A Mother's Love

by Charlotte Hubbard

  Rose hitched the mare to a fence post and took her daughter’s hand. They entered the building through the front door, pausing to look around.

  “Look, Mamma! There’s little birds in this glass cage!” Gracie walked over to the corner of the lobby to gaze at the tiny, colorful birds, which gave Rose a moment to get her bearings. Sherrie’s office—or a check-in desk—would surely be near the front door, but all she saw in the lobby area were clusters of upholstered chairs and tables with lamps, where folks could sit to visit. A big glass aquarium sat against one wall, and Gracie went over to look at the colorful fish swimming in it.

  “Mrs. Raber? Hello!”

  Rose turned to see a tall, slender Englishwoman with glasses and light brown hair in layers around her face. “Jah, I’m Rose—and this is my Gracie,” Rose said as she gestured toward the aquarium.

  “We have security cameras in the lobby, so I can watch who comes and goes from my office,” the woman explained. “I’m Sherrie West, and I’m pleased you agreed to come, Rose. Would you like to look around before we talk?”

  “That would be gut,” Rose replied. “I’ve been to Morning Star many times, but never in the senior center. Everything looks so bright and cheerful.”

  Sherrie gestured back toward the hallway. “We’ve recently repainted all the public areas and the dining room. We do our best to make the center feel like home for our residents—and we host craft sessions, card parties, and other activities that seniors from around town come to as well.”

  Rose nodded. She was about to mention that Plain families cared for their elderly members at home, no matter how ill or addled they were—but she sensed Sherrie might interpret such a remark as a criticism. “How many folks live here?” she asked instead.

  “We have thirty-five small apartments, and right now thirty-two of them are occupied,” Sherrie replied. “Our residents are ambulatory—they must be able to come to our dining room, although many of them use walkers or scooters to get around.”

  “Scooters?” Gracie piped up. “When I get bigger, I want a scooter!”

  Rose squeezed Gracie’s hand in warning, but Sherrie stopped in the double doorway of the dining room to look at her. “And how old are you, Gracie?”

  “Five! I getta go to school pretty soon!”

  Sherrie nodded. “It’s good to be excited about going to school. Let’s go this way and look at the kitchen, shall we?”

  When they went through the double swinging doors, Rose’s eyes widened. A huge stainless-steel stove and oven took up the center of the big room—and she was relieved to see that they were gas, like the stove at home. A large refrigerator and freezer lined the back wall, along with deep stainless-steel sinks and what she thought must be a dishwasher. “Will I be doing the dishes after I cook the meals?” Rose asked, gesturing toward the intimidating machine.

  “No, my assistant, Alison, and our housekeepers take care of that. Mrs. Yutzy, who just left us, didn’t want to run the dishwasher, either.”

  Rose nodded. “Mrs. Yutzy got ill, you said?”

  “Yes. And before her multiple sclerosis limited her mobility, Frieda was with us for nearly ten years.” Sherrie opened the big freezer so Rose could look inside. “She and I planned our menus a few weeks in advance and ordered most of the groceries from a food service. Do you cook mostly from scratch, Rose, or do you prefer to use box mixes?”

  Rose’s eyebrows shot up. “I can do whatever you prefer,” she replied carefully, “but I’m used to making all our bread, and cooking what we have in our freezer and in glass jars—the vegetables we’ve canned from our garden.”

  Sherrie’s smile made Rose feel like she’d given the right answer. “I think you’ll know exactly how to prepare the good old-fashioned meals our residents prefer. We’ve kept a lot of favorite recipes in this box as well, so you’ll have those to go by.”

  Rose nodded, encouraged. She opened one of the white metal cabinets above the back work counter, observing the neatly arranged baking supplies. “Who’s been cooking since Frieda Yutzy left? I smell sausage and French toast, I think.”

  “You have a good nose, Rose,” Sherrie said with a chuckle. “One of our housekeepers and I have been managing the meals, but we’ll be glad to have someone who knows her way around a kitchen. Are you still interested in the position?”

  “Oh, jah! I might make a few mistakes while I learn the routine, but I could do this job,” she replied. She was about to ask if Gracie could come with her each day, when her heart sank. Her little girl wasn’t in the kitchen anymore—and when Sherrie realized why Rose was glancing into the back corners of the room, her smile dimmed.

  “Have you recently been widowed, Rose?” Sherrie asked gently. “I bet, like most Amish women, you’re not comfortable leaving your child in someone else’s care.”

  “I—I lost my husband and my dat last summer, and my mamm twelve days ago,” Rose replied in a wilted voice. “I’ll just go find Gracie—”

  When Rose stepped out into the dining room, however, her daughter was nowhere in sight. She nearly choked on her disappointment. She’d just lost her chance at getting a good job she was capable of doing. When Rose heard a familiar little voice in the hallway, she spotted Gracie seated on a padded bench beside an elderly, stooped woman, not far from the aquarium. She was about to call out to her daughter, but Sherrie gently took hold of her arm.

  “Let’s watch for a moment,” the director said softly, nodding toward Gracie and the elderly lady. “Gladys hasn’t smiled this way for a long time. She’s very withdrawn, probably because she never has any visitors. Her family lives a ways from here, and they seem to have forgotten her—except to send her payments.”

  Rose was appalled. It bothered her that English folks felt so comfortable dropping off their older relatives to live in a facility like this. Although she couldn’t hear what the two of them were discussing, the happy tone of Gracie’s little-girl voice rang in the sitting area.

  Gracie spotted Rose in the doorway. “Mamma! This is Gladys,” she called out. “We’ve been talkin’ and she wants to be my new mammi! Can I come see her every day? Please, Mamma?”

  Rose’s breath caught and she swiped at a tear. “Oh, my,” she murmured to Sherrie. “Gracie really misses her grandmother. I—I can’t get her hopes up, though, about seeing Gladys—”

  Sherrie was suddenly smiling brightly. She walked over to the bench, rubbing Gladys’s stooped shoulder. “Looks like you’ve made a new friend, Gladys.”

  Rose approached cautiously, not wanting to interrupt this quiet conversation. When she opened her arms, Gracie slid off the bench and jogged into her embrace. “Mamma, I runned off, so I don’t get C for candy, huh?” she whispered apologetically. “But I saw this lady sittin’ all by herself—”

  “I do have a new friend,” Gladys agreed. She sat up straighter to smile at Gracie and Rose. “Such a sweet little girl, to talk to a lonely old lady. I hope I get to see you again, honey.”

  Sherrie turned toward Gracie, who now rested against Rose’s hip. “Your daughter seems very comfortable here,” she said. “Most kids shy away from our residents.”

  Rose held Sherrie’s gaze, sensing this situation might turn in her favor. “Gracie’s around older folks a lot at church. They love her sunshiny company,” she said quietly.

  “Gracie might be just the sort of sunshine we need around here,” the director continued in a thoughtful tone. “We’ll have to establish some rules about where and when Gracie can visit with our residents—”

  “Oh, Gracie knows about following rules. She just admitted that she’d broken one by leaving me,” Rose said as Gracie nodded. “She loves to make friends, and—and I would really appreciate it if she could come here with me—”

  “I’ll be real gut and stay with Mamma in the kitchen,” Gracie said solemnly. “Me and Mamma, we’re together.”

  “I can see that, Gracie, and it’s wonderful,” Sherrie agreed. “Shall we go to my office and talk ab
out the particulars of this job, Rose? Gracie, will you come with us? I have some magazines you can look at.”

  As they sat in Sherrie’s office, Rose’s thoughts whirled. The pay for this job seemed like quite a lot. She could work either five or six days a week—and she could start either tomorrow or Monday. After explaining what Rose would be doing, adding information about how the senior center operated, Sherrie complimented Gracie for sitting in a chair, quietly looking at magazines.

  Gracie beamed. “I’m readin’ about these deers and turkeys,” she stated, pointing to the photographs in the magazine. “You gotta watch out, or deers will eat the plants right outta your garden!”

  Sherrie laughed. “Yes, they will! That’s why we have a fence around our garden in the backyard. Would you like to see it?”

  Rose was still so excited she could hardly talk as they went down the hall. She was pleased to hear that the residents who were able could work in the garden with Sherrie’s assistant, who did most of the planting and picking. “Looks like you’ll be having peas and salad greens soon. I’m glad we’ll have fresh food to work with,” Rose added gratefully. “The longer I’m here, the more I like it.”

  “We’ll see you both on Monday then,” Sherrie said. “I’m so glad you’ve come to see us, Gracie. I think you’ll make a lot of friends here.”

  “Me too! See ya!”

  Rose’s heart skipped happily as she and Gracie went out the front door—after Gracie stopped to peer into the birds’ glass enclosure. The sun was shining high in the sky and Rose stopped in the parking lot to raise her face and soak up its bright rays. With the warmth on her face and a little hand in hers—and a way to make a living and support her child—Rose felt right with the world again.

  “C is for what, Gracie?” she asked as she lifted her daughter into the buggy.

  Gracie’s eyes widened. “I get candy, Mamma?”

  “Jah, you did really well at the senior center,” Rose said as she unhitched Daisy from the post. “And P is for the pizza we can have, and S is for the swings you can play on for a few minutes before we drive home.”

  As Rose stepped up into the buggy, Gracie scooted across the seat and threw her arms around Rose’s waist. “Candy and pizza and swings?” she asked gleefully. “Oh, Mamma, it’s a happy day, ain’t so?”

  “It’s a happy day,” Rose agreed as she directed Daisy toward the street. “ ‘This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.’”

  Chapter 16

  On Saturday afternoon, Matthias closed his shop a little early. He’d met several local fellows who’d come in to check out his harnesses, and he’d taken a few orders, so he was in a fine mood when he went to the house to freshen up. He wanted to look just right for going to supper at the Hartzler home.

  Matthias showered and carefully shaved above his beard, which he’d trimmed that morning. He chose his newest green shirt—he hadn’t worn it since Annie Mae had ironed it for him—and his better pair of gray broadfall trousers. It occurred to him that he would soon run out of clean, pressed clothes, but he couldn’t be concerned about that. Matthias focused on making a favorable impression on Saul, and on getting acquainted with Hartzler’s wife—just in case he got to see Rose again.

  As Matthias walked the half mile to the Hartzler place, he wondered again about what Saul had in mind, as far as the two of them working together. Would he want Matthias to make harnesses fancy enough for custom carriages, like he’d seen in the backroom of the shop? Or would Saul merely send some of his clients to Matthias’s shop, as a courtesy? As he strolled up the Hartzler’s packed-dirt lane, he prayed that the evening would be beneficial to everyone and that he would gain a new understanding of Morning Star’s Amish deacon.

  Saul was waiting for Matthias on the wide front porch of the tall, immaculate white house. He rose from the porch swing, his features alight. “Matthias, we’re all looking forward to becoming gut friends with you,” he declared in a booming voice. “Anne and my mamm have been cooking all our favorite dishes today, hoping you’ll like them, too.”

  Matthias preceded Saul into the house. “I’ve never met a meal I didn’t like—especially if somebody besides me cooked it,” he added with a chuckle. “What a lovely home you have.”

  The front room was large yet cozy, with hardwood floors that glimmered and overstuffed chairs and two sofas upholstered in deep maroon. Handsome wooden bookcases flanked the stone chimney, crammed with books. Near the big front window, a quilting frame was set up to take advantage of the room’s best light.

  “I believe our meal’s ready, so let’s head on into the kitchen.”

  Matthias entered one of the largest kitchens he’d ever seen—it spanned the entire width of the house. A broad table was set for four in the center of the room, which was painted buttery yellow and had two white-curtained windows in each of its three walls. When a slender woman at the stove turned to smile at him, Matthias saw Rose Raber’s face with fair, freckled skin and thinner eyebrows.

  “My wife, Anne,” Saul said, “and my mother, Martha Maude. Matthias says he’s looking forward to your cooking.”

  “Welcome to our home,” Anne said graciously. She and her mother-in-law began carrying large, steaming bowls of food to the table. “We didn’t make anything fancy—”

  “Just gut stick-to-your-ribs food, and lots of it!” Martha Maude joined in. She was taller than Anne and stockier—built a lot like her son. “We’re always glad to meet new folks. God made every one of us different, with our own skills and preferences—and quirks,” she added mischievously. “What would we be without our idiosyncrasies?”

  Matthias chuckled as Saul pointed him to the chair at the right of the table’s head. He sensed Martha Maude had read most of the books in the front room, as she had a more intellectual air than most Plain women he knew. “And half the fun of meeting new folks is figuring out what those idiosyncrasies are,” he said.

  When the two women sat down, everyone bowed for a moment of silent prayer. Delectable aromas of fried chicken, glazed carrots, and new peas creamed with potato chunks made Matthias’s stomach rumble. He was thanking God for this glorious meal and the new friends who’d invited him to share it, when another thought struck him like lightning.

  I don’t see a single sign of kids or grandkids. No toys, no noise, no high chairs, or pets.

  Saul cleared his throat, ending the prayer. They passed a basket of fresh, warm rolls, butter, and homemade jam. Along with the carrots and creamed peas, Anne had fixed a relish tray with pickled beets, green onions, radishes—and she’d made a bowl of wilted lettuce with bacon, as well.

  “I’m guessing all these fresh vegetables came from your garden,” Matthias said as he passed the relish tray to Saul. “My sister-in-law, Annie Mae, has expanded the garden at the home place in Willow Ridge, but I doubt I’ll get anything planted this year.”

  Martha Maude gazed directly at him, her face warming with a smile. “Could be you’ll become our personal mission project, Matthias. Anne and I always seem to plant a lot more food than we can possibly eat or need to can.”

  “We still have several jars of green beans, tomatoes, and other vegetables from last year, too,” Anne put in warmly. “We’ll load you up before you leave—”

  “And we’ll see that you get some fresh veggies as well,” Martha Maude added with a decisive nod. “We can pick them after supper while you and Saul visit.”

  Matthias could hardly speak for the gratitude that welled up inside him. “Denki so much,” he said, including Saul in his thankful gaze. “You’re making me feel very welcome.”

  The meal proceeded at a leisurely pace. The ladies gave Matthias recommendations about the best places in town for shopping, and Saul spoke about the many Plain shops out in the country. They also talked about the businesses in Willow Ridge. Saul had apparently spent quite a bit of time there on Thursday, when his carriage shop—and a lot of other Amish businesses—closed because the men worked
most of the day on Saturday.

  “The new café there puts out quite a spread,” Saul remarked as he sopped up his cream sauce with a piece of his roll. “I was glad we stopped there for supper.”

  “Jah, the Grill N Skillet does a lot of business,” Matthias said.

  Martha Maude laughed as she stacked their dirty dinner plates. “A pie in the hand is worth two in Willow Ridge, jah?” she quipped. “Our rhubarb plants outdid themselves last year, so we’re using up what’s in the freezer to make space for this year’s crop. Hope you don’t mind that the cake I made also has rhubarb in it.”

  “Cake and pie?” Matthias replied. “Hope I can roll myself away from the table!”

  After dessert and coffee brought the meal to a satisfying close, Saul invited Matthias to join him out on the front porch. Dusk was settling over the pasture, where a herd of Black Angus cattle grazed. The dogwood trees along the fence were in full bloom, their pale blossoms glowing with the final rays of the sunset. Matthias stood at the porch railing to take in the gentle roll of the green hills, the freshness of the spring evening air, and the massive red barn behind the house.

  “Are those your cattle?” he asked as he settled into the wicker chair beside the one Saul had taken. “They make quite a picture.”

  “I raise them for restaurants and butcher shops that specialize in grass-fed, organic beef,” Saul replied. “We Plain folks, who don’t cotton to fancy feed additives or growth hormones, are in a unique position. English pay top dollar when they know their beef, pork, and poultry are raised locally. But enough about my cattle,” he added in a purposeful voice. “I would like to put a display of your harnesses and tooled leatherwork in my carriage shop, Matthias. I believe my customers will recognize the high quality of your work.”