by Marta Perry
She smiled, looking at him. “November is not so far off,” she said. “If Bishop Mose thinks I’m ready to be baptized into the church, we can be married then. I have a feeling I would like to follow tradition in that.”
“Anna Beiler, following tradition,” Samuel said. “Think of that. Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” She lifted her face for his kiss. “The prodigal is home to stay.”
EPILOGUE
Anna took the black prayer kapp from her head and set it carefully on top of the bureau. She picked up the white one that sat waiting and placed it on her head.
The act seemed almost as solemn as the vows she and Samuel had taken moments earlier before Bishop Mose and the gathered community. She and Samuel were husband and wife. In a moment she’d meet him to go back downstairs to take part in the wedding meal—their first appearance together as a married couple.
“Anna, do you need any help?” Leah paused in the bedroom doorway, smiling at her. “You are a bride, little sister. I am so happy to see this day.”
“Denke.” Anna blinked back the tears that sprang to her eyes. “I wish Mammi—”
Leah came quickly to hug her. “I know she would be very happy. She always liked Samuel so much.”
“She did, didn’t she?” Even when Samuel had been just Joseph’s friend, Mammi seemed to have a soft spot in her heart for him. Now he was her daughter’s husband. Leah was right; Mammi would be pleased.
“The food is ready to start serving.” Myra came in, her eyes growing moist as she looked at Anna. “But first I had to come and see my sister.”
“Twice your sister,” Anna said, her heart filling with love.
Myra was rounder now, though it didn’t show so much when she wore the cape, as she did today in honor of the occasion. She and Joseph had moved past the difficult adjustment they’d had to make into a state of serenity about the baby. The shadows were gone from Myra’s eyes, and she seemed to look ahead with joy.
“Your friend from the city didn’t know what to think of the wedding.” Myra’s eyes twinkled. “She asked if you were forbidden to wear a bridal gown because of the baby. I told her this is your bridal gown, but I don’t think she understood.”
Anna smoothed her hand down the skirt of the deep blue dress she wore, made by her own hands with a little help from Myra. And the white apron, which would be kept to be put on over her dress when she was buried. She wouldn’t tell Liz that—it would be too much culture shock.
“No, Liz wouldn’t understand, but I think she is happy for me.” Liz had gotten over her initial surprise at learning Anna was Amish. She’d probably been a little hurt, too, that Anna had kept that from her, but she seemed to understand. And she had traveled all the way from Chicago to sit on a backless bench in a barn for three hours to see her friend married.
“Rosemary has taken her in hand,” Leah said. “She’ll explain it all.”
Anna nodded. Rosemary had proved to be a staunch friend to the Amish. She’d begun volunteering at the medical clinic, filling her days with work that was valuable to the whole community.
“I have gut friends and family. I owe you all so much . . .” She couldn’t find the words.
“Ach, enough,” Leah said. “There’s no talk of owing among family.”
“Besides, your groom is here, waiting to take you downstairs.” Myra gave her a little shove toward the bedroom door.
There in the hallway, Samuel stood waiting, holding Gracie in his arms. He’d been solemn for the ceremony, but now his lips curved with pleasure at the sight of her.
She went to him quickly. “I thought Elizabeth was watching the little ones.”
“Ach, how could our Gracie not sit with us at the eck table for our wedding?” Samuel cuddled her close. “She is our daughter, so she must share the joy of this day.”
“Until she starts to fuss at being still for so long,” Anna said, but her heart was touched by his gesture.
No, not a gesture. Samuel really did feel that way. He had been willing to lay down his life for Gracie. No one could love more than that.
She reached toward him, and Samuel drew her immediately into the loving circle of his arm for a warm, strong hug.
“So,” he said, dropping a kiss lightly on her lips, “are you ready to go downstairs and greet our friends as husband and wife, Anna Fisher?”
“I am.” She said the words like a vow. She linked her arm with Samuel’s, and they started down the stairs toward the waiting crowd.
Below, she saw the happy faces of those who waited for them—the dear, familiar faces of all who loved and supported them. Her family, her church, her friends. They would stand by this new family through all the years ahead, God willing, and she would be forever grateful that God had brought her home.
GLOSSARY OF PENNSYLVANIA DUTCH WORDS AND PHRASES
ach. oh; used as an exclamation
agasinish. stubborn; self-willed ain’t so. A phrase commonly used at the end of a sentence to invite agreement.
alter. old man
anymore. Used as a substitute for “nowadays.”
Ausbund. Amish hymnal. Used in the worship services, it contains traditional hymns, words only, to be sung without accompaniment. Many of the hymns date from the sixteenth century.
befuddled. mixed up
blabbermaul. talkative one
blaid. bashful
boppli. baby
bruder. brother
bu. boy
buwe. boys
daadi. daddy Da Herr sei mit du. The Lord be with you.
denke. thanks (or danki)
Englischer. one who is not Plain
ferhoodled. upset; distracted
ferleicht. perhaps
frau. wife
fress. eat
gross. big
grossdaadi. grandfather grossdaadi haus. An addition to the farmhouse, built for the grandparents to live in once they’ve “retired” from actively running the farm.
grossmutter. grandmother
gut. good
hatt. hard; difficult
haus. house
hinnersich. backward
ich. I
ja. yes kapp. Prayer covering, worn in obedience to the Biblical injunction that women should pray with their heads covered. Kapps are made of Swiss organdy and are white. (In some Amish communities, unmarried girls thirteen and older wear black kapps during worship service.) kinder. kids (or kinner)
komm. come
komm schnell. come quick
Leit. the people; the Amish
lippy. sassy
maidal. old maid; spinster
mamm. mother meddaagesse. lunch
mind. remember
onkel. uncle Ordnung. The agreed-upon rules by which the Amish community lives. When new practices become an issue, they are discussed at length among the leadership. The decision for or against innovation is generally made on the basis of maintaining the home and family as separate from the world. For instance, a telephone might be necessary in a shop in order to conduct business but would be banned from the home because it would intrude on family time.
Pennsylvania Dutch. The language is actually German in origin and is primarily a spoken language. Most Amish write in English, which results in many variations in spelling when the dialect is put into writing! The language probably originated in the south of Germany but is common also among the Swiss Mennonite and French Huguenot immigrants to Pennsylvania. The language was brought to America prior to the Revolution and is still in use today. High German is used for Scripture and church documents, while English is the language of commerce.
rumspringa. Running-around time. The late teen years when Amish youth taste some aspects of the outside world before deciding to be baptized into the church.
schnickelfritz. mischievous child
ser gut. very good
tastes like more. delicious
Was ist letz? What’s the matter?
Wie bist du heit. how are you
; said in greeting
wilkom. welcome
Wo bist du? Where are you?
RECIPES
Chicken Potpie
For noodles: Mix together 1 tablespoon butter,½ teaspoon salt, and 2 cups flour. Add 2 beaten eggs and 2 tablespoons milk. Mix together until a firm dough forms, then turn onto a floured board and roll out in a thin layer. Let stand for 30 minutes. Cut into 2-inch squares.
2 potatoes
2 onions, sliced thin
3 cups cooked chicken, cut into bite-sized pieces
2 cups hot chicken stock
salt
pepper
parsley, chopped
Slice potatoes ¼-inch thick. Line the bottom of a heavy kettle with potato slices. Add a layer of noodles, then a layer of onions, and sprinkle with salt, pepper, and parsley. Add a layer of chicken. Repeat all layers, including potatoes, using up all the ingredients. Pour boiling chicken stock over all. Cover tightly and simmer on the stove top for 20 to 30 minutes, until potatoes are tender.
Funnel Cakes
3 eggs
2 cups milk
¾ cup sugar
3-4 cups flour
½ teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons baking powder
vegetable oil
confectioners’ sugar
Beat eggs in a small mixing bowl, then add milk and sugar. In a separate large bowl, sift together half the flour with the salt and baking powder. Add the milk and egg mixture. Beat batter until it is smooth. Add only as much more flour as is needed to make a batter just thin enough to run through a funnel. To a large, heavy skillet add vegetable oil until it is two inches deep. Heat oil until hot. Drop dough through the funnel into hot oil, twisting the funnel as the batter falls to make swirled shapes, each one seven to eight inches round. Cook until the bottom is light brown, then turn and cook the other side until it is also light brown. Remove with a slotted spoon and drain on paper or linen towels. While still warm but not hot, dust with confectioners’ sugar.
End-of-the-Garden Relish
12 large green peppers
12 sweet red peppers
12 large onions
1 small head cauliflower
1 stalk celery
3 cups sugar
3 tablespoons salt
2 tablespoons mustard seed
1 quart apple cider vinegar
Substitute cucumbers or other types of peppers as desired. Core and remove seeds from peppers. Remove ends and outside layers from onions and the ends from the celery. Remove stem and any leaves from cauliflower. Chop the vegetables to a fine dice and combine them in a large stockpot. Add the sugar, salt, mustard seed, and apple cider vinegar (white vinegar can also be used). Cook over high heat for about 15 minutes. While still boiling, ladle into hot, sterilized canning jars and cap.
Dear Reader, I’m so glad you decided to pick up this book, and I hope you enjoyed it. I appreciated having the opportunity to tell the story of Anna and her growth since she was first introduced in Leah’s Choice, and also to visit Pleasant Valley again.
I would love to hear your thoughts about my book. If you’d care to write to me, I’d be happy to reply with a signed bookmark or bookplate and my brochure of Pennsylvania Dutch recipes. You can find me on the Web at www.martaperry.com, e-mail me at marta@martaperry .com, or write to me in care of Berkley Publicity Department, Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, NY 10014.
Blessings,
Marta Perry
An Excerpt from
LEAH’S CHOICE
Pleasant Valley
BOOK ONE
by Marta Perry
Available now
from Berkley Books
Knowing your proper place was a basic tenet of Amish life. Leah Beiler smiled as she watched her class of thirty-five scholars living out that belief. The number was up by three with the addition of the Glick children just today, and they were all in their assigned seats. Thirty-five heads bent over the work she’d set for her first-to eighth-graders, and not a whisper disturbed the stillness of the one-room school.
Despite the quiet, ten years of teaching had given Leah an extra sense where her scholars were concerned. Excitement rippled through the room, even though no head lifted for a furtive look at the battery clock on her desk. The prospect of a picnic lunch to welcome the newcomers had everyone, including, she had to admit, the teacher, excited. It would be a welcome break in the usual routine, with the Christmas program now in the distant past and their end-of-school-year events not yet begun.
The April weather had cooperated today, bathing Pleasant Valley, Pennsylvania, in sunshine rather than showers. Through the window, she could see the horses and buggies lined up outside that told her the scholars’ mothers had arrived with food for the picnic.
She clapped her hands, amused at the alacrity with which pencils were put down. “It’s time for our picnic lunch now, scholars. We’ll eat first, and then there will be time to play. You may go outside.”
It wasn’t necessary to add that they should go in an orderly manner. Order was another precept of Amish life, ingrained since birth. Pencils were in their grooves on the desktops and books were closed before the children stood, murmuring quietly among themselves, and filed toward the door.
Leah followed her scholars between the rows of wood and wrought-iron desks, and out the door at the rear of the classroom that led onto a small porch and then to the schoolyard.
The white school building, looking like every other Amish school she’d ever seen, stood in a grove of trees, its narrow dirt lane leading out to the main road, a good half mile away. The Esch farm lay to their east and the Brand farm to the west, so that the schoolhouse seemed to nestle in their protective, encircling arms.
A trestle table had been set up under the oak tree that sheltered the yard. Her volunteer mothers and grandmothers, probably also happy with the break in routine, had spread it with a bountiful lunch—sandwich fixings of cheese, chicken, cold meat and bread, an array of salads, bowls of fruit, and jars of milk and lemonade. Trays of cupcakes and brownies were covered, reminding the children that dessert came last.
Rachel Brand, Leah’s special friend since girlhood, hurried over, apron fluttering, to thrust a well-filled plate into her hands. “Leah, I fixed a plate for you already, ja. If you waited for everyone else to be served, you might miss my macaroni salad.”
“Never,” she said, her pleasure at the day’s treat increased by the presence of the friend who was as dear to her as a sister. “It’s wonderful kind of you, Rachel, but we should be seeing to our guest of honor first.”
Daniel Glick, the newcomer, stood out in the group, the only adult male in a bevy of women and children. If that bothered him, he didn’t show it. He was accepting a heaping plate from Leah’s mother, bending over her with courteous attention.
“Your mamm is taking good care of him,” Rachel said. “And if she wasn’t, someone else would jump at the chance, for sure. A widower just come from Lancaster to join our community—you know every woman in Pleasant Valley will be thinking to match him up with a daughter or sister, they will.”
“They’d do better not to matchmake. Daniel Glick looks well able to decide for himself if he needs a wife.”
Daniel’s firm jaw and the determined set to his broad shoulders under the plain work shirt he wore suggested a man who knew what he wanted and who wouldn’t be easily deflected from his course. He was probably a gut hand at avoiding any unwanted matchmaking.
Rachel, her blue eyes dancing with mischief as if they were ten again, nudged her. “You’d best tell that to your mamm, then. I expect she’s already inviting him to supper so he can get to know you.”
“Me?” Her voice squeaked a bit, so she was glad that she and Rachel stood a little apart from the others. “Rachel, that’s foolish. Everyone has known for years that I’m a maidal.”
“Years,” Rachel scoffed, her rosy cheeks growing rounder with amusement.
Rachel
did still look like the girl she’d once been, her kapp strings flying as they’d chased each other in a game in this same schoolyard. Leah couldn’t remember a time when Rachel hadn’t been part of her life. They’d shared enough joy and sorrow to bond them forever.
“I know very well how old you are, Leah Beiler,” Rachel continued, “because we were born within a month of each other. And you are only an old maid if you want to be.”
Leah crinkled her nose. “A maidal,” she said firmly. “And I’m a schoolteacher with a love of learning besides, which frightens men off.”
Rachel’s smile slid away suddenly, and her smooth brow furrowed. “Leah, it would break my heart if I thought you meant to stay single all your life because of Johnny.”
The name startled her, and it was all she could do to keep dismay from showing on her face. When Johnny Kile left Pleasant Valley, fence-jumping to the English world like too many young men, he’d left behind his family, including his twin sister, Rachel, who’d loved him dearly.
And he’d left Leah, the girl he’d said he’d loved. The girl he’d planned to marry that November, once the harvest season was over.
Many of those young men who left came back, penitent and ready to rejoin the community, after a brief time in the English world. But not Johnny.
She had to speak, or Rachel would think this more serious than it was. Close as they were, she didn’t want Rachel to know how Johnny’s loss had grieved her. It would only hurt Rachel, to no good end.
“No, of course that’s not why. Johnny and I were no more than boy-and-girl sweethearts, you know that.”
Rachel’s hand closed over hers in a brief, warm grip. “You loved him. That’s what I know.”
“It was a long time ago,” she said firmly, shutting away bittersweet memories.
An Excerpt from
RACHEL’S GARDEN
Pleasant Valley