Hills of Wheat: The Amish of Lancaster
Page 25
“It’s not just about the lifestyle, Jake,” she reminded him. “It’s also about the faith and beliefs.”
He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “I know that. God, how I know that.” There was a smile on his face, a genuine smile that she hadn’t seen in months. “The past few weeks, you have been sharing the Word of God with me every night after supper. I have been listening, Sylvia. I have listened and I do believe. I don’t come to this decision lightly. You know that I was opposed to it. But, after I made up my mind, I asked your father for guidance and we spent several days talking about this. When I confirmed my decision, he went to the bishop on my behalf before making proper introductions. I had several meetings with him, too. Then, it was decided that this was an appropriate course of action.”
She couldn’t believe her ears. Only in her dreams could she have imagined that Jake would travel this path. He had been so adamant from the very beginning that he would never join the Amish church. She knew that such a leap of faith and commitment of life was unusual for Englischers. Her sister-in-law was one of the few who had successfully done it. Now, standing before her, her very own husband felt moved by the Spirit. He was willing to take the kneeling vow and make the commitment with God, Church, and community. And, from the look on his face, she knew that he was truly at peace with this decision. Perhaps, she wondered, fighting the baptism was what had been holding him back all along.
“This won’t be easy for you,” she said, her voice soft and gentle.
“It already isn’t,” he said, looking over his shoulder at the window. She followed his gaze and saw a horse and buggy still standing in the driveway. “I had to sell my truck.”
Despite the seriousness of the moment, Sylvia caught herself laughing. “Oh Jake. How will you survive?”
He signed and shook his head. “With the help of the good Lord…and my dear wife, I reckon.” But there was a sparkle in his eye, a wonderful glowing sparkled that showed her that, indeed, her husband had returned to her at last.
Epilogue
Despite the hard winter that had covered Lancaster County with late season snow, it was an early spring. By April, the ground had thawed and started to dry out. Sylvia looked out the window, smiling as she saw the beams of afternoon sun streaming through the trees, the hint of leaf buds sprouting on the tips of their branches. The cows were in the pasture and Jake was working with one of the horses. Just last week, he had sold two of the horses to local Amish boys who were just starting their courting years. They wanted a fancy new horse to go along with their courting buggy.
Courting years, she thought. Was it only last year that she had met this man? So much had happened in such a small amount of time. She rested her hand on her swollen stomach, feeling the baby move beneath her touch. It would be at least another few weeks before they were blessed with their first child.
Sylvia shook her head in amazement, wondering what would have happened had she not been standing on the hill of wheat on that fateful day when she had been worshipping the good Lord’s gift of spring? Now, she was thanking Him for so much more. He had given her the gift of love and understanding, of patience and courage.
Now that Jake was in the full swing of giving his life over to God and the way of the People, she had seen a remarkable change in him. The old Jake was back. He sparkled and glowed when he spoke to her. His touch was loving and caring, never distant or removed. He still teased her, loving to see the color flood to her cheeks but she wouldn’t have changed that for anything in the world. There was something magical about this wonderful gut man, she knew. Even at the Sunday church services, he carried himself with such a presence that others noticed and seemed drawn to him, like a moth to a flame.
Yes, she thought. Life has a way of changing things, presenting us with challenges and obstacles. But she knew that God never gave them more than they could handle.
She stood at the window, smiling to herself as she gave thanks for the blessings He had bestowed upon her. And when Jake rounded the corner of the barn, the straw hat upon his head and the hint of a beard growing on his face, she felt a joy warm her insides. If she had ever doubted the way of the Lord, she knew that there was one lesson more that she needed. To doubt in the Lord was to question His power and her own faith. Nevermore, she said to herself, watching her husband saunter toward the house, a happy swagger in his step and a smile on his face when he saw her watching him. And she walked toward the door, eager to greet him as he walked through it.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sarah Price’s ancestors emigrated from Europe in 1705, settling in Pennsylvania as the area’s first wave of Mennonite families. Sara Price has always respected and honored her ancestors through exploration and research about her family’s history and their religion. At nineteen, she befriended an Amish family and lived on their farm throughout the years. Twenty-five years later, Sarah Price splits her time between her home outside of New York City and an Amish farm in Lancaster County, PA where she retreats to reflect, write, and reconnect with her Amish friends and Mennonite family.
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