The Forgiving Jar

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  Michelle thought back to when she wore makeup and jewelry, but she hadn’t worn either in a good many weeks. Even when she wore makeup, it was never as much as this blond wore. Michelle did not miss wearing it either. The poor girl probably doesn’t realize she is covering up all her natural beauty.

  Aside from over-done jewelry and too much makeup, the blond was dressed like a model. What Michelle could see of her outfit, a pretty silk sleeveless blouse and nice black pants, made Jerry’s new girlfriend look like she’d stepped out of a fashion magazine. Michelle also caught sight of the matching black jacket draped across the back of Nicki’s chair.

  Nicki sneered at Michelle, probably eager to hurl a few insults her way. To Michelle’s surprise, pathetic was the only word the young woman said. Then, glancing at Jerry, they both laughed.

  After taking his girlfriend’s hand, Jerry looked back at Michelle and shook his head. “Never thought I’d see you again, much less lookin’ like a frumpy ole housemaid. How in the world did you end up here in the middle of Amish country, and who’d you let talk you into crossin’ over?”

  Michelle was tempted to tell Jerry that none of it was his business, but in order to show she had changed since leaving him, she forced a smile, pulled her shoulders back, and held her head high. “It’s a long story, and I’m sure you would be bored if I shared it.”

  With a smirk, he leaned in her direction. “Try me.”

  “I’d rather not.” Michelle held her ground, staring right back at him. She was not going to let her ex-boyfriend get control of anything like he had done in the past. “Now if you came here to eat supper, what would you like to order? You can either get something off the menu, or choose whatever you want from the buffet.” She gestured in that direction, trying, at the same time, to keep a composed demeanor. She wanted it to appear as though she was holding her own with this situation, but inside, Michelle was anything but calm.

  “So, what do you want, babe?” Jerry nudged the woman beside him, who kept her gaze on Michelle, as if sizing her up and down. No doubt Nicki saw Michelle as nothing more than a country bumpkin.

  Nicki glanced at the menu, squinting as she slid her finger down the items listed. Then, leaning over and holding the menu in front of her face, she whispered something to Jerry.

  Michelle rolled her eyes as she waited impatiently. She’s probably talking about me.

  Jerry’s friend set the menu down. “I’ll do the buffet. It’ll be quicker, and we don’t wanna be late for the musical we came down here to see.” She leaned closer to Jerry. “Do we, hon?”

  “No we don’t, babe.” Jerry planted a kiss on Nicki’s lips.

  Musical? Ignoring the kiss, Michelle shifted the ordering pad from one hand to the other. Since when had Jerry become so refined? In the short time Michelle had dated him, he’d never invited her to go anywhere nice. Not unless the local pool hall or a drive to the store to get beer and frozen pizza could be considered nice. Hopefully, with Nicki, Jerry was cleaning up his act, but it was doubtful. And if he was, the guy still had a long ways to go.

  Michelle stuck her pencil behind one ear, just under her white head covering. It was difficult to be patient as she waited for Jerry to decide what he wanted to eat.

  “Guess I’ll choose something from the buffet too, little miss Plain Jane.” Jerry wrinkled his nose. “And if you care to know, I’m well rid of you, Michelle. I’m actually glad you split when you did, ’cause I was about done with our relationship anyways.” He pointed at her head covering. “Seeing this new getup of yours, I sure wouldn’t be seen with the likes of you now.”

  “Good to know.” Michelle put on her cheeriest smile. “Thank you for sharing that information with me, Jerry. I appreciate your kindness.” She started to walk away, but turned around in time to see Jerry’s expression turn from thinking he’d worn her down to one of astonishment. Perhaps he’d underestimated her.

  “Can I bring you two anything to drink other than water?” Michelle asked.

  “I’ll have a glass of beer.” He looked at his date. “Better make that two. My girl here likes a little brew. Right, sweetie?”

  Nicki snickered. “That’s right, Jerry.”

  Michelle lifted her gaze to the ceiling. “This restaurant is run by a Christian family, and they don’t serve alcoholic beverages.”

  “No beer, huh?” He grunted. “That’s really stupid. Bet they lose a lot of business because of that old-fashioned decision.”

  “We should have gone to the place you took me to back in May,” Nicki muttered.

  Looking around at the crowded restaurant, where nearly every table was occupied, Michelle was tempted to argue with Jerry, but she didn’t see the point. It wasn’t worth the waste of time. Besides, this kind of talk was nothing new. Jerry thought he was right about everything.

  “Maybe instead of coming here, you should have taken Nicki to that place you went to in May.” Michelle stressed the word May to make sure Jerry heard it, loud and clear.

  Michelle’s steady stare on his face could have bored a hole in a piece of rock, and she found pleasure in seeing that the once-domineering Jerry had to look away. Michelle didn’t flinch and almost laughed when he loosened his tie and tugged at the collar around his throat, which must have felt too tight.

  I cannot believe this guy. That two-timer was seeing Nicki last spring, when he was still with me. Wouldn’t I have surprised Jerry if I’d agreed to move in with him? Guess he knew I meant it when I kept telling him no.

  Michelle found strength in holding her composure. Jerry didn’t like to be turned down. He may have controlled her once, but not anymore. “Is there something else either of you would like to drink?” she asked.

  Jerry flapped a hand in her direction. “Naw, I’ll stick with H2O.”

  Michelle looked at his girlfriend. “How about you?”

  “I’d like a glass of root beer, please.” The smirk on her lips remained. “You do serve that here, don’t you?”

  “Of course. I’ll get your beverages while you’re helping yourselves to the buffet.” Michelle turned and hurried away. At least one of them has a few manners—even though Nicki saying please is the only good manner she’s shown. I hope that poor woman knows what she’s in for, dating a creep like Jerry. Wish I could warn her. Who knows, he could be cheating on her too. But then even if I did alert Nicki, she probably wouldn’t believe me. Hopefully, the pretty little blond will come to her senses before it’s too late, and run as far away as possible from Jerry. People like him don’t change overnight.

  Strasburg

  As Sara did the supper dishes with her grandmother that evening, she thought about the two photo albums she’d found after her mother died. She had been meaning to share them with Grandpa and Grandma but wanted to bring the albums out when Michelle was not around. Since Michelle was working the dinner shift at the restaurant, this was the perfect opportunity. The pictures inside the scrapbooks were of Sara as a child and also some of Mama. These special mementos were for her grandparents’ eyes only. Michelle was an outsider, not part of this family. Sara saw no reason to share the photos with her.

  “Would you and Grandpa like to join me in the living room after we finish the dishes?” Sara looked over at her grandmother. “I have something special I’d like to show you.”

  With a curious expression, Grandma nodded. “Why, certainly. Your grandpa went out to the barn to do a final check on the animals, but as soon as he comes in, we can gather in the other room.”

  “Sounds good.” Sara picked up another glass to dry. Since Grandma and Grandpa had no photographs in the house, she hoped they wouldn’t object to looking at the album she had brought with her from New Jersey.

  Half an hour later, Sara sat in the cozy but plain living room with her grandparents. Holding the albums in her lap, she’d taken a seat on the couch and asked them to sit on either side of her.

  Firewood crackled and popped from the warm blaze Grandpa had built in the firepl
ace soon after he’d returned to the house.

  “The day I found my mother’s old Bible I came across these two books filled with photos,” Sara began. “Since Mama is in many of the pictures, I thought you might want to see them.”

  Tipping her head to one side, Grandma looked at Grandpa as though seeking his permission. With only a slight hesitation, he gave an affirmative nod.

  Sara’s fingers trembled as she opened the first album. It began with a few pictures of Mama holding Sara when she was a baby. Even though Sara was still hurt by her mother’s deception, seeing the photos again made her long for what she had lost.

  Grandma’s eyes teared up as she pointed to the first photo. “Look, Willis, it’s our dochder, dressed in English clothes. And see here … Rhoda is holding a boppli.” She looked at Sara then gestured to the baby on Mama’s lap. “Is that you?”

  “Yes. And on the next several pages there are more pictures of Mama and me in different stages of me growing up.”

  Sara’s grandparents looked at every page in both albums. By the time they reached the last set of photos, Grandma’s handkerchief was wet with tears. Grandpa too looked like he might break down crying. It tugged on Sara’s heart to see how moved they were after seeing all these pictures of their only daughter.

  Grandma sniffed and wiped at the wetness on her cheeks. “Oh, how I wish we could have seen our precious girl before she died.” Using her fingertips, she made circles across her forehead. “It doesn’t seem fair.” Then, picking up the first album again, Sara’s grandma flipped slowly through the pages one more time, sometimes stopping to run her finger over certain photos.

  “If only Rhoda had come home or at least contacted us through the years.” Grandpa reached across the back of the couch and patted Grandma’s shoulder.

  Seeing the pain these two dear people had endured caused Sara to choke up. Oh Mama, you did a terrible thing when you ran away from home. Her nose burned with unshed tears, but she refused to give in to them, because she’d already done enough crying when her mother died. Sara still held the second album in her lap. She sat staring at one of the pictures on the last page where her mother sat beside Dean on the sofa. It had been taken soon after they were married. Oh Mama, how could you have hurt the ones you supposedly loved?

  Even though Sara loved her mother, she wasn’t sure she could forgive Mama for the lie she’d lived all those years. Keeping her past a secret from Sara was bad enough, but losing contact with such loving parents was unimaginable.

  At that moment, Sara made up her mind that as long as Grandma and Grandpa were still alive, she would be there for them. Sara’s grandparents deserved her love and undivided attention.

  Grandma handed the first album they’d looked at over to Grandpa so he could view the pictures again. It was understandable why that one held their interest more, since Sara’s mom had only left a few weeks prior to when many of those early photos were taken. Except for the English clothing she wore, their daughter, no doubt, looked the same as they remembered.

  Sara’s grandparents grew quiet, presumably both deep in thought. No one, and nothing, shall ever come between us, Sara determined in her heart. I will be here for Grandma and Grandpa for as long as they need me.

  Chapter 28

  When Michelle entered the kitchen the following morning, she felt guilty seeing Sara and Mary Ruth had already made breakfast. “Sorry for sleeping in. I should have been here to help.” She took a pitcher of Mary Ruth’s homemade grape juice from the refrigerator.

  Mary Ruth smiled. “It’s okay. Sara and I managed without your help today. You looked tired when you came home last night, so I thought you might want to sleep awhile longer this morning.”

  Michelle sighed. “I was tired and stressed. My afternoon went okay, but something happened during the dinner shift that really shook me up.”

  “What was it?” Sara asked. “Were they super busy at the restaurant?”

  “Nothing out of the ordinary.” Michelle pulled out a chair and sank into it with a moan. “My ex-boyfriend Jerry showed up with a new girlfriend. At least I thought she was new. Turns out he’d been dating her at the time he was seeing me.”

  Mary Ruth’s brows wrinkled. “Who is Jerry?”

  “He’s a guy from Philadelphia who I should never have gotten involved with.” Michelle’s lips curled. “He was an abusive control freak, and I’m glad I got away from him when I did.”

  Mary Ruth stepped behind the chair where Michelle sat and placed her hands on Michelle’s shoulders. “I am sorry you had a rough day. Did this Jerry fellow threaten to harm you in any way?”

  “No, but he made fun of the way I was dressed, and when I told him I planned to join the Amish church, he said he was well rid of me.” Michelle crossed her arms. “Even though the girl he was with acted kinda rude, I actually felt sorry for her. I’m sure she has no idea what Jerry is really like. In fact, she went along with his belittling comments, and seemed to enjoy it. He pretended to be charming when we first met, but it didn’t take long until his true colors were brought to light. His apologies and promises that never held true made the next ones seem less believable.” Michelle shook her head. “I was such a fool.”

  “Unfortunately, there are many people like your ex in this world.” Sara’s eyes appeared cold and flat. “They treat others with no respect—like they don’t amount to anything at all.”

  Michelle wasn’t sure if Sara was generalizing or referring to someone in particular. But it was obvious that Michelle wasn’t the only one with an unhappy past.

  Since it was Saturday, and Sara didn’t have to work, shortly before noon she decided to go down to the basement. Grandpa had dropped Grandma off at one of her friend’s for the day, and then he went to town to run several errands.

  When Michelle said she wanted to get some sewing done, Sara saw this as a good opportunity to go down to the basement to read more of the notes in the prayer jar she’d found.

  Beginning her descent into the darkness of the basement, it only took a moment for Sara to realize she’d forgotten a flashlight or a lantern. She refused to go into the musty cellar with no light to guide her down the worn, wooden steps, so she turned around and returned to the kitchen. At moments like this, Sara wondered if she would ever adjust to her grandparents’ simple life of no electricity in their home. Normally, it didn’t bother her so much, but sometimes she missed the ease of simply flipping a switch to turn on an overhead light.

  Once she had a flashlight in hand, Sara headed back down the stairs, feeling a little more secure. While she wasn’t afraid of the dark, Grandpa and Grandma’s basement seemed kind of creepy—not to mention that Sara needed to see where she was going. She certainly didn’t want to trip over something or run into an icky spider’s web. Just thinking about those horrible eight-legged creatures gave her the willies.

  At the bottom of the steps, Sara flashed the beam of light around the basement, searching for the battery-operated light Grandma kept near her antiquated washing machine. Sure enough, it was on the small table beside the washer.

  Sara clicked it on, and a beam of light illuminated the area. Grandma kept the part of the basement where she washed clothes clean and organized. But some other areas were cluttered with boxes filled with all kinds of items. Looking past them, Sara aimed her flashlight in the direction of the shelves where the empty canning jars were kept. Climbing up on a stool, it didn’t take long until she spotted the jar full of papers—the one Michelle referred to as a prayer jar.

  The fact that two prayer jars existed—one here and one in the barn—fascinated Sara. Since neither she nor Michelle knew who had written the notes inside the jars, the mystery of it kept calling to her.

  Sara took the jar down and seated herself on the stool. Unscrewing the old lid, she reached inside and pulled out one of the notes. It was different than the ones she’d read before. “Turn your cares into prayers.” Five simple words, but not possible for Sara. She had too many cares in
this world, and no amount of praying would remove them. If things went wrong, it was her responsibility to make them right whenever she could. The challenge of fixing other people’s mistakes proved difficult, but at least she could try. One thing Sara had learned over the years was to take responsibility for her own actions and make the best of the hand she’d been dealt. Although she would never admit it out loud, there were times when she felt as if her world had spun out of control, and she was powerless to stop it.

  Sara folded the piece of paper, put it back in the jar, and took another one. This one quoted Proverbs 28:26: “He that trusteth in his own heart is a fool: but whoso walketh wisely, he shall be delivered.”

  Sara shifted on the stool. It was hard to sit still. So I’m a fool if I trust in my own heart, huh? She crossed her right leg and bounced her foot up and down. How’s a person supposed to walk wisely if they don’t trust in their own heart, which I assume means, thoughts?

  Grandma’s religious. I’ll bet anything she’s the one who wrote these messages. Sara wished she felt free to ask her grandmother about them, but bringing up the prayer jars she and Michelle had found might be like opening Pandora’s fabled box. For now at least, she would keep quiet about the prayer jars. Maybe someday, if the time was right, she would ask Grandma about them.

  When Sara came up from the basement, she went to Grandma’s sewing room to see how Michelle was doing. Seeing no sign of her there, Sara headed for the kitchen.

  Michelle wasn’t in that room either, but she had left a note on the table saying she’d gone over to the Kings’ place to see Ezekiel.

  I wonder how long she’ll be there. Sara glanced out the kitchen window. I hope she gets back before Lenore shows up to make greeting cards with us.