Planted with Hope

by Tricia Goyer

  “We’re going to finish the last of our planting.” Hope laid out the stakes. “Nellie, it’s your job to use this marker to write the type of seeds that are planted on these sticks and make sure they are put next to the right row.”

  “Back in Tennessee my mem used to put the seed packets on the end of the sticks and put them in the ground like that,” one young boy named David said.

  “Ja, I’ve seen some gardeners do that, and it’s gut too. I usually like to use a marker on my stakes because sometimes the seed packets get blown off. Or… ” She waved to the corner of the building where a mother stood with her two-year-old son watching. “Or… sometimes the little ones like to come and pull off all the seed packets, and then you’re stuck with trying to remember what you planted where.”

  Emma raised her hand, waving it in the air. “Can I keep the packets?”

  “You want to keep them?”

  Emma nodded enthusiastically. “Ja, I want them for my garden at home.”

  “Oh, you have a garden at home now, do you? You’ll have to tell me about that later, but right now why don’t each of you go find a hand rake or a trowel and we’ll get started.”

  The other children rushed toward the buckets, their excited voices filling the air.

  “Will you come see my garden, Hope? I planted carrots,” Emma said.

  “Sure.” She nodded and smiled, not knowing if Emma was talking about a real garden or a pretend one. “You’ll have to tell me about it later, but right now why don’t you go get a garden tool? We need to get started. My guess is that this isn’t the only thing your dat has planned for your school day.”

  Emma nodded and ran to join the others at the buckets.

  Jonas came up to her again and leaned in. His presence was overwhelming, and Hope nearly wanted to step away. How could one man cause every nerve in her body to stand on end like that?

  “Emma’s garden is a few small planters that I found at the Village Cupboard, and we picked up some carrot seeds at the store.” He chuckled. “With all the water, love, and attention she gives them I’m not sure if they’ll even sprout, but she’s having fun. And she tells me, ‘I’m just like Hope, Dat.’ ”

  “That’s so sweet. I’d love to see her garden sometime.”

  “Ja, I’ll ask Ruth Ann if there’s a day when you can come to dinner… again.”

  “Oh no, I didn’t want to impose.”

  Jonas turned to her and smiled with a smile that lit up her heart. “Hope, you won’t be imposing. I promise. I can’t think of a better person for Emma to model herself after.”

  “Danke, Jonas. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say you’ll come for dinner?”

  “Shouldn’t you ask Ruth Ann first?”

  “If she hasn’t already started dinner I’ll offer to pick up dinner from Yoder’s.”

  “Wise man.”

  “Ja.” He nodded, peering down at her. “Choosing to have you around as much as possible is very wise indeed.”

  Ruth Ann had made enough food to feed a dozen guests. Hope’s favorite part of the meal was Ruth Ann’s salad with homemade honey-orange dressing.

  Jonas chuckled when she went back for thirds on the salad. “I should have guessed that someone who loves gardening would love salad.”

  “Don’t worry, Hope,” Ruth Ann said, scooping more salad onto the plate. “I’ll be sure to send you home with the recipe for the dressing.”

  Once the dishes were done Hope went to join Jonas and Emma outside. She closed the screen door silently behind her. Jonas stood straight, peering down and watching Emma dig in her pot with a small trowel. In her mind’s eye Hope pictured herself approaching him from behind, slipping her arms around his waist, and laying her cheek between his shoulder blades. She imaged his shirt to be warm from the afternoon sun. She imagined feeling his heartbeat as she pressed close to him, but as soon as those thoughts came in she pushed them away. She should not be having these types of feelings for him—not until she had a clear answer.

  She thought back to something her mem had told her: Love that grows slowly over time, putting down its roots, is a love that will last. Everyone who she knew who’d had a rush of emotions also found them rushing away just as quickly. Jonas was handsome and that was appealing. He also was a good father and a good teacher, but surely to have real emotions—lasting emotions—would take longer than the few months they’d spent together.

  After Emma finished her gardening they played a game of checkers on the table. First Emma played Jonas and then she played Hope. Emma giggled when she won both times.

  When the second game finished Ruth Ann came out. “Emma, did you want some homemade ice cream?”

  Hope noticed that neither she nor Jonas were invited in. And when Ruth Ann shot Jonas a curious look she guessed why.

  He has something to talk to me about.

  They sat on two lawn chairs side by side, listening to parrots chatter in a nearby tree. They talked about school and the decrease of visitors, and then Jonas quieted. Hope sucked in a breath, waiting for his words.

  “Hope, I want to talk to you about Sarah’s death.”

  It wasn’t what she expected, and the sadness that crossed his face nearly broke Hope’s heart. “You don’t have to. I know it must be hard.”

  “I loved her. She loved me.” He drew in a great sigh and expelled his breath. The shudder moved through his whole body.

  “Every marriage should be like that, Jonas.” She reached out to take his hand, and then she changed her mind, pulling it back onto her lap.

  With words full of sadness he told her about Sarah’s stroke, about finding her, and about the hard years to follow that included caring for Sarah, caring for Emma, and trying to keep the farm going.

  “But at the end I was so tired. It was so hard to see her suffer. And a few days before her death I prayed that God would take her.”

  “That’s a sign of love, too, don’t you think?”

  Tears filled his eyes and he nodded. “I just wanted you to know about that. To know about how hard it was. I want you to know that if there are days when I don’t seem myself, or days when I’m especially quiet, well, I’m probably thinking about those times. About… ”

  His voice trailed off, but Hope guessed what he wanted to say. “About her.”

  He nodded.

  “And I’m sure the same can be said about Emma,” she said.

  “I suppose so.”

  Jonas reached out and took her hand then, squeezing it as if he was afraid to let go. “It’s strange, you know, carrying all of this inside. Most of the time it’s like this hat I wear.” Jonas placed his free hand on his straw hat. “I’m so used to wearing one that I forget it’s there. But then there are times I’m aware of the shade it casts.”

  “You have a way with words, Jonas Sutter, and I’d be worried if you didn’t have those thoughts and feelings.”

  “But I just want you to know that what I had with Sarah, Hope, takes nothing from what I feel about you. I never thought it would be possible to have such hope for the future.”

  She smiled then, but she also worried. Were things moving too fast? Did she truly know him? Did he know her? Hope had never had her heart broken, and more than anything she hoped she never would. But that didn’t matter to her as much as worries of hurting both Jonas and Emma. He’d already gone through so much loss, and what if this didn’t work out? She didn’t want to hurt him, and she didn’t want to hurt that little girl.

  He pulled her hand toward him and kissed the back of it. Hot heat rushed from her hand, down her arm, and to her chest—straight to her heart.

  Take things slow, Hope. Don’t let his heart become entwined too quick.

  But even as she thought that Hope wondered if it was too late. She also wondered what all this meant. But for the moment she was content simply sitting in this backyard with Jonas and feeling the tenderness of his touch.

  September 17, 1942

  We plan
ned the wedding in three days. I’ve known that I loved Henry for months now, and I knew he loved me. I’m not sure why we waited to marry… fear, I suppose. Fear that we were making a mistake. Fear that things were moving too soon.

  Uncle Sam was finally the one who stepped in to say, “Enough is enough,” and Henry received news he was heading to Europe. I knew before he left that we had to marry. He felt the same.

  September 30, 1942

  The transport plane that was carrying Henry to his new base crashed. There are survivors. I haven’t heard if Henry is one of them.

  October 7, 1942

  Henry is coming home, but not like I expected.

  October 15, 1942

  He lost his arm, but my husband will be in my arms soon. I sent him a letter telling him that he can still pull weeds with one arm. I imagined his smile. I hope that letter arrives before he leaves. I want him to know that I love him now just as much as I did before the accident. There is little that can change a love like we have…

  Honey Orange Salad Dressing

  1¾ cup plain yogurt

  ¼ cup honey

  2 Tbsp frozen orange juice concentrate

  2 Tbsp freshly squeezed lemon juice

  ¾ tsp. grated orange zest

  ¼ tsp. freshly grated ginger root

  Combine all ingredients and serve over fresh green lettuce leaves or fruit chunks.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  May our lives be like arithmetic: friends added, enemies subtracted, sorrows divided, joys multiplied.

  AMISH PROVERB

  When Joy half-jogged, half-ran around the corner of the pie shop, Hope knew that something was wrong. She first thought of Dat, but another name slipped from Joy’s lips.

  “It’s Janet. She had her hip surgery but she took a turn for the worse. They have her in a rehab center.”

  A weight sank in the pit of Hope’s stomach. Her breath caught and she extended a hand to Joy. “Is—will she be all right?”

  Joy shrugged. “Elizabeth doesn’t know. She just asked me to come and tell you. She knew you’d want to know. She knew you’d pray.”

  “Ja, of course.”

  Hope thought of the Victory Journal that she’d left sitting on her bedside table. Even though she was only borrowing it, it meant so much that Janet trusted her with it.

  “Do you think we’d be able to go see Janet—once she’s stable, of course?”

  Joy brushed a strand of dark hair from her face and shrugged. “I’m not certain, but I’d be happy to ask.” Joy looked at the trowel in Hope’s hand. “Actually I’m heading there right now if you’d like to join me.”

  “Ja.” Hope brushed a dirty hand on her apron. “I’d be happy to. Just give me a minute to wash up.”

  Twenty minutes later both of them were sitting near Elizabeth as she hand-stitched a small quilted wall hanging. “I know we won’t be able to see Janet until she is stable. She’s at a nice place, though. I’ve visited there before. My husband and I went to visit one of his friends.”

  Hope’s head jerked backward. “Your husband? I am so confused. Didn’t you tell me about moving to Pinecraft and feeling so alone?”

  “Ja, we did talk about that a while ago, didn’t we? For a while I even considered leaving the Amish, but I am glad I stayed. I met and married a wonderful man. Amos Bieler. His name was the same as my married name, but we couldn’t find any close relations. We only had four years together before his death, but they were a wonderful four years.”

  “I’ve always wanted to ask you about Amos.” Joy smiled. “I’ve seen the photograph of him on your desk.”

  Elizabeth chuckled and pushed her glasses farther up her nose. “The newspaper took that photo when we were meeting the bus. Amos was upset that they published it, but I bought five copies and cut out the photos.” She sighed. “I’m secretly thankful.”

  “And if you hadn’t stayed Amish… ” Hope’s voice trailed off.

  “If I hadn’t stayed Amish then I would have never married Amos. I thought I was a godly woman until I married a man with two children. I was older, and Abel and Katie were both nearly grown by the time I married their father, but oh the trials. I couldn’t just think of myself all the time,” Elizabeth said. “And there was so much I needed to learn… ”

  Hope started to organize the thread spools next to her by color. “What do you mean?”

  “Before I got married, sewing was my life. I promise you that after I moved in with Amos my sewing machine sat in the living room with an unfinished project folded up on top of it for three months. I couldn’t just be concerned about myself, but those who needed to eat and needed clean clothes. There was that large garden—bigger than anything I’d ever tackled before, and though I loved Amos I’d cry as I watched him leave for work, knowing he’d expect a good hot meal at lunch.

  “Looking back now I know I’d placed high expectations on myself. No man expects a perfect wife. I also know that putting myself in the middle of that family, and the new community, was the best thing for me. It was a growing time. It made me realize that I didn’t have my act together as much as I thought I did. Before my marriage, God was a nice companion. I knew that He was there. I thanked Him throughout the day. I also prayed for others. Oh, I had troubles in my life to be certain, but for the most part nothing that I couldn’t handle. But with a husband and children I needed God. I clung to Him. I turned to Him for wisdom. I cried to Jesus for strength. And, Hope, I’m guessing that you have some worries about your growing relationship too. But dear one, don’t be afraid to open your heart.”

  Hope chuckled. “It sounds as if marriage is hard. Are you really trying to talk me into opening my heart, Elizabeth? Because right now everything within my mind shouts ‘run, run.’ ”

  “Oh sweet child, weren’t you listening? All my self-concern didn’t disappear, but a new name became most important, and that was Jesus. I wouldn’t trade the close relationship with Him for anything else. Every heartache, every conflict was worth it because it drew me into His arms.”

  Elizabeth reached over and patted Hope’s hand. “Besides, God’s going to grow us up somehow. That’s what all good parents do. If He’s not going to use marriage to change you and mold you into the likeness of His Son, He’ll use something else.” Elizabeth winked. “And if I were you, I’d sign up for God’s classroom of life with a handsome partner like Jonas Sutter.”

  Heat rose to Hope’s cheeks, and she fanned her face with her hand. “Elizabeth,” she offered in a shocked whisper.

  “I’ve seen the way he looks at you—”

  “Yes, I know. Jonas believes I’ll be a gut mother for Emma.”

  Elizabeth clucked her tongue. “Oh dear, is that what you’re telling yourself? That’s just the half of it. Ne, make that a quarter of it.” Elizabeth closed her eyes, and she dropped her head. When she noticed the slightest trembling of Elizabeth’s shoulders Hope realized she was crying.

  Hope squeezed the woman’s hand.

  “I was married to Amos for four years, and if given the chance I’d go back and do it all again—despite the hard work and the times of heartache. After being single well into my forties there’s nothing like knowing you matter most in the world to someone.” Elizabeth lifted her face and the rim of tears on her lower lids glimmered. Seeing it, tears filled Hope’s eyes too.

  “Don’t let your fears stop you from giving your heart away, Hope.”

  “I know I care for Jonas, and I suppose it’s growing into love. I’m just afraid that his feelings are moving ahead of mine. How will I know, Elizabeth? How will I know when the time is right for us to make that commitment?”

  “Oh, that’s easy. When you get to the place when you don’t want to be apart from him, and your heart breaks thinking over having to, listen to that. If you’re willing to step away from the things you love most to be with the man you love… well, that’s a good sign too.”

  “Are you talking about the community garden?”

&n
bsp; “The garden is important all right, but more important are your plans and the dreams you’ve built around your future. When all the ideas and plans you’ve been scheming seem like a waste of time without Jonas, then it’s a sign you’ve given him your heart.”

  Hope took in those words. She let them sink deep. Her heart tightened and ached. Before Jonas she hadn’t known this feeling—the pain of both longing and… and what?

  Tenderness. Was that it? Was her heart really hurting because she’d come to care for those two people? She didn’t even know that was possible.

  “Oh!” Elizabeth’s eyes brightened. “I know you probably need to get going. No one has all day to sit and chat with an old woman, but before you leave I have something for you. Something you asked for.”

  Elizabeth rose from her chair and went to the back storeroom. She returned with a paper bag rolled down at the top. She reached inside, pulling out a small apron.

  “Oh!” Hope’s hands flew to her face. Is that for Emma?”

  “Ja, it is.”

  Hope took it from her, and her fingers trembled slightly. She held it up. It was exactly like hers, only smaller. Tears filled Hope’s eyes and shimmered on the rim. Emotion grew in her throat when she imagined Emma’s expression when Hope gave it to her.

  “It is perfect, Elizabeth, just perfect.” She pressed the apron to her chest. “Just let me know how much I owe you.”

  Elizabeth waved a hand in the air. “You don’t owe me anything, dear girl. You’ve given so much to our community—with your time, your garden, and your smile. It’s the least I could do.”

  The warmth grew in her chest at her older friend’s kindness.

  “Can I see it?” Joy held it up. “Maybe we should stock some of these at Me, Myself, and Pie too. The kitchen aprons are selling so well I’m sure that all the customers who peek around the back at the garden would also be interested in these.”

  Hope sucked in a breath. Her first reaction was to argue—to tell Joy that she didn’t need any more visitors than she already had. But as she thought about it, having all those people around was less of a bother than she thought. She also knew that if Emma enjoyed an apron like this others would too.