Naomi's Hope

by Jan Drexler

  “Ja, for sure. The Ordnung.”

  Davey had heard that word before. “What is the Ordnung?”

  “It’s a list of rules . . .” Cap stopped and wiped his face again. “Ne, not rules. More like a way to live. We do things certain ways because the church decided long ago that when we did things this way, we wouldn’t be distracted from seeking God.”

  “Why?”

  Cap didn’t answer for a long time. He went to a bucket by the house and got a dipper of water. He drank it, letting some of the water drip down his front, and then splashed some on the back of his neck. Finally, he came back and sat down on a big stump. Davey squeezed onto the stump next to him.

  “If I didn’t build this fence and let my horses go wherever they wanted, what would happen?”

  “They might get lost.” At Cap’s nod, Davey went on. “They might eat something that is bad for them. Or someone might steal them again.”

  “All those things are true. And people are a lot like horses. When we don’t have a fence holding us in, we’re likely to get lost. Make the wrong decisions. We might hurt ourselves or others.”

  “We don’t live inside a fence.” Davey looked to see if Cap was joking, but his face was serious.

  “The Ordnung is a kind of fence. It tells us where the boundaries are and helps us make the right decisions.” Cap patted Davey’s knee. “Just like the rules your mamm makes for you. She wants you to obey them for a reason. They are there to protect you.”

  “But what does God have to do with it? Following the rules is just . . .” He shrugged. “Just following the rules. What does God have to do with that?”

  Cap didn’t answer, but only looked into the woods. Davey pushed at the edge of the tree stump. He could get a piece of the bark loose and show Memmi.

  “Why doesn’t Memmi come to visit you anymore?”

  “We’re both busy.”

  “You were busy before, when we brought your dinner. Memmi said we help our friends when they’re busy.”

  Cap shrugged. “We disagreed about something, and until we sort it out, it’s best that we keep busy with our own work.”

  “It was about my pony, wasn’t it?”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “I saw you talking to her that day. Your face was red, and Memmi looked like she had been crying when she came back to the house.”

  Cap put his arm around Davey’s shoulders. His warm, firm grip felt good. Like he was strong, and wasn’t afraid of anything. “Adults have disagreements sometimes, but it isn’t anything you need to worry about.”

  “It is if it means you and Memmi aren’t friends anymore.”

  “I’ll do what I can to fix it.” Cap squeezed his shoulder again. “You had better be getting home. It’s almost dinnertime.”

  Davey stood up. “I’d rather stay here.”

  Cap smiled, but his eyes didn’t. “You need to get home. Disobeying your memmi won’t make her like me.”

  He could help Cap and Memmi be friends? “I’ll do anything to make her like you.”

  This time his eyes did smile. “You don’t need to worry about it. I’ll work on being friends with her again. You just concentrate on being a good son.”

  Davey returned his grin and took off for the trail through the woods. If Cap wanted to be friends with Memmi, then it would happen.

  After Davey left, Cap started digging the next post hole. With each shovelful, Davey’s question rang in his ears.

  “Just following the rules. What does God have to do with that?”

  Cap put one foot on the edge of the shovel and leaned his weight in.

  What did God have to do with following the rules? Cap scanned his memory, searching for the conversations he had had with the ministers before he had been baptized.

  He threw the circle of sod he had just dug up to the side and inserted the shovel again.

  Obedience. Humility. Love of your family and church community. That’s what the Ordnung was. Obedience. But does a man obey the Ordnung or God?

  Another shovelful of dirt.

  He could hear the Holmes County preacher’s words echoing in his mind. “Obedience to God is first and foremost.”

  Of course. But the Ordnung was filled with rules and guidelines made by men, not God. And yet, if a man disobeyed the Ordnung, he was in danger of being placed under the bann. He leaned on his shovel. It was still a puzzle.

  After a quick dinner of leftover stew, Cap took his ax and started walking to Christian Yoder’s farm. He had pledged to split firewood for their family this week, and it was already Wednesday afternoon.

  Christian Yoder sat on the porch, his legs covered with a blanket in spite of the heat of the late spring afternoon. He waved as Cap approached the house.

  “Hallo, Christian.” Cap climbed onto the porch and sat in a chair that had been placed near Christian’s seat.

  “Good afternoon.” The older man smiled as he shook Cap’s hand. “So glad you came.”

  “I stopped by to split some firewood.” Cap lifted his ax.

  “Denki, denki. Annalise, she will be pleased.”

  “You are looking much better than the last time I saw you.”

  “I feel better.” Christian smiled. Where only one corner of his mouth had lifted when he smiled a couple weeks ago, now his entire face lit up. “I think the tea is helping me. Annalise makes the tea Crow Flies told her about.”

  Cap stared at the older man. His speech was slower than normal, but for a man that most people had given up for dead a few weeks ago, he was recovering well.

  Christian grinned. “You are surprised?”

  “Ja, for sure. The last time I saw you, you couldn’t sit in a chair, and you could only speak a word or two at a time.”

  Christian looked at his hands, folded in his lap on top of the blanket. “That was a dark time. I was weak. Very weak. Now I have hope, and I am filled with gratitude.”

  “You look well enough to go to the Sabbath meeting at the Bontragers’ on Sunday.”

  “I hope so.” Christian rubbed his thumb over the back of his hand. “It is the spring council meeting. I would not want to miss it.”

  “Will the ministers make an exception for you to use a wagon for the trip?”

  “They already have. Abraham Troyer came by on Monday to see me. He said they had already discussed it.”

  Cap rested the head of his ax on the porch floor and leaned on the butt of the handle. “So there is a way around the Ordnung?”

  Christian’s right eyebrow raised. “Of course, when there is a need. The Ordnung isn’t the same as God’s Word.”

  “Some treat it as such.”

  “Ja, well, that can happen. We place so much store in our own rules and ideas that we forget what the Good Book really says.”

  “And what is that?”

  Christian glanced at him. “Our sin requires his redemption. It is as simple as that.”

  Cap rubbed at his nose. “And as hard as that.”

  Christian nodded. “Of course the Good Book tells us more.”

  “How we’re to live, for example?”

  “And how we’re to worship God.”

  “That’s why we have the Ordnung.” Cap rubbed at a rough spot on the end of the ax handle. “So, what does God have to do with whether we follow the Ordnung or not, if obedience to it isn’t the same as obedience to him?”

  “Submission. Humility. Doing unto others as we would have them do unto us.” Christian slurred his last words together as he laid back in his chair, and Cap stood to go. But the older man leaned forward and grasped his arm. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking that by following the Ordnung you have made everything right between you and God. He wants you. Your heart. That is more important than obedience to man-made rules.”

  Cap laid his hand on top of Christian’s, surprised at the strength in his fingers. As he relaxed in his chair again, Cap went on his way to the back of the house where a pile of cut firewood waited
to be split.

  As Cap balanced the first length of wood on the chopping block, he let Christian’s words fill his mind. God wanted his heart? He raised the ax, and adding his strength to the momentum of the heavy ax head, let it fall into the center of the log. The seasoned wood split in two with a crack. If only it was as easy to open his heart to a God he wasn’t sure he could trust.

  On Thursday morning, Naomi worked in the garden with Mamm. The early crops of peas and lettuce had come in and been harvested, so Naomi hoed the empty rows while Mamm planted the beans and corn. The late May sunshine had done its work to warm the soil, and with the rain that had come every few days, the seeds should sprout easily.

  Davey came wandering from the chicken coop and stooped to pick up some worms Naomi had unearthed. “Can I keep these for fishing?”

  Naomi smoothed the soil she had just loosened and pulled the corner of the hoe through the soft dirt in a V-shaped line for Mamm’s seeds. “When are you going fishing?”

  Davey shrugged. “Henry is too busy to go.”

  “Then leave these worms here in the garden. You can always dig more when you need them.”

  Davey opened one dirty hand and watched the worm wiggle on it. He turned his hand and the worm dropped to the soft dirt. “Can I go to Jacob’s and check on the sheep?”

  Mamm caught up to Naomi’s hoed earth. “You’ve been there every day this week.”

  “Except yesterday when I went to Cap’s.”

  Naomi bit her lip. When Henry had told her where Davey had gone, she had almost gone after him to bring him back. But even if she didn’t want to see Cap and risk another argument, she didn’t need to keep Davey from seeing him.

  Mamm smiled. “That’s good. How is he doing? We haven’t seen much of him lately.”

  Davey balanced on one foot, and then picked up a fat, white grub. “He’s building a fence for his horses.” He stared at the grub. “They don’t wiggle like the worms do.”

  “Ugh.” Naomi took his shoulders and turned him toward the grass by the barn where the chickens were hunting and pecking. “Take that thing and feed it to the chickens. I’d like to check on the sheep with you, since Jacob said the lambs should be coming this week. We’ll go when I finish the hoeing.”

  Once Davey was out of earshot, Mamm stepped closer to Naomi. “It makes me wonder.”

  “What?” Naomi glanced at Mamm, but the older woman’s face didn’t give any clue of what she was thinking.

  “Why did Davey go to Cap’s when all he’s thought of for the last week or so are those sheep?”

  “He and Cap are friends.” Naomi pushed down the bothersome twinge in her stomach. Whenever Cap’s name was mentioned, she felt that heavy, turning feeling, as if a giant butterfly was trying to unfold its wings under her apron. “They have become quite close since Cap moved here.”

  “They have, haven’t they? Davey treats Cap like a favorite uncle, or . . .” Mamm shot a look at Naomi.

  “Or what?”

  Mamm dug into her sack and pulled out more seeds to plant. “Never mind. I’m probably just imagining things.”

  Naomi continued hoeing, staying ahead of Mamm’s seeds by a few feet. She knew what Mamm had been about to say, that Davey and Cap acted more like father and son than friends. Ever since the two of them met, they had been close. But that didn’t mean Cap had any say in how she raised her boy.

  She reached the end of the row and rested on her hoe. She still regretted every word she had said to him that day. But angry words, once sown, can sprout quickly into ugly weeds. “I’m going to take Davey over to Jacob’s before dinner, if that’s all right. I’m anxious to see if the lambs have started coming, too.”

  Naomi put the hoe away in the barn and called for Davey.

  “I’m here, Memmi.”

  His voice trailed down to her from the hay mow and she climbed the ladder.

  “Look what I found!”

  Davey sat on the floor next to a litter of kittens. Naomi joined him.

  “So this is where Sheba has been.” She picked up one of the kittens. It was striped orange and white, and its eyes were still shut tight. It opened its mouth in a silent mew and reached out with tiny transparent claws as she set it back down with the other four in the nest Sheba had made for them.

  “Can I have this one, Memmi? Can I?” Davey was cradling a black kitten in his lap. The little thing was sound asleep.

  “I think you can. I know Grossdatti wants to keep one or two out of Sheba’s litter to help keep the mice down. It will have to sleep in the barn, though.” She took the sleeping kitten and put him with the others. “It needs to stay with its memmi for now. Let it eat and sleep for another week or so. When it’s bigger and stronger you can play with it.” She went back to the ladder. “Are you ready to go over to Jacob’s?”

  Davey sprang up to follow her. “Do you think the lambs have come yet? Is my own lamb born yet?”

  Naomi laughed as he hopped next to her out of the barn and toward the road. “I don’t know any more than you do.”

  “My lamb is going to be a boy. Jacob said we would need a ram for our flock, and that one would be mine.”

  Naomi squeezed the hand that he had slipped into hers. “We have a lot to learn about sheep. We’ll have to listen closely when Jacob teaches us how to take care of them.”

  “I already know a lot.” Davey let go of her hand and hopped up on one of the stumps in the road. “They eat grass and always need a quiet place to drink their water. And they lamb in May, and they get sheared in the summer.” He stopped and stared at her, his eyebrows drawn together. “What does that mean? Does it hurt them?”

  “It only means that they get a haircut. The shepherd cuts the wool off, and that’s what we use to make yarn and fabric.”

  Jacob and Mattie’s place was just over the rise past Christian and Annalise’s farm. Davey ran ahead of her when they drew close. Jacob was in the sheepfold next to their log barn, standing in a sea of woolly bodies.

  “Two were born last night,” Jacob was saying when she caught up with Davey at the fence.

  “Were they boys? Is one my own lamb?”

  Jacob shook some grain into a feeding trough for the sheep. “Both of them are ewe-lambs.” He looked past Davey and gave Naomi a grin. “Two lambs for your flock.”

  Naomi smiled over her nerves. Planning to raise her own sheep was one thing, but now that her plans were becoming a reality, she felt like she was stepping out on shifting sand.

  “I can use your help, along with Davey and Mattie. I need to sort the ewes who are ready to drop their lambs from the others.” Jacob lifted Davey up and over the fence as he spoke. “Go on in the house and get Mattie. She’ll be pleased to see you.”

  Naomi walked up the short slope to their house. Jacob had built it into the side of the hill with a cellar facing south, away from the road. The main house sat on top of a hill and had a Dutch door that opened onto the slope leading to the barn. The top half of Mattie’s door stood open to the fresh spring air, while the lower half was closed to keep the chickens from wandering into her kitchen.

  Naomi leaned over the door, but the comfortable kitchen was empty. “Mattie?”

  Mattie’s answer came from inside the house. “Come in. I’ll be right there.”

  Naomi let herself in and went to Mattie’s kitchen window. Jacob had built their house around this window, Mattie said. From this spot, perched on top of the hill in the center of their land, Pleasant Prairie stretched away to the southwest. Jacob had cleared some of the acres that had been wooded three years ago, opening up the view even farther. Every day Mattie looked out this window and drank her fill of the rolling prairies that she loved. Every day Mattie was reminded of how her husband’s love had put a frame around her dreams.

  The sound of bleating sheep came through the open door behind her and Naomi leaned her hands on the counter below the window. A warm feeling rose as she thought about the future she had planned. She would raise
her sheep, spin her wool, weave her cloth, and support herself and Davey. She would remain forever in her parents’ house, taking care of them as they aged and then died. And then she would live with Henry and his family. The warm feeling disappeared.

  The maiden aunt with the cast eye.

  Or perhaps she would live with Davey when he married. She sighed, thinking of grandchildren and a future daughter-in-law. So much could happen before then, but the future was starting now, with those two little ewe-lambs that were the first of her flock.

  But in all that future that lay spread out before her, there was no man who would love her enough to put a frame around her dreams.

  13

  Naomi tied on her long black apron. Today was a church Sunday. She both dreaded it and looked forward to it.

  When she sat in church with the rest of the community, surrounded by Mamm, Mattie, and the others, she could lose herself in the worship and the sermons. What was it that Paul said? There is no slave or free, no man or woman . . . they were all equal in the sight of God. Even Naomi, with her cast eye. During the Sabbath worship, she could forget about her appearance. No one paid attention to her and she could pretend she was Mary, sitting at the feet of Jesus.

  “I can’t find my Sunday shirt.” Henry clattered down the ladder from the loft.

  “It’s hanging on the hook right next to Davey’s,” Naomi said. She shook her head as her brother ran up the ladder again. She may be a Mary at church, but she was a Martha everywhere else. Between now and that moment of peace she craved was a mire of chores to get through, followed by the long walk to the Bontragers’ farm.

  Davey climbed down the ladder just as Mamm came out of the bedroom, both dressed in their Sabbath clothes.

  “Are we ready to go?” Mamm smoothed a crease in her apron.

  “I am.” Davey hopped on one foot until Naomi laid a hand on his shoulder to keep him still. “Can I wait outside?”

  “Ja, for sure.” Naomi cringed as he leaped off the back porch into the yard. “I don’t know how he’s going to make it all the way to the Bontragers’ without getting mussed.”