by Sarah Price
Lifting her eyes, she stared at Manuel. He, too, looked pensive as he watched her. His face was pale and his eyes concerned with her reaction. Suddenly, Faith felt shy in his presence, realizing that, by agreeing to marry Manuel, she had just turned over the authority of her life into his hands. She was no longer the master of her own destiny. Manuel was in charge. “What happens now?”
“Vell,” he started, pulling up a chair to sit opposite her. With his legs out, he leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees as he spoke to her. “I reckon I must go speak to the bishop. He will have to agree, like I said, to your baptism. Given the situation and your background, a proving time can be expedited, I reckon.”
“Proving time?”
Manuel frowned, more from his own inability to properly explain things to her than anything else. “Proving time. The time when you will need to learn Amish ways, Faith. That will be before your baptism.” He glanced at her and tried to smile but he, too, was nervous and could barely even do that. She could see that he was trying to take on his role, the take-charge role of man of the house. But it had been a long time since he had felt that confidence. “This is all new to me, too, ja? Perhaps to everyone in the church district. We have to rely on the bishop to guide us.”
“The bishop?” she asked, remembering the stern face of the man who had visited not more than an hour before. Faith found it hard to imagine such a harsh man being about to help her at all.
Manuel nodded. “He will know how to proceed. But first he must agree. Mayhaps he will say no. It’s always a possibility and what he decides is final.”
Final, she thought. She had never considered that. After all that they had just discussed and decided, someone else might refuse them? She’d never be able to sleep at night, not knowing whether or not she would be the stepmother to those children, children she already considered her own.
“Oh,” she whispered.
Reluctantly, he reached out and touched her hand, holding it awkwardly in his. The gesture seemed unnatural and forced. “It will be alright, Faith,” he said gently, his soothing tone comforting to her, despite the awkwardness of his touch. “I’m sure the bishop will see the good it will do all of us.”
All of us.
“I see,” she said, even though she wasn’t certain that was true. She was still reeling from the realization that she had just agreed to join the Amish church, to follow their ways of life as well as worship, and to marry Manuel. For a moment, she felt faint.
“Are you all right, Faith?”
Meekly, she nodded her head. “I’ll…I’ll be fine, Manuel. Maybe I will take that glass of water, if you don’t mind.”
After retrieving it, he watched as she sipped at the cool water from their well. “You can change your mind, Faith,” he said, his voice shaking just a touch. “Just please tell me before I go speak to the bishop. If I talk to the bishop and he says yes…” He paused and didn’t finish the sentence. Immediately, she knew that there would be backlash if she backed out after the bishop was convinced of the benefits to their union.
Determined, she looked up at Manuel and shook her head. “No,” she replied. “It’s not that. It’s just…” She didn’t know how to say what she was feeling. In just a few short minutes, she had volunteered to change everything about her life. And all of it felt right and good, the path that God wanted her to travel, with the exception of one thing: Manuel as her husband. “It’s a bit overwhelming, is all,” she managed to say.
He nodded his head, as if he understood, and spoke no more on the matter. Instead, he retreated outside, leaving her alone to her reflections as he surely needed time to sort his own.
Chapter Eight
“I just don’t understand,” her mother said, sitting down at the kitchen table. Her face was pale and her eyes wide in complete disbelief at what her only child had just announced. “Why are you doing this? Do you love him?”
Her father scoffed and stood up, pacing the floor. “Love?” he said sharply to his wife. “How could she love him? She doesn’t even know him!”
Faith stood before her parents, her hands folded behind her back. She didn’t know how to respond. They had reacted exactly as she had expected: shocked and confused.
Faith lifted her chin and summoned the strength to answer her mother. “No, I don’t.”
Her father shook his head. “See?”
“But I could,” Faith said slowly.
“Oh Faith,” her mother said, tears starting to form in her eyes. “And to become baptized as an Amish woman? Do you know what that means?”
She nodded her head, understanding only too well what it meant. “Yes, I do. I’ve met with the bishop.”
“This is ridiculous,” her father snapped. “I forbid you to do this!”
“John,” her mother interfered softly, trying to calm her husband down.
Faith looked at her father, meeting his angry gaze. She had known that her parents would not react favorably but she also knew what she had to do. God had led her to this and she was going to do His will. “Dad, it’s not ridiculous. You have to have faith in me…faith that I know what I’m doing.”
“What about your job? Your career?”
She smiled softly. “I think raising six children is just as worthy a vocation, don’t you?” Although it hadn’t been Faith’s intention, she realized the double meaning behind her own words. Had not her own mother wished for more children to do exactly what Faith was now doing? Staying home to raise a family full of life and love?
Recognizing the pained look on his wife’s face, her father exhaled and tried to comfort her by reaching out to touch her shoulder, a gesture of understanding and support. Lifting his eyes to stare at his daughter, he sighed. “You’ve made up your mind, haven’t you?” When she nodded her head slowly, her father placed his hand on his forehead as though he had a headache. Indeed, Faith wondered if her announcement pained him that much. “Truly, we cannot talk you out of this?”
She shook her head.
Her mother fought back her tears, her fingers pulling at the edges of the tissue in her hand. “I had hoped for something more for you, Faith,” she said slowly. “A marriage of love, not convenience.”
“Convenience for him!” her father snapped.
“Dad,” Faith started. “It was my idea, not his. I won’t have you thinking poorly of Manuel.” She paused before she added, “Remember that he saved my life once. Now it is my turn to save his.”
She spent the rest of the morning gathering the few things that she needed, things that she hadn’t already packed when she had moved into Manuel’s house to take care of the children while he was sick. But as she looked around her room, she realized that there wasn’t really much that she would need. The bishop had reluctantly agreed to work with Faith privately since she had missed the summer instructional at church. The baptism would take place in October with the other youths who were joining the church that year. But the bishop had been adamant about one thing: she had to immediately begin her life as an Amish woman and, with that, she would leave behind the world of the Englische. She had eight weeks before the baptism and a lot to learn during that time frame.
It was slightly before noon when the buggy pulled into the driveway. Faith’s parents stared out the window, looking in disbelief as they watched Manuel slide open the door and step out, pausing to tie the horse to a ring on the side of the barn. Faith felt her own heart begin to beat hard in her chest as she realized that she was actually doing this…leaving home and leaving her family.
It felt surreal when Manuel stopped at the kitchen door, pausing to knock on the metal edge of the screen door. She noticed that her parents didn’t move from where they stood. Frowning, she hurried to the door and opened it, forcing a smile at Manuel as she stepped back.
“You ready then?” he said, his own voice soft. His blue eyes stared at her and he looked nervous.
She glanced over her shoulder. “You should say something to my parents,�
�� she whispered.
“Ah,” he replied, taking a deep breath as he reached for his straw hat and removed it from his head. He cleared his throat as he stepped through the door. “Alright, then.”
Over the years, Faith’s parents had met Manuel Petersheim on more than one occasion, at farm auctions, at Rebecca’s wedding, at the local stores, and most recently at Rebecca’s funeral. Since the Amish tended to be private and withdrawn from the Englische world, there had not been too many interactions. Despite living next to the Amish, Faith’s parents had clung more to their Mennonite friends and family. And they certainly had never expected to find Manuel standing in their kitchen, hat in hand, greeting them as his future in-laws.
“Right gut to see you again,” he managed to say.
Faith’s father stared at Manuel, his face devoid of emotion.
“I’m sure Faith told you what her intentions are,” Manuel said, standing beside her and glancing at her. For a moment, there was a look of relief on his face when she met his eyes. “I’m honored that she’s willing to do this.”
“Wish I felt the same,” John replied sharply. “I think you are both foolish and rushing into this.”
“John,” his wife said, laying her hand on his arm.
“I’ll have my say,” her father snapped. “She’s not just getting married, Marie. She’s changing her entire lifestyle!”
Faith lowered her eyes, wishing that she could disappear. She wanted to get on with her life, the new life that she had chosen, a life that would honor Rebecca and a life that would be surrounded by the love of six children. Yet, she knew that she had to stand there and let her parents express themselves. It, too, was the honorable thing to do.
To her surprise, Manuel spoke up to her father. “She’s joining a family, a family that loves her, needs her and welcomes her.”
Faith looked up, surprised by his choice of words. A family that loves her? While she knew he meant the children, she wondered if he were including himself in that equation. And, to her further surprise, she realized that she secretly found the idea pleasant. Deep down, she realized that she hoped that he did, even if it wasn’t the type of romantic love that most marriages were built upon. But, perhaps, it could grow into the type of love that formed a good, strong partnership and friendship.
When they finally left her parents’ farm, Faith felt as if she might faint. Her head was light and fuzzy, her heart pounding inside of her chest. She had never lived anywhere else, never known anything but life with her parents. Despite being twenty-nine, she had always known that she would stay with her parents and, eventually, inherit the farm. She had never thought she’d leave and certainly not like this.
He helped her into the buggy before he climbed up beside her, the buggy jiggling under his weight. Taking the reins in his hands, he glanced at her and tried to smile. “Ready then, Faith?” he asked before he backed up the buggy and headed down the driveway.
Silence.
She listened to the silence, broken only by the rattling of the metal wheels and the horse’s hooves striking the macadam. It wasn’t the first time that she had ridden in a buggy. No, over the years, she had done it many times with Rebecca and her older brothers. The last time, however, had been at Rebecca’s funeral. Now, she was seated next to Rebecca’s husband, the very man she had promised to marry and spend the rest of her life with.
“You alright, Faith?”
His voice startled her from her thoughts. Good question, she thought. “Where are you taking me?”
“My sister’s house,” he said.
“Which one?” She knew that he came from a large family. She had met all of his siblings over the years.
“Lydia agreed to have you stay with her and her family until the…” He paused, unable to say the word. “Until November.”
“I don’t understand why I can’t stay with the children,” she asked.
“Not proper to be living in the house when we aren’t married,” he explained.
“So how am I to get to the farm to take care of the children?”
He lifted his hands up, showing her the leather reins as an explanation. “Or you could walk. It’s only two miles or so,” he said.
Faith sighed and leaned back against the seat, staring outside. They passed the farm where Rebecca had grown up and Faith could see the colorful clothing hanging from the line that stretched from the corner of the house to the barn. James was living there now, taking care of the farm. His parents had moved into the grossdaadihaus years ago, a transition that was all too common among the Amish. Parents were rarely put into nursing homes. Instead, they lived with their children in a smaller, separate section of the house.
“Why can’t I stay in the grossdaadihaus at your farm?” she asked.
He glanced at her and shook his head. “Faith, it’s best if you don’t question things so much,” he chided her gently. “It will be good for you to lean on Lydia. She’ll help you with many things, ja?”
“For eight weeks?” She barely knew Lydia. Living with an entire family for two months would be excruciatingly difficult. Not for the first time, Faith wondered why she was actually doing this. She began to feel that familiar pounding inside of her chest, the beginning of what she knew was a panic attack. But she had given her word…to Manuel, to the children, and to the bishop. She knew that she couldn’t back out of this.
“It will go quickly,” he said. “You’ll see.”
When they pulled up to Lydia’s farm, Faith felt another moment of panic. It was a farm she had seen many times before that day. With a large red barn and pristine house, it had always been a pretty farm that she noticed when she was driving home from work. For all those years, she had passed this house but never actually knew that Rebecca’s sister-in-law lived in it. Now, Faith was going to live there and, one day soon, Lydia would be her own sister-in-law.
“Wilkom,” Lydia said, a smile on her face as she opened the kitchen door with her bare foot, welcoming her future sister-in-law with genuine happiness. “Been expecting you.”
Faith didn’t respond as she walked into the house behind Manuel. It was dark and cool in the kitchen, despite it being a warm summer afternoon.
“Manuel, you can show Faith upstairs, ja? Last room in the back,” Lydia said, pointing toward the stairs. “It’s small, Faith, but it’s private. Had to shuffle my oldest dochder with her younger sisters,” she explained.
“Oh!” Faith looked at Lydia then at Manuel. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to inconvenience anyone.”
“Bah,” Lydia said, waving her hand. “No bother at all.”
Manuel picked up Faith’s small bag and began to walk up the stairs, pausing as he waited for Faith to follow. Once upstairs, he led her down a long, narrow hallway toward a door at the very end of it. “Reckon she means this one,” he said. He turned the doorknob and pushed the door open.
Peering inside, Faith was surprised at how similar it looked to the rooms at Manuel’s farm. The walls were painted a simple, pale blue. There was one window with a plain, green shade that covered the top half of the windowpanes. A twin size bed with a faded quilt was pushed against the wall. There was a small nightstand next to it, a kerosene lantern the only thing on it. She noticed that there was no closet, just pegs hanging on the walls and a tall, narrow dresser. That was it. Plain. Simple. Amish.
Manuel set her bag down on the bed and stepped out of the room. He paused for a moment, hesitating as if he wanted to say something to her. She waited, expectantly. But he changed his mind and, lowering his head, walked down the hallway. She heard him as he climbed down the stairs, his footsteps heavy as if he had a large burden on his shoulders. It dawned on her that, perhaps, he was regretting having agreed to this arrangement. Perhaps she was not the only one with doubts.
She had very little to unpack. Her hairbrush, her Bible, and her undergarments. She knew that Lydia would help her make some proper Amish dresses. Certainly that would be their first order of business. The
bishop had been rather adamant that, if she was serious about taking the kneeling vow and marrying Manuel, she had to begin living as if she already had.
Back downstairs, she was surprised to see that Manuel was no longer there. She glanced out of the window and saw that his buggy was gone, too. For a moment, she felt abandoned and alone, resenting that he hadn’t even said goodbye to her. But, as quick as the thought was there, she shoved it into the dark recesses of her mind. She had to transform her way of thinking. If she had learned one thing from Rebecca it was that demonstrations of affection or even emotion were few and far between when it came to the Amish way of life.
Lydia tilted her head and watched Faith’s reaction, giving her a moment of reflection. When Faith realized that Lydia was watching her, she flushed and looked away.
“He’ll be back,” she said, smiling as if she had a secret. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I should thank you for taking me in,” Faith said, changing the subject.
Lydia studied Faith, her eyes taking in the woman standing before her. “Ja vell, seems we have quite the challenge, don’t we now? Turn you into a right proper Amish woman in just eight weeks!” She laughed. “Manuel certainly knows how to keep life interesting, ain’t so?”
“How’s that?” Faith asked, worried that Lydia was laughing at her.
“He couldn’t just get remarried, ja? He had to pick an Englische woman at that!”
Faith clenched her jaw, wishing she could speak her mind. She wished that she could tell Lydia that he hadn’t picked her. She wasn’t a product on a shelf, waiting to be selected. Indeed, it was Rebecca who had selected her. It was the children who had selected her. It was God Himself that had guided her. And it was Faith who had made the offer. “It’s not like that,” she whispered, trying to hold her tongue.