Sara made her way over to the shelves. “Eww …” After walking into a clingy web, she wiped her face, then ran her fingers through her hair and down over her clothing. “I hope there was no spider in that web.” The idea of it crawling on her somewhere made Sara cringe.
When she reached the shelf where the empty canning jars were located, Sara held the lantern higher until the antique jar came into view. The old, bubbled glass was a light seafoam green. The lid on top of the jar looked like tarnished silver. Funny she hadn’t noticed those details when she’d seen the jar before. Could this be a different one, or am I seeing the jar more clearly today?
After unscrewing the lid, and laying it on the wooden table near the antiquated washing machine, Sara shook the jar, in an attempt to read a different message than she had the last time.
Sara reached in and took out a piece of paper that had been folded twice. After smoothing out the creases, she read the message out loud. “Life’s situations can become an opportunity for transformation.”
Transformation to what? Sara wondered. Who wrote this, and what does it mean?
She pondered the words a few more seconds before taking out and reading another slip of paper. This one had a Bible verse on it: “‘To whom ye forgive any thing, I forgive also: for if I forgave any thing, to whom I forgave it, for your sakes forgave I it in the person of Christ.’”
There it was again—that word “forgiveness.” Sara pursed her lips. I don’t see why it’s so important for people to forgive. When a person’s done wrong, it’s only human to feel angry or hold a grudge. I am not doing anything mean, or trying to punish those who have hurt me, so I don’t understand why I need to forgive.
Hearing footsteps from the room above, Sara hastily put the papers back in the jar, closed the lid, and returned the jar to its shelf. She was certain Mary Ruth and Willis couldn’t be back from town this soon, so it must be Michelle she’d heard upstairs. Maybe I’ll stay down here with the cobwebs and spiders awhile longer. It would be better than facing her right now.
Chapter 11
During supper that evening, Sara toyed with her chicken and dumplings as she listened to Michelle tell Grandpa and Grandma about her visit with Ezekiel and how she’d decided to prepare for joining the Amish church in the spring.
Why is she doing this? Sara wondered. What reason could Michelle possibly have for becoming Amish? She must have some ulterior motive—something that goes beyond wanting to be with her boyfriend.
Sara picked up her glass of water and took a drink. By becoming Amish, Michelle might hope she can get even closer to Grandpa and Grandma, and perhaps even gain something from them. But what could it be? Their attention? Love? Support? Or could she be hoping to someday receive an inheritance from their estate? From what Sara understood, the imposter didn’t own anything but the clothes on her back. Yes, I’ll bet she is after something.
Sara’s jaw clenched as she set her glass down a little too hard, and some water splashed out by her plate. She grabbed a napkin and wiped it up before anyone noticed her annoyance. If Michelle goes through with her plan to join the Amish church, it’ll drive an even bigger wedge between us.
Sara breathed deeply, trying to squelch her agitation as she listened to more of Michelle’s plans. Wish I didn’t feel this way. Am I jealous because Michelle got to know my grandparents first and she spent all those weeks with them, as they drew close to her? I have the right to feel this way. It should have been me instead of Michelle they picked up at the bus station in Philly that day. I am the real granddaughter, and yet here she is.
It perturbed Sara whenever she heard Michelle speak Pennsylvania Dutch, and more so, seeing how much it pleased Grandma and Grandpa. It was obvious that in spite of Michelle’s deceitfulness, she had managed to worm her way into their hearts.
Sara’s fingers dug into her palms. I have Mom to blame for this. It’s because of her that I feel so defeated and mistrusting. If only she’d been honest with me.
Feeling a need to get the topic off Michelle and onto something else, Sara mentioned the accident she and Ezekiel had witnessed in front of the flower shop yesterday. “You should have seen how angry one of the men got. I thought for a while he might hit the other guy.”
“That isn’t the way an Amish man would have acted, is it?” Michelle looked at Sara’s grandfather.
He shook his head. “Hopefully not. Getting angry and shouting at someone when an accident occurs is not the way to handle things.”
“Nor is it the Christian thing to do,” Grandma put in.
“Some people, like my ex-boyfriend, are full of anger, and you never know what might set them off.” Michelle’s voice cracked. “I never should have gotten involved with Jerry. He was a loser and an abuser. I’m glad to be shed of him.”
Grandma placed her hand on Michelle’s arm and gave it a few pats. “You’ve been through a lot, but that’s all in the past. You have a new future to look forward to now.”
If the pretender was telling the truth, and not making things up in order to prey on Grandma and Grandpa’s sympathies, then Sara couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for her, because no one deserved to be abused. But if Michelle made up the story about the angry boyfriend in an attempt to get pity, then shame on her.
It was hard to know what to believe where the auburn-haired woman was concerned. Sara wished she could come right out and question Michelle’s motives. But she wouldn’t say anything in front of her grandparents. She would, however, keep a close eye on Michelle and make sure she didn’t do anything to hurt Grandpa or Grandma ever again.
As they continued with supper, Mary Ruth glanced at her husband, wondering if he had noticed Sara’s demeanor at the table this evening. Their granddaughter was clearly uneasy around Michelle and had not been her friendly self since she returned here before Thanksgiving. No doubt our precious granddaughter feels threatened by Michelle’s presence in this house, even though I have tried to reassure Sara that our love for her hasn’t changed because Michelle’s come back and is here with us.
Willis didn’t appear to notice Sara’s pinched expression when Michelle shared her news about joining the Amish church. He seemed pleased with the idea and kept his focus on the chicken dumplings rather than paying attention to Sara’s response to the information Michelle had shared with them. Nor had he said much, other than his one comment when Sara changed the subject to the accident that had taken place outside of the florist’s.
Mary Ruth forked a piece of tender chicken into her mouth. Is my husband oblivious to what’s still going on between Sara and Michelle? Maybe men don’t take note of such things, the way we womenfolk do.
She glanced at Willis again, but he didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he’s choosing to ignore it, hoping things will work out between the young women without our further interference. I’ve spoken to Sara once and he talked with Michelle, so it’s time for me to take a step back and give the situation to God. Mary Ruth blotted her lips with a napkin. If Sara’s attitude toward Michelle doesn’t improve by Christmas, I will talk to her again, because this can’t go on indefinitely.
Clarks Summit
Seated at the table in the kitchen of his apartment, Brad reflected on when he was a boy and had visited this area with his folks. Clarks Summit, with its four dams called Cobbs, Fords, Interlaken, and the Summit Lake Dam, was a great vacation spot. He recalled how his family liked to come up on a warm sunny day and visit one of the four reservoirs to cool off. His mom would pack up food for lunch, and Dad brought a portable barbecue along with some folding chairs.
While eating his supper, Brad decided to check in with his parents to see how things were going. He had been praying for them and hoped things had improved.
“Hey, Mom, how are you doing?” Brad put his cell phone on speaker so he could eat his evening meal and talk at the same time.
“Better. My cough’s subsiding, and I have more energy.”
“Good to hear.” Brad twirled some n
oodles on a fork and slurped up some spaghetti, then washed it down with milk from his glass.
“Are you eating, dear? I don’t want to interrupt your supper.”
“No, it’s okay. My phone’s on speaker so I can eat while I’m talking with you, no problem.”
“Did you have a nice Thanksgiving?”
“It was all right. I ate at a local restaurant. It wasn’t like your good home-cooked meals, but I survived.”
“Sorry you had to be alone. It was a bad time for me to get the flu.”
“It’s okay, Mom. You didn’t get sick on purpose.”
“That’s for sure. So how are things going there with your studies?” she asked.
“The course I’m taking now is tough, but I’ll get through it.” Brad put another forkful of spaghetti in his mouth and ate it before speaking again. “I’m sure looking forward to Christmas break though. I need some downtime and a chance to rest my tired brain. Also, it’ll be nice to spend a little time with you and Dad.”
There was a pause. His mother cleared her throat. “Umm … About Christmas …”
“What about Christmas, Mom?”
“I heard from my sister today, and she’s scheduled to have a hysterectomy two days before Christmas.”
“So you’re going to Seattle to be with her.” Brad finished his mother’s sentence.
“Yes, I need to be there. As you know, your aunt Marlene has been all alone since her husband died a year ago, and she can’t take care of herself when she comes home from the hospital. I will probably need to stay for several weeks past Christmas.”
“I understand. Will Dad be going with you?”
“He will, but only for part of the time. He’ll stay through the holiday, but when he needs to return to work, he’ll fly home.” Her voice faltered. “I feel terrible about leaving you alone on Christmas. You’d be welcome to go with us to Seattle, but I’m sure there are other places you’d rather be for the holidays.”
Brad took another drink from his glass. “Actually, I had planned on spending some of my Christmas break in Lancaster County. I’m sure if I let them know ahead of time that I’ll be in the area, my Amish friends Willis and Mary Ruth Lapp will invite me for Christmas dinner. At least I hope that’s the case, because I’d sure like to see them again.”
“Are you sure it’s not their granddaughter you’re eager to see? From what you mentioned in one of our phone calls this past summer, you and Sara were sort of dating.”
“We did see each other socially a few times,” he admitted, “but she’s not the right girl for me.”
“How do you know?”
Brad lifted his gaze to the ceiling. I shouldn’t have told Mom anything. Now she’ll pester me to death if I don’t tell her everything—or at least what I think she wants to know.
“For one thing, Mom, I don’t believe Sara’s a Christian.”
“Ah, I see. You were wise not to get serious about her then.”
“Yes. Besides, I had a hunch she was interested in a young Amish man in Strasburg. Sara hung out with Ezekiel quite a bit.” Brad reached for a napkin and wiped his mouth. “Before I left for seminary, I wrote Sara a letter saying goodbye and that I wished her well and would be praying for her.”
“Sounds to me like your dad and I raised a smart man. With your plans to become a minister, the last thing you need is to be married to a nonbeliever. But then, I have to ask: Would Ezekiel be interested in her if she doesn’t believe in God? And also, if Sara is not a Christian, how is it she would be interested in an Amish man? Aren’t most Amish people Christians?”
“The ones I know sure are. But that’s something Ezekiel will have to work out with her, if he’s interested.”
“Oh, sorry, Brad. Your dad just came in the door, so I need to get supper on the table. I fixed his favorite spaghetti with marinara sauce.”
Brad chuckled. “That’s what I’m eating right now too. Only my meal isn’t homemade. It came out of a can.”
“Oh my. Those meals in a can aren’t that healthy.”
“I know, but I have a lot of studying to do yet this evening, so I didn’t have time to cook anything from scratch.”
“Someday you’ll meet the right woman who will not only cook you well-balanced meals, but she’ll also be a helpmate in your ministry.”
“Yes, if I’m meant to get married, God will send the right woman, and I will know it without a doubt. And now, Mom, I’d better let you go or I’ll soon hear Dad grumbling.”
She snickered. “Take care, Brad, and safe travels to the Lancaster area when you go. Oh, and please stay in touch.”
“I will, and you do the same. Please let me know when you get to Seattle, and I’d appreciate a report on how Aunt Marlene is doing. And remember,” he added, “I’ll be praying for your sister, as well as for you and Dad, as you travel to Washington state.”
When Mom hung up, Brad clicked off his phone. As he grasped his fork to finish his meal, a vision of Sara popped into his head. He had to admit he’d been attracted to her pretty auburn hair, blue-green eyes, and slender figure. But looks weren’t everything, and unless she’d come to know the Lord since he last saw her, Brad would not allow himself to get involved with Sara again. He would, however, call and leave a message for the Lapps, letting them know he planned to be in their area over Christmas vacation. He also needed to call his friend, Ned Evans, whom he had shared an apartment with while attending college in Lancaster before coming to seminary. Hopefully, Ned wouldn’t mind if he stayed with him for two weeks. It would be like old times.
Chapter 12
Strasburg
Michelle gazed at the plain blue dress lying on the end of her bed. It was hard to believe the frock was hers. For the last two weeks Mary Ruth had been giving Michelle sewing lessons, and last night she’d finished hemming the Amish dress she had made mostly by herself. It would be the first of several, because one plain dress in her closet was not enough.
Michelle was still amazed at the idea of having to sew dresses to be used for different occasions. She would need clothes for church, work, and someday maybe her own wedding attire.
I shouldn’t jump too quickly on that idea, she told herself. I’ve got a lot to overcome first, and Ezekiel hasn’t proposed to me yet either. She giggled and stifled it with her hand. But it’s hard not to get excited, especially at the thought of accomplishing my goal.
Since Michelle had made up her mind to join the Amish church, she figured it was best if she wore Amish clothes from now on. No more makeup, jewelry, or ponytails for her either. During the day, Michelle’s hair would be worn in a bun at the back of her head, with a white, heart-shaped covering on top. For work around the house or chores outside, Michelle would wear a dark-colored scarf on her head. Only at night would her hair be let down.
For some reason, images of Michelle’s biological parents, Herb and Ginny Taylor, popped into her mind. If my real parents could see me now, wouldn’t they be surprised? But then, with the kind of life they lived, maybe they’re no longer alive. Her mouth twisted grimly. I know one thing: they couldn’t have cared less when that woman from child services took me and my brothers away. They all but shoved us out the door. And what’s even worse, we ended up in different foster homes, never to see each other again.
It angered Michelle whenever she thought of her so-called parents and how they could have ruined her life if she’d continued living with them. “But you didn’t get the chance to mess up my brother’s and my lives any more than you did.” Michelle spoke as if they were standing right in front of her. Thinking of Ernie and Jack made her feel sad. I pray they’re okay. It’s not likely, but maybe someday our paths will cross.
Switching her thoughts back to the current situation, Michelle didn’t mind the idea of wearing Amish dresses, or even using a horse and buggy as her main mode of transportation. What bothered her most was the language barrier. Although Mary Ruth, Willis, and Ezekiel had promised to work with Michelle on learning
the Pennsylvania Dutch language, she still doubted her abilities.
I wonder if Sara will ever decide to join the Amish church, Michelle thought as she slipped the dress on over her head. Since her mother grew up in an Amish home, I would think she might be inclined in that direction. Sara had never mentioned the idea in Michelle’s presence, but then Sara said as little as possible to Michelle.
Michelle put the blind up and stood a few feet from the window. Seeing her image reflected in the glass, she used it like a full-length mirror. It wasn’t fully daylight yet, so she could see herself pretty well. Michelle turned at different angles to see how she looked in the Amish dress. It might take a little getting used to, but she liked it. It fits me well, like it was custom made, and it feels comfortable to wear. Michelle slipped on the apron and tied it in the back.
Mary Ruth had done a wonderful job helping her measure correctly and making sure it all went together as it should. At times it was still difficult for Michelle not to call Mary Ruth “Grandma,” because she made her feel like part of the family.
The fact is Sara has that complete right, not me. Sighing, Michelle picked up her brush and worked through all the tangles in her hair. Then she pulled her hair back into a bun, making sure the sides were twisted the way Mary Ruth and other Lancaster Amish women wore theirs. I wonder if others will think I fit in. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror on her dresser and shook her head. Why am I filled with so much self-doubt? If only I could be more confident, like Sara. She seems so self-assured.
Hoping to keep her nervousness from showing, Michelle drew a quick breath, opened her bedroom door, and started down the stairs.
Sara took out a frying pan and put just enough coconut oil in the bottom to keep the eggs she would soon be frying from sticking. She’d come down earlier than usual to help start breakfast, wanting a few moments alone with her grandmother before Michelle showed up. “Since I’ve only been working at the flower shop two weeks, it’s going to be a while before I have enough money saved up to rent an apartment in town,” she said, looking at Grandma, who had taken a pan of biscuits from the oven. Her glasses had steamed over from the moist, hot pan of food.
The Forgiving Jar Page 8