A Simple Singing

by Leslie Gould

  “Do they all live at the shelter?” I asked.

  She shook her head and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Shayla does. And so do two of the boys. But the others are on the street and just come to the shelter to eat and for events.”

  “How about the ones from Pennsylvania? Have any of them been at the Lancaster shelter?”

  She nodded. “Shayla has been, on and off.”

  “Wow,” I said.

  “How do they get all the way down here?”

  “Hitchhike. Generally speaking, some are trafficked—by relatives and acquaintances and strangers.”

  I swallowed hard. I’d heard of that. I looked at the group again and felt sick to my stomach, noting the similarities between their lives and Felicity’s in Annie’s story. They were dependent on the help of kind strangers, just as Felicity had been. I didn’t want to hear any more about trafficking, so I asked, “Is it normal to, you know, bring them on an outing like this?”

  “We’ve never done it before but decided to give it a try. It was really a blessing that all of you showed up. It’s nice for them to be around—” she hesitated—“other young people.”

  Elijah yawned.

  Billy glanced back at him, and Elijah nodded toward the volleyball courts. Billy grinned and slipped out of the group. Elijah grabbed the ball that we’d brought and gave me a questioning look. I didn’t want to go with him, but it felt disloyal not to.

  “Go ahead,” Miriam said. “Perhaps we’ll venture over that way soon.”

  They didn’t. I couldn’t tell what happened, but Josh shouted something and then took off toward the waves again. Gordon followed him, once again, and brought him back. But then Shayla yelled about something.

  I couldn’t tell what happened after that, as I did my best to keep playing, but Gordon put his guitar away, and Paula helped Miriam and Abigail pack everything up. Soon, everyone grabbed something and marched toward the parking lot while Paula headed toward us.

  When she reached the court, I asked, “What happened?”

  “Josh had a meltdown and Shayla started berating him. Then the girl from New York said she was going to hitchhike back downtown. So Howard said they’d all leave.”

  “What did I tell you?” Elijah spiked the ball over the net as he spoke. “Manufactured drama.”

  Paula ignored him.

  I wanted to point out that he hadn’t actually told us anything, but perhaps he’d said something to Paula earlier.

  Billy sent the ball back over the net, and Paula bumped it, hard, sending it way outside the court. Billy went running after it.

  “Gordon, Howard, Abigail, and Miriam all have tomorrow off before they leave the next day for Lancaster.” As she spoke, she stared straight at Elijah. “So I invited them all to the singing.”

  Elijah made a face.

  Then she turned toward me. “Gordon said your aunt already invited him.”

  I nodded.

  “Well, he plans on coming although he was a little worried about how you would react.”

  “No, it’s fine,” I answered.

  Elijah rolled his eyes at Paula and then asked, “Did you invite all the homeless kids too?”

  “No,” she said. “But I’m going to check into volunteering down there on Friday. And I hope I’ll see them—every one of them—again.” She gave Elijah a sassy look and then slipped under the net, ready to play on Billy’s side, against us.

  As we sent the ball back and forth across the net, I kept thinking about what Miriam had said as far as serving the homeless. That it had been hard. But, still, they planned to come back next year. And that God didn’t call us to do what was easy—but to do what was necessary. And that everyone deserved to be loved.

  My stomach clenched with the realization that the only difference between me and those kids was the family I’d been born into. I’d done nothing to deserve the life I led.

  16

  I spent most of the next day out on the patio finishing embroidering my tea towels while Aenti Suz read another book. I kept hoping she’d tell me more of Annie’s story, and she said she would, but by the time she got to a place in her book where she wanted to stop, it was time to start preparing our early supper so we’d be ready for the singing.

  David arrived at six, and we walked to the park. Elijah had said the day before that he might come with Billy, but he wasn’t sure. I hadn’t expected him to because I knew he wasn’t crazy about singing. It was obvious—and not just the day before at the beach.

  I decided that even if Gordon did come to the singing, I hoped Elijah would come too. I believed the more time Elijah and I spent together in Pinecraft, the sooner we’d be seriously courting when he returned to Lancaster.

  As we approached the park, the first thing that came into view was the number of bikes, trikes, and golf carts parked along the perimeter. Families eating their supper filled the picnic tables. And several men played bocce, which David described as a ball game brought to the U.S. by immigrants, on the grass.

  The music had already started inside the shelter. As we approached, I wasn’t surprised to find Paula, wearing a dress and Kapp but no apron, up on a little stage. I was surprised that she was holding a microphone though.

  As we stepped into the back of the shelter, I saw that Gordon was sitting on the right side of the stage, playing his guitar. Sitting beside him was Josh, from the day before, playing a tambourine. I wondered if the boy really played it or if Gordon had simply brought him along and wanted to give him something to do so he could keep track of him. I didn’t see Miriam, Abigail, or Howard. Or any of the rest of the youth.

  “Look!” Aenti Suz pointed toward the stage. “Gordon came! I’m so glad we’ll get to see him before he heads home.”

  I nodded.

  She motioned for David and me to follow her and then led us toward a row of empty chairs that was pretty close to the front.

  As we sat, she whispered, “Isn’t that your friend Paula?”

  I nodded.

  Paula gave us a smile as the musicians—there was a keyboardist besides Gordon and Josh—started playing, “When the Roll Is Called Up Yonder.” Paula started the singing without missing a beat.

  I joined in, joy rising in my soul. I’d never sung to keyboard music, but I liked it. Aenti Suz must have been smiling at Gordon, because he spotted us and smiled back.

  “Is Elijah coming?” Aenti Suz whispered.

  “Hopefully.” I patted the chair beside me. I’d saved him a place.

  The woman playing the keyboard sang along into a microphone. She was an alto too, like Paula, and possibly Mennonite. It was hard to tell, as she wore a scarf instead of a Kapp. Both blended in with Gordon’s baritone. We sang and sang, a mix of hymns and praise songs, some that I’d never heard, until Paula announced that the group would take a fifteen-minute break. “Because we want to get some pie,” she said, “before it’s all gone.”

  I looked behind me, and sure enough single pieces of pie were spread across a table on paper plates, served by a crew of women.

  Aenti Suz, David, and I stood and made our way to the back. That was when I noticed Elijah playing basketball over on the court.

  “Looks like he made it,” Aenti Suz said.

  “Jah.” I tried to hide the hurt in my voice that he hadn’t come to sit by me.

  Aenti Suz put her arm around me. “He probably peeked in and didn’t want to interrupt the singing.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  “Why don’t you take him a piece of pie?” It was cherry and looked delicious.

  “Good idea,” I answered. When we reached the table, I took two and headed toward the basketball court.

  Elijah didn’t acknowledge me until I called out his name and held up one of the plates.

  “Not now.” He grabbed the ball. “We’re playing to twenty-one, then best of three.” He dribbled down the court.

  I stepped away.

  Elijah made the basket and one of the p
layers called out, “Six to two!”

  I figured he might not be done any time soon.

  As I turned back toward the shelter, I noticed Gordon standing off by himself under one of the oak trees with a water bottle in his hand. He smiled, and I started toward him. “Want some pie?”

  He nodded as he took a drink of water and then put the bottle down, taking the plate. “Denki.”

  I took a bite of my pie and then said, “The music was beautiful.”

  He nodded. “It’s not what you’re used to, is it?”

  I smiled. “Jah, I was surprised by the keyboard, stage, and microphones.”

  “You should sing with us,” he said.

  I shook my head. “I’ve never done anything like that. Besides, I’m not good enough to be up on stage.” Whether or not I had perfect pitch.

  He met my eyes. “That’s not true.” His expression was so kind that my throat grew tight. So I took another bite and swallowed, but the pie caught and I began to cough.

  “How about a drink?” Gordon reached down for his water bottle.

  I quickly took it and sipped a little water. The pie went down. “Denki,” I said, handing it back to him. “Where’s Josh?”

  He pointed over by the swings. “Paula is introducing him around.”

  “That’s nice.” I took another bite and concentrated on chewing.

  “Yeah, she’s great. She has a real knack for connecting with other people.”

  I nodded. She’d certainly connected with me.

  As we both finished our pie, Paula and Josh headed our way. As they neared, Gordon called out to Paula, “Don’t you think Marie should sing with us?”

  “Definitely! We could use a soprano up there.”

  I shook my head. “Ach, you don’t want me on stage.”

  Paula grabbed my arm. “Just stand beside me and sing. You don’t have to say anything or even use a microphone.”

  “It’s good to try things that scare us,” Josh said.

  “Jah, this does scare me. But it seems so—” I stopped. I didn’t want to accuse Gordon and Paula of being . . .

  “Prideful?” Paula asked and chuckled. “It depends on if you’re thinking about yourself or about God and others. If you’re all nervous, you’ll be thinking about yourself. . . .”

  “Just give it a try,” Josh said. “I’m doing the tambourine—kind of. Honestly, I don’t even know a lot of the words, but I’m listening, and that makes me think of God, which Gordon told me is what worship is. ”

  “I don’t even know all the songs,” I said. “I’ve never heard some of the praise songs.”

  “We’re going to do all hymns now,” Paula said. “I promise you’ll know them.”

  The keyboardist started to play, and Paula grabbed my hand and yanked on it.

  “Here,” Gordon said, “I’ll take your plate.”

  I handed it to him and followed Paula down the center aisle of the shelter. A minute later, Josh and Gordon joined us and the other musicians.

  The first song was “When I Survey the Wondrous Cross.” I stood by Paula and sang, hoping the mic didn’t pick up my voice.

  Both Aenti Suz and David smiled at me, and I smiled back, hoping I didn’t look prideful. Then I remembered what Josh had said and concentrated on the words. “Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast, Save in the death of Christ my God! All the vain things that charm me most, I sacrifice them to His blood. . . .” I thought of the things that charmed me most. The thought of marrying Elijah. And living in our district, on a farm, close to my Mamm. The truth was, I wanted my life to be charmed.

  Honestly, I hadn’t done much in my life that was hard. I’d basically loved those who were easy to love and avoided those who weren’t. Even when Jessica left the church, I avoided thinking about her or praying for her or writing her more than the one letter where I scolded her for leaving. When she returned, still Englisch, I did everything I could to make her want to leave again.

  My stomach twisted at the thought of it.

  The musicians began playing “Blessed Assurance,” and Paula and I sang the first line of the chorus. “Jesus is mine; Oh, what a foretaste of glory divine! Heir of salvation, purchase of God, Born of His Spirit, washed in His blood.”

  We didn’t talk much about being assured of our salvation, even though we sometimes sang the song. But I did believe I was washed in Christ’s blood. Didn’t that mean that I should be able to love others, including the ones who weren’t easy to love? To serve others, including the ones who weren’t easy to serve? My eyes teared up at the thought, and I swallowed hard before Paula started the next verse.

  We continued on, song after song. With each one, my own self-awareness lessened as my focus on the Lord increased. Soon the words were welling out of me. I experienced affection toward the Lord that I’d never felt during any service, singing, or personal prayer. Emotion swelled inside of me as the music filled my soul.

  The words and music burrowed deep in my heart, and I longed to continue on forever. But of course I couldn’t. The singing had to come to an end, and it did, with “Wonderful Love.”

  By now I was singing as loud as I could, not caring whether the mic picked up my voice or not. The musicians stopped playing for the last stanza, and Paula stepped closer to me as we sang, “Come, let us sing of a wonderful love, Tender and true, tender and true, Out of the heart of the Father above, Streaming to me and to you . . .” Out of the heart of the Father above, Streaming to me and to you. Worshipping the Lord made me want to serve Him, to share His love with others. I thought of Josh and the growth in his life because of Gordon. Paula understood the value of helping others. Maybe I was beginning to also.

  “Come to my heart, O Thou wonderful love! Come and abide, come and abide, Lifting my life till it rises above, Envy and falsehood and pride: Seeking to be, seeking to be, Lowly and humble, a learner of Thee.” Tears filled my eyes as we came to the end of the song.

  Paula put her arm around me and whispered, “That was beautiful.”

  I swiped at an escaping tear and hugged her back. “I’d like to volunteer with you at the shelter, if that’s all right, even once before I leave.”

  “I’d love that,” she answered.

  Gordon was still sitting on his chair as Aenti Suz approached him and told him how much she appreciated his music. He introduced her to Josh, and Aenti Suz and David spent the next few minutes talking with him.

  I stepped to the keyboard, and Paula followed me. The woman who’d been playing it had left. Paula hit a note. “This is C,” she said.

  I sang, “C, a cat.”

  She laughed and then showed me the other notes.

  I placed my index finger on C. “May I?”

  She nodded and I hit the note. Then I continued on, repeating what she had just played. Then I picked around and soon had the entire song figured out.

  Paula shook her head. “You’re playing by ear.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You don’t have to read music to play it—you can re-create a song simply by having heard it.”

  I had no idea—this was the first time I’d ever touched a keyboard. I glanced over at Gordon, who still held his guitar. I knew from watching him that the way he pressed the strings determined the notes. I wondered how hard it would be to learn to play it.

  Two men stepped up on stage and said they needed to pack up the keyboard, so we stepped away from it and drifted over to Gordon.

  “You did great,” Gordon said to me. “You seemed completely at ease.”

  I smiled. “Josh’s advice helped.”

  Gordon smiled back. “So what’s been your favorite thing while you’ve been down here?”

  “Oh,” I answered, “I’ve loved it all. The people. The weather. The water. The beach yesterday—and getting a glimpse of the work you’ve done down here was good too.”

  He nodded. “But what’s been the best?”

  “Honestly?”

  He nodded.


  “A story Aenti Suz has been telling me about Annie Bachmann, a great-great-great-aunt who grew up on our farm.” I mentioned that she’d worked as a nurse after the Battle of Gettysburg. “She reminds me of Leisel,” I said. “But of you too. Ready to jump in and make a difference.”

  “That’s fascinating,” he said. “I’d love to hear it.”

  “I’ll tell you sometime, after Aenti Suz finishes it.” My words startled me as soon as I said them.

  “Great.” Gordon placed his guitar into his case. “Well, I guess I’ll see you back home. On the Bachmann farm.”

  “Wait,” Paula said. “I thought you were going to start working at the shelter in Lancaster.”

  Gordon’s face turned pink. “I’m thinking about it, that’s true.”

  I took me a moment to find my voice. “What?”

  Gordon shrugged. “Tony offered me a job. I haven’t decided—and haven’t talked with Arden about it yet either.”

  “I see,” I said, even though I was stunned. And then I felt surprised at my shock, at the loss I felt at the thought of him leaving. But of course Gordon wouldn’t work for us forever.

  “Well.” I tried my hardest not to sound off kilter. “Hopefully you won’t be gone before I’m home.”

  “I won’t be.” Again his eyes were kind and caring, but then they moved past me, to the back of the park shelter. I turned and saw Elijah, holding a basketball against his hip.

  Gordon looked at me. “Are you two courting?”

  I inhaled.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s none of my business.”

  I shrugged. “He hasn’t joined the church yet.” Then I pivoted toward Elijah and headed up the aisle. My heart raced. Why would Gordon ask me that?

  “How was your game?” I asked when I reached Elijah.

  “Great.” He nodded toward the stage. “I saw you up there.”

  “I was just helping Paula out,” I said.

  “But you like singing, right? I could tell by how into it you were.”

  My face grew warm.

  “It’s okay if you like it,” he teased. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. But you won’t ever be able to do that again, not in Lancaster.”

  “I know,” I said. “I don’t need to do it again.” But that wasn’t how I felt. I longed to sing that way again. And not because I was up in front of everyone, but because I’d worshipped God in a way I never had before.