Mary's Home

by Jerry S. Eicher

  “How far is the park from here?” Mary inquired when the first sign appeared for Nairobi National Park.

  “A few miles. We’ll be there before the sun is up. Thank you for handling Tambala so well at the mission.”

  “I was glad to help out.”

  Willard kept his focus on the road until he turned into the main gate and followed the arrows to the picnic area. He seemed to know his way around.

  “You’ve been here a few times.”

  He grinned. “I’ve come back since my discovery, but never with a breakfast basket or a beautiful woman.”

  “I should hope not,” Mary said in mock horror.

  Their laughter filled the pickup truck. Willard parked and turned off the headlights. The first colors of dawn had begun to rise above the skyscrapers outlined on the distant horizon. Mary climbed out and carried the basket with her to the first picnic table. Animals stirred on the plain below them. Giraffes mingled their long necks with the skyscraper silhouettes, and ostriches strode about, barely recognizable in the low light.

  “What do you think?” Willard asked as he slid onto the seat beside her.

  “It’s beautiful and peaceful.” Mary caught her breath. “I can see why you come often.”

  Willard winced. “True. I find rest here when the going gets rough at the mission.”

  She leaned toward him on the park bench and wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you for sharing this with me. The place is very precious.”

  He gazed across the grassy plain toward the brightening horizon. “What can I say, Mary? Words fail me. I don’t deserve you.”

  “Hush,” she told him. “Let’s eat.”

  He nodded, and they bowed their heads in a brief prayer of thanks. Mary laid out the bread, cheese, and fruit. As they ate, the sun rose higher over the distant skyscrapers. The giraffes were in motion, their tapered necks softening the steel outlines of the buildings. The ostriches fluffed their feathers and strutted, happy with the dawn of a new day. Striped zebras came into focus, and rhinoceroses raised their arched noses in the morning air.

  “I want to settle our future this morning, Mary,” Willard began, “in my heart and in yours.”

  Mary held her breath. The moment she wanted had arrived, and she had no words.

  Willard continued. “I have struggled with how I dare ask so much of you, Mary. And don’t protest. I know the cost you will have to pay and have paid already. Add to that my inclination not to trust a woman, which must tear at your heart. If you return to the community and I never see you again, I will let you go without grudges, and I’ll be thankful for the short time I have known you. I want to be clear about that.”

  “I know,” Mary whispered. “You have been nothing but kind to me. That’s one reason among many why I love you so deeply, Willard.”

  “Are ready for this, then?” His gaze was on the horizon and the sunlight bursting over the skyscrapers.

  “For what?” she whispered.

  He took a deep breath and reached for her hand. “Will you be my wife, Mary? Live with me here in Nairobi and wherever else the Lord may lead us?”

  “I will.” She squeezed his hand in hers and looked into his eyes. “I’ve known the answer for a long time, Willard. I am greatly honored to accept with my whole heart.”

  “You will?”

  “Yah, Willard. What can I say to convince you?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t need convincing, I guess. I just need to believe that something so wonderful could happen to me—that such a perfect gift, which can only come from heaven, would be given to me.” He looked away, his eyes moist. “I’m sorry, Mary. You deserve so much better.”

  She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. “I want to marry you here, Willard. On this spot…as soon as you can fly your grandmother across the Atlantic and before Betsy and Ronald fly back to the community. That’s the only request I have. I know that’s a big one, but it’s important to me.”

  He stared. “What about your family and the community?”

  She blinked back the tears. “We’ve already spoken about that, and Betsy is right. She can break the news to my parents when she gets back. They wouldn’t attend the wedding anyway, even if we were to have the ceremony at the church in Fort Plain. I’m not strong enough to face that pain right now. Maybe later when the years have passed. Forgive my weakness, but that’s what I want.”

  He held her tight. “I would give you anything I have in the world, Mary. Grandma feels the same way. I will email her this morning and make the arrangements.”

  “This is my home,” she whispered, and they clung to each other as the sun rose higher and flooded the prairie with glowing light.

  FORTY-ONE

  Willard awoke in the early morning hours to the silence of the mission house. Nairobi street life would be stirring outside the walls, engines backfiring among the ever present horn blasts. The sound would increase as the city stirred. Underneath the surface racket were the silent cries of the neglected, who populated the sidewalks and stone niches in the daytime and went wherever shelter could safely be found for the night. Lost souls lived from moment to moment with bitterness in their hearts against a world they found cruel and unforgiving. He’d come here to minister, and the Lord had sent a woman to walk by his side. Adam couldn’t have been more blessed when he was presented with Eve as a helpmeet. Never had Willard understood that story better or felt greater thanksgiving rise up in his heart. The vision of Mary’s beautiful face as she gazed at him that day in the park outside of Nairobi still rendered him speechless.

  Willard slipped out of bed to kneel on the floor. “Dear Father,” he prayed. “I am unworthy of this great gift. Mary is more than I deserve. She is leaving so much to love me and stand by my side. I can never repay her for what she is doing, and will do. How great is Your grace, and what a debtor I will always be. Mary is so like You with her giving and open heart. Thank You. A thousand times I say it, and still that will not be enough.”

  Willard buried his head in his hands for a moment before he stood and dressed. Outside the bedroom door a low light shone from the direction of the kitchen. He followed the beam down the hallway, to find his grandmother busy at work with Tambala by her side.

  “Greetings on this morning of your wedding,” Tambala sang out, her face creasing with a bright smile. “You have been blessed with a beautiful day by the Lord. The sun is rising on a cloudless sky, beautiful as your bride is beautiful.”

  “I have much for which I can give thanks.” Willard slid onto a chair. “I know this well.”

  “Mary is a bride of brides!” Tambala gushed. “She will be like the queen of Nairobi today decked in flowers and a dress which is the most beautiful, the most…” Tambala nearly dropped the bowl in her hands as one hand flew upward. “The best the city can supply. That’s all I can say,” she finished.

  “And Mary likes this dress?” Willard directed the question to his grandmother.

  Mrs. Gabert’s smile was gentle. “Tambala exaggerates a little in her enthusiasm. We found a very fitting dress for Mary, and Mary highly approved. We wouldn’t do anything that Mary didn’t like, Willard.”

  Willard sighed in relief. “Thanks again for coming over, Grandma. I don’t know how we would have prepared for this day without you.”

  Mrs. Gabert shook her finger at him. “I’m still insulted that Mary was the one who insisted I come. You should have known I wouldn’t miss your wedding for anything in the world.”

  “I know.” Willard grinned. “But our wedding day coming so soon was a surprise, to say the least. I would never have dared suggest a wedding date before Mary returned to the States.”

  “And so it should be!” Tambala declared. “The woman runs things best in the house, and on the day of the wedding.”

  “And most of the time,” Mrs. Gabert added with a laugh. “Just teasing, Willard. But I must remind you again that I was right from the first. Mary is the woman for you.”


  “As you keep saying.” Willard nodded soberly. “I just came off my knees thanking the Lord for His great grace, so I agree fully. You were right.”

  Mrs. Gabert gave her grandson a wise look. “Faith is always the best choice, Willard, even when our heart is wounded and bleeding. I know that’s difficult at times, but old age teaches the lesson well. As King David said in the Old Testament, ‘I have been young, and now am old; yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread.’ I can assent with my whole heart.”

  “Those are great words,” Tambala agreed. “But in this city they are not listened to by many people.”

  “May their number increase by leaps and bounds,” Willard muttered.

  Mrs. Gabert beamed a smile at him. “With Mary by your side, I think your prayers have been answered, son. Here she comes.” Mrs. Gabert tilted her head toward the darkened hallway.

  Willard leaped to his feet. Mary came out of the shadows and held her hands out for him.

  They embraced as Tambala cooed in the background. “It is so good to see such sweet love in this broken city.”

  Willard brushed loose strands of hair from Mary’s face to whisper, “You are so beautiful, sweetheart.”

  “I haven’t even washed the sleep from my eyes,” Mary protested. “Why didn’t someone awaken me? I want to help with breakfast.”

  “You are not helping with a thing,” Mrs. Gabert retorted. “Sit down and relax this morning. The Lord knows you will have your hands full after the wedding.”

  “My wedding,” Mary whispered. “The day of my wedding.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “I couldn’t have planned this better if I had a hundred years of advance warning. Your grandmother is here, Willard, and I am where I belong. I cannot thank the Lord enough for leading me to you.”

  They held each other for a moment. “Shall we step outside?” Willard suggested.

  Mary followed him without hesitation.

  “We’ll be back,” Willard hollered over his shoulder.

  With Mary’s hand in his, they went out the front door and onto the front lawn, which Ashon had manicured to perfection. Tambala had been correct. The sun was rising in a cloudless sky. The first beams rushed over the treetops and into the street beyond the mission grounds. Several young boys standing on the sidewalk turned their heads toward them.

  Mary’s grip tightened in Willard’s hand. “We have chosen a wunderbah day for our wedding.”

  “Any day when I marry you would have been wonderful,” Willard whispered back.

  “I’m just glad to be with you, Willard.”

  “The feeling is mutual, Mary.” He pulled her closer.

  “Do you think any of those boys have been to the mission?” she asked.

  “They know about us,” Willard replied. “And they know about you.”

  “They do not,” she objected. “How could they?”

  “They do!” he insisted. “The whole city knows. They know that Mary has arrived.”

  Mary leaned her head against his shoulder and laughed. “You say the kindest things, and to think that you will be my husband today.”

  “Sure you have no regrets?”

  She shook her head, her gaze on the sunlight streaming over the housetops. “I like this place, and there will always be the park outside the city. We can go there to refresh our faith in the Lord’s goodness.”

  “I know,” he agreed. “I feel the same way.”

  She glanced up at him. “Thank you for sharing so much with me. Your mission, your secret hideaway in the park—the place that so ministered to you and so deeply blessed my heart the first day you took me there. We will make our first memories as husband and wife in that place.”

  “We will,” he said. “Shall we go inside? Grandma will have breakfast ready, and your sister should be up by now.”

  “Just a moment,” Mary told him. “Can we pray for my parents? That the Lord will comfort their hearts? Mamm must feel what is to happen today.”

  “Grandma could have told them before she flew over,” he told her.

  “I know you offered, Willard, but it’s better if Betsy tells them when she gets back. We’ll visit in a few years, and the hurt will have healed to some extent. These things take time. If I had returned before the wedding, things would have been said that could have wounded us further. Daett might have been forced to banish us, and then we could never have gone home.”

  “You think your father would have done this?”

  “He might not have had a choice. This way…” Mary clung to him.

  Willard held her and prayed, “Dear Father in heaven, merciful and gracious Father. Comfort the hearts of Mary’s parents this morning. Allow Your grace to minister to their pain, and let healing come between us quickly. Make us not strangers from Mary’s community, but give Mary a place there that she can also call home.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled up at him, her face beautiful in the soft morning sunlight.

  He wanted to kiss her, badly.

  “We’ll save the kiss for later,” Mary whispered, as if she had read his thoughts. “Don’t the Englisha kiss the bride after the vows?”

  “They do,” he said.

  “I’m Englisha now. I can kiss my husband in front of everyone.”

  He chuckled. “You sound as if that might be a problem.”

  “Oh!” She buried her face in his chest. “You don’t know how much I love you, Willard. But I’ll always be Amish, I guess.”

  He brushed his fingers along her cheeks. “We don’t have to follow our customs today. In fact, we won’t. I want you to have this day exactly the way you want it.”

  “Then I want to kiss you.”

  “In public?”

  She groaned.

  “See?” he said. “It is decided.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “So kiss me now, Willard. Please.”

  “You don’t have to beg. I’m the one who—”

  Mary silenced him, pulling his head down. He lingered long, and the wonder of her closeness filled his being.

  She pulled away. “We should go inside. Breakfast is ready.”

  He concurred and followed her.

  “There they are!” Betsy sang out. “I was beginning to think the lovebirds had eloped.”

  “Good morning. How are you?” Ronald added.

  Mary hugged her sister while Willard took his seat at the table beside Ronald.

  “Good weather outside?” Ronald inquired.

  “Nice day, that’s for sure. But Mary’s still hurting over the break with her family. Any suggestions?”

  Ronald didn’t hesitate. “Mary is making the right decision with a clean break. You don’t know how messy these things can become. Betsy and I will do what we can to smooth things over.”

  “I don’t understand fully, I guess,” Willard admitted.

  “There’s not much to understand,” Ronald said. “The community has their way of life to maintain, and I like that life. No one has come up with a better way so far, so there we are. Sorry for the contradiction.”

  “I have no hard feelings,” Willard assured him. “Mary is the one who suffers.”

  “She’ll be okay. Mary feels sorrow when there is pain, but joy comes in the morning. Quite fitting, don’t you think?”

  “I hope she wasn’t crying all night?” Willard glanced toward Mary and Betsy.

  “She doesn’t look like it.” Ronald gave him a smile. “Betsy keeps me up-to-date. Mary did her crying before she left. The morning is here, my friend, and you are blessed.”

  “That I am,” Willard agreed.

  Tambala clapped her hands in front of them and declared, “Time to eat, and time for the wedding soon. We must hurry and not be late.”

  “Late!” Willard chuckled. “How can anyone be late in Nairobi?”

  Tambala glared at him. “You get saucy now that you have a wife. I no like this.”

  Everyone joined in the laughter, and the food was served after
a short prayer of thanks. Mary came over to sit beside Willard while they ate, but she dashed off the minute her plate was cleared.

  “The wedding dress!” Tambala beamed. “Mary has gone to put on her wedding dress. Even you will like this wedding dress, Willard.”

  “I like the woman I’m marrying more,” Willard corrected.

  Tambala left with a snort, and followed the other women as they scurried after Mary.

  “Quite the deal, this wedding dress,” Ronald said. “Have you seen it?”

  “Must be quite a marvel,” Willard seconded. “And no. I haven’t.”

  They sat in silence for a few moments, their faces turned toward the hallway.

  “So what is an Amish wedding like?” Willard asked.

  Ronald laughed. “Not like this one. More like a formal three-hour church service, with premarital counseling in the morning from the ministers. It includes two sermons, each an hour long, and the vows, of course. The ceremony is completed by a full meal afterward for the guests, and a young folks’ supper and hymn singing in the evening.”

  “You will have such a wedding?”

  “Plan to!” Ronald grinned from ear to ear. “Betsy accepted my proposal in Paris.”

  “Congratulations.” Willard extended his hand. “I should have guessed.”

  “No offense taken.”

  A commotion in the hallway drew Willard’s attention. Mary appeared in a long flowing white dress with an overlapping gown that hung from her shoulders. Embroidered rings of traditional Kenyan art ran the full length of the edges and followed the neckline. Mary made her way toward him with slow steps, while he stood, his mouth falling open.

  “Wow!” Ronald proclaimed. “That is some dress.”

  Willard stepped forward to meet Mary. “Words fail me,” he said, reaching for her hands.

  Mary’s face glowed. “That’s exactly how I like it.”

  “This from an Amish woman.”

  “I’m Englisha now.” Mary smiled.