After their initial hellos to Vernon, they settled in for the nearly two-hour drive, no one speaking much. Marlena felt tired from her restless night and the early rising. Angela Rose, however, was wide-awake and babbling in her soft, incoherent language. Marlena had remembered to tuck some small toys and rattles into the diaper bag Aunt Becky had so kindly brought. Wanting to look presentable for the funeral, she hoped her black dress and apron wouldn’t be too wrinkled by the time they pulled into the parking lot at the white clapboard meetinghouse. She recalled the first time she’d gone to church there with her parents. In all truth, she’d wanted to stay in bed and fake illness that morning, uncomfortable about leaving behind the Old Order church where she’d grown up, knowing she would miss the familiarity of the service and the flock of worshipers, most of whom were related to Marlena and her immediate family. And I was missing Nat, too . . . same as now.
Next to the van window, Mammi looked preoccupied, staring out at the Millers’ vast apple orchard. These were the same Amish folk who’d had a roadside vegetable stand ever since Marlena had started coming to visit with her parents. She and Luella had sometimes assisted with English tourists—Marlena more so than Luella—helping fun-loving Rosanna and her family.
As for Luella, she had struck up a friendship with an English girl farther down the road—Olive Hendrickson, one year older. “We’re better suited,” Luella had told Marlena, smelling of cigarette smoke. Thinking about it now, Marlena was fairly sure Dat and Mamma had known little of Olive and Luella’s summertime alliance, or the forbidden things Olive seemed too eager to introduce to an Amish girl on the church fence, if not hanging off the other side.
Yet surely Luella was much more than her shallow interests during Rumschpringe. Marlena wondered how her sister’s becoming a mother had affected her. Did she ever yearn for her Plain family . . . including me?
Marlena hoped so with all of her heart on this, Luella’s funeral day. She stared at the quilt-lined wicker basket on the floor of the van between herself and Mammi. She’d brought it along in case Angela got tired of being held during the trip. It had crossed her mind to take it to church yesterday, too, for in the car, but Mammi had said it wasn’t necessary. And as it turned out, Mammi was quite right.
Angela Rose represents a part of Luella, Marlena thought while holding Angela on her lap. Again she pondered yesterday’s sermon. After the noon meal with Mammi Janice, while Angela napped, she’d taken time to reread the minister’s text in the Psalms, even memorizing it.
She reached over to lightly touch Mammi’s arm. “What did Dawdi Tim think ’bout churches sendin’ out missionaries?” She recalled yesterday’s prayer following the sermon. More than a dozen teenagers had gone forward to receive the pastor’s blessing prior to leaving to help with vacation Bible school in Philadelphia and New York City churches.
“Why do you ask?” Mammi smiled a little. “Your parents’ church instructs young folk that way.”
Marlena nodded. A missionary focus was one of the hallmarks of the Beachy Amish-Mennonites, along with permitting electricity and holding Sunday school and home Bible studies. “My old church doesn’t evangelize at all,” she said.
Mammi folded her hands in her lap. “Well, I can tell you that we attempt to follow the Lord’s command to go into every corner of the world and share the Gospel.” Mammi turned back to the window, adding, “Your Dawdi was all for spreadin’ God’s love around.”
Marlena pondered her grandmother’s words. Why wouldn’t Nat, and everyone who believes in Christ, want to do the same?
She realized suddenly that she was questioning her old church’s traditional beliefs—something the Ordnung considered wrong. On this sorrowful day, Marlena did not have the emotional strength to wrestle with such serious thoughts. She must let them rest.
The day had warmed considerably by the time the van pulled into the lot for the meetinghouse. They had arrived earlier than Marlena expected, and she looked around for her parents’ horse and buggy, taking note of the carriages already parked at the hitching posts along the back end of the parking area.
“I don’t see them yet, do you?” she asked Mammi.
“We’ll just wait here.” Mammi looked over at Angela Rose, who was sucking her fist. “Our little one’s getting hungry.”
Marlena wondered where she and the baby might sit during the service. Certainly not up front with her parents and baptized family members, even though it was acceptable in this church to do so for a funeral. And she wouldn’t hand off Angela Rose to Mammi, either. That wouldn’t be fair. Not at all keen on funerals, she had already decided to take up her responsibility for her niece and see this day through. Like Mammi had said, Angela Rose was their little one, for now. My main responsibility.
A few minutes later, she saw the old familiar road horse, Dixie, and the white-top family carriage her father was still driving, evidently resisting the move toward cars that some members now arriving had already made. Marlena’s younger sisters, Katie and Rachel Ann, were sitting in the back of the buggy, facing out, and Amos and Yonnie were in the second bench seat, behind their parents. Like Marlena’s, her sisters’ Beachy head coverings were cup-shaped, with darts on each side. “Look, Mammi, the family’s here,” Marlena said softly. Seeing all of them now, so dear, compounded her sorrow, bringing it all back.
Her grandmother reached into her pocketbook and brought out a hankie. We’re going to need each other on this difficult day, Marlena thought, glad they’d arrived early enough to visit with family before going inside. She fought back a sick feeling of anxiety as she looked again at the meetinghouse that had become her parents’ church . . . and hers, for now. Till I can finally join Nat’s.
“I’m really dreadin’ this,” she whispered before she and Mammi gathered up the baby’s things to exit the van.
“My dear girl, I can’t imagine losin’ a sister at your age.” Mammi gave her a sad smile and reached for her hand. “I’ll keep you in my prayers all day long.”
She felt a surge of guilt. “I don’t mean to be selfish, Mammi.”
“Now, now—it’s normal to feel this way. I understand.”
She thanked her, aware that her parents were getting out of their carriage, followed by her sisters and, last, her gangly teenage brothers. “Let’s go and greet them,” Marlena said, reaching for the diaper bag and handing it to Mammi, who had gotten out of the van with some assistance from their driver. Marlena scooted across the seat and carefully stepped down with Angela Rose, glad for Vernon’s hovering.
The first thing she noticed about her mother was how very pale she looked. Was it the black clothing? Her sisters looked washed out, too, as they rushed to hug her without saying a word. Eight-year-old Rachel Ann clung to Marlena, then touched Angela Rose’s head, making over her. No one looks rosy in black, thought Marlena, realizing her grandmother also was noticeably pale.
“Can I hold Luella’s baby?” eleven-year-old Katie asked, moving in to kiss Angela’s cheek. “She’s so cute.”
Angela reached up and grabbed Katie’s white cap string, providing a bit of humorous relief for them all, including eighteen-year-old Amos, whose blue eyes looked bloodshot and swollen. Their other brother, Yonnie, just fourteen last month, stood back away from his sisters, flanking Amos with his arms folded, even though he eyed the baby curiously. Not as interested as my sisters, Marlena thought, sizing up her brothers. Yet Angela Rose is all we have left of Luella.
She relinquished the baby to Katie and slipped in next to her mother, refusing to cry, even though it was all she could do to keep from it. “How are ya holdin’ up, Mamma?”
Her mother looked away for a moment, her eyes red. “I never thought we’d be having a funeral for one of our children. Never thought Luella would pass away before your father and me.” She sighed softly. “Thought she had more time, ya know.”
“Jah, ’tis awful hard.” Marlena reached around her mother’s shoulders.
“But God is sove
reign, and we’ll cling to His will today and for always.” Mamma’s words were resolute, but her chin quivered.
More buggies and a few cars were pulling into the lot. And, talking with Mamma, Marlena realized how very much she missed her family, even though she hadn’t been in Brownstown long. Time had shifted with Luella’s passing, changing everything.
Katie was touching Angela’s cheek and whispering to her, but Mamma kept looking over at them and finally said she simply had to get her hands on her grandbaby. Stepping near, she took Angela Rose from Katie and kissed her little head. Marlena struggled with tears as she observed the dear way Mamma cuddled Angela Rose.
“How long will ya stay afterward?” Mamma turned to ask Mammi Janice. “My sisters-in-law and other womenfolk have prepared a big meal to serve in the church basement for the extended family. I hope you’ll stay around for it after the burial.”
Her grandmother looked Marlena’s way and nodded. “We’ll let our driver know.” Mammi glanced over her shoulder, and Marlena knew she wanted her to be the one to tell Vernon, who was still sitting in the van, fanning himself.
Marlena motioned for her brother Amos to go with her. “Mamma hopes we’ll stay for the funeral dinner,” she said, making small talk.
“Jah, a gut idea,” he said quietly. “I think she wants to talk to you ’bout something.”
“Oh?”
Amos shook his head and smiled faintly. “Don’t ask me what. Might be something ’bout Gordon’s parents. I hear his aunt has been in touch with Mamma.”
“All right.” She reached the van with Amos and politely told Vernon when to return.
“Yous just take your time, won’t ya?” Vernon nodded as he spoke. “A daughter shouldn’t die before her parents, that’s for sure. Just be a comfort to each other and lean on the dear Lord. He’ll get ya through.”
Marlena thanked Vernon and assumed he might drive somewhere and settle into a restaurant with air conditioning, perhaps, and have something to eat. It was just too hot to sit out here, even under the row of shade trees along the north side of the parking lot. “We’ll see you later. Denki ever so much!”
He smiled and turned the key in the ignition, then slowly backed out and headed toward the main road.
Walking back to her family, Marlena couldn’t keep her eyes off Angela Rose in Mamma’s loving arms. She could tell by the way her mother held her that she really cared for Luella’s baby. We all do, she thought, refusing to think about whatever her parents wanted to discuss later. If it was about Gordon’s family swooping in and taking Angela Rose away until Gordon returned from the war, well, such a thing was too painful to consider on Luella’s burial day.
Chapter 20
Gordon’s aunt Patricia just arrived,” Mamma whispered when she found Marlena in the ladies’ room changing Angela Rose. “Your father wants me to invite her to sit with the family up front. I agree that it’s the polite thing to do.”
Marlena’s heart skipped a beat. “So she’s come to represent Gordon and his family.”
Mamma leaned near, her breath on Marlena’s ear. “Your grandmother and I wonder if she’s come for Angela Rose, perhaps. She has a most determined look on her face.”
Marlena’s hands shook as she fastened a pin in the diaper. “But Angela’s happy with Mammi Janice and me. And—”
“No need to panic, dear, but we must remember things are likely to change once Gordon’s parents are home again. And at some point, Gordon will make clear who should have temporary custody. He may be allowed to come home a short while, but surely he’ll have to return to the service.”
Marlena reached down for her niece and drew her close. “I don’t think I should sit up front with you and the family, Mamma.”
“Well, why not, honey?”
“I need to be with Angela Rose,” she said firmly. “We’ll sit in the back so she’s not a distraction, ya know.”
Mamma patted her hand. “Considering everything, I think you may be right, Marlena. Jah, this is wise.”
Considering everything . . . Marlena suspected she was referring to Patricia Munroe. “I’ll just slip into the back row, all right?”
“And I’ll make sure my mother knows where you and the baby are.” Mamma paused to caress Angela’s cheek, then left to find Mammi Janice.
I simply mustn’t fret, Marlena reminded herself.
While Boston snoozed on the back porch, it took Small Jay nearly an hour to pick up the hundreds of paper snippets inside the outhouse and all around it. He caught himself muttering repeatedly, furious at Shredder, who must have been smart enough to hide himself away. “That cat’s prob’ly burrowed in the hayloft,” Small Jay whispered. “Gut thing he’s got nine lives.”
Small Jay dumped the snibbles down the outhouse hole and remembered something Danny Glick, his former classmate and tormentor, had once bragged about. Small Jay wasn’t sure he even believed the tale, but every time he visited an outhouse, Danny’s story came to mind—how he’d gotten so zannich with his older sister that he’d dropped her best sewing scissors down the hole. “Now, that’s mighty angry,” Small Jay told himself.
He stared at the shelf Dat had recently built to hold the toilet paper. That was after the last time Shredder caused such havoc, though not nearly as bad as now. “Dat’ll have to build one even higher, but then no one will be able to reach it.” He left the outhouse, closing the door soundly. “Now, where’s that wicked tomcat?”
Frustrated, Small Jay took the time to search the stable area of the barn, as well as the haymow. While there, he noticed Boston’s satchel, a little gray kitten’s head peering out of the top.
“What on earth?” He shooed the kitty away and then sat down on the black blanket with pieces of straw stuck to it—a one-sided straw tick. Was the Lord God above pleased with this barebones bed in a stable for the poor lost man?
Would Dat wanna sleep out here with the bugs and the animals and barn swallow droppings? Small Jay mused. Just then he spotted a set of pitch-black ears peeking out from behind a bale of hay. “And with Shredder, too!”
Wishing he could move more quickly, Small Jay rose with difficulty but soon gave up the chase before he could catch the troublesome cat. “You’ll be a goner yet, if Dat catches ya!” he hollered.
He returned to the straw pallet and reached for the bag that seemed to hold all of the lost man’s most treasured possessions.
“This oughta hang on a peg somewhere.” He was muttering again, carrying the bag over his shoulder and looking around for an ideal spot. Then, thinking he might just pound a nail into a nearby post, Small Jay set the bag on top of the stack of watering buckets and went to find a hammer and a nail.
Marlena was thankful she hadn’t sat in the front row of the Beachy meetinghouse. It seemed more likely she might contain her emotions sitting close to the door leading to the vestibule.
She listened as the dark-haired middle-aged preacher, Brother Simon Ranck, began his sermon. “ ‘For the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal,’ ” he said in English. She still hadn’t gotten over the fact that Brother Ranck spoke in English rather than the German of the Old Order Amish service. Her eyes scanned the rows until they settled on the stately figure of Patricia Munroe, where she sat next to Marlena’s family—something else that would never be allowed in a more traditional Amish gathering, even at a funeral.
Marlena wiped her eyes with her hankie, glad she was surrounded by three hundred people, as best she could estimate. Dat and Mamma’s relatives and friends all came to support them. . . .
“If you died tonight, where would you go?” Simon Ranck’s words jolted her back to attention. Like her father and all the other men present, Brother Ranck wore his best black frock coat and black vest. “Are you ready to meet your Maker?” Then, with considerably more conviction, he declared, “As we read in Joshua 24:15, ‘Choose you this day whom ye will serve.’ I urge you not to wait a single day longer. If you’re o
n the fence and ready to jump it, think about eternity. Where do you want to spend it, my friend? I ask you.”
Oh, such a worry, to think her sister’s soul might be lost. How did Brother Ranck know what to say at such a depressing time? Marlena’s father had pleaded with the pastor to hold this service; otherwise, the only option would have been the nearby funeral home. Since Dat and Mamma were no longer members of the house-church Amish, they couldn’t have the service at home.
“The Lord Jesus Christ is the only One who knows Luella Wenger Munroe’s standing with God,” Simon Ranck said now, his expression gentle yet serious. “He alone will be her judge on that Day of days.” He paused to take a visibly deep breath. “May this reminder of eternity cause all of us to turn to the Lord and repent of our sins before the clock of our lives ceases its tolling.” He bowed his head, and Marlena thought he might be weeping.
She simply could not bear this a minute longer. When Angela Rose started to murmur, pushing the bottle away at this most reverent moment, Marlena was grateful. Quickly, silently, she reached for the diaper bag, put the bottle away, and slipped out of her seat to make her way outside and around the side of the church.
A monarch butterfly landed on a nearby honeysuckle vine, and Marlena moved toward it, hoping Angela might see its beauty up close. “Lookee there,” she managed to say. Then, unable to regain her composure, she began to cry. Brother Ranck must surely think Luella’s soul is lost.
Her throat felt like it might close up, yet somehow, she found the breath to speak. “Oh, dear Lord in heaven . . . please may this not be true. Please . . .” The words were the first prayer of her own that she’d ever dared to speak aloud to the Lord God. Angela Rose chortled as the butterfly flitted to yet another blooming bush, and Marlena followed it. In so doing, she happened to notice an open buggy turning into the far end of the parking lot. Not thinking anything of it, she was startled when the driver pulled right up to where she stood with Angela Rose.
The Love Letters Page 14