“Filled with savages and the beasts. Your father has said as much in his letters.”
“He also says there is land waiting for us which has never before been claimed, surveyed, or deeded. Land, Anna. We can live in safety. We can own land.”
“Maybe there’s no place that’s truly safe for us.”
He shook his head hard. “That’s not what William Penn said. He offered a place where we can go and live in peace.”
Johann didn’t understand. He was moving toward someone—his father. His mother and brother would be traveling with him. Anna was moving away from those she loved. “My grandmother says it’s wicked to want more than you have. She wants to just stay put and thank God.”
Johann laughed. “Your grandmother is a frightened old lady who’s had a hard life. Doesn’t mean you should be scared of new things.”
“I’m not.” Yes, I am.
“Everything changes. That’s the way of life. This Greek fellow Heraclitus said there is nothing permanent except change, and I think he was right.” He leaned forward and whispered in a conspiratorial voice, “Your grandmother has made Maria promise to find you a husband in the New World. She said that Ixheim has only old toothless men and young toothless boys.” He lifted his voice an octave or two, warbling, to mimic her grandmother. “Anna must have Her Chance! She is pushing twenty without a man in sight.”
Anna laid the rose in her basket and stood, sobered by the thought. With each passing birthday, her grandmother grew increasingly distressed. The New World, she decided, was Anna’s only hope to find a like-minded bachelor.
Johann was watching her carefully, and then his eyes took on that teasing look of his. “If there’s no one in the New World who passes Maria’s muster, and if you don’t mind holding off a few years, I suppose I could marry you.”
She laughed then, and her mood shifted instantly from solemn to lighthearted, as it always did when she was around Johann. “I’ll keep such a heartwarming proposal in mind.”
“With fair wind and God’s favor,” Johann said, with his usual abundance of optimism, “we’ll reach Port Philadelphia by the end of July.”
When Anna pointed out that he was basing that assumption on all conditions being ideal and how rarely things ever turned out that way, he rolled his eyes in exasperation. “It’s God’s will. Of that my father and Christian have no doubt.”
And how does anyone object to that? How in the world?
He wiggled his eyebrows and winked at her, then hurried up the hillside to join Felix, who was already on the top, to reach the shortcut that took them back to their house. Midway up the hill, Johann stopped and bent over to catch his breath. When he topped the hill, he turned and doffed his hat at her, flourishing it before him as if he were going to sweep the floor. She grinned, and then her grin faded as he disappeared down the other side of the hill and she was left with only her worries for company.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow!
Like it or not, the journey would begin. They would travel down the Rhine River to Rotterdam, board the vessel a shipping agent had arranged as passage for them, and then they’d be off to the New World.
Anna stretched her back and moved out of the shade to feel the afternoon sun on her face. The muscles in her arms and shoulders ached from spearing the shovel into the cold earth, but it was a pleasant ache. She’d always loved working outside, much more than she did the washing and cooking and keeping up of the house, the woman’s work. The drudgery, she thought, and quickly sent an apology to the Lord for her ungrateful heart.
A furious honking of geese in the sky disrupted her reverie. Heading north for summer, she presumed. Her gaze traveled up the green hillside dotted with ruffs of gray wool. Her woollies, each one known to her by name. Her heart was suddenly too full for words as she let her gaze roam lovingly over the land she knew as home: over the rounded haystacks, the neat lambing sheds, the creek that ran almost the year round. The steep hills that brought an early sunset in summer and broke the wind in winter. It grieved her that she wouldn’t be here this year for spring, as the lambs came and the wool was sheared and the ewes were mated and then the lambs would come again. She gazed at the hills, trying to engrave it in her memory. Where would she be next spring? She wondered what home would look like, feel like, smell like. She glanced down at her basket and gripped the leather handle, hard. At least she had her rose. If it survived, so would she.
A few hours later, Anna heard the whinny of a horse and came out of the house to see who was driving up the path. She shielded her eyes from the sun and saw Christian Müller on a wagon seat, Felix beside him.
Why would Felix be riding with their minister?
She noticed the somber look on Christian’s usually cheerful face, the way Felix’s small head was bowed. She crossed her arms, gripping her elbows. The wind, raw and cold, twisted her skirts around her legs. Something’s wrong.
There came a stillness as if the whole world were holding its breath.
Let it be nothing, she entreated silently, let it be another meeting tonight to talk about the journey, or to let her know that Johann stopped to visit a friend. Let it be something silly. With every squeak of the wheels, she felt the lump in her throat grow bigger, the apprehension build.
A gust of wind swirled up the hill, flapping Anna’s dress like a sheet on a clothesline, whipping the strings of her prayer cap against her neck, and she shivered.
Christian hauled back on the reins and set the brake on the wagon. Slowly, he climbed down and waited beside the wagon, bearded chin on his chest. Felix jumped off the seat and threw his arms around Anna’s waist, shuddering with sobs.
Anna’s gaze moved over Christian’s pale face. Behind him, in the back of the wagon, was the shape of a body, covered by a gray wool blanket.
“Christian, who is it?” An icy feeling started in Anna’s stomach and traveled up her spine. “C-Christian?” she whispered again, her eyes wide, her throat hot and tight. It was then she saw tears running down Christian’s cheeks. The awful reality started to hit her full force and she pressed a fist to her lips. Dear God, she thought. Dear God, how can this be?
Christian turned away with his chin tucked down, then, almost lovingly, gently folded back the top of the blanket. His eyes lifted to meet hers. “The Lord has seen fit to take our young Johann from us.”
Discussion Questions
How did Ruthie’s shallow faith as a “preacher’s kid” change? Compare her faith journey with that of her aunt Dok’s.
Let’s look at the two young men in Ruthie’s life: Luke Schrock and Patrick Kelly. How did each of them view Ruthie? How did they influence the way she viewed herself?
Patrick Kelly said that he had learned to revel in every day. What does that attitude look like? Who is a person in your life who revels in every day? What kind of effect does he or she have on others?
Cherishing time might be another way to describe Patrick’s intent to “revel in every day.” Ruthie discovered the importance of cherishing time. How do you perceive time in your own life—is it a gift or a burden?
In what ways did Ruthie and Dok lead parallel lives? How did they inspire each other?
To quote Dok: “Sometimes there are simple solutions to complex problems.” Can you share an experience in your life when you found Dok’s words to be true?
The story of the vitamin B-12 deficiency is based on real events of a man in my church. It was quite a dramatic, about-face story! When have you had an experience when circumstances seemed so dire, so hopeless, and then they flipped on a dime? What lessons did you glean from that experience?
David Stoltzfus might have been the only one left in the church of Stoney Ridge who found redeemable qualities in Luke Schrock. “What a person does isn’t the same as who a person is,” David said. What are your thoughts about Luke? Is he a lost cause? (If you’re interested to learn more of Luke Schrock’s backstory, read The Inn at Eagle Hill series.)
Did it surprise you to read a
bout a residential facility that was customized for Amish and Mennonite patients? That’s not fictitious information; there are such places popping up around heavily populated Amish areas, and they provide a wonderful resource of counseling help for their patients.
David Stoltzfus planned to bring Luke Schrock back to the community as soon as he was released from the residential facility. David’s intention resounds of being Amish—they want their people under the protective wing of community. How would you have handled Luke? How would your church community handle him?
If you could write the next chapter in Luke Schrock’s life, what would it be?
Dok gave some advice to Ruthie. “If there’s one thing I wish someone had told me when I was your age, it was that I should be careful not to confuse wanting to matter with what really matters.” How would you describe the difference?
Why do they keep needing more? David wondered, as he thought of his church’s growing dependence on the oil leases. Why do any of them keep needing more? That’s a very provocative question. “Enough” is a rare concept in our consumer-minded world. Do you have limits in your life? What is “enough” for you?
Jesus said, “For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also” (Matt. 6:21 KJV). How was the truth of this verse demonstrated among the Amish in Stoney Ridge, Pennsylvania? How is it true in your own life?
“Without God,” David said, “the Promised Land is nothing.” The dictionary defines the Promised Land as a longed-for place or situation where happiness or satisfaction is achieved. What represents your version of the Promised Land? And where is God in your life? Where does God fit in?
Note to readers: Consider yourself invited to share your thoughts from these discussion questions with me. Or maybe you’ve got some questions of your own? I value your feedback: [email protected].
Birdy’s Baked Oatmeal
This is a favorite breakfast dish you’ll find at any Amish restaurant. Birdy’s recipe is a little unique because she adds cinnamon, walnuts, and raisins. So like Birdy.
½ cup butter, melted
1 cup brown sugar
2 eggs beaten
½ teaspoon cinnamon (optional)
3 cups quick oats
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup milk
½ cup walnuts, chopped (optional)
½ cup raisins (optional)
Cream together butter, brown sugar, and eggs. Add the rest of the ingredients to the creamed mixture. Bake in a 9" × 9" pan at 350° for 20–30 minutes (depending on your oven). Can be mixed the night before and baked in the morning. It might take a little more time to bake if the batter isn’t at room temperature. Enjoy!
Acknowledgments
My warmest and most sincere thanks to the following people:
Thanks to Ben Joyce, for sharing his story about the misdiagnosis of multiple sclerosis with me and the subsequent true diagnosis of vitamin B-12 deficiency. So glad you’re doing well!
The Revell family, who works diligently to provide good books, from content to cover, and to get them in the hands of readers. A special thank-you to Joyce Hart of Hartline Literary Agency, for being such a supportive agent. And to Andrea Doering and Barb Barnes, for adding their special editing touch to the story.
My faithful first readers: Wendy How, Amanda Fisher, Lindsey Ciraulo. You help me find the weak spots of the story while giving me encouragement, all at the same time. Amazing!
A curtsy to my special friend Nyna, who loaned me the use of her name for Nyna the Mynah. A childhood nickname, Nyna told me once, and I filed that info away. (This is why I make my friends so nervous. Everything is grit for the oyster. Everything.)
And, of course, my love to my entire family, whose essence is in the Stoltzfus clan.
Heartfelt thanks to my readers, who are incredibly supportive and dedicated. You really matter to me, and I value your feedback.
Finally, my hands lift in praise to the Almighty, who opens doors for me to write stories about how faith and life intersect. He gives me a fresh wind along the way for each new manuscript, and always prompts me to do my best.
To God be the glory.
Suzanne Woods Fisher is the bestselling author of The Letters, The Calling, the Lancaster County Secrets series, and the Stoney Ridge Seasons series, as well as nonfiction books about the Amish, including Amish Peace. She is also the coauthor of an Amish children’s series, The Adventures of Lily Lapp. Suzanne is a Carol Award winner for The Search, a Carol Award finalist for The Choice, and a Christy Award finalist for The Waiting. She lives in California. Learn more at www.suzannewoodsfisher.com or connect with Suzanne on Facebook at www.facebook.com/SuzanneWoodsFisherAuthor.
Books by Suzanne Woods Fisher
Amish Peace: Simple Wisdom for a Complicated World
Amish Proverbs: Words of Wisdom from the Simple Life
Amish Values for Your Family: What We Can Learn from the Simple Life
A Lancaster County Christmas
Christmas at Rose Hill Farm
The Heart of the Amish
AMISH BEGINNINGS
Anna’s Crossing
The Newcomer (January 2017)
LANCASTER COUNTY SECRETS
The Choice
The Waiting
The Search
SEASONS OF STONEY RIDGE
The Keeper
The Haven
The Lesson
THE INN AT EAGLE HILL
The Letters
The Calling
The Revealing
THE BISHOP’S FAMILY
The Imposter
The Quieting
The Devoted
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