The Amish of Ephrata Collection: Contains Four Books: The Tomato Path, The Quilting Bee, The Hope Chest, and The Clothes Line

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The Amish of Ephrata Collection: Contains Four Books: The Tomato Path, The Quilting Bee, The Hope Chest, and The Clothes Line Page 13

by Sarah Price


  “Don’t be silly,”Jonas said as he and David leaned the mattress against the wall.“It’s not a bother.”

  “It sure looks like a bother,”she replied as she leaned against the doorframe.

  David scowled.“For anyone else, it would be a bother.”

  Jonas laughed.

  On Friday and Saturday, Priscilla spent the day baking bread and chopping vegetables for the salads that would be served. They made fresh butter and cup cheese, too, a favorite among the Amish. By Saturday night, they were both exhausted and looking forward to the following day, knowing that they wouldn’t have to host the Sunday service again until the following Spring.

  When she awoke on Sunday morning, it was five o’clock. She quickly dressed and pinned back her hair, careful to place her black prayer kapp, reserved for unmarried young Amish women, upon her head. Looking in the small mirror, she pinched her cheeks, hoping to get some color to her pale skin. She missed the summer months and having a healthy glow to her skin: One of the many downsides to winter, she thought.

  It was just slightly after eight o’clock when the first people began to arrive. Black capes and bonnets were set aside in the canning room and snowy shoes were stomped against the floor. Despite their caution, small puddles of melted snow quickly covered the floor. Jonas and David made certain to wipe up the water so that no one would slip.

  Priscilla stood tall, next to her mamm as the women greeted them with a handshake and a kiss. It was usually the older women who arrived first, either with their husbands or with a neighbor if they were widowed. Quite a few among them had been at the Smucker house the week before for the quilting and Priscilla found that she felt closer to these women than she ever had, before the quilting bee had started.

  The clock ticked closer to nine and the younger Amish women began to arrive with their children. Priscilla loved to see the children on Sundays. Most Amish mothers dressed their children in the same color dresses and shirts. That made it easier to identify which child belonged to which mamm.

  When the Esh family arrived, Stephen’s mammgreeted Priscilla with a warm smile.“I hear you have quite a quilt being made,”she whispered into Priscilla’s ear.“I intend to stop by next Saturday for some quilting as well, if that suits you.”

  Priscilla flushed, realizing that she had never really spoken to Stephen’s mamm before and, if he had it his way, she would one day be her mamm, too.“That suits just fine,”she said softly.

  As Stephen’s mammcontinued down the line, greeting the other women, Priscilla looked up and felt her heart sink into her chest. She hadn’t thought about the Byler family showing up but there, at the end of the line, was Susie and her mamm. For the past few Sundays, Priscilla had avoided greeting Susie. Now, as the host family, there was no getting around it. She would have to shake Susie Byler’s hand and greet her with a kiss.

  Judas’kiss, she thought bitterly. How could she possibly extend a hand in fellowship to this woman who continued to delight in causing so much trouble for her? She felt her pulse quicken and she reached out for her mamm’shand. Squeezing it, she leaned over and softly said,“Please don’t make me do this.”

  Mamm squeezed her hand back but said nothing in reply.

  Taking a deep breath, Priscilla glanced around the room and noticed that most eyes were turned in her direction. If she turned to leave, everyone would notice. She swallowed, feeling her throat constrict and her heart race even faster. The color drained from her face and she pressed her lips together, knowing that she had no choice. She straightened her back and took a deep breath as the Bylers approached.

  “Gut mariye,”she said as Susie’s mammstood before her. Priscilla leaned forward and kissed Susie’s mamm as she shook her hand. There was no response.

  Susie stood beside her own mamm, her eyes narrow and piercing as she waited to greet Priscilla. The room was silent. Priscilla lifted her chin and held out her hand toward Susie. But Susie merely glanced down at the outstretched hand then lifted up her eyes to stare into Priscilla’s face. With no further reaction, Susie turned on her heels and continued down the line, Priscilla’s hand left in the air.

  Priscilla felt her cheeks burn and she glanced at her mamm but Mamm was already greeting the next person. As Priscilla looked around the room, she noticed that everyone quickly averted their eyes, everyone except for the steely blue eyes of the bishop who stood in the doorway. He had witnessed the scene. His jaw was clenched tight and she thought she saw a flash of anger in his expression. But, just as quickly as she thought she saw it, it disappeared.

  She felt a tug on her arm. Glancing over, she saw her mamm gesture toward the gathering room. It was time to single file into the room. Since they were the host family, Priscilla would not enter with the other young, unmarried women but with her mamm. The elderly women would enter first, the oldest women in the district leading the line. The older women sat in more comfortable chairs while the rest of the women would sit on the hard benches. After the women sat, the men would enter. The married men would follow the elderly men. The last to enter were the unmarried men.

  Once everyone was situated, the men removed their hats and placed them under their seats. One man began to sing the first word of a hymn, his baritone voice deep and strong. It reverberated throughout the room before the rest of the congregants joined in, singing the rest of the line of the hymn in a long, drawn out manner. Each line of the hymn began the same way, with the lone baritone voice starting before everyone else joined in.

  Priscilla forgot about Susie Byler who was seated two rows behind her among the other unmarried women. Instead, Priscilla found herself lost in the song, listening to the words.

  Where shall I turn to, I, the least of the brethren?

  Alone to God my Lord,

  Who will be my helper.

  In all my needs,

  I trust in you, o God!

  You will not forsake me,

  And will stand by me until death.

  I have chosen for myself,

  My God, Your precious Word,

  Therefore have I lost

  The world’s favor in all areas.

  God’s favor I love more,

  Therefore I left the world.

  Take leave, wicked world,

  I’ll stay on Christ’s pathway. [7]

  When the singing was over, the congregation sat quietly, waiting for Bishop Zook and the ministers to enter. They were last to enter, having stayed behind to discuss who would preach the sermon. It was always decided at the last minute, left up to God to guide them as to what was to be shared among the people.

  As the ministers took their seats, the bishop remained standing. Clearly, he was the one that was selected to speak today but he took his time to begin. In the silence, he stood before the gathering, his hands behind his back as he paced back and forth. For a long time, longer than normal, he remained silent. People started to shift on the benches and a few of the younger people whispered to each other, wondering what was taking the bishop so long to begin.

  “There is an evil among us,”he began, his voice strong and clear. The congregation sat up straight and listened. It was unusual for the bishop to be so straight-forward with his sermon.“An evil, I tell you. And we must speak about this evil to combat it.”

  He leveled his eye at the many staring back at him. He gazed around the room.“’I trust in you, o God!’is the opening phrase of our first hymn today. How many of you trust in God?”He paused.“Or do you instead pretend to trust in God?”He turned and stared at the women.“The hymn continues with‘You have deceived me long enough and detrained me with your multitude.’And I say that there is enough deception among our people. A deception that has been distracting the community from God’s favor.”

  His eyes stopped and stared at Susie Byler.“I, too, have been deceived and found myself the‘servant of sin’. No more!”He raised his voice.“I repeat. No more!”

  He turned away and stared at the wall, his back to the people.�
��There has been too much gossip among the people. It must stop.”Whirling around, he raised his hand over his head.“I will hear no more about this nonsense of stealing quilt patterns,”the bishop said, his voice loud and sharp. His eyes rolled across the heads of those gathered in the room for worship.“Quilt patterns do not belong to a person. Not in this community,”he added.“It is a way for our women to express their creativity. Often these patterns are passed down through the generations. No one owns them.”His words were piercing and loud.“No one.”

  There was a soft murmuring among the fellowship and several people looked at Priscilla while others glanced at Susie who hung her head, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze. Priscilla didn’t have to turn around to know what was happening behind her. She could sense the flames of embarrassment that consumed Susie’s face. Beside her, she felt her mammgently nudge her leg. But she didn’t dare look at her.

  “We are one people. We place God above all others. Clinging to such worldly possessions is not our way. We share in the glory and share in the defeat,”he continued.“We. Are. One. People.”

  Priscilla kept her eyes on the bishop, feeling the heat of too many stares. She refused to look at the people. She knew that many of them were aware of what the bishop was saying and to whom he was speaking. She didn’t feel vindicated by his speech. Instead, she felt a deep sorrow for Susie Byler. She could not imagine how Susie felt, hearing the bishop’s public reprimand and knowing that the entire district was too aware that he was directing this sermon toward her.

  For a moment, Priscilla felt tears at the corners of her eyes. Despite the horrible days she had experienced because of Susie Byler, Priscilla felt a deep sorrow for the young woman. It didn’t need to be this way, she thought. If only Susie Byler hadn’t been so jealous and spiteful, so full of lies and malcontent, perhaps they could have been friends.

  “We are a community. A community focused on living a life that follows in the footsteps of our Savior. For someone to believe, we must remove ourselves from the temptation to speak ill of each other and to spread evil gossip about each other. We need each other and we need to support each other. That is what community is about, isn’t it?”The bishop stopped pacing.“I will ask all of you to reflect about your own behavior. What have you done to contribute to well-being in the community? What have you done to make God pleased with us?”

  There was silence among the congregation. The bishop stopped talking and stood there, his hands at his sides as he stared at the people. The silence continued. No one moved. It was a sobering moment. After all, the entire community had heard the words that were not just spoken to reprimand Susie Byler. Instead, they realized that everyone had permitted the gossip to continue throughout the past weeks. The reprimand was for everyone, those who had taken sides and those who had remained silent, permitting the split among the youth concerning the quilt to perpetuate.

  The rest of the service continued as planned. The bishop sat down, another hymn was sung, and then one of the ministers stood up to discuss a passage from the Bible. Priscilla tried not to look at the men that sat facing her on the other side of the room. She knew that Stephen Esh was there, probably watching her. She didn’t want to meet his gaze. After all, he had also heard the sermon and probably knew that the discussion was about Susie Byler’s gossip about the quilt and claims that Priscilla had stolen Stephen from her. She didn’t want to face the embarrassment of seeing his expression. Surely he was just as mortified as she was about being associated with such a public reprimand. She wondered if he felt that his reputation was tarnished and the thought made her stomach twist. Even if they were not the cause of the problem nor had they provoked the bullying and gossip, they were at the center of it. Perhaps there was more that they should have done to prevent it.

  After the end of service prayer, Priscilla hurried to help her mammin the kitchen. She knew that it would be a long two hours as she was expected to work straight through, washing dishes and cups between the seatings. She was glad for the work. She didn’t want to face the curious looks from the fellow worshippers. Nor did she want to bump into Susie Byler again.

  The last family left at one-thirty and Priscilla took a deep breath. She had managed to stay busy and avoid too much conversation with any of the women. She also had avoided Stephen Esh, too afraid that he was upset with her for having caused unwanted attention on his character. She knew that she hadn’t incited Susie but this was the second time that she had felt the wrath of Susie’s bullying. Polly’s words echoed in her ears from the quilting bee last week. Jealousy sure was an evil sin, she thought. Her only hope was that Susie would back off now that the bishop had spoken so publicly about her poor behavior.

  Chapter Twelve

  She looked up when she heard the knock at the door. Church had ended hours ago and, with the deteriorating weather, no one was expected at the house for supper so the three short raps on the window of the door surprised her.

  For the past hour, Priscilla had been sitting in the gathering room, her back to the kitchen as she stared at the window. The snow had been falling for a while, covering the fields in a heavy white blanket that looked so pure and heavenly. She had been staring at it, thinking that she wished she were a young girl and could go sleigh riding or make snow men in the field, anything to forget the horrible past few weeks.

  “Priscilla?”

  She raised her head and blinked as her eyes adjusted to the contrast of the brightness outside with the darkness in the house, for her mammhadn’t turned on the lamps yet.“Ja Mamm?”she answered.

  “I think you have a visitor,”Mamm said gently.

  Scrambling to her feet, Priscilla ran her hands over the front of her dress and made certain her prayer kappwasn’t crooked before she hurried into the kitchen. Her daedwas seated at the table, reading The Budget. There was a smile on his face but he didn’t look up when Priscilla entered.

  “Who’s here, Mamm?”

  Mamm gestured toward the utility room before turning back to the kitchen counter where she was preparing the food for the evening meal. She, too, had a soft smile on her face but said nothing.

  Curious, Priscilla hurried toward the utility room. Her bare feet padded on the cold floor. Despite it being cold, she hated wearing shoes and dreaded the thought of the long winter with stockings and clunky black shoes that was ahead of her. Yet, this thought vanished from her mind as she walked through the door and saw Stephen standing at the center of the utility room.

  “Stephen!”She started to smile then frowned. Was something wrong?“What are you doing here?”

  He laughed.“That’s some greeting, Priscilla!”

  She shook her head and apologized quickly.“I’m sorry. I just meant if all was all right.”After all, it was not very often that he had stopped by the house and always because of work related matters involving either her daed or her bruder. But that was the first time that he had asked to see her in person.

  “Ja, ja,”he said.“Was driving by and thought I’d poke my head in for a visit.”He paused, glancing over her shoulder at the doorway to the kitchen.“Heard there was a pretty quilt getting made at your house. Wanted to see it for myself, if that’s all right with you.”

  The color flooded to her cheeks.“You came to see the quilt?”she asked softly. After all of the trouble because of the quilt, she thought it would be the last thing anyone, especially Stephen, would want to see.

  He lowered his voice.“Well, maybe I also wanted to see my girl,”he added.

  She heard footsteps behind her and turned to see her daed in the doorway.“You going to invite your guest in or let him freeze in that utility room, Priscilla?”

  Flushing, Priscilla lowered her eyes and took a step backward, making room for Stephen to enter.“I’m sorry,”she whispered.

  “What for?”

  “Not inviting you in,”she replied, feeling embarrassed that she hadn’t thought to do so. She had been too stunned at seeing him standing there. Such a public arrival
on her family’s farm spoke volumes about his intentions.

  He laughed.“Don’t you worry about that, Priscilla. I wasn’t really that cold anyway,”he confessed in a soft voice as he brushed the snow from his shoulders.

  “Wilkum, Stephen,”Mamm said when he entered the kitchen. She smiled at him, her eyes twinkling.“Mayhaps you’ll be staying with us for supper then?”she asked.

  He glanced at Priscilla and raised an eyebrow.“Reckon that would be right gut,”he said.“I don’t have to be back for evening milking. My brothers are both home tonight.”

  “You wanted to see the quilt?”she asked shyly.

  He nodded and followed her through the kitchen toward the downstairs bedroom where the quilting frame had been set up.

  She lit a lantern so that the room was basked in the glow of the light. There were shadows dancing on the walls but it illuminated the quilt, the colors bright against the white background. The pattern was even more beautiful in the light from the lantern, the blues and the greens of the boxes and squares popping out with all of the tiny stitches making a secondary pattern. The quilting pattern contrasted beautifully against the pattern of the hand-sewn patches.

  As she stood there, staring at it, she sensed Stephen looking at it. She had never thought about asking him what he wanted in a quilt and quickly wondered if she should have conferred with him. But he put her at ease when he took a deep breath.

  “Ja, vell,”he said.“That sure is a beautiful pattern, Priscilla. I hope that it will grace a happy marriage bed one day.”

  “You like it?”she asked.

  “Oh ja!”His voice was emphatically appreciative of the beauty contained in the quilt.“It shows creativity and love, not just from you but from all of the community. I think you have done a wonderful job selecting a pattern that is unique and traditional.”He reached out and touched her hand, his fingers brushing her skin.

  “I’m so glad,”she whispered.

  “And I’m hoping that it will be cherished for years to come,”he added.“By both of us.”

 

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