Fields of Corn: The Amish of Lancaster

by Sarah Price

  "I...Well, I don't really know," Shana started. Lillian's directness startled her, catching her off-guard. She hadn't even been aware that anyone, besides Emanuel, truly knew about her pregnancy. "I imagine the child will decide when the time is right. We'll teach all of our children Christian values and continue attending the church. But the decision? That has to be theirs."

  "And what religion are you baptized?"

  "I was baptized as a child, Lillian, from a Christian faith, but not of Anabaptist descent. Although my parents didn't force a particular faith upon me, they knew I'd choose my own when the time was right."

  "And what did you choose?"

  Shana frowned, curious as to the reasons behind Lillian's questions. Shana didn't respond, ashamed at her answer. Her parents had chosen no religion, not actively. And she, as their offspring, had followed in their footsteps. They did not belong to a church, and neither did she. "The time has not been right," Shana admitted quietly.

  The seriousness vanished from her face and Lillian smiled. Protectively, she rubbed her enlarged stomach and said, "My children will certainly follow in my footsteps, although I appreciate the philosophy of your parents. At the foot washing this past season, Lindy cried because she couldn't go. Already she understands that we're more than just a church. We are a community and a family. It's nice to know that they're there for us."

  "Your baby is due soon, then?" Shana asked, eager to change the subject.

  "End of this month." She looked out the window dreamily. "I hope I never stop having children," she said softly. "I'd be happiest if I was always surrounded by their smiling faces and happy laughter. Children bring such joy to the farm." She met Shana's gaze again. The placid look on her face, so content and serene, almost forced envy into Shana's heart. "You'll see, Shana. A farm in the springtime is the best time of year. The busiest, too. But add a little child to that, with all of their wonder and curiosity..."

  A silence ensued. Neither dared to break it for a moment. Lillian vanished into her depth of thoughts, thinking about the glory of motherhood while Shana watched her, envious of her sister-in-law's self-tranquility. Finally, the coffee began percolating and, the silence broken, Shana got up to pour them each a cup.

  For the next half-an-hour, they talked about the crops their farms would yield the next harvest and about the breakup of Steve and Liddy May. Lillian confided that she wondered about an interest Steve had taken in a neighbor's hired girl who was helping the family while the wife had taken ill. When the clock chimed again, Lillian got up and explained that she had to hurry home before Jonas Jr. worried after her.

  She disappeared into the washroom and put on her thick wool cape. Then, to Shana's surprise, she gently handed her a small wrapped parcel and whispered, "I made them myself for you," then hurried out of the house after a quick and distant good-bye. Shana watched from the window, pleased to see Emanuel emerge from the barn to help her with the buggy. Then, with a friendly wave at the house, Lillian drove the buggy down the lane toward her home.

  The buggy slowly disappeared and, with it, the clattering of the wheels against the cold road became just a gentle ringing in her ear. When it was finally gone, Shana turned her attention back to the package in her hand. It was wrapped in what looked like an old paper bag. Carefully, for she could tell that its contents were delicate, she unwrapped the paper and took out the precious present Lillian had made for her.

  At first, she was startled. Setting the package on the kitchen counter, she held the lily-white head covering up first. A second one, black, remained in the paper. The handmade organza caps, perfectly round with two strings hanging down the sides, brought tears to her eyes. She knew the amount of time it must have taken Lillian to make these head coverings, especially when she had so many other things to do.

  Carrying the white cap over to the mirror, Shana hesitated before placing it on her head. The strings hung over her shoulders and, imitating the way Lillian wore her own cap, Shana tied a tiny bow at the end of them. Her fingers lingered, her eyes downcast as she touched the bow. The material felt stiff as she gently stroked the thin ribbon-like strings. Then, brushing her hair off of her forehead and holding her breath, she lifted her eyes and gazed into the small mirror over the sink.

  The person that gazed back frightened her. She barely recognized herself with the naturally colored cheeks, the large brown eyes and the white prayer cap that rested on the back of her head. The neckline of her dress showed off her slender neck, bare of any jewelry. The dark color of the fabric made her skin resemble the color of fresh milk. Yet, as her dark eyes sought the reflection for a trace of the young woman she had once been, she found only a stranger peering back.

  "Shana?"

  Startled, Shana spun around, the cap falling from her head. She bent down and grabbed it, holding it against her chest as she faced Emanuel's inquisitive gaze. She hadn't heard him entered and wasn't certain how long he had been watching her. But she felt the hot blush covering her cheeks.

  He stared at her, his blue eyes taking in the white head covering in her hands. Then, he drifted his gaze to the partially unwrapped black one, the cap worn for baptism, that she had set upon the counter. Emanuel walked over and, gently, picked it up. It looked so delicate in his large, calloused hands. For what seemed like minutes, he toyed with it, his eyes glazing over as he disappeared into his own world.

  She watched him, breathlessly. What was he thinking? The privacy of the moment so suddenly broken, she wondered whether he felt anger or pride. She knew the answer as he returned to the moment and walked toward her, reaching out to set the black covering on her head. Gently, he placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around. His inquisitive eyes stared into the mirror as he stood behind her, his hands still lightly touching her back.

  "I...I don't know if I can do it, Emanuel," she finally whispered into the reflection.

  "I don't know if I can't," he replied solemnly. He dropped his hands from her shoulders and turned away. She watched him in the mirror as he headed for the kitchen doorway into the washroom.

  "It doesn't mean the same things to me," she said quickly, her voice still soft yet strong.

  He paused in the doorway, his back hunched over as he reached out to open the door. "It doesn't have to," he replied before disappearing out of the house and into the cold winter air, leaving Shana alone to remove the covering that he had placed upon her head.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Shortly after Lillian's visit to Shana, the cold weather cleared out and signs of spring began to appear. The birds returned from their migration south and two of the cows gave birth. Emanuel began to spend more and more time in the fields, preparing for the spring planting. It was early for the warm weather to start but the days began to lengthen shortly after the birth of Lillian's second child, a son she named Jacob. There were few occasions for visiting then, although one Wednesday in April, Emanuel and Shana rode over to Katie and Jonas' farm to say hello and meet the youngest and newest member of the Lapp family.

  By early April, Emanuel was gone for most of the day. Shortly after milking the cows, a chore Shana now helped with daily, he'd harness the two mules and retreat to the fields. Shana would finish washing the breakfast dishes before starting her own daily chores. After cleaning the house, something she tried to do every day, and feeding the two horses, she'd take a hot pot of coffee to the chilly fields to provide some relief to Emanuel while he plowed the fields.

  From pre-dawn to after-dusk, Emanuel plowed his fields. The farm, a full 65 acres, would allow one man 20 acres of corn crops that year. And Emanuel planned on yielding over 100 bushels per acre. In the meantime, Shana started building her chicken coop and, on a rainy Thursday, Emanuel drove into town and returned with two hens and a cocky rooster. From that day on, Shana never found herself idle for more than a few wishful minutes during the day.

  By the end of April, along with the fresh sun and warm air, spring brought her the first batch of chicks. Shana he
ard the peeping before she entered the chicken coop. And, as she carefully entered, she saw her first yellow chick. Born during the night, one chick, still wobbling on its skinny legs, had ventured out from its shell and away from the protection of its nonchalant mother.

  "Betsy! Look how beautiful your babies are!" Shana exclaimed. She scooped down and picked up the fuzzy chick. Nuzzling her nose against the warmth of its fresh peach fuzz, she smiled and shut her eyes. The chick peeped a couple of times before Shana remembered that there were more and, after all of their hard work, they must be hungry.

  She took longer than usual to feed the chickens that day. She sprayed the feed on the floor, watching as the chicks copied each other as they scrambled for food. Two eggs hadn't hatched yet and, later when she mentioned it to Emanuel, to her tearful dismay, he told her they probably never would.

  Twice a week, especially as the chicks grew, Shana chased them outside and washed down the inside of the coop. But, the harder she tried to keep it clean, the messier it seemed to get. Most of the day, the chickens stayed inside their closed in pen while the rooster wandered around the farm. But, even though she kept the rooster separated from the hens, another batch of chicks was born shortly after the first batch had lost all of their peach fuzz.

  "I don't understand," she complained at night to Emanuel. "I kept them apart and thought I found all of the eggs. How could this have happened?"

  Emanuel laughed at her plight. With over fifteen chickens now, twelve of them young, hungry chicks, she had enough chickens to handle and gave up on naming them. The rooster hung around the cages as though waiting for his chance. But Shana, onto his game, was more careful during feedings and cleanings.

  As the chilly spring air became warmer, the cats returned to the farm. It didn't take long for Shana to discover that the baby chicks were no longer safe under the careful supervision of the mother hen. Twice, she found evidence of cats in the henhouse and three chicks disappeared. When she finally found the remains of one of them, she spent the next hour in tears until Emanuel managed to calm her down. He couldn't understand her emotions over the lost chicks but he tried to explain that new life on a farm did not mean that death could not follow.

  She painted a sign "Fresh Eggs For Sale" and placed it at the end of the driveway. Within a few days, she had a regular clientele of neighbors trickling up her driveway every day. Some neighbors came once a week, others came twice. But they made certain that they always knocked at the door and paused for a few moments chatter before asking for their supply. Some days, Shana had to walk out to the end of the driveway and turn the sign around. Until the chicks turned into chickens, her egg supply could not meet the local demand.

  By early May, Shana shed her shoes and started her garden. She was thankful when Sylvia came over from Katie's for a week to help Shana plan her first garden. Six and a half months pregnant, Shana tired easily and began experiencing back pains. She hated being so overweight and found it hard to bend over all morning. Quiet Sylvia was a relief, especially since Shana was uncertain how and what to plant. Together, they had decided to plant tomatoes, lettuce, carrots, celery, cucumbers, and beans. For Shana, that was all she felt she could handle. "We'll plant more next year," she explained to the disappointed Sylvia.

  It was during the last day of planting that Sylvia mentioned the instructional at the church. They were finishing the last row of tomatoes. Sylvia had shown Shana how far apart to plant them and put the stakes in the ground. Tying the last young stalk to the stake, Sylvia glanced up at Shana, a slight sweat breaking on her brow. "Did Emanuel tell you that Ana’s attending her instructional this spring?" she asked in her soft voice.

  Shana stood back and admired the work of art they had accomplished during that long day. Her back ached and she felt weak. She tired easily but, as her eyes feasted on the long rows of tiny plants in the freshly tilled soil, she felt the inkling of pride. "Instructional?" she replied as she bent down and patted some more earth around a lettuce plant. "I thought she finished schooling."

  "Ja," she mumbled as she stood up and wiped her dirty hands on her apron. "But this is church instructional. She has to attend prior to the fall communion."

  Shana snapped her gaze to meet Sylvia's. "Church instructional?" Shana repeated softly, her gaze drifting to the rolling hill beyond the barn. "Has Emanuel ever attended?"

  "I believe." Sylvia stepped out of the soil and onto the grass. She wiped her feet before bending over to pick up her shoes. "You have to attend before you join. It's called die Gemee nooch geh."

  "Die gimme what?"

  Sylvia laughed at Shana's weak German pronunciation. It was the first time Shana had heard Sylvia's gentle laughter. "Die Gemee nooch geh. To follow the church, Shana."

  "Die Gemee nooch geh," Shana repeated to herself.

  "The next church Sunday is the first meeting," Sylvia added as they started walking back to the house.

  "Really?" The baby shifted inside of her enlarged stomach and, for a moment, she paused. Each movement of her unborn child excited her. What was it Lillian had said, she wondered. "Spring is the best time on a farm," she whispered.

  "Did the baby kick again, then?" Sylvia asked anxiously.

  Despite having always been surrounded by young children, Sylvia still seemed curious and almost envious of each newborn that entered the world. She delighted in Lillian’s children and was eager to help Shana when her baby was born. Shana wasn’t certain whether it was material instinct or cultural expectations that made her young sister-in-law so interested in babies but she did know that she would be quite glad to have the young girl’s help when the baby finally arrived.

  "Right here," Shana said as she showed Sylvia where to place her hand. She watched as her young sister-in-law's face lit up when the baby shifted again.

  That night, after they had milked the cows and finished preparing supper, Emanuel emerged from the dusky darkness and stomped into the washroom. The kitchen faucet ran and he sloshed water around the basin as he washed his hands and face. Then, reaching for a towel, he rubbed his flesh dry and walked into the kitchen.

  "The garden looks as though it will yield enough food for a family of ten," he teased.

  "Then that should be enough to feed this household, if we keep working so hard," she retorted playfully.

  "With all that food, I should have enough energy to work twice as many hours in a day."

  Shana laughed. "There are twice as many hours in a day, Emanuel. But twelve of them are called night." Even Sylvia smiled at their teasing banter. "I couldn't have done it without Sylvia's help," Shana offered the compliment cautiously.

  "Perhaps she will have to help again when you have other things to tend to," Emanuel said, insinuating that Shana would have her hands full after the baby's birth without actually mentioning Shana's pregnancy. He sat down at the head of the table and let his sister serve him. Shana sat to his right and smiled her appreciation to Sylvia as she finished setting the steaming plates of fresh vegetables, mashed potatoes, and smoked ham on the table. Then, Sylvia sat across from Shana and bowed her head in prayer.

  "O Lord God, heavenly Father, bless these gifts that thou hast tenderly given us," she mumbled quietly. "Feed the hunger and quench the thirst of our souls until life eternal and bestow before us thy heavenly table through Jesus Christ. Amen."

  Emanuel glanced up and, catching Shana's curious gaze, he winked at her before turning his attention back to his younger sister. "Well done, Sylvia. In case we had forgotten, you did well reminding us."

  Startled, she looked up. "Did I pray aloud?"

  "Either that or we've become mind readers."

  Ashamed, she lowered her head. "Please forgive me."

  Laughing, Emanuel reached across the table for the potatoes. "Never ask for forgiveness for seeking the Lord," he replied soothingly and, when she looked up, he spared her a kind smile.

  After a brief silence with plates being passed around the table, Shana cleared her throat and s
aid, "Mary Yoder came by today for eggs." Each meal was spent retelling who had stopped by the farm or paused for a visit along the road. Normally, at least two hours of her day was spent visiting with some neighbor who came to buy eggs or stopped by on their way home from some errand. If she wasn't too busy, Shana often invited them in for a glass of lemonade or ice tea. She found most of her neighbors warm and friendly. For the most part, she enjoyed being invited into their lives, to hear the local farm gossip. "Did you know that the farm down the road is for sale?" she asked.

  Emanuel looked up from his plate. "The Millers are moving then?"

  "The Beilers," she corrected. She noticed the frown on his face. "I believe they're moving to Ohio to be closer to their relatives. I wasn't aware that they were from Ohio." But Emanuel's eyes clouded over and she knew that he wasn't listening to her.

  For the rest of the meal, he remained quiet, the wheels of his mind spinning in a direction far from anything else Shana or Sylvia had to say. So, in silence, everyone ate. After the meal, Emanuel quietly left the table and retreated upstairs. While Sylvia washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen, Shana put away the leftovers and listened to the creaking of the floorboards as Emanuel walked around until, finally, silence prevailed.