Life of Joy

by Amy Clipston

  While Lindsay watched Mrs. Fisher straighten her prayer covering, she wondered how she felt about her daughter leaving the Amish community.

  “Do you miss your dochder?” Lindsay asked while crossing her legs and smoothing the skirt of her jumper.

  Mrs. Fisher frowned. “Very much.”

  “Do you hear from her?”

  The elderly lady shook her head. “I was not happy when she left our church district. I should’ve been more supportive of her when she married an English man, but my Mary never forgave me for telling her that she’d made a mistake by leaving the church. I never accepted her husband, and I wasn’t a gut mammi to her kinner.” She covered her mouth as a deep, rattling cough stole her breath and her words for a few moments.

  Lindsay stood and poured a cup of water from the pitcher on Mrs. Fisher’s lunch table.

  After drinking several sips, the elderly lady caught her breath and continued her story. “When I became grank after my husband died, Mary put me in this home instead of letting me live with her. I wish she would forgive me. She came to see me the day before she moved to California, but I was too proud to apologize. I wish I could take back my mistake and tell her how much I love and miss her.”

  Lindsay spotted a notepad on the dresser, and an idea burst into her mind. “Do you have Mary’s address in California?”

  “She sends me a Christmas card every year.” Mrs. Fisher pointed toward the dresser. “I’ve kept every one, and they are in the top drawer over there.”

  Lindsay found the pile of envelopes and cards in the drawer and opened the one on top, finding a card with photos of two little boys inside. “They’re schee buwe,” she said, holding up the photo of the boys wearing matching red sweaters and smiling in front of a backdrop of a Christmas tree. “You must miss them.”

  A single tear trickled down Mrs. Fisher’s wrinkly cheek, and Lindsay handed her a tissue from the box on the windowsill. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  Mrs. Fisher wiped her eyes and coughed. “I wish I could fix it.” Her voice rattled. “I carry so much regret.”

  Lindsay plucked the notepad and a pen from the dresser. “I’ll help you write a letter to Mary.”

  “Oh no,” Mrs. Fisher said. “I could never do it.”

  “Ya, you can.” Lindsay’s head bobbed up and down with conviction. “We’ll make this right.” She took the elderly lady’s hand in hers. “We’ll do this together. I’ll write the letter and mail it on the way home.”

  Mrs. Fisher coughed and then sniffed. “Danki.”

  Slowly, Mrs. Fisher dictated a letter to her in Dietsch, and Lindsay translated it into English and wrote it down. The elderly lady expressed her sorrow and regret for losing her daughter and asked to be forgiven and accepted back into Mary’s and her family’s life.

  After she finished dictating the letter, Mrs. Fisher leaned back and closed her eyes. “I must sleep now. I’m very tired.”

  Lindsay folded up the letter and stood. “You rest.” She leaned down and kissed Mrs. Fisher’s cheek. “I’ll tell Gina you’re not feeling well and I’ll come back and check on you later.”

  “Danki,” Mrs. Fisher said, taking hold of Lindsay’s hand. “Ich liebe dich.”

  Lindsay fought back tears as she repeated the sentiment. She then moved out to the hallway, holding the letter and an envelope with Mary’s address. She found Gina sitting behind the desk at the nurse’s station.

  “Mrs. Fisher is complaining of tightness in her chest,” Lindsay said. “Her cough also sounds pretty bad.”

  Gina pulled out a chart and began flipping through it. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll talk to Cheryl and tell her to order an x-ray.” She wrote in the chart and then looked up at Lindsay. “Did you have a nice visit?”

  Lindsay held up the letter. “She told me about how she’d lost touch with her daughter, and I had her dictate a letter to me. Once I find an envelope and a stamp, I’ll mail this.”

  Gina gave a sad smile. “Lindsay, that is so wonderful. You truly are a very special girl.” Gina rooted around in the desk and pulled out an envelope and stamp. “Here you go. Thank you for all you’ve done for Mrs. Fisher. I’ve never seen her smile as much as she has this week.”

  “I’m happy that I can help.” Lindsay put the letter in the envelope, sealed it, and then addressed it. “I’m going to check on Mrs. Warren. I’ll see you later.”

  “Thank you again,” Gina said.

  “You’re welcome.” Lindsay moved through a knot of wheelchairs and stepped toward Mrs. Warren’s door. When a hand touched her shoulder, she turned and found Andrea smiling at her.

  “Hi,” Andrea said. “How are you?”

  “I’m doing fine,” Lindsay said. “I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought you volunteered on Tuesdays.”

  “My work schedule changed. I wanted to call you and tell you that I was coming today. You have to give me your number.” Andrea pulled out her cell phone, and Lindsay recited her number, which Andrea programmed into her phone. Andrea pointed toward a break room located across the hall. “Want to go sit for a bit?”

  “Sure.” Lindsay followed Andrea into the room, where they each purchased a bottle of water from the vending machine before sitting at a small table.

  “What have you been doing today?” Andrea asked.

  Lindsay held up the envelope from the pocket of her jumper and explained how she’d translated a letter for Mrs. Fisher.

  Andrea listened to the story with her eyes wide with surprise. “Lindsay, that is so amazing that you were able to help her. You have a gift.”

  Lindsay blanched. “You think so?”

  “Are you kidding?” Andrea leaned forward. “You changed Mrs. Fisher’s life. You not only helped this woman communicate with the rest of the nurses, but you also helped her reconcile with her daughter after years of regret and sorrow. You’re like a hero!”

  Lindsay blushed. “Don’t pin a medal on me yet. We’re not sure how her daughter will react to the letter.”

  “If she wants to do the right thing, she’ll forgive her mother and come visit. Maybe she’ll even move her out to California so Mrs. Fisher can be a part of her children’s life.”

  Lindsay held up the bottle of water as if to toast the idea. “I’ll definitely say a prayer for that.”

  “Me too.” Andrea smiled. “You’re amazing.”

  “Thank you,” Lindsay said softly.

  Later that evening, Lindsay found an envelope addressed to her sitting on her bed. Her heart thumped in her chest when she spotted the return address from Matthew Glick. Her fingers shook with excitement as she opened the envelope and unfolded the letter.

  Dear Lindsay,

  I was froh to receive your letter. I apologize for taking so much time to respond. Although I’ve sat down several times to write this letter, each time I’ve struggled to form the right words. I suppose I’m not much of a letter writer and I never know what to say.

  That’s wunderbaar you’re enjoying your time in Virginia. I’m glad to hear that your aenti is doing better. I would imagine that the woman you’re helping at the nursing home is very thankful to have you there. It’s surprising that your knowledge of Dietsch has been helpful in Virginia.

  I’m staying busy at the furniture store. It seems we can never get caught up on our projects, but we’re happy that the Lord has blessed us with an abundance of work.

  Youth gatherings aren’t the same without you. Katie has most likely told you that Samuel and Lizzie Anne are spending a lot of time together. I knew that they would eventually start courting, but I didn’t think Samuel would act this soon since Lizzie Anne isn’t baptized yet.

  Katie shared with me that she’s been helping Rebecca and Daniel. Rebecca hasn’t been feeling well, but I haven’t heard what the doctor has said about her illness. I hope that she’s doing better.

  I’ve been working on a project at night in my barn. If you ever feel like calling and tal
king, you can find me out there in the evenings. I’ll include the number to my barn phone at the bottom of this page.

  I look forward to having more of your whoopie pies when you get home. My sister attempted to make them the other night, but they were nowhere near as good as yours.

  Please respond and let me know when you’ll be back in Bird-in-Hand.

  Most sincerely,

  Matthew

  P.S. I’ve included a little gift for you. I hope it brings you happy memories and smiles when you open it.

  Lindsay looked back in the envelope and found a smaller envelope stuffed inside. She ripped it open and pulled out a small necklace made of daisies. She laughed and put the chain over her head. Closing her eyes, she hoped that Matthew wouldn’t think about making a flowery necklace for another girl. With a grin on a face and her cheeks heating with excitement, she pulled out a notepad and began to reply to him.

  21

  Rebecca sat at the kitchen table Tuesday morning while her children and husband ate. She couldn’t even think of eating after the night she’d spent in the bathroom with an upset stomach. When a sudden overwhelming sick feeling rained down on her, she rose and rushed to the bathroom.

  “Was iss letz?” Daniel called after her.

  Entering the bathroom, Rebecca slammed the door behind her. She lowered herself to the floor in front of the commode and was sick. She then stood and washed her face with a cool washcloth. She wished she could escape this horrible sick feeling that continued to haunt her all day and night.

  She then lowered herself onto the commode. After she was finished, she looked down and found blood.

  “Oh no,” she whispered, her heart racing. “No, no, no!” She cracked the door open. “Daniel! You must get me to the doctor. Dummle!”

  Rebecca wiped her eyes while sitting next to Daniel in the van later that morning.

  “Dr. Fitzgerald said everything will be okay,” Daniel said softly, taking her hands in his. “You just have to stay on complete bed rest. You can’t lift a finger. Katie and I will take care of everything. I’ll talk to my mamm and she’ll help us too. We just may have to let the community know that you’re having complications so that everyone can pitch in and help us. You and the boppli will be fine.”

  Rebecca nodded, holding her breath in an attempt not to cry.

  He lifted her chin with the tip of his finger, angling her face so that she looked into his blue eyes. “Mei liewe, ich liebe dich,” he whispered. “We’ll be just fine. Hold on to your faith.”

  She nodded again, unable to speak due to the lump swelling in her throat.

  “Let’s go inside and tell Katie that you’re all right,” he said. “She was very worried when we rushed out the door.”

  Rebecca followed Daniel into the kitchen, where Katie sat at the table with the children, who were eating a snack.

  Katie jumped up and ran over to them. “How are you?”

  “She’s going to be just fine.” Daniel motioned toward the family room. “Let’s talk in here.”

  Rebecca sat on the sofa while Katie and Daniel stood by the door.

  “The doctor said that Rebecca needs to be on complete bed rest starting now,” he explained. “She shouldn’t get out of bed except to use the bathroom. I need to take her back to see him in a week.”

  Her face full of worry, Katie looked at Rebecca. “You go up and stay in bed, and I’ll find a little bell you can ring whenever you need something. I’ll take care of everything. I can stay at night and cook and clean up the kitchen too. Maybe I should just move in and sleep in Lindsay’s room so that I can help at night if the kinner wake up.”

  Daniel pulled on his beard, considering the suggestion. “That may be a wunderbaar idea. I’ll have to talk to your dat.”

  Katie gave Rebecca a pleading look. “Don’t you agree that I should stay? I’m really worried about you.”

  “Ya,” Rebecca whispered while fighting back her threatening tears. “Maybe you should.”

  Katie stepped over to her and took her arm. “Let me help you upstairs.”

  They climbed the stairs together, and Katie guided Rebecca into the master bedroom. She helped Rebecca change into her nightgown and then pulled back the covers for her.

  “Danki,” Rebecca said, snuggling under the sheet. “You’ve been a tremendous help.”

  Katie patted Rebecca’s arm. “You just take it easy. Don’t get up at all. I’ll be here as soon as you call for me.”

  Rebecca touched Katie’s ivory cheek. “You’re a gut maedel. Please do me one favor, ya?”

  “What’s that, aenti?”

  “Please don’t tell Lindsay that I’m not doing well. I don’t want her to worry.” Rebecca rolled onto her side. “I’m going to sleep now.”

  “Okay,” Katie whispered.

  Later that afternoon, Katie peeked into Emma’s room and found her snoring on her belly in her crib. She moved to Junior’s room and spotted him asleep on his side while sucking his thumb and hugging his favorite teddy bear. Tiptoeing down the hallway she looked in on Rebecca, who was also asleep.

  She made her way down the stairs to the kitchen, where she poured herself a glass of tea and sat at the table. Flipping through an Amish furniture catalog, she pondered Rebecca. While she knew her brother had been right about keeping secrets and obeying their elders, Katie couldn’t stop feeling like Rebecca’s request to keep her pregnancy complications from Lindsay was wrong.

  Katie knew Lindsay like she knew her sisters, and she believed with her whole heart that Lindsay would want to be here to help Rebecca. She also believed that Lindsay would be upset and very hurt if she found out that this information had been deliberately kept from her.

  Closing her eyes, Katie sent up a prayer asking God if she should disobey Rebecca and write a letter to Lindsay, telling her everything about Rebecca’s condition.

  She opened her eyes, and the thought of writing the letter continued to poke at her. She moved to the counter and found a notepad and pen in a drawer.

  Sitting down at the table, she took a deep breath.

  “I hope Rebecca will forgive me someday,” she whispered as she opened to a blank page. Then she began to write.

  Kleina Kaffee Kuchen (Little Coffee Cakes)

  ½cup shortening, half butter

  3 cups flour, sifted

  2 whole eggs

  2 egg yolks

  3 – ¼ Tbsp sugar

  ¾ cup cream

  ¼cup milk

  1 yeast cake

  Dissolve yeast cake in ¼ cup of warm milk; add 2 Tbsp of flour and let stand in warm place to rise. Cream butter and sugar; add salt and eggs, beaten in one at a time. Add the sponge containing the yeast, the lukewarm cream, and sifted flour. Grease muffin pans with flour sifted over them. Fill pans to 2/3 full with batter. Set in warm place until dough rises to top of pans. Bake at 400 degrees for 30 minutes.

  22

  Friday night, Lindsay stood at the sink washing dishes from the fried chicken she’d made for supper. She couldn’t stop her smile. She’d answered Matthew’s letter last Saturday and already received another response from him this morning. This time, he didn’t wait a few weeks to respond; he must’ve written her reply the day he’d received the letter. She planned to respond to him as soon as she’d finished her chores.

  Trisha walked over to the sink, her walking cast thumping on the floor with each step, and deposited dirty utensils into the soapy water.

  “You really shouldn’t be helping me,” Lindsay scolded. “You need to keep taking it easy.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Trisha said. “I’ve been taking it easy for too long. The doctor told me that I need to get up and walk with this cast, and I intend to do it. I’m just glad to get my rear out of the chair. In fact, you should take it easy. You’ve been my indentured servant for almost two months now. Go out with your friends tonight and have some fun.”

  Lindsay paused, considering the suggestion. She had the urge to write Ma
tthew, but perhaps she could respond to his letter when she got home.

  “What?” Trisha asked, leaning against the counter and studying Lindsay’s expression. “What’s on your mind?”

  Lindsay wiped her hands on a dish towel. “Vicki called me earlier and said that one of her friends is having a party out at Back Bay. And I was thinking that maybe—”

  “You should go,” Trisha said, gesturing toward the door. “Go freshen up. Frank can drop you off.”

  Lindsay hesitated. “I don’t really know these people.”

  “You know Vicki.” Trisha nudged her toward the door. “Get out of here and have some fun.”

  Lindsay changed into a fresh jumper and blouse and then styled her hair in a long braid that fell almost to the middle of her back. She reappeared in the den and found Frank sitting on the sofa.

  “Would you mind dropping me off at a party over off Back Bay Crescent?”

  “Sure,” he said, standing. “Let me just find my keys.”

  Lindsay stepped over to the kitchen, where Trisha was wiping off the table. “How’s your leg?”

  “Fine,” Trisha said. “I don’t even care that it’s throbbing. It’s good to be upright.” She smiled. “You look pretty. Have fun tonight.”

  “Thanks,” Lindsay said. “I won’t be too late.”

  “Don’t rush,” Trisha said. “Just enjoy yourself.”

  “I’m ready if you are,” Frank said, holding up his keys.

  Lindsay followed Frank to the truck, and they motored down Sandfiddler Road with the waves crashing out on the beach parallel to the road. Lindsay knew that she would miss the sound of the waves when she returned to Pennsylvania, but she also missed the sound of the hooves clip-clopping up the rock driveway, announcing the arrival of family or friends who were coming to visit. She missed baking with her aunts and cousins, and she missed the simplicity of her life there. She missed worshiping the Amish way with her family. She missed so much.