by Sarah Price
“You should be in bed, Manuel. If you need something, all you have to do is ask,” she fussed.
“Nee, nee,” he said. “I’m tired of being up there all day.”
But the next day, she once again caught him on the step, watching her and Anna. There was a look on his face, a mixed expression of sadness and wonder at the same time. When she noticed him, she stopped what she was doing and met his eyes. He was looking directly at her but, at the same time, he was looking through her, as if far away and in another world. She couldn’t help wonder what made him so preoccupied and pensive. Yet, when she asked if she could get him something, he merely shook his head and retreated to his chair.
It was Thursday when she was sitting on the sofa, giving Ruthie her mid-morning bottle as she felt his eyes lingering upon her. She turned to look and he was leaning against the wall, a blanket over his shoulders and his hair tousled. “Manuel!” she gasped. “You startled me.”
He held her gaze for a moment, that distant look once again in his eyes. She wondered where he was.
“Are you alright, then? Can I get you something to eat?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Nee,” he mumbled. “Not hungry just yet.”
“Feeling better?”
He nodded. “Ja, I think I’ll be strong enough to help the kinner with the evening milking.”
At this, Faith frowned. “Don’t push yourself, Manuel. You’ve been through so much. The stress has surely caused you to feel so poorly. If you push yourself, you’ll be right back in the same situation.”
“Don’t want that,” he replied and, for the briefest of moments, she wondered what he meant. He was still staring at her, watching her hold the baby while Ruthie sucked at her bottle. “You love that baby, don’t you?”
“You mean Ruthie?” She hated how he kept referring to his little girl as that baby. “Your daughter? Why, yes I do!”
“Ruthie,” he whispered.
“She’s a precious angel,” Faith said, peering down at the sweet face of the infant in her arms. “I love her sweet smiles.”
“You’re good with her,” he offered softly. “I can’t thank you enough.” He paused, looking toward the window for a moment. “It should have been my mamm or Rebecca’s that helped out but…” He let the sentence fade without completing it. His mamm had died years ago and Rebecca’s mamm was ill. With the sisters busy with their own farms and kinner, Manuel had been left on his own. “You stepped in and saved my family,” he added by way of closure.
Faith wasn’t certain how to respond to that praise. She lowered her head and felt the color flood to her cheeks. She didn’t think of her actions as saving the family. She thought of it as the Christian thing to do. No, she corrected herself. She had fallen in love with the family, the children. She did this for Rebecca and for herself. “I think that’s mighty high praise, Manuel.”
“It’s deserved.” And with that, he turned and headed back up the stairs to return to his room.
On Friday, Faith felt a new energy about her. The week had passed surprisingly quickly and her routine had created a new peace in her life. Once the children had left for school, Faith gathered their dirty clothing and spent the morning washing and hanging out the clothes. It was a beautiful September day, just warm enough with a breeze so that it was pleasantly comfortable. She stood back and watched the clothes on the line, the girls’ dresses so colorful next to the boys’ simple black and brown pants.
The rest of the morning, she focused on inside chores, hoping to free up the afternoon to work outside with the children. It was too nice to be indoors all day. Her mind raced in the quiet, Ruthie having fallen asleep for her mid-day nap a bit early. Even Manuel had ventured downstairs and, after tending to some light chores in the yard that morning, he had returned to take a short nap in his favorite reading chair, by the window. At first, his presence in the kitchen room had made Faith feel on edge. But, when she saw that he was sleeping, she smiled to herself. He was getting better but still needed his rest. It had been a long few months and rest was the best medicine. He needed his sleep in order to get better. He needed to get better so that she could return to her own life.
It was the knock at the door that broke the silence in the kitchen. Glancing at Manuel, she hurried to the door, hoping that whoever was visiting wouldn’t wake him. She opened the door and greeted the Amish man standing there with a pleasant “Hello.” There was a confused look on the man’s face and he seemed startled to find a woman answering the door, especially an Englische woman.
“Where’s Manuel?” the man demanded, his brow furrowed in displeasure.
So that’s how it will be, she thought. “He’s inside but he’s been rather sick.”
“So I heard.”
Faith noticed an edge to the man’s voice, a touch of disapproval in his tone. She wondered why. “And you are?”
The man lifted his chin and stared down his nose at her. “The bishop.”
Ah, Faith thought, recognizing him now. “Well, do come in,” she said pleasantly and stepped back. “I’m sure he’ll want to speak with you.”
“Did I tell you about that Byler family?”
Faith had never seen Rebecca so agitated. Her face was pale and her hands were shaking. “Do I know them?”
Rebecca shook her head. “Nee,” she responded. “I don’t think so. They live in another church district. Ja, vell, I heard my parents talking and the bishop won’t let their dochder take the kneeling vow!”
Despite not being Amish, Faith understood the serious nature of such a decision. Baptism was an important transition in both the Amish and the Mennonite religions. To be denied that formal entry into the church could mean only one thing: something bad had happened. “Did you find out why?”
Rebecca shook her head. “I don’t know everything but she was really not being kind to another girl in their g’may. Made up lies, said bad things, gossiped, bullied Priscilla Smucker!”
“Those are bad things,” Faith admitted.
“Susie Byler was supposed to take her instructionals and the bishop forbade it, then removed her from the district!”
For lying? That didn’t sound right to Faith. There must have been more to the story than just that. “That seems very severe, don’t you think so, Rebecca?”
This time, her friend shrugged. “Those bishops carry a lot of weight within their communities. If he refused her baptism, he certainly had good reasons, I reckon.” She chewed on her lower lip, lifting her eyes up to stare at Faith. “I hope I never give the bishop any reason to deny me my kneeling vow or to get shunned. That would just be downright awful!”
She listened to the conversation from the top of the stairs, not understanding one word of what was being said with the exception of her name, Rebecca’s name, and the names of the children. However, from the harsh tone and the exchange of words, Faith knew that the bishop was talking to Manuel about Faith’s presence in the house. And, from the sound of his voice, it was not a happy conversation.
Leaning against the wall, she shut her eyes and sighed. If only Manuel would get better. If only Manuel would take charge of the children. If only…
Still, she knew that she would miss the children. She had grown to love them, to enjoy their stories and their appreciation for everything that she did. She loved to watch Anna blossom into a young woman. She loved to see shy Mary try to hold her own against the spirited Sadie. Of course, there was also Ruthie, the small bundle of joy that, on some level, Faith had begun to feel as if they belonged together. Hadn’t Faith been the first to hold the infant after her birth? Hadn’t Faith been the one to turn around the feelings of the children toward their youngest sibling?
And the boys? They were small replicas of Manuel, with those hauntingly blue eyes and brilliant smiles. They had that quick wit about them that reminded Faith of Manuel before Rebecca’s death. They were funny and charming and full of life. If only…
“Faith?”
His voice was
strained as he called out for her and, the moment that he said her name, he began to cough. She hurried down the stairs and went to the kitchen sink to fetch him a glass of cool water. She was surprised to see that the bishop had left already. How long had she been upstairs? How long had she been daydreaming?
“Better?” she asked, placing a hand on his shoulder as she leaned down to stare into his face. “You still look so flushed, Manuel.”
He stared back at her, his eyes dull from his sickness. “You have been taking right gut care of this family, Faith,” he started in a soft voice, his gaze steady and stronger than he really felt. “While I mayhaps wasn’t too receptive when you arrived, you set this family back on course, for sure and certain. For that, I can’t thank you enough.”
She didn’t respond but reached for the glass of water that he held in his hand. She set it down on the table next to where he sat and waited. Faith could tell that he was getting ready to tell her something and whatever that something was, she wasn’t going to like it.
“I reckon it’s time that you start taking care of yourself though,” he said, his eyes flickering away from hers.
“Is that what the bishop said?” She didn’t have to ask the question. She already knew the answer. “Did you ask him who is to tend the farm while you are watching Ruthie? Did you ask him who is to put food on the table at night for the children while they are at school? Who is supposed to do the laundry? And please don’t say Anna. The child needs to be in school!”
“Nee,” Manuel said softly. “Not Anna.” He hesitated before he spoke again. “He did tell me that it’s time for me to find another wife, though. A wife to do all of those things, not an Englische woman.” He looked at her. “Not an Englische woman who should be doing her own work and living her own life.”
A wife? Faith almost choked on the words. “But Rebecca…?”
Manuel shut his eyes and shook his head. She could see that the conversation pained him on many different levels. “That’s our way, Faith. You have to understand.”
“Is she that easily replaced?”
His eyes opened and he stared at her again. “Nee!” he said, almost shouting the word. “But the children…it’s about the children…”
“I’m here!” She said louder than she intended before quickly lowering her voice. “Manuel, I’m here for the children!”
Manuel sighed. “You aren’t Amish and you aren’t their mamm.” He put his hand up to his forehead as if the pain was too much to bear. “They need a new mamm, Faith. The bishop was right and, deep down, we both know it to be true.”
Furious, Faith stormed out of the room and outside the door to escape the oppressive nature of the house. How could Manuel let another man dictate how to live his own life? How could Manuel simply replace Rebecca? How could another woman replace their mamm? Her heart beat rapidly and she had to pause, standing on the grass to catch her breath.
You take care of my children. You help Manny.
The last words that Rebecca had spoken. The last request that her friend had made.
You’ll come by and visit? Mayhaps even help a bit, ja?
That request from Anna, so hopeful and so full of desperation.
And then it hit her.
For a moment, she stood there, staring into the sky and taking deep breaths. It was a crazy idea, an idea that would change everything. Yet, she knew at once that it was the right thing to do. It was what God wanted her to do. Why He had led her back to Rebecca’s life, her family’s life.
Please God, she prayed. Send me a sign if this is Your will.
“Faith?”
She turned around, staring at Manuel who was leaning against the open door. For a moment, she was struck by him. His blue eyes were watching her, curious and concerned with her reaction to his words. There was a look about him, one that she hadn’t noticed before that moment. She was struck by the aura of kindness surrounding him, an aura of acceptance and faith. He had always been that way. Only she was recognizing it now for the very first time.
“Please come back,” he said, his voice soft and gentle. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” He sighed and shook his head. “But the bishop is right. I need to find a new mamm for these kinner. You know it, too. Rebecca would want it. God wants it.” He paused before he admitted, “I reckon I want it, too.”
The sign.
Faith lifted her chin and crossed the small patch of grass, standing between them. She studied his face for a long while, wondering if she could really do this. Wondering if this was the right thing to say. And, as she pondered this, her heart beating, she heard herself speak the words that had been floating through her mind. “I’ll be their new mamm,” she declared, “if you ask me to, Manuel”. Immediately, she lowered her eyes. She didn’t want to see his reaction. She was afraid to look at him for fear that he would think she had lost her mind. In truth, she wasn’t certain where the strength had come from for her to say those words. “Rebecca would want it,” she whispered. “I think God wants it, too.”
Silence.
She glanced back at him, curious to see his response yet dreading it at the same time. As soon as she had said it, she knew that it sounded outrageous. Certainly, he would think she had lost her mind. After all, despite having grown up Mennonite and the daughter of a farmer, she was an educated woman and had a career. To become their new mother meant she would have to give up everything. Yet, she loved the children enough to do just that. She wanted to do this, and not just for the children and Manuel but for Rebecca.
“Manuel?” she asked, waiting for his reaction.
And then he nodded.
For a moment, she felt her heart skip a beat in her chest. Just like that, she realized, with one simple nod of his head. He had agreed and, just like that, they were engaged. Promised to be married. My future, she thought. How different it will be from what I had imagined it!
She heard Manuel clear his throat. “I’ll talk to the bishop,” he said slowly, his words careful and slow. “If he agrees, you’ll have to meet with him, then. Arrange for an instructional.”
“I know that,” she said, despite the opposite being true. The one thing that she knew was that she would have to take the Amish baptism and live by their rules. As a wife, she would have to answer to Manuel, release some of her control in obedience to his direction. “I suspected as much, anyway,” she admitted, correcting what she had previously said. The entire conversation sounding as if someone else was having it.
“If they agree to give you the baptism,” he said, lifting his chin and watching her carefully. “We would be married in November.”
Married. The word sounded foreign and strange when he said it. A surreal feeling overcame her. For a moment, she felt as if she were floating above herself, watching the scene as it unfolded, eavesdropping on the conversation of two strangers. Was she actually agreeing to marry this man, the widower of her best friend? You help Manny, Rebecca had said, pleading with her eyes for Faith to agree. Why had she agreed? She didn’t even know this man. Yet, she was committing to spend the rest of her life with him. She had just promised to give up all of the conveniences of her Englishe world in order to raise Rebecca’s children. All of this, she realized, to make good on the dying wish of her best friend.
“November,” Faith whispered.
He took a deep breath and forced a weak smile. “Now, come back inside, then,” he said gently. “I reckon this is something we should pray on, ja?”
Faith nodded, feeling weak in the knees. She managed to walk up the stairs to the porch and, with a brief hesitation, slipped past him to return to the kitchen. Behind her, she heard Manuel close the door and walk across the floor. He stood behind her and, when she glanced over her shoulder, feeling completely at a loss of what to say or do, he reached for her hand. When his fingers touched hers, she felt as though an electric shock ran up her arm, a wave of energy and fire, and she shivered. He gestured toward the sofa and led her to it, pausing before he dropped t
o his knees and placed his hands before a bowed head. Faith took a deep breath and followed his example, kneeling beside him as she silently prayed to God that she was doing the right thing.
O Father, she prayed. I love You and come to You with thankfulness but at the same time I am overwhelmed. I know that Your desire is to keep this family in the center of Your divine will and to show Your love in a mighty way. O Lord, I love these children like they were my own. Please give me Your blessing and guide me with Your righteous right hand. All good things come from You. My friendship with Rebecca was the start and I miss her so, but her grace has shown me more than I ever imagined about Your love for Your children. Guide me as the mother of these children, let me find love to pour onto this man, the man I have chosen to be my husband and bless me with Your divine beauty. I love You Father. Thank you. Amen.
It bothered her that she didn’t feel stronger when she stood up. She felt drained, both physically and emotionally. Standing beside Manuel, she felt as if she had no idea who he was. Yet, just moments before she had not only agreed to marry him…she was the one who had suggested it! The brazen words that had poured from her mouth shocked her, even now that it was done and agreed upon. Betrothed. Engaged.
What have I done?, she asked herself. Her knees felt weak and she had to put her hand out to steady herself. Manuel saw and reached for her, helping her sit on the sofa.
“Mayhaps I should get you some water, Faith?” he asked, concern showing in his eyes.
She shook her head. She knew that the color had drained from her face as the enormity of the agreement hit her. What would her parents say? What would Rebecca’s family think? And it wasn’t just agreeing to marry Manuel; it was the complete change in her lifestyle. Yes, she was fairly familiar with the Amish culture and their religion. After all, Mennonites and Amish were religious cousins. But to think that so much would have to change!
Everything would change. Despite the similarities in their religions, the cultural differences were astounding. At the heart of the family was the man and only after him came the woman. Faith had no idea what the next steps might be. Indeed, for the first time, in a long time, she realized that she had just taken the first step of a journey in which she had no control; nor did she have any idea as to how to proceed.