by Sarah Price
Chapter Seven
“Two attendants?” Naomi said. “Why, I never heard of such a thing!”
Drusilla fought the urge to roll her eyes. She hadn’t wanted to choose between Naomi and
Miriam as to which one of them would stand beside her during her wedding vows. After discussing it with Caleb, he had agreed that she should ask both of them. Now, however, with Naomi making a fuss, she was sorry that she had not just asked Caleb’s sister, Jane.
“Which one will stand beside you, then?” Naomi insisted.
“Oh, I reckon the one that complains the least,” Drusilla retorted in a partially teasing voice.
For a long few minutes, Naomi remained silent.
They were sitting at the picnic table and enjoying a warm autumn day. The leaves on the trees had yet to turn color, even though it was the first week of November. The cooler summer had given way to a much warmer than usual autumn. Drusilla heard more than one person remark that the seasons seemed to be mixed up as to their proper timing. Frankly she agreed with them.
With only a week until her wedding, both Miriam and Naomi were finishing the sewing on their dresses that they planned to wear for Drusilla’s wedding. Or, rather, Miriam was bent over the material, working on the hem for both dresses. Naomi, however, had arrived in a dark mood, unwilling to help.
The dresses were a deep navy blue and would contrast nicely against Drusilla’s light blue dress. Drusilla had finished her own dress, cut in a pretty light blue fabric, just two days before.
It hung from a peg on the back of her door, a wooden hanger keeping it from wrinkling.
“What’d your daed do about those pumpkins?” Miriam asked as she knotted the tread and then bit it with her teeth.
“He had to buy some from another farmer to fulfill the order.” And Drusilla knew that the loss of income due to the extra expense was just as heart-rending as the fact that now the pumpkins in his father’s field were beginning to ripen—two weeks too late. What they would do with so many pumpkins was not something Drusilla cared to think about. While she liked pumpkin pie, she wasn’t a big fan of pumpkin pies.
“Oh help!” Miriam said. “Probably from another state then, ja?”
Drusilla nodded. “The only good news, I reckon, is that the other farmer certainly sold all of his pumpkins.”
Miriam held out the dress and studied it. “I think it’s just about finished.” With a smile, she looked at Drusilla. “You like it?”
It was beautiful. Miriam had always been wonderful with a needle and thread. Whether she was quilting or making clothing, Miriam produced beautiful work. And, in the winter months she loved to crochet, knit, and do needlepoint. It was a gene that appeared to have passed onto her but not Naomi.
“I sure hope your family likes pumpkin,” Drusilla said. “I reckon Maem will be making quite a few for the wedding and worship services for a while. I do feel bad for my daed, though. Such a loss for him.”
“Everyone’s crops were the same,” Miriam remarked as she folded up the dress and placed it on the top of the picnic table.
Drusilla reached out and touched the soft fabric. “Ja, vell, we can’t control nature any more than we can control God’s will.”
“You sound just like our fathers!” Miriam teased her.
“I’m sure they are only just repeating what their father and grandfather said before them!”
Both of them laughed, only Naomi remaining with a fierce look on her face. Drusilla wondered if her cousin was still stewing over her comment about the attendants.
“What’s bothering you, Naomi?” Drusilla asked when she still didn’t respond or comment after a few minutes had passed. “I was teasing about the complaining,” she added.
“That’s not it.”
“Then what is it?”
Naomi looked at Miriam and lifted an eyebrow as if questioning her sister. Whatever unspoken message passed between them, neither one wanted to disclose its content. At times like these, Drusilla felt a touch of envy (with a lower case “e” so that it wouldn’t be a sin) that her relationship with Hannah was lacking the confidential nature of true sisters. And, for the very first time, Drusilla felt like an outsider.
Finally, Miriam gave an exaggerated sigh. “No sense in not telling you, then,” she said. “I’ve met someone at market that I’ve been courting.”
Her admission stunned Drusilla. She couldn’t help but stare at Miriam in wonderment. If anything, Drusilla would have suspected that Naomi would be the first one to court. After all, she was much more outspoken and forward, friendly with everyone to some degree and certainly not very reserved.
As that thought crossed her mind, Drusilla realized exactly why Naomi was upset. It wasn’t just that her sister was courting someone that bothered her; it was that she was not courting anyone. The very characteristics that Drusilla had just thought would be the reasons why Naomi would be attractive to a young man were exactly the very reasons why she was courting no one at all.
But Drusilla did not want to take away any joy from Miriam.
“That’s wunderbarr! Is he from our church district?”
When Miriam shook her head, Drusilla frowned. “Then from where, Miriam?”
“Maryland. I met him at market. He’s a vendor there. A woodcarver.”
“Oh!” Her surprise was so great that she accidentally stuck her finger with the needle that
she was using.
Maryland? Why, that would mean that Miriam would be moving away to another state, too.
While Drusilla had been so focused on her own situation, feeling lonely for her cousins even before she had moved away, she had forgotten that Miriam and Naomi also had their own lives and decisions to make. If they both wanted to marry, they, too, would be in a similar situation as Drusilla and forced to either move to a new state or support a husband in a non-agricultural occupation. In Miriam’s case, she was about to do both.
Before Drusilla could read Naomi’s reaction to this revelation, her cousin looked away.
There was nothing that Drusilla could say to comfort her. After all, Drusilla, too, was moving away.
Miriam seemed to read Drusilla’s mind. “Ja, I know,” she said. “Moving away is a scary thing. But Irvin is a right gut man and we can both work his stand at market. We’ll be together and that’s the most important thing, ja?”
At this, Naomi stood up and took two steps away from the picnic table. She crossed her arms over her chest and breathed heavily, as if trying to calm herself. Neither Drusilla nor Miriam said anything; they merely waited for Naomi to compose herself.
“It’s not fair,” she said at last, turning around. There were tears in her eyes and her cheeks looked blotchy. “Everything is changing! And so fast, too! Mammi Ana is not well, both of you are getting married and leaving Pennsylvania. What’s next?”
For the first time that Drusilla could remember, a tear fell from Naomi’s eyes. This softer side of her cousin surprised her. First the revelation about Naomi’s passion for photography, one that she had to give up when she took her kneeling vow the previous autumn, now tears?
Quickly, Drusilla stood up and reached out, wrapping her arms around Naomi in a compassionate embrace.
“Things are changing,” she said in a soft voice. “We are growing up.”
“Ja vell,” Naomi sniffled, pulling back from Drusilla’s embrace. She reached up and wiped at her eyes. “I don’t have to like it now, do I?”
“Mayhaps not. But you do have to accept it.”
With a simple nod of her head, Naomi tried to regain her composure. She took a deep breath and forced a slight smile. “At least I know that I’ll be standing at Miriam’s side for her wedding!” she said lightly.
Drusilla made a face, pretending to be offended. “Ach! Then Miriam should be the one closest to my side!”
The three women laughed, the somberness of the moment giving way to the familiar brightness that usually surrounded them when they were tog
ether. For Drusilla, it was a bittersweet moment for she knew that they would not have many more like it.
Chapter Eight
Drusilla walked down the staircase, following Caleb and the bishop. She paused when she saw the large gathering room filled with people. With the dividing wall that usually separated the master bedroom and large gathering room opened and all of the furniture moved out from the first floor, there was enough room to accommodate the four hundred people who traveled from near and far to attend the wedding of Drusilla Riehl and Caleb Lapp. The pine benches were set up in the room and the people seated upon them, the black, chunky Ausbund hymnal book clutched in their hands.
She didn’t recognize everyone. Almost all of Caleb’s family as well as the members of his g’may had travelled to the Riehl farm for the wedding. For most of the guests, the day started at four o’clock in the morning. Chores needed to be completed before they travelled to the Riehls’ farm. Some guests arrived as early as seven o’clock and the members of both the Riehl and Lapp families had been there to greet everyone.
Despite Caleb’s early arrival at the farm, Drusilla hadn’t a spare moment to speak privately with him. Guests wanted to shake her hand and congratulate her. She had been expected to stand with her family and could barely do more than glance at Caleb from time to time. Each time, he appeared calm and collected, his confidence more than apparent in the relaxed manner he greeted the guests.
Not Drusilla.
She hadn’t slept the previous night, her mind racing in a dozen different directions. With the exception of Naomi and Miriam, Drusilla had never shared a bed with anyone else. Yet, she knew that her wedding night would be spent in that very bed with Caleb. That thought made her more nervous than anything else.
And then the issue with the Ohio farm continued to be unaddressed. Every time Caleb mentioned it, Drusilla’s father asked him to just hold out on making a decision for another few days. But now, her wedding was in progress and, after this day, Caleb would not need to consult with Amos. Drusilla would do whatever her husband told her to do. If he wanted her to move to Ohio, she would have no choice.
Before she knew it, it was eight-thirty and the three hour wedding service had started.
As always, the service had opened with the congregation joining together in song, their voices lifting together after the vorsinger, a preselected man, began singing the first syllable of the hymn. He sang it in a long, drawn out singsong manner, the single syllable becoming almost a song in itself. Afterwards, the rest of those gathered joined in, each line of the hymn taking almost one minute to complete. The result was a peaceful a cappella, the voices rich in tone and the words filling the room with worship for the Lord.
After the completion of the first hymn, the bishop had beckoned to Caleb and Drusilla to follow him. In an upstairs bedroom, he would counsel them about the importance of marriage vows and God’s expectation. It was a lecture that Drusilla had barely understood for her nerves seemed to keep her mind racing through the same thoughts that had kept her awake the previous night. Once again, Caleb had seemed relaxed and attentive, actively listening to each word that the bishop spoke.
Now, as Drusilla and Caleb followed the bishop down the staircase and back into the room, she took a deep breath and looked around. With everyone seated on the benches and finishing a hymn, Drusilla thought it felt just like a regular church service. However, unlike regular worship services, the older women did not wear black dresses and the young unmarried women did not wear their black prayer kapps. And there were certainly more people in attendance.
My wedding day, she thought, fighting the feeling of butterflies in her stomach. Without making eye contact with anyone, she found her place among the unmarried women. It would be the last time that she would sit with them. After their vows were exchanged, she would sit with the married women closer to the front of the room. It would feel strange to sit among the women who already had children, instead of with Naomi and Miriam. And with Miriam getting married in another three weeks, Naomi would be sitting alone with the shrinking pool of unmarried women that were their friends.
Suddenly the room felt hot and stuffy to Drusilla. Despite her anxious nerves, she knew that the warmth was from so many people gathered in one place. Apparently others must have notice for, shortly after she sat down, two of the men seated at the back opened a few windows. Silently, Drusilla thanked them and took the opportunity to peer over the sea of heads seated in the room, trying to seek out Caleb. She knew that he would be in the back, seated with the unmarried men. But there were too many people crowded into the house for her to locate him.
She tried to listen as the bishop spoke to the congregation. But Drusilla could barely focus on the words of his sermon. She felt distracted as she waited for that moment after the second hymn when the bishop would call for Drusilla and Caleb, with their attendants, to come to the front of the room. Her stomach still felt queasy and her hands trembled, just enough so that Miriam, who sat beside her, reached out and clasped them in her own. And when the second hymn finished, Drusilla heard the very words that she had anticipated for weeks.
“I will now ask Drusilla Riehl and Caleb Lapp to step forward for their vows of matrimony,” the bishop said.
For a second, Drusilla did not move. A surreal feeling overcame her, almost as if she were watching everything from above. It wasn’t until Miriam squeezed her hand that Drusilla stood up and looked across the room, seeing Caleb for the first time that day. At first, she saw him staring at the bishop until, with a slight movement of his head, he met her gaze, the smallest hint of a smile on his lips and his blue eyes sparkling at her. She saw that same confidence that he always seemed to have, the confidence that he knew exactly what he was doing and why. It gave her the strength to step forward and walk to the front of the room.
Together, side by side, Drusilla and Caleb stood in front of family, friends, and church members, their attendants standing behind them, as they began the part of the service that would unite them in holy matrimony. Drusilla had attended many weddings in the past. October and November were always the busiest months for weddings. But this time, she was the bride and her life would change upon the completion of the declaration of their wedding vows. No longer would she sit among the unmarried women or wear a black prayer kapp for worship services. She would no longer answer to her father but to Caleb.
She glanced at him, wondering what he was thinking. Certainly he realized that he was now responsible for her well-being, both physically and spiritually. Yet, when she looked at him, she saw that he did not look fretful or nervous. As always, from the very first time she had met him —or, rather, spilled lemonade on him—he was completely in control of himself. She wondered, at that very first meeting, if he had known that she would be the one for him. Perhaps, she thought, deep down she had, too.
The bishop leveled his gaze at Caleb. His steely gray eyes and long, thin white beard framed his aged face as he began speaking the wedding vows. “Caleb Lapp, I ask you today if you confess, brother, that you wish to take this, our fellow sister, Drusilla Riehl, as your wedded wife, and not to part from her until death separates you? If you believe that this union is from the Lord? That faith and prayers alone have brought you to this moment?”
Clear and strong, Caleb affirmed his believe. “Ja, I do.”
Turning his attention to Drusilla, the bishop focused on her. “And Drusilla Riehl, I ask the same of you. Can you confess, sister, that you wish to take Caleb Lapp, our fellow-brother, as your wedded husband? That you shall not part from him until death separates you?” She nodded even though the bishop was not finished. “Do you also believe that this marriage is from the Lord? That your faith and prayers have brought you to this moment of matrimony?”
The room fell silent and everyone stared at her. She could feel their eyes on her back. She nodded her head again, but the bishop lifted an eyebrow, waiting.
Silence.
Caleb took a short breath and,
from the corner of his mouth, said in a low voice, “No one can hear you nod, Drusilla.”
A few people, who sat in the front, chuckled.
She felt the color rising to her cheeks and she whispered, “Ja.”
Satisfied and with a look of amusement on his face, the bishop continued. “Since you confessed that you wish to take Drusilla Riehl to be your wedded wife, do you promise to be faithful to her and care for her, even though she may suffer affliction, trouble, sickness, weakness, and despair, as is so common among us poor humans, in a manner that befits a Christian and God-fearing husband?”
Once again, Caleb enunciated his answer with full conviction: “Ja, I do.”
The bishop returned his gaze to Drusilla. “I ask the same of you, Drusilla Riehl. With your confession that you wish to take our fellow-brother to be your wedded husband, do you promise to be faithful to him and care for him, even though he may suffer affliction, trouble, sickness, weakness, despair, as is so common among us poor humans, in a manner that befits a Christian and God-fearing wife?” He paused, waiting for her to respond.
This time, she managed to say “Ja” without needing a prompt from Caleb.
The bishop took a step back and said, “Extend your hand to each other.”
Caleb waited for Drusilla to lift her hand. Her fingers trembled and he gently placed his hand on top of hers, the warmth of his skin comforting her.
The bishop covered their hands with his and said, “The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob be with you both and help your family come together and shed His blessing richly upon all of you. Now, go forward, Caleb and Drusilla Lapp. You are a married couple now. And as such, I remind you to fear God and keep His commandments and to remain true to each other.”