by Sarah Price
“Such a charming home Mary has,” Hannah said as they walked. “I thought her display of pink china pieces and ceramics was lovely, didn’t you?”
Indeed, Mary’s small abode was decorated as plain as possible, but still her personality came through in her collection of tea cups, vases, and plates, all in her favorite color: pink.
“She will be one to enjoy the Christmas gift we are planning, for sure and certain,” Emma pointed out.
“Oh, it’s such a sad state,” Hannah sighed. “Aging and being all alone. I’m sure she must miss her husband very much. But at least she was married and has children to see to her needs. I’d so hate to be alone and never marry.”
There was something wistful in Hannah’s words, and Emma immediately worried that she was thinking of Ralph Martin’s letter. Why was she in such a hurry to wed? Was hope of marriage the real reason she left Ohio for Lancaster county? Not knowing what to say, Emma chose to maintain her silence as they continued down the road. A buggy passed nearby. The driver waved at them and Emma lifted her left hand in greeting to the driver, despite not immediately recognizing who it was. But she could have been recognized, and it would be considered unfriendly not to return the acknowledgment.
After a few moments of silence Hannah turned to Emma and surprised her by saying, “Forgive me if I seem to pry, but it’s a wonder, Emma, that you have not married as of yet. You are so well thought of in the g’may; nary a person has anything but the highest praise for your devotion to God and the community. And, if I may be so bold, you are beautiful, talented, and charming. Why, I’d think you’d have plenty of suitors asking to take you for a buggy ride home after the singings on Sundays, that’s for sure and certain!”
Emma’s response was a simple laugh.
“It’s true!” Hannah cried out in alarm. “I don’t see cause for laughing! I did not intend to make fun!”
“Dear Hannah,” Emma began, her voice patient and gentle. “Don’t worry. I did not take it the wrong way and you are definitely not prying. Your praise is flattering, but I don’t believe it is warranted. Even so, the issue isn’t whether I am beautiful, talented, or charming; the issue is whether or not I can find someone else who shares those same traits! Quite frankly, in the absence of such a man at this point in my life, it might come as a surprise to you to learn that I have no intention of ever marrying!”
The confidence in her announcement and the firmness in her voice made Hannah stop walking and reach out to touch Emma’s arm. “Why, Emma! I don’t believe you really mean that.”
She smiled. “But I do.”
Hannah frowned. “That would be such a sad thing, for I think you’d make a wonderful fraa, and I cannot believe that my opinion is not shared by many young men in this community!”
Casually Emma shrugged. “Mayhaps, but I shall not find out! I’m perfectly content to remain an old maedel. Being on your own does have its advantages!”
At this statement, Hannah gasped. “Emma! That would be so very lonely, don’t you think? No kinner. Whom would you be tending to?”
A light laugh escaped Emma’s lips and she batted a hand in Hannah’s direction. “Nee, not so lonely at all. I have my daed to tend to, Hannah. And a wide circle of right gut friends. I prefer my independence too much, I reckon. I’m not like my schwester. Indeed, Irene’s perfectly content to stay at home and tend to her boppli and the other kinner.”
“But when you become elderly, Emma, who will take care of you? Are you looking forward to being a poor old maedel?”
“My dear Hannah, tell me: is it the being poor or the being old that bothers you the most?” She didn’t wait for her friend to respond before she continued. “Thanks to Daed selling his business, I am fortunate that I shall never be the former, and despite our deepest desires, none of us can avoid being the latter.”
The reaction on Hannah’s face spoke of her surprise at Emma’s words. For a long moment both women remained silent. Hannah seemed to be trying to collect herself after hearing Emma’s short speech about marriage. “If you are so against marriage,” she finally said, “it’s a wonder why you would push such unions on others.”
“Do you think that I push them?” Emma replied at once. The thought of being perceived in such a light struck Emma with a degree of dread and dismay. While she had encouraged Anna and Samuel’s courtship with that initial invitation for supper, she had never considered herself as pushing marriage on anyone.
“I don’t mean to, Hannah. In fact, I think we just had a discussion recently against such a union.”
“You mean Ralph Martin then?”
“Exactly!” Emma looked pleased that Hannah was following her train of thought. “If I simply pushed unions, to use your exact words, I would have persuaded you to accept his call for courtship.”
“That is true,” Hannah reluctantly agreed, breaking eye contact for an instant.
“You, however,” Emma went on, encouraged by her friend’s body language, “were asking me about my intentions for my own marriage. And while I know that many young women marry for the sake of convenience, to work alongside a companion and to create a comfortable future for themselves, I have no need for such comfort. My daed does not need me to work outside of the house. My quilting brings in a fair amount of extra income, which, by the way, I do not really have a need for but enjoy using for helping others. And I will be well tended to in my old age as I intend to stay at our little house. Unless I were to fall in love, there really is no need for me to marry, now, is there?”
After such an assertive proclamation, there was little left for Hannah to offer by way of an argument, but she had a hard time letting go of the most pressing question in her mind.
“But to be so alone, like Mary Yoder? Or a maedel, like Hetty Blank?” The expression in Hannah’s voice conveyed her disbelief in what Emma had just said. While it was not unusual for Amish women to remain single, Emma’s admission seemed to strike Hannah as being contrary to her new friend’s disposition.
Emma shook her head at this last statement from Hannah. “Ja vell, I think I’m a bit better suited to conform to society than Hetty Blank. I’m certainly a bit more capable of maintaining my independence without a need for assistance from the g’may. Our church district members can focus on the needs of the disadvantaged widows rather than mine.” The noise of a horse and buggy approaching from behind interrupted her train of thought, and Emma glanced over her shoulder to see who it was. An older man with a long white beard lifted his hand to wave to her, and with a broad smile Emma waved back. “And I too have nieces and nephews that will help me, if needed, as I age,” she added.
They were approaching the next stop on their tour of the neighborhood, and as a matter of good form, Emma quickly changed the topic.
“Now, here is a lovely woman,” she said as she gestured toward the front gate. “Katie Miller. But she’s been feeling poorly these past few weeks. I brought her some homemade chicken soup.” Emma smiled brightly. “Anna always made me chicken soup when I was not well. Nothing like good, wholesome chicken and vegetable soup to make anyone feel better, don’t you think?”
Katie Miller lived in the converted two-car garage of a more modern home. She rented it from another Amish family who had bought it several years ago from a Mennonite neighbor. A widow, Katie had tragically survived all of her own kinner but one, and that son had not joined the Amish church. That left Katie Miller no other option than to live alone, in the rented section of a fellow church member’s house instead of with her own family. And, with poor health, she looked forward to Emma’s visit each week.
The visit was short, only thirty minutes in duration. Emma fluttered about the small house, making certain to heat up the large bowl of soup for Katie Miller—certainly her only hot meal for the day—and serving it to her when it was just shy of being too hot. While the older woman ate her soup, Emma sat perched upon her chair and chattered away about the different happenings among the families in their g’may.
She laughed often and would pause to ask questions of Katie, a way to keep the woman involved in the conversation despite her days spent living alone in the small apartment.
All too soon it was time to leave. Emma quickly washed and dried the dishes and utensils that she had used, so that Katie wouldn’t have any mess to tend. Before leaving, she made certain that everything was in order and Katie was content in her recliner chair, her Bible nearby so that she could read while the light was still streaming through the windows in the room where she sat, alone with her memories.
No sooner had they shut the screen door behind them than Emma heard someone call out her name. It was Paul Esh, riding down the road in an open carriage. She almost gasped. What good fortune and how timely, she thought as she nudged Hannah’s arm with a little too much enthusiasm.
“Look!” she whispered hoarsely, nodding her head toward the approaching carriage. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he stops to offer us a ride!”
Both women waved to him, and sure enough, Paul stopped the horse in front of Katie Miller’s driveway. With a broad smile, he gestured for the two women to come and join him in the carriage.
“If I know anything, Emma Weaver,” he laughed, “you are making your rounds and your next stop is at my aendi’s house and then off to spend time with the Blanks, ain’t so! Let me take you both. It will be faster and I could certainly use the good company, I reckon.”
Without hesitation, Emma accepted the kind offer and hurried to the side of the carriage. She placed her basket in the back section, making certain that it was properly secured. The slight delay permitted Hannah to climb first into the wagon so that she was seated next to Paul. With a smile, Emma joined her.
When the horse was finally moving again Paul leaned forward and peered at Emma first and then Hannah. “I see you have company today on your weekly rounds,” he said cheerfully. “That’s right gut to see you bringing your new friend with you to visit the women. I’m sure they are most appreciative, ain’t so?”
With the slightest of movements, Emma tried to nudge Hannah to respond, but no words escaped her friend’s lips. When it became clear that Hannah was not about to speak, Emma did so for her. “I’m not certain who enjoyed meeting Hannah more,” she started, “Mary Yoder or Katie Miller! And Hannah made the most delicious soup for Katie Miller!” Emma couldn’t ignore the sharp look that Hannah gave her. “Well, she helped heat it up, anyway.”
“Without doubt, the women appreciate any and all kindness shown to them. I find I learn so much from spending time with them as well. Such wisdom they carry upon their shoulders, if only the youth would pause to listen.” Paul had a way of speaking that made everything sound noble and good. His eyes sparkled as he talked, and Emma was pleased to notice that he was looking at Hannah every bit as much as he was looking at her. “Putting others’ needs before our own is just one way that we can walk with Jesus,” he added.
When Hannah did not respond, Emma, once again, took the opportunity to do so. “Perhaps you have heard that Hannah is helping me collect Bible verses to put together special books to give to the elderly this Christmas. With our quilt almost finished, we’ve begun working on this new project, and it’s coming along quite nicely. She’s going to organize the verses and rewrite them for the different books to give as gifts!”
“Are you then?” He seemed genuinely impressed. “And what are these verses about, I might ask?”
Hannah lifted her eyes to look at Emma for a moment, as if silently begging Emma to respond. When Emma remained silent, Hannah had no choice but to answer. “Well,” she began, “we are asking for people to write their favorite Bible verses, so there is no particular subject. It could be any topic of interest to them.”
“We should have our final verses this weekend,” Emma added. “My schwester, Irene, and her family are to visit. I just know that she’ll want to contribute to this project. She grew up and worshipped with these women too.”
Paul tilted back the straw hat he was wearing and nodded his head in approval. “Why, I know you have not asked me, but I should like to contribute my own favorite Bible verse to your collection as well!”
Emma watched as the color rose to Hannah’s cheeks. Despite her plainness, there was a demure beauty to the young woman, and it was clear to Emma that Paul had noticed it. If only they had some more time alone, she thought. And then she realized exactly how to arrange that.
“Oh, help!”
Paul turned to look at Emma. “What is it, Emma?”
She waved her hand toward him and shook her head. “Silly me. I left my sampler at Katie Miller’s.”
He pulled back on the reins, stopping the horse. “I shall happily turn around so that you can fetch it. It won’t take but five minutes.”
Emma was quick to cut him off. “Danke, Paul. That’s a right nice offer. But I don’t mind walking by myself to retrieve it. Mayhaps it’s more helpful if you took Hannah to your aendi’s house. She’ll be waiting for her visitors. I can meet up with the both of you at the Blanks. I’d feel rather poorly if your aendi missed out on visiting with you. She dare not suffer because of my silly forgetfulness!”
Reluctantly Paul agreed, but only after Emma insisted again, and without waiting for another word, jumped out of the carriage. She waved good-bye to them both and hurried down the road in the direction they had just come. She glanced over her shoulder only once, smiling when she saw Paul continue driving the horse along the road to his aunt Sarah’s house.
A little time alone, Emma pondered, will do the two much-needed good. The time spent walking alone did not bother her in the least. She would appreciate the exercise anyway. Indeed, she rather enjoyed it, for a warm feeling of delight washed over her as she dreamed of an upcoming wedding of Hannah Souder to Paul Esh.
As she was walking toward Katie Miller’s house, Emma thought of Hannah’s previous words: “If you are so against marriage it’s a wonder why you would push such unions on others.” And then it struck her: if she had so vehemently refuted her friend’s allegations, she pondered, why would Hannah’s potential nuptials with Paul Esh so vividly permeate her imagination? Why did she enjoy the idea of others being wed, while she would not even entertain the thought of putting herself in a similar situation?
Was she becoming, after all, a matchmaker? In her culture these things were better left to the Almighty. Overt matchmaking was not the way of the Amish, but certainly nudges here or there in the right direction couldn’t hurt.
Chapter Six
WITH THE KINNER running through the house, and run they could, the noise level was greater than normal. Emma, having a hard time keeping her countenance, found herself more than once laughing at the antics of her young nieces and nephews. Her usually quiet kitchen had become a lively playground this Saturday morning, chock-full of little voices, rowdy laughter, and the sounds of bare feet padding across the freshly washed and waxed linoleum floor. There was a warmth in the air that didn’t come from the outdoors but from within the heart.
“May I hold the baby again, if you don’t mind?”
Her older sister gratefully handed her infant son to Emma. While she didn’t say so, she clearly looked relieved to have a break from holding the baby. “He’s still sleeping, but if you hold him, I can see to the bread.”
“You always did make the best wheat bread,” Emma complimented her sister as she carefully took baby George in her arms. “Daed still compares my loaves to yours, can you believe!” She laughed, nonplussed that her own baking skills did not measure up to Irene’s. “He’ll be ever so glad to have yours on hand for a while. I’m both grateful and eager to be able to freeze a few loaves to hold him over.”
With the oven door open, the enticing fragrance of warm dough permeated the room. To Emma, freshly baked bread was the most welcoming smell in any Amish kitchen. Irene poked at the loaves. Deciding that they were finished, she reached for a potholder and began to pull out the pans.
“Is he still on that whol
e-wheat kick, then?” she asked, setting the metal bread pans on a rusty cooling rack.
“Oh, that and more!” her sister replied. She pretended to scowl as she teased, “Don’t dare mention a word about cookies or cake in his presence. You’ll get an earful of rantings, for sure and certain, about the evils of sugar!” Still laughing, Emma cradled the baby gently in her arms. She leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. A whiff of lavender caressed her nose and she smiled. “I just love how babies smell, don’t you?”
Irene didn’t have a chance to answer as her two older sons ran down the stairs, pushing and shoving at each other to see who could beat the other to the kitchen. “Henry and John Junior!” she scolded. “No running in the house!”
Neither boy seemed to hear her as they raced through the kitchen, almost knocking over their younger sisters who were playing with some blocks on the kitchen floor.
“Such energy,” Emma laughed as the boys burst through the door and bounced down the steps to play in the front yard.
Irene smoothed down the front of her black apron and sighed. To Emma, her older sister looked worn out and tired. With dark circles under her eyes and graying hair, she had aged tremendously since giving birth to her fifth child just four months prior. “Energy that is wasted on the young, I fear.”
“Oh, Irene!” Emma frowned at her sister’s lament. While Emma always tended to err on the side of positive thinking and rainbows, her older sister, like their father, had always been one to look at the dark side of things. During their growing-up years Emma had excused the difference in their perspectives with the fact that Irene had felt the loss of their maem more than she had. But if Emma had hoped that marriage and a family of her own would replace her sister’s clouds with sunshine, she had been sorely mistaken. “You just need the baby to be a little more independent and then you’ll regain your energy, I’m sure.”