A Merry Heart

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  Miriam wondered if Mary Ellen’s father had been in a hurry that morning or was completely ignorant as to a child’s nutritional needs. She had seen some of the pitiful lunches he’d made Mary Ellen in the past, but none of them had looked this bad.

  Miriam shook her head and sighed, wishing she hadn’t already eaten her own lunch, for she would have shared some of her sandwich with Mary Ellen. That man really does need a wife, and Mary Ellen surely needs a mother.

  She looked away from the little girl and directed her gaze out the window. She had to get her mind on something else. She could feel one of her sick headaches coming on and knew she had to ward it off, so she reached into her desk drawer and retrieved a bottle of white willow bark capsules. The Thermos of water that normally sat on her desk was half full, so she popped two capsules into her mouth and swallowed them down.

  Miriam was relieved when all the children had finished their lunches and filed outside to play. Now maybe she would have a few minutes of peace. But that was not to be. After only a brief time, a commotion outside ended her solitude.

  When Miriam went out to investigate, she found a group of children gathered around Mary Ellen. This was not the first time she’d witnessed some of them picking on the child, and she wondered what the problem could be.

  Mary Ellen lay crumpled on the ground, whimpering pathetically, while several of the older boys, including two of the Hoelwarths, pointed at her and jeered. John Hoelwarth held a long stick in his hand and was poking Mary Ellen with it. “Get up, baby Hilty. Quit your cryin’. You’re such a little boppli!”

  Angrily, Miriam grabbed the stick from John and whirled him around to face her. “What is going on here, and why are you poking at a defenseless little girl and calling her a baby?”

  John hung his head as he made little circles in the dirt with the toe of his boot. “I was only tryin’ to make her quit bawling. She sounds like one of my daed’s heifers.”

  The children’s laughter rang out, vibrating through Miriam’s tensed body. “Quiet!” she shouted. “I want to know why Mary Ellen was crying, and why you’ve been teasing her again.”

  “Look at her hair, Teacher,” Sara King said. “She hasn’t got a mamm, and her daed can’t fix it so it stays up the way it should. She looks pretty silly, don’t ya think?”

  Miriam bent down and gently pulled Mary Ellen to her feet. “Come inside now. I’ll fix your hair and clean you up.” To the other children, she said, “You may all stay outside until I call you. Then we’ll discuss what’s happened here.” She turned and led Mary Ellen to the schoolhouse.

  It took nearly half an hour for Miriam to get the child calmed down, cleaned up, and her hair put back in place.

  “Try not to let the kinner’s teasing bother you,” Miriam said. “Some of the older ones like to make trouble. Everyone but you will be made to stay after school.”

  “It don’t matter,” Mary Ellen said with a shake of her head. “They’ll always tease me, ’cause I have no mamm. If Mama were alive still, she’d sew my dresses so the hems stayed up. She would fix me good lunches like the others have, and she’d do better with my hair then Pappy does. He tries real hard, but he can’t do some things the way a mudder can.” Mary Ellen sniffed deeply, although she did manage a weak smile. “Teacher Mim, I sure wish you was my mamm.”

  Miriam swallowed hard. There was no doubt about it. Mary Ellen needed her. For that matter, Amos probably did, too. And as much as she hated to admit it, she needed them—or at least their home to live in. She knew she could never give up her faith to marry Nick, and perhaps a marriage without love wouldn’t be such a bad thing. If she married Amos, all concerned would have mutual needs met.

  Heartrending though the decision was, Miriam knew what she wanted to do. She would tell Amos that she had changed her mind and decided to accept his proposal, and she must do it soon before she lost her nerve.

  I will not tease” had been written on the blackboard one hundred times by each of the boys who had tormented Mary Ellen, and Miriam had kept the entire class after school and given them a lecture on kindness.

  It had been a long, emotionally exhausting day at school, and Miriam was glad it was finally over. Now she must ride over to the Hiltys’ and speak to Amos before she lost her nerve. The decision to marry him had not been an easy one, and her mind was full of questions. Would he still want to marry her? Would Mary Ellen be happy about it? What would her own family think? Most of all, she wondered if she could really make herself go through with it.

  Miriam poured herself a glass of water and swallowed the two white willow bark capsules she had put in her mouth. If she was going to face Amos, it had better not be with a pounding headache. With a sigh of resignation, she gathered up her things and headed out the door.

  I

  “I love you, Grandma,” Rebekah said as she smiled up at Anna, her pale blue eyes gleaming in the sunlight that streamed through Anna’s bedroom window.

  Anna smiled in return and pushed Rebekah’s wheelchair closer to the African violets sitting on her window ledge. “I love you, too, child.”

  “I like the purple ones best,” Rebekah said, reaching out to touch the tip of one leafy bloom.

  “Jah, I agree.”

  Anna knew there weren’t many things Rebekah could do without the use of her legs, but helping water and prune the plants was one thing she could do to make herself feel useful. Besides, Rebekah seemed taken with the pretty flowers and was always eager to help out whenever Anna said it was time for watering, pruning, or repotting some of the plants that had grown too big for their containers.

  “I’m glad you came to live with us, Grandma. Otherwise, I would have had to come all the way over to your house to see your pretty houseplants.” Rebekah sighed. “Of course, someone would have to drive me there, since I can’t walk to your place the way I used to do.”

  A stab of regret pierced Anna’s heart. She hated to see any of her family suffer.

  “I’m glad I live here, too,” she said, patting Rebekah on top of her head.

  “Mama says you write stories about me sometimes for the newspaper,” Rebekah said, changing the subject.

  “Jah, that’s true. I write about many things that go on in our community.”

  “Do you think I could write some stories for the paper?”

  Anna smiled. “I don’t see why not. In fact, someday after I’m gone, maybe you can take over my column.”

  “I’d like that, but I don’t want you to leave—not ever.”

  “If God allows it, I hope to be around for a long time yet.” Anna motioned to another one of her plants. “After all, who would keep these pretty violets watered if I wasn’t here?”

  Rebekah giggled. “I guess I could water ’em, but it’s a lot more fun when we do it together, don’t ya think?”

  “Jah, everything is always more fun when you have someone to do it with.” Anna’s thoughts turned to Miriam, who seemed to prefer being alone these days. Or maybe she just doesn’t like me butting into her business.

  Anna closed her eyes and lifted a silent prayer. Heavenly Father, I’ve asked this before, I know, but I’m beseeching You to fill my daughter’s heart with peace, joy, and love. Oh, and would You remind me if necessary that it’s You who can work on Miriam’s heart, not me? Amen.

  I

  Mary Ellen was sitting on the front porch, playing with a fluffy white kitten, when Miriam pulled into the yard. The child waved and ran toward Miriam as soon as she climbed down from her buggy. “Teacher Mim, you came to visit! Look, my hem’s still in place,” she said, lifting the corner of her dress.

  Miriam nodded. “I see that, and I also see that your hair is in place yet.”

  Mary Ellen’s grin stretched ear to ear. “You did a good job with it. Don’t tell Pappy I said so, but you’re much better at fixin’ hair than he is.”

  Miriam smiled. She couldn’t help but like the sweet little girl. Mary Ellen obviously needed a woman to train her to
do all the feminine things her father was unable to do. “Speaking of your daed,” Miriam said, “where is he? I need to talk to him.”

  “He’s out in his shop. I can take you there, if you want.”

  “Danki for offering, but I think it would be best if you stayed on the porch and played with your kitten. Your daed and I have some grown-up things we need to say to each other. We’ll join you on the porch when we’re done. How’s that sound?”

  Mary Ellen’s eyes widened. “You’re not gonna tell Pappy about those boys teasin’ me today, are you?”

  Miriam shook her head. “What I have to say to him has nothing to do with the Hoelwarth boys.”

  The child released a sigh of obvious relief. “I’ll play ’til you’re done talking. Then maybe we can all have cookies and milk.”

  “Jah, maybe so,” she said, turning toward Amos’s blacksmith shop.

  Miriam had never been inside his shop before, and when she entered the building a few minutes later, she saw no sign of Amos but was surprised at how neat and orderly everything looked. She noticed a large wooden table with several small compartments, each filled neatly with tools of all shapes and sizes. A stack of firewood stood along one wall next to a tall brick fireplace and an anvil. A large rack also rested nearby, with horseshoes of all sizes hanging from it. A metal desk, a few chairs, and a filing cabinet took up the corner area near the door, and a stack of magazines lay on a small table nearby. Probably for customers to browse as they wait for their horses to be shod, she thought. Amos may not do such a good job of putting his daughter’s hair in place, but he sure runs a neat, organized place of business.

  “Amos, are you about?” Miriam called, cupping her hands around her mouth.

  A few seconds later, he stepped through the doorway of the smaller room that was attached to the main part of his shop. “Oh, it’s you, Miriam. I—I was just cleanin’ things up in the other room and didn’t realize anyone had come in,” he said, looking kind of red-faced and flustered.

  “I just came in.” Miriam made a sweeping gesture of the room. “This is quite impressive. There must be a lot of work involved in what you do.”

  He nodded. “Jah, always seems to be a lot of horses that need shoeing.”

  Feeling the need to stall for time, as her resolve began to weaken, Miriam decided to question him about his business. “How often do horses need to be shod?”

  “You don’t know?”

  She shook her head. “Papa used to take care of that kind of thing, and now that he’s gone, it’s become Lewis’s job to see that our horses are looked after.”

  “Well, most need shoeing every six to eight weeks on the average. In the summertime the pavement is softer because of the heat, so that can loosen the shoes.” Amos leaned against his workbench and folded his arms. “Plus, the horses are stamping at flies all the time, and that action can wear down the shoes pretty good.”

  “Do they need to be shod that often during the winter?”

  “Not usually. Most horses can go eight or even ten weeks between visits to my shop during the colder months.”

  “I see.” Miriam shuffled her feet a few times, wondering how best to broach the subject of his earlier marriage proposal.

  “I want to thank you for mending Mary Ellen’s dress this morning,” Amos said, taking their conversation in a different direction.

  “No problem. I was glad to do it.”

  “So what brings you out our way? Does your horse need new shoes or did you need to speak with me about Mary Ellen?”

  “Neither one. Actually, I. . .uh. . .came to talk about your offer of marriage.”

  “Really?”

  She nodded.

  “Have you been thinking it over then?”

  “I have, and if the offer’s still open, then I’ve decided that I will marry you.”

  Amos dropped his arms to his sides and took a step toward Miriam. “I don’t know what caused you to change your mind, but I’m glad you did. I think Mary Ellen will be real pleased about this, too.”

  “Mary Ellen is the reason I did change my mind,” Miriam stated truthfully. No point in letting him think otherwise. “I’ve come to the conclusion that the child needs a woman’s care.” She paused for a quick breath, hoping she hadn’t offended him. “It’s not that you aren’t doing a fine job with her, but—”

  “I understand what you’re trying to say. My daughter needs a mudder. She needs someone who can do all the feminine things I can’t do for her. As you know, I do have some concerns about how your attitude might affect Mary Ellen, and if there’s to be a marriage, I need your word that you won’t let Mary Ellen see your bitterness. It’s important that you help me train her in God’s ways, and we both must set a good example for her.” He reached out and touched her arm.

  Miriam pulled away, feeling as if she’d been stung by a bee and wondering if she had done the right thing after all. Could she really keep from letting her bitter heart be noticeable to Mary Ellen? Could she set the child a good example?

  “I—I promise to do my best by Mary Ellen,” she finally murmured.

  “Danki.” Amos smiled. “I need you as well, Miriam. I need a wife.”

  She gulped. “Do—do you mean just for cooking and cleaning, or in every way?”

  He shuffled his feet and stared at the concrete floor. “I. . . that is. . .of course I would like a physical relationship with my wife, but if you don’t feel ready—”

  “I’m not ready. I may never be ready for that, and if this will be a problem for you, then it might be best if we forget about getting married.”

  He shook his head. “No, please. I’ll wait until you feel ready for my physical touch. Until then, we’ll live together as friends and learn more about one another. Maybe as our friendship grows, things will change between us.”

  “I don’t want to give you any false hope, Amos. I don’t think I can ever love you,” Miriam said as gently as she knew how.

  “We’ll see how it goes.” Amos turned toward the door with his shoulders slumped. “Shall we go up to the house and tell Mary Ellen our news? I’m sure she will be glad.”

  “I—I hope so.” Miriam could hardly believe Amos had accepted her conditions so easily. She figured he must be desperate for a housekeeper and a mother for his child. Of course, she’d had to agree to set a good example for Mary Ellen and teach her about spiritual things. She just hoped she wouldn’t fall short of that promise.

  Mary Ellen was still on the porch playing with her kitten when Amos and Miriam joined her a few minutes later. She looked up at them expectantly. “Can we have some cookies and milk, Pappy?”

  He smiled down at her. “Jah. That sounds like a fine idea. Let’s go inside, and we’ll sit at the table, eat our cookies, and have a little talk. Miriam and I have something important we want to tell you.”

  When they entered the house, Miriam realized it was the first time she’d been inside the Hilty home since Ruth’s funeral. The place wasn’t dirty, just cluttered and unkempt. If there had ever been any doubt in her mind about whether Amos needed a wife or not, it was erased. The touch of a woman in the house was greatly needed.

  Amos poured tall glasses of milk, while Mary Ellen went to the cookie jar and got out some cookies that were obviously store-bought. When they’d all taken seats at the table, Amos cleared his throat a couple of times and said, “Mary Ellen, how would you like it if Pappy got married again?”

  The child tipped her head and looked at him with a quizzical expression. “A new mamm for me?”

  Amos nodded. “And a fraa for me.”

  Mary Ellen turned to face Miriam. “Is it you, Teacher Mim? Are you gonna be Pappy’s wife?”

  “How would you feel about that?” Miriam asked.

  “I’d like it very much.” Mary Ellen gave Miriam a wide grin. “When can ya come to live with us?”

  Amos chuckled. “Not ’til we’re married, little one.”

  “When will that be?”

>   Amos looked at Miriam, and she shrugged. “As soon as possible, I suppose.”

  He nodded in agreement. “I’ll speak to Bishop Benner right away.”

  Miriam’s family seemed pleased when she told them she was going to marry Amos—Mom most of all. Miriam was certain that everyone thought she was marrying Amos because she had changed her mind about him and perhaps had even come to love him. She had no intention of telling them otherwise.

  However, Miriam had a hunch that Crystal hadn’t been so easily deceived. She had acted a bit strange when Miriam gave her and Jonas the news, although she hadn’t said anything more than a pleasant “congratulations.”

  I suppose I’ll have to tell her the truth if she asks, Miriam thought as she cleaned up the kitchen after breakfast one morning. Crystal had always been able to see right through her, even when they were children and Miriam had tried to hide her feelings when she was upset about something.

  Forcing her thoughts aside, Miriam finished her cleaning and had just decided to take a walk, when Crystal showed up.

  “I came by to see if you’d like to go to town with me to do some shopping,” she said, stepping into the kitchen.

  “Right now?”

  “Jah.”

  “I don’t feel much like shopping today,” Miriam said as the two of them took seats at the table. “But I appreciate you asking.”

  “Do you have other plans for the day?”

  “Not really. Just the usual work around here.” Miriam chose not to mention that she had planned to take a walk.

  “Then let’s get out for a while. It’ll do us both some good. Ever since school let out for the summer, you’ve been staying around here too much.”

  “I like being at home. It feels safe, and I don’t have to answer to anyone.” Miriam’s chin quivered as she sat on the edge of her kitchen chair, blinking back the tears that had gathered in her eyes. She felt Crystal’s arm encircle her shoulders.