A Simple Charity

by Rosalind Lauer

  After the curtain whisked closed behind the doctor, Meg took Jack’s hand and held it to her cheek.

  Good news, coupled with the joy of having Jack by her side after his mysterious disappearance. Meg felt something sweet and light glimmer through her. Happiness? Joy? It was all so fleeting, but such was the nature of life. When it shined on you, the moment had to be savored.

  40

  It was late. The children had gone off to bed hours ago, and Elsie and Caleb had just gone upstairs. Jack and Meg had also just left after an evening spent going over three different possible floor plans for the new birthing center—three maps of the future, Fanny thought. With Meg’s experience as a midwife, her feedback and suggestions were important. Now that they had a chance to start from scratch, it was a good time to improve the floor plan.

  At the kitchen table, Fanny sat writing down figures in a notepad. It was a ledger, of sorts, for the new center. Zed and Mr. Hennessey at the hardware store had worked out estimates of what building materials would cost, and she was keeping track of everything. An estimate was coming in from the lumberyard, too, and Tim Ebersol was getting them a contractor discount.

  Zed sat beside her, sketching out a revised floor plan based on Meg’s suggestions. Good with a pencil, he drew straight lines and had a knack for figuring out how to fit things into the plan.

  “How about a scrub sink for the midwives over in this corner?” he said, pointing to the paper. “That way, it leaves more space in the hallway.”

  “That would be good,” Fanny agreed, watching as he formed a handful of lines that resembled a sink. Amid the sweeping and shoveling, she had been watching him all day, but she hadn’t been the only one. Everyone had been looking to Zed for direction on the best way to clear the sad, crumpled building. In the past year, he had come to be a part of this community again, accepted and appreciated. He was so dear to her! She hoped and prayed for a lifetime of evenings such as this, with Zed by her side.

  As she finished adding up some numbers in the ledger, her mind went back to the talk she’d had with the bishop earlier that day. Samuel had given his blessing for them to marry! Joy fluttered inside her at the thought of it. And all her worries over the rumors had faded in the light of the truth. There was no shame in a man and a woman who loved each other under Gott’s blessing of marriage.

  “That’s a good offer from Tate and Zoey.” Zed kept drawing as he spoke. “Have you seen the cottages?”

  The Jordans had said that one of the guest cottages on their property could be used as a birthing center if needed in the next few months. “I haven’t seen them, but Meg is going to show me. We’ll see.”

  “Mmm. And I have one more question for you.”

  She drew a little heart in the margin of the ledger. “And what is that?”

  “Will you ever let me court you?”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “Widows don’t go on dates like young people. There’s no time for that when you’re as old as me with a houseful of children.”

  “Then marry me, Fanny.”

  Letting the pen drop from her fingers, she turned to him coyly. Her heart was racing, but she couldn’t bear a repeat of what had happened on second Christmas. She rose from the table and extended her hand. “Kumm.”

  He squinted at her, curious.

  “I have an answer for you, out on the mud porch.” Leading him by the hand, they passed through the kitchen door and sank into the cold darkness of the porch. “It’ll be more private out here,” she whispered, although no one but Zed was around to hear. Leaning against a post, she peered up and waited as her eyes adjusted to the soft darkness and the smooth line of his jaw began to take shape. Some things were worth the wait.

  “So, what was your question?” Reaching up in the dark, she found his shoulders and steered him closer. “The one I’ve been longing to hear.”

  “The one I’ve been longing to speak: Marry me and be my wife.” His hands slipped around her waist, and she shivered with pleasure as he encircled her in his arms.

  “Those are the sweetest words … like the song of birds. I do want to marry you. My heart is so full, brimming over with love.” She blinked back tears. “Gott’s blessings come to us in surprising ways, don’t they?” Amid the heartbreaking accidents, the sorrow and pain, Gott’s love kept shining through.

  “The Almighty is a wonder.” His fingertips traced the line of her jaw, sending sweet shivers down her spine. “Only He can make a broken man whole again. Only He could join a lonely man with a loving family.”

  “A family in need of a good man.” She sighed against his broad, firm chest. “I thank Gott for every day with you.”

  “To be by your side through the night and wake up beside you in the morning, to raise your little ones to be good Amish men and women … it’s more than any man could dream of.” He leaned down to tease his lips against her ear. “And Gott willing, we’ll have children of our own to teach.”

  “Gott willing,” she said firmly. He lifted her chin and she swayed against him, feeling as if she could melt in his arms. Grateful for the privacy of darkness, she closed her eyes and lost herself in his kiss.

  41

  On her wedding day, Meg moved in a cloud of happiness. Zoey doted on her, straightening her bronze hair so that it gleamed. Her skin glowed porcelain under the makeup that Mom had applied for her. The dress Shandell had sewn was comfortable and so flattering that Meg had felt a jolt of surprise when she’d seen herself in the mirror this afternoon.

  “I look like a bride.”

  “A beautiful bride,” Zoey added.

  “Oh, honey.” Mom’s eyes misted with tears, not for the first time that day. “I’m so happy for you.”

  “Happy and surprised,” Meg said, giving her mother a reassuring hug. “Come on, Mom, we know those are tears of relief. Your spinster daughter is tying the knot. You thought you’d never see this day.”

  “Don’t say that.” Vicki fanned her eyes, as if that could dry the tears. “You know I’ve always wanted the best for you. And now, you’ve found him. Jack was definitely worth waiting for.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Meg took a moment to bask in the smiles of her mother and sister, her family’s joy a significant part of the celebration of life and love on this wondrous day.

  Not one to fuss with hair, makeup, or clothes, Meg had smiled at the beautiful bride in the mirror. This was an unexpected blessing.

  A delicate lace design seemed to border her thoughts in a whimsical, un-Meglike way that suggested that life as Mrs. Jack Woods was going to be full of surprises.

  The first surprise had come that morning when Jack had appeared at her door with two paper cups and a paper sack of muffins. “Thought I’d bring my bride breakfast,” he’d said, leaning against the doorframe.

  She had waved him in and taken a cup of coffee. “Isn’t it supposed to be bad luck to see the bride on the wedding day?” she’d teased.

  “Nah. That’s just the dress.” He came around behind her and massaged her shoulders. “I just wanted to make sure you were feeling good and relaxed, and I figured it would be good to start things off with God’s blessing. Want to pray with me?”

  “Oh, Jack …” She could not have imagined a lovelier, more reverent start to their lives together. She bit her lower lip as she turned to him with a nod.

  With clasped hands and lowered heads, they had joined together to commit themselves to walk together in God’s love.

  Waiting in the church vestibule, Meg sniffed the lovely white roses in her bouquet and paced the length of the vestibule. She wasn’t nervous about being married to Jack, but the idea of being one of the major players in this ceremony gave her pause. All you have to do is walk down that aisle, she reassured herself, and Jack will be by your side for the rest.

  One of the big wooden doors opened and Sheriff Hank came through with his wife, Maybelle. “The big day!” he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

  Maybelle touched Meg’s sleeve. �
�You look gorgeous, dear.”

  She thanked the couple, and then they disappeared through the open door to the small church, just as Zoey rushed in. Wisps of blond hair that had pulled loose from the twist fluttered around her face like a cherubic halo.

  “Well. Your niece has decided that she does not want to attend the ceremony. That is, unless the pianist wants to play along with a shrill soprano.”

  “Poor little thing. Where is she now?” Meg tipped her head to one side.

  “With Elsie Lapp, bless her heart. That young woman has a magic touch. She’s walking Grace around in the parking lot. Fanny offered to take her, but I didn’t want her to miss the ceremony.”

  “Okay, then.” Meg clasped her bouquet to her chest and took a deep breath. “I guess it’s time to do this thing.”

  “Yes, indeed.” Zoey stepped closer and slid an arm around her sister’s waist. “And I am here to walk you down the aisle. I know, I know, you planned to go on your own steam, independent woman that you are. But every bride needs a boost from her family. A little send-off.”

  It was Meg’s turn to blink back tears. “Thank you. I was beginning to feel like I was about to walk the plank. It has nothing to do with marrying Jack and everything to do with walking down a tiled aisle in heels.”

  Zoey’s chuckle echoed through the vestibule. “Silly girl.” She gave a quick hug, then linked her arm through Meg’s. “If you’re jumping ship, I’m right by your side. Sisters forever.”

  “And ever.” Meg tipped her head toward her sister’s shoulder, and then, with the synchronicity of sisters and lifelong friends, they stepped into the doorway together and began the wedding march up the aisle.

  The ceremony was a new layer in Meg’s billowing cloud of happiness. Grateful for the joy welling inside her, she was very in the moment as she joined hands with Jack and exchanged vows. The pragmatic part of her recognized that their journey would be marked by sorrow and disappointment, but there was also love—a boundless sea of God’s love to keep them together and carry them over the tough times.

  In preparation for the small reception, the inn had been festooned with greenery and small floral arrangements—festive yet simple, in keeping with Meg and Jack’s wishes.

  Jack’s boyhood friend Skeets toasted the couple, wishing them love and happiness in five languages. “I don’t know the Pennsylvania Dutch dialect, but I’ve been told by some of my new friends here to say, ‘Geh lessa,’ which I think means go with it. Not a bad bit of advice for any married couple.”

  Meg felt Jack squeeze her hand under the table as Skeets lifted a glass to them. “Jack, my buddy, I have to say, I never saw this coming in the days of Slip N’ Slide and action figures. By the way, I think you still have my Incredible Hulk. In any case, I love you, man, and I wish you and Meg a lifetime of love and happiness.”

  “Hear, hear!” everyone chimed in, and Meg nodded her thanks, then clinked her glass of sparkling cider with Jack’s.

  After a quick sip, Meg scanned the big table, wanting to soak up the friendly faces and the air, so thick with laughter and love. Skeets winked at her, and his wife, Lanie, lifted her glass in a toast. Zoey blew her a kiss, then placed a hand on her husband’s shoulder. Tate nodded as he patted the bundle in his arms, searching for the sweet spot that would soothe baby Grace. Mom and Kip smiled, beaming their support. Kat held her glass high, her eyes shining bright with hope for her baby brother’s happiness. Beside her, Gran tugged her dangly earring, a secret signal she used to send Jack across the room when he was onstage in the school show. Meg could feel the love from Elsie and Anna, Dr. Trueherz and his wife, Celeste, and dear Fanny and Zed, who had hosted their own wedding dinner just last week. It had been Meg’s first Amish wedding, a solemn affair followed by a fine roast chicken dinner at the home of Zed’s parents, Rose and Ira. Folks told Meg the celebration was smaller than most, as a huge fuss was not made when a widow wed, but Meg and Jack had counted nearly forty guests. Meg had been grateful to be included in the family gathering.

  Meg knew that she and Jack were blessed to be surrounded by this wonderful extended family. Full of thanks, she turned to her handsome husband, whose face was animated with tenderness and joy. The clang of silverware on crystal rose around them.

  “Okay, Skeets.” Jack waved toward his friend, not taking his eyes off Meg. “We got this.” He tipped his face toward hers. “Love you, Megs.”

  “I love you, too,” she said amid the high-pitched clamor that competed with her racing pulse. She closed her eyes against the noise and kissed her husband.

  42

  The sounds of hammers, saws, chirping birds, and conversation filled the air as men swarmed over the platform that had already been built at the site of the old carriage house. More than a hundred Amish workers had assembled from nearby church districts for the “barn raising”—the construction of the new birthing center’s outer walls and roof, which, the master builder had assured everyone, would be completed in one day.

  Lugging a pot of fresh coffee just brewed in her kitchen, Fanny couldn’t help but grin at the clusters of gathered folk. Like a colony of ants, men covered the work site. They marched in line carrying framed trusses. They pounded final nails into the platform. They huddled in groups, pointing and discussing the next step. Children played over by the beech trees, taking turns on the swing and ducking in and out of the little house Zed had helped Will build with wood scraps. Under the canopy, women set up tables and benches for the dinner that would be served around the noon hour. The large tent had been erected yesterday; however, the weather was cooperating nicely for an April day, with sunshine and a few blustery kicks of wind.

  “Here’s fresh coffee,” Fanny said, approaching the serving table.

  “Perfect timing,” Meg said. She opened the lid of the large thermal serving vat so that Fanny could add the fresh coffee.

  In the blink of an eye, four workers were lined up with paper cups. The women stepped back as the men served themselves, sipped for a moment, then quickly got back to work.

  “They certainly don’t waste much time,” Meg said. “Quite different from your average American coffee break.”

  “The Amish know how to relax and have leisure time,” Fanny said. “But when there’s work to be done, there’s no time for laziness.”

  Rose and Edna came over with Meg’s photo album from her honeymoon. After their wedding, Meg and Jack had flown off to the Caribbean to spend two weeks on the beach. Upon their return, they had moved in to the renovated cottage on Tate and Zoey’s land—very convenient for Meg, who had only to walk next door to help deliver a baby.

  Now a handful of women clustered together to marvel over the photos of the turquoise waters.

  “The color of the sea in St. Thomas is such a wonder,” said Rose. “Is the water truly that way?”

  “It is, and it’s pretty warm for swimming,” Meg said, flipping a few pages to show them the coral reef. “They say it’s because the water is so clear and the bottom is mostly sand.”

  The women oohed and aahed over the photos, remarking on the unusual mangrove trees, the exotic flowers, and the fancy drinks with paper umbrellas popping out of the top.

  “Such a small umbrella would be just the right size for a tiny mouse,” Edna said, eliciting a round of chuckling.

  Rose held up a hand, stopping the conversation. “Mind—they’re about to raise the first truss.”

  A joyful silence fell over the women as the workers lifted and hoisted a huge piece of framing that had already been assembled. Fanny found that she was holding her breath as the large piece swung into the air, rising until it stood tall as a pine tree.

  Such a sight! A true sign of people working together, a community assembled to help one another. Soon the hammering resumed, and everyone breathed a happy sigh.

  “This is amazing.” Meg’s loose red hair glinted in the sun. “Not even an hour in and they’re already raising the house frame.”

  “That will be
the side wall,” Fanny said. “The master builder has men to assemble the frame in advance. I’ve seen a few barn raisings, and it’s always a wonder how everything fits together. By the end of the day, we should have a roof and four red walls.”

  They had decided on red so that the building would stand out for anxious fathers or visiting doctors. The little red house down the lane. In the past few months, Fanny had given up some of her original ideas for the birthing center and accepted the design and features that the community wanted. That was the difference between this building and the old carriage house: This center was not hers; it belonged to the community.

  Soon the second truss was raised, and then the third. Men straddled the rafters, hammering and hoisting boards.

  Edna left to go back home and fetch the coleslaw and pickles she was contributing to the lunch. Soon Fanny and the other women would need to fire up the grills and start cooking chicken for the men. Sixty roasters! Good thing they had borrowed the big grills used in charity events.

  “Mamm! Mamm,” called a young voice. Nearly every woman under the tent turned toward the young caller. It turned out to be Fanny’s Will, running up the hill. In his arms was a pitcher of lemonade, which he gingerly tried not to spill. He brought it to Fanny. “Elsie says to give this to you.”

  “Denki. And where are you headed?”

  “Back to work. I’ve got to help Dat.”

  Her lips tugged into a smile. Since the wedding in March, Will had started thinking of Zed as his father. “Denki. Back to work with you.”

  As the boy raced off, Fanny set the pitcher on the table and reflected on how her marriage to Zed had been a good thing for their family. Tommy had taken to Zed, following him around like a little duckling. And it felt so natural for Zed to sit at their supper table and then read to the children and tuck them in to bed.