room to sit in her recliner until bedtime.

  As her father sat at the table drinking the last of his coffee, Darlene ferried all the dishes to the counter and then filled the sink with soapy water. Her mother’s words about how the illness had taken everything from her echoed in Darlene’s mind.

  “Why didn’t you go to the supper and singing tonight?”

  “What?” Darlene spun to face her father.

  “Why did you stay home tonight?” Dat tilted his head and studied her.

  “How do you know about that?”

  “Biena told me.”

  Darlene glanced at the doorway leading to the family room and then back at him. Why had she told her sister about Sharon’s phone call? She’d shared that news in confidence. She hadn’t wanted either of her parents to know about it.

  “Don’t be angry with Biena.” Dat leaned back in his chair. “You know your mamm and I want you maed to continue seeing your freinden. You deserve to have social lives. It’s part of our culture for young people to spend time with others their age.”

  Darlene shook her head as she turned off the water. “I just couldn’t go tonight. I didn’t want to leave you and Biena to take care of everything. The chores, the meal, Mamm . . .”

  Dat shook his head as he rose and came to stand beside her. “You’re just as stubborn as your mamm.” He touched her shoulder. “You know I’ll support you whenever you want to see your freinden. I want your life to be as normal as possible.”

  Nothing will ever be normal until Mamm is well.

  “I know you will,” she said. But she would never leave her father and Biena to care for Mamm on a bad day.

  “I’m going out to take care of the animals. Call if you need me.”

  As Darlene tackled the dishes, she sucked in a deep breath and silently begged God to heal her mother.

  A few moments later her hands stilled in the water as she recalled what her father said earlier in the day, that God loved them all. But how many times did she need to ask God for his special touch? She longed to have her beloved mother back.

  Another thought caused her to gasp. Would God allow this illness to steal her mother away forever?

  * * *

  After leaving the shop behind the showroom of his father’s furniture store, a large, cinder block building at the end of their long driveway, Andrew climbed the back steps of his family’s home and glanced at the setting sun. Taking in the stunning hues of pink and purple, he breathed in the air, grateful that evening would bring at least a slight relief from the humidity of the day.

  His shoulders and back ached after working for hours on a triple dresser that was part of a bedroom suite one of his father’s English customers had ordered. He enjoyed building furniture, but it had been a long Friday.

  Glancing down at his trousers, he found them covered in sawdust and sighed. Like always, he should have changed his clothes back in the shop. But he’d been so eager to get home and eat some supper, he’d forgotten.

  At the edge of the porch, he began swiping his hands over his trousers, sending sawdust dancing through the air like dandelion seeds on a spring day.

  “Andrew?”

  He turned to see his mother standing in the doorway. Although Andrew and his younger brother, Sam, had inherited both her dark hair and eyes, they were several inches taller than her as well as Dat. But she still commanded respect with her strong, stubborn personality.

  “Hi, Mamm.” He gave his trousers another swipe.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I forgot to change my clothes at the shop, so I’m trying to clean up before I come inside.” He gave her an embarrassed smile. “I know how you feel about sawdust in your kitchen, and . . . I’m really hungry.”

  Mamm rolled her eyes. “Come inside. Your supper is getting cold.”

  Andrew followed her into the mudroom, where he left his shoes and straw hat. Then he entered the kitchen, crossed to the sink, and began to wash his hands.

  “You stayed late tonight,” Mamm said as she pulled a plate from the oven. “Your dat and bruder are already taking care of the animals.”

  “Didn’t Dat tell you? I’m running behind on a big project, so I told him I’d try to catch up.”

  She set the plate with pork chops, mashed potatoes, and broccoli on the table. “Ya, he did. Did you get as far as you’d hoped?”

  “Ya.” He dried his hands on a paper towel. “I’ll start staining it tomorrow.”

  “That’s gut.” Mamm pointed to the plate. “Sit. Eat. I’ll get you some water.”

  Andrew dropped into a chair and bowed his head for a quick prayer before slicing off a piece of pork chop.

  Mamm gave him the glass of water, then turned to the sink.

  Andrew chewed as his mind once again settled on Darlene. He still wasn’t sure why she’d invaded his thoughts all week, but he found himself more and more concerned about her and her family.

  “Mamm,” he began, and she glanced over her shoulder at him. “Have you heard how Roselyn Bender is doing?”

  She stopped scrubbing a pot and turned to face him. “Why do you ask?”

  “Darlene didn’t come to the supper and singing we had at Alice’s haus on Tuesday. Sharon said her mamm was having another bad day.”

  “Ach, I’m sorry to hear that. But I ran into Louise Smoker at the market yesterday. Sharon Lambert told her Roselyn really seems to be struggling with the side effects of chemo.”

  “Ya. That’s the impression we’re all getting, although Darlene doesn’t like to talk about it.”

  “It breaks my heart. I’ve been praying for the family.”

  Andrew had been praying too. In fact, while he worked on the dresser today, he prayed for the Bender family frequently. If only he didn’t n
eed to wait for Sunday to ask Darlene how she was doing. But he didn’t want to push her.

  Mamm turned back to the sink and rinsed the pot. “Roselyn has always been rather private, but Al used to be much more social. I don’t get to his store much, but when I do see him, there or at church, he doesn’t say much. I’ve also heard Roselyn doesn’t want any visitors, which makes it difficult for the rest of the church district. Many of us would love to help her and the family.”

  Andrew nodded. He recalled the many times he’d heard Sharon and Alice offer to sing, cook, or clean for Darlene’s mother. Each time, Darlene declined.

  “We have to keep them in our prayers,” Mamm said. “They’ve been through so much, but we know the Lord will provide.”

  But as Andrew took another bite of his food, he wanted to do more, to be a better friend to Darlene. For some reason he couldn’t pinpoint, he thought maybe she’d talk to him even though she seemed to be keeping Sharon and Alice at bay.

  Chapter Three

  Darlene stood in front of her mirror Sunday morning and brushed her hands down her favorite pink dress and white apron. Then, after checking her prayer covering, she glanced at the clock on her nightstand and sighed. Her mother wasn’t able to attend church anymore—even if she felt like it—because being around a crowd when her immune system was compromised by the chemotherapy was too great a risk. But the rest of the family had to leave within the next hour or they’d be late.

  Still, even though her mother had rallied yesterday, Darlene regretted agreeing to leave her home alone. Mamm had insisted, though.

  Despite her current struggles with God, Darlene closed her eyes and whispered a prayer. “Please help Mamm be strong today.”

  Then she hurried down the stairs, but when she found the kitchen empty, her shoulders wilted as her hope deflated. This meant one thing—Mamm had a bad night.

  Darlene turned as footfalls sounded in the hallway leading to her parents’ first-floor bedroom. Then Dat stepped into the kitchen, his shoulders slumping, his mouth turned down. “Your mamm is krank again.”