“But what about Preacher Stutzman? Doesn’t he have objections?”
“The bishop said he’s a broken man since his wife passed. Stutzman still sorrows, the bishop said, and won’t stand in the way of the community helping with the house.”
“This is such wonderful news and after such a scare,” Ella said. “I can hardly believe it.”
“Well, believe it,” Daniel said, slapping the reins. “I have to get home, so have a good day.”
“Thank you,” Ella whispered as his buggy wheels rattled out the driveway.
“So the house didn’t burn down,” Dora said when Ella walked into the barn. “I’m glad, Ella.”
Forty-two
On Saturday morning, Ella stood on the hill behind the house and watched as the buggies pulled in for the work-frolic. They had to be coming from five and six districts away, the men spilling out into the yard and shouting to each other as they made plans for the day A wagon pulled in, and planks were unloaded that quickly became scaffolding around three sides of the house. Men began to nail the wooden corner beads on, followed by the vinyl siding pieces. At this speed they would be done on the front before lunchtime.
Daniel was somewhere in the group, but it was impossible to find him in the sea of hats and bonnets.
“Ella,” her daett shouted from the edge of the crowd, “come down here. They need you.”
“What can I do with so many people around?” Ella asked, walking up to where he waited.
“The women want you in the house while they paint,” he said with laughter. “I think it makes them feel better.”
“Then I’ll help with the painting.”
“Just come,” he said, leading the way through the crowd and holding the front door for her. “Go in there and tell them they’re doing great work.”
Ella squeezed past two women who were coming out with empty water buckets in their hands. One of them stopped and took Ella by the arm.
“Ella,” Lester Raber’s wife, Kristine, said. “You’re the very person we’re looking for. Where do we find the well? The women need water for their washrags.”
“The well’s behind the house,” Ella said, motioning through the walls with her hand.
“Thanks,” Kristine said. “We can’t find anything around here with all the people running around. But it’s going to be a wonderful day, and everyone should get lots of work done.”
“I know…and thank you,” Ella said as the women rushed outside to the well with their rags.
As she walked into the room that was to be her living room, Ella paused to watch the men nail the sheets of paneling to the walls. They had the ceilings already done, and through the open doorways, other men were visible busily hammering away.
“We need you, Ella,” Mamm said, pulling her against the wall as a long line of men went by carrying paneling into the rooms.
“What are we going to do with all this mess going on?” Ella asked. ‘I wasn’t expecting it to be quite this busy. It’s certainly not like working with Daniel and his men.”
“Don’t worry,” Mamm said, smiling broadly. “They’re all doing as well as Daniel, and there are more of them. We need to start painting this room as soon as they’re done in here. That’s what the women are waiting for.”
“Then I’ll help,” Ella said. “It might help to calm my nerves.”
Mamm laughed. “I’m afraid your nerves won’t calm down all day, but I don’t want you working. What you need to do is walk around and assure everyone that they’re doing what you want.”
“That’s what Daett said, and I guess I can do that,” Ella said, taking a deep breath.
“The room is all yours. We’re moving on to the next room,” one of the men shouted so loudly that Ella rubbed her ears.
As the men left the room, women carrying paint rollers and pans scurried about. Some laid drop cloths on the floor while others started trimming the room’s edges with brushes. Four women who had extensions for their paint rollers started on the ceiling. Ella watched, smiling and nodding whenever one of them glanced in her direction.
“It looks beautiful,” she said as they started on the walls.
“We need you over here,” Mose Stutzman’s wife, Martha, said, looking in from the other room. “We’re ready to start painting in the next room.”
Ella followed her to the kitchen area, the walls still bare of any cabinets.
“Do we paint everything in here?” Martha asked.
“Well,” Ella said, “cabinets still need to be installed—”
“Is the kitchen ready for me?” a male voice hollered from the door opening.
Ella turned to see the face of the local cabinetmaker, Eldon Raber, smiling in on the sea of faces.
“No,” she said, returning his smile. “We’re trying to figure out what needs to be painted.”
“Hah,” Eldon said with a wave of his hand, “with so many hardworking women around, just paint the whole thing. That way I don’t have to worry about anything, and I can hang my cabinets where I want to.”
“Well,” Ella said, “there’s your answer. Paint the whole thing.”
“Do you want to see the cabinets?” Eldon asked as the women laid out the drop cloths and started painting.
“I’d love to,” Ella said, following him through the crowded rooms to the outside.
“There,” he said, pulling back the blankets on his spring wagon. “That’s only the first load, but you can see what they look like.”
“They’re lovely,” she said, rubbing her hand gently over the smooth finish, “but you didn’t have to make them out of cherry.”
“That was Aden’s choice,” he said. “He had already talked to me about making them before he passed on.”
“Oh,” Ella said, “I didn’t know.”
“I’m sorry,” Eldon said. “I guess I should have mentioned it before, but it didn’t seem appropriate until Daniel asked me to make the cabinets a few weeks ago.”
“I can never thank you enough,” Ella said, wiping her eyes. “Everyone is being way too nice today.”
“We only want to help,” he said. “We all loved Aden. He was a gut man.”
“Yah,” she said, “he was.”
“I shouldn’t keep you,” he said. “The women need you inside, and I have more cabinets coming.”
Ella nodded, turning to go inside. Pressing through the crowd, her mamm waved at her to come toward the back of the house.
“The main bedroom is ready to paint,” she said. “The women want to know whether the light blue is what you want.”
“That’s what I told Daniel to get, but let me check,” she said, following her mother into the bedroom.
“We’re sorry to bother you,” Kristine Raber said, “but we wanted to be sure.”
“It’s perfect,” Ella said, holding the paint lid up to the light streaming in from the open window.
“I think it dries a little darker yet,” Bertha said.
“But that’s what you would want,” Mamm said, and Ella nodded.
“And all the bedrooms down here get the same blue,” Ella said.
“I think there should be enough paint,” Bertha said. “I saw a dozen gallons outside.”
“I would think there’s enough because Daniel’s good at figuring such things,” Ella said before her mamm pulled her aside.
“I hope you haven’t told Daniel to get more than two colors for the house,” Mamm whispered in her ear.
“We’re doing a darker blue on the whole upstairs,” Ella whispered back. “Surely that’s not too fancy. Daniel didn’t think so.”
“I guess not,” Mamm conceded, “but it’s pushing things. And I don’t know if you should depend so much on Daniel’s opinion. You should have asked someone older.”
“I think it’ll be okay,” Ella said. “Really, Mamm, it will be.”
“Okay,” Mamm said, seeming to relax. “And I am glad for the gut sense that you do have.”
“Thanks
, Mamm,” Ella said, squeezing her arm.
Soon after eleven, Ella joined the women outside. Someone had brought in the church wagon, and they set up the long tables in tight rows on the grass. Bertha Raber set the younger boys to work rolling out the tablecloths. They lost control of the first one in a gust of wind, which lifted up the back end and tossed it over their heads as they reached desperately skyward, trying to grab on. The cloth came flapping down across the whole line of tables, slid off onto the grass, and rolled farther down the hill.
“That’s it,” Bertha said. “We’re doing the tables without tablecloths today. I can’t afford to have the white cloths all grass strained.”
“They might stay down once there is food on,” Esther Yoder suggested.
“We can’t take that chance in this wind,” Bertha said. “The first thing we know, the whole thing—food and all—will be up in the air and down the hill.”
“Well, we can’t let that happen,” Esther said, “so I’m agreed. We’ll just have to scrub the benches clean afterward.”
“We’ll tell the men to eat carefully,” Rosemary Miller said. “Maybe they can keep from spilling their plates.”
Laughter rose from the women within earshot, and Ella joined in.
“Let’s get busy, then,” Bertha said. “I think most of the food is still in the buggies.”
Ella helped them move the food to the tables. They took the hot dishes to the two woodstoves someone had brought in and set out in the open away from any buildings. They were belching smoke out of the backs, the fires tended diligently by several young girls.
“Have you got it good and hot?” Ella asked young Irene Raber, her face red from the heat.
“As hot as I can get it in this wind,” Irene said, stuffing more wood into the firebox.
“It shouldn’t take long, then, to warm up the dishes,” Ella said, unwrapping the casserole she carried from the thick quilt. Gingerly she opened one corner of the foil-wrapped top as several women behind her did the same. Ella opened the oven door and slid her casserole in, stepping aside as the other women followed suit. Ten minutes later Ella opened the door to check, peaking into the open corner.
“It’s boiling,” she said, pulling her casserole out to wrap in the quilt again.
Walking over to the tables, she set it down and headed out to the buggies again. By noon they were almost ready, and a portable dinner bell was rung loudly. The men lined up at the washbasins, scrubbing their hands and splashing water on their faces. They dried their hands on towels draped over chairs.
Several of the young boys started splashing water and snapping their towels at each other.
“Young Henry, here, thinks he can hold a sheet of plywood overhead with his hands and start the nail with his toes,” Emery Mast said with a great laugh.
“Well I can,” Henry said, waving his hand towel around. “I had to do that this winter when we worked out in the barn. I don’t know why you don’t believe me.”
“That’s because I want to see tall tales before I believe them,” Emery said. “You could have showed us in the house.”
Henry shook his head. “There were too many women around for such a thing.”
“Hah,” Emery said. “Did you forget to clean between your toes last morning?”
“Wait till we tell Emma Rose about this,” Mose Yoder said.
Henry’s face turned bright red. “It’s not a fitting posture for a young man to stand with his foot stuck up in the air around women, but I can do it. And all of you had better mind your own business with Emma Rose.”
“I was thinking of asking her home myself,” Emery teased. “And I think this dirty toe business is the exact opening I need.”
“You’d better not,” Henry said, snapping the towel in his direction.
“Hey, I need that towel,” Bishop Miller said, reaching for it, his face dripping with water. “I hope none of you young boys plan to act up at Ella’s house building.”
“No,” Emery said, “we’re good as gold. We were just teasing Henry a bit.”
“That’s gut,” the bishop said thoughtfully, wiping his face and long beard. “I’d say we all go get a bite to eat.”
“I could use that,” Henry said. “I’m starved from all this nailing with my toes.”
They all laughed and followed the bishop over to the table.
The bishop stood at the end of table. He looked out at the people before drawing in a deep breath and speaking out.
“We are all gathered here to build Ella Yoder’s house today,” he said, his voice carrying out to the hot stoves where the young girls turned to listen. “Let us give thanks today to God who has blessed us with so many things. He has kept us safe and given us the blessings of our families, of our faith, of our communities, and now this food, which has been prepared for us. Let us pray.”
He bowed his head, and they all followed.
Ella stood at the edge of the crowd as they filled their plates and sat down to eat. These were her people and her life, and today they had gathered to help her. She pushed the stray strands of her hair under her kapp and turned into the wind to dry her eyes.
By evening the house wasn’t finished, and Daniel found Ella standing outside in the yard.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll all be back next Saturday for another frolic.”
“I’m not worried,” Ella said with a smile. “It’s just such a gut feeling to have the support of the people—our people.”
“Yah,” Daniel said, “it is gut. It is the way of our people…and the way of Da Hah.”
The following week Daniel and his crew started another job, but on Saturday they showed up with the smaller crowd who would help put the finishing touches on the house.
By the time the sun was setting, the last of the trim had been placed, the hardwood was given a final coat of varnish, and the knobs were placed on the doors.
After the last buggy left, Clara came sneaking up the hill, struggling with a plastic wrapped bundle.
“What are you doing?” Ella asked.
“I was waiting until everyone was gone,” Clara said. “I hid the quilt in your buggy this morning.”
“Ah, so we can see how it looks in the house,” Ella said, breaking into a weary smile. “I think that’s a great idea.”
Together they walked into the house, pulled off the wrapping, and carefully unfolded the layers. Ella spread the quilt out on the countertop, and, taking Clara by the arm, stepped back a ways.
“It’s so beautiful,” Ella said, pulling Clara into a tight hug. “And it was your idea to begin with.”
“I was glad to help,” Clara said, “and, yes, it is beautiful.”
After both girls wiped away tears, Clara said, “We’d better go now. Daett wants help with the chores, I’m sure.”
As they turned to leave, Ella looked back for a final glance at the quilt, still draped over the counter. Then she took Clara by the arm, and together they walked a distance up the hill for one more look before returning home.
“It is your house,” Ella whispered, “just as you drew it. Truly Da Hah has given, and Da Hah has taken.”
“Yah,” Clara said, “and with a lot of pain, but now it’s done.”
“You’re sounding like Dora,” Ella said as they laughed together.
Behind them the last rays of the sunset broke through the low clouds, painting the house a brilliant red. They stood unmoving until the color faded away. Slowly Ella started the walk down the hill with Clara following. The horse shook its head as Ella turned the buggy around on the road and threw Clara the reins. She climbed up and grasped the lines, hanging on tight as the horse dashed eagerly down the road toward Seager Hill.
Discussion Questions
1. How well did Ella do struggling with the question of why God allows sudden tragedy in our lives?
2. Was Ella justified in wanting God to show some expression of His sorrow in the storm which came after the services at the gravesite?
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3. How well did Daniel do in his attempts to comfort Ella?
4. Would you have shared Ella’s feelings when she faced the bull over Eli’s fallen body?
5. Are the justifications Eli gives Ella for the risks he’s taking with the English nurse, Pam, his real reasons?
6. Was the young Bishop Miller’s visit to Ella appropriate so soon after Aden’s passing?
7. What are Daniel’s motives in offering to help Ella build her home?
8. How will the death of Preacher Stutzman’s wife affect him in the future?
9. Is Eli planning a serious relationship in his continued contact with the English nurse, Pam?
10. Will Ella’s house give her enough courage to say no when the young Bishop comes calling in six months?
About Jerry Eicher…
As a boy, Jerry Eicher spent eight years in Honduras, where his grandfather helped found an Amish community outreach. As an adult, Jerry taught for two terms in parochial Amish and Mennonite schools in Ohio and Illinois. He has been involved in church renewal for 14 years and has preached in churches and conducted weekend meetings of in-depth Bible teaching. Jerry lives with his wife, Tina, and their four children in Virginia.
Coming April 2011
Book two in Jerry Eicher’s Little Valley series, Ella’s Wish
Ella Yoder has moved into her dream house. In the stillness of the great house, Ella ponders her options. How is she to survive on her own? How will she ever forget Aden? What is to become of her?
Two would-be suitors soon make their intentions known, but Ella is unsure of her own feelings. As she agrees to take care of Preacher Stutzman’s three motherless girls, Ella’s heart is touched by their love for her. Could their affection be the answer to Ella’s quest? Can God speak through the love of a child?
A Wedding Quilt for Ella (Little Valley 1) Page 27