It was decided that Hannah and Eleanor would not return home for at least two weeks. In that time span, Hannah and Abram worked hard with their Peer Council helpers, learning more about domestic violence and the cycle of violence. Hannah was especially interested in this, wanting to be able to understand how Abram’s moods went from calm to dark and angry as tension built inside him. Abram continued to work on learning and understanding more about why his uncle’s preference for using violence to control his family was so wrong.
“Abram, beyond the Ordnung, we believe that Gott never wanted us to control others through the use of our fists or words.” Eli leaned forward, praying that he was making an impact on Abram’s mistaken thinking and beliefs.
Abram leaned back, feeling frustrated. “Eli, why do I have such a hard time understanding this in the middle of a discussion with Hannah?”
Eli nodded. He had something on which to grab now. “Abram, would you be open to speaking to someone who is qualified to work with someone in your position? Someone who can help you figure out why things get so mixed up for you?”
“What are you thinking of?” Abram was cautious, realizing that his decision could either make or break his future with Hannah.
“A qualified counselor. Someone who knows how the human mind works.”
“Wait, Eli, are you suggesting that I need therapy? That I’m crazy?” Abram’s frustration boiled over, betraying itself in a bunched-up neck and a growl in his voice.
In response, Deacon King and Bishop Kurtz both bounded over, sitting down in front of Abram.
“Nee, Abram, he’s not suggesting that. He is saying that we, as Plain Amishmen, don’t have the training or education we need to help you get past this block in your mind. If a counselor, a true counselor, works with you, they will be able to help you figure out why this happens.” The bishop’s voice was stern, but his eyes were kind.
“Abram, we all see that you are working so hard on this, but you keep coming up against this one roadblock. You are as sane as any one of us here. You’re just stuck on something that had a major effect on you in your most impressionable years.”
Sitting back down, Abram closed his eyes, leaned his head back and took several deep breaths as he made himself calm down. “I’m sorry for that. I didn’t mean to snap at you, Eli.”
“Nee. I know you didn’t. But you gave me a little more to work with. You do have a quick temper. Now, I want you to think carefully. Did your temper begin erupting more after you saw your uncle abusing your aunt? Or has it always been quick to blow up?”
Abram flushed and smiled faintly. “After I saw him blowing up at her and my female cousins. I’m tall, but I’m not as big as some Englisch men are, so it’s a way I have of controlling situations...”
“That you believe might get out of control, right?” Eli was tracking Abram’s thoughts closely.
“Ya. I think I’ve come to rely on it too much.”
Eli nodded quickly. “I agree. I am going to give you the name and phone number of the Amish-Mennonite counseling center. It’s a little ways away, but if you explain your situation, one of the counselors may agree to meet you here, in your home.”
“A counselor would meet me, in our home? You mean I wouldn’t have to go stay nights there?” He began to relax tightened back muscles slightly.
“Nee. The inpatient area is only for those men and women who have a true need for 24-hour supervision and services.”
“Like Wayne Lapp...”
“Exactly. Here you go. I want you to call them today. The sooner you get started, the faster Hannah and Eleanor can come home.”
“Ya, I will. Denki.” Abram accepted the phone number and decided to call that day. “So, when can I have them come home?”
The bishop spoke. “We decided it would be best if they stayed with Hannah’s parents for two weeks. We want you to feel the loss so that you know what a permanent loss would feel like. Also, you still have some work and learning to do, even though you are making wunderbaar progress now.”
Abram sighed, feeling the aforementioned loss deeply. “Bishop, I miss them terribly. Hannah’s smile... When she sings hymns to the baby... Eleanor’s coos and even her crying in the night.”
“Use that feeling to help you make progress in your work with us. We want her to be able to come home, as well. But we are concerned about their safety. And that’s another thing.” Eli stood and began walking around Abram’s kitchen. “I am going to call a member of the peer council because I want them to come see you daily.”
“Why?”
“To determine your state of mind. If they see that you are calm, then everything stays as it should. If they see that you are tense or argumentative, then they will let me or one of the elders know and we’ll stop in as well. We don’t want to see you banned or to lose your family. So, what I’m thinking is that if they stop in at some point during the day, they may be able to help you look at what’s causing you to be angry, especially if it’s toward Hannah.”
After the elders and Eli left, Abram sat in his kitchen, just thinking. He wasn’t too positive that he liked the idea of people coming around every day. Then, he realized he would like even less losing Hannah and the baby for good. I should just learn to work with all of this help that’s being offered to me. Would an Englisch man have the same support?
Remembering his promise to call the counseling center, he jogged out to the phone house and made his call. “Ya, I was told by Eli Yoder to give you a call...” He explained his situation. “Nee, I have no mental illness. I’m just having a hard time getting past the belief that it’s okay to use anger and my fists when my wife and I have a disagreement.” After a few minutes, he received an appointment. As Eli had suggested, the center was able to send a counselor to visit him in his home, for which he was grateful. At least, I can set aside that hour or so of time once a week. If I had been told to go to their center for weekly meetings, I would have lost at least three hours once a week.
THE NEXT WEEK, ABRAM met his new counselor at home. “Come in. Would you like some coffee?” Martha was still in the house, taking care of the housework that had piled up in Hannah’s absence.
“Ya, denki, I would. My name is Joshua Howard, and I’ll be your counselor. Mrs. Beiler, how are you?” he asked after Martha. Joshua was a Mennonite, so he was able to drive a car without violating the Amish Ordnung. He sat in the kitchen and pulled several forms out of a binder.
After the meeting was over, Joshua returned to his office. He felt cautiously hopeful but knew that Abram still had a long way to go. This guy does have a temper. I saw flashes of it when I was asking him about his childhood and home life. That his mamm had to intervene to make him calm down...that’s not gut. In the office, Joshua reported to his supervisor. “I’m cautiously optimistic. But he does have to learn to control that temper.”
“What are your recommendations regarding his wife? And there’s a baby, ya?”
“Ya, there is. An infant girl. She’s also with her mamm until the family gets clearance to reunite.”
“And his mental health?”
“Wunderbaar. Very good. He’s just struggling with the differing beliefs, between not being violent and acting out with his fists. I plan to work with him using Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and role-play exercises.”
“Excellent.”
AT HOME, ABRAM LEANED his head into his hands. “Mamm, why did I get so angry while Joshua was here?”
“Habit. He was asking questions you were reluctant to answer. Although, why you are, I don’t know.”
That stopped Abram’s thoughts. “I don’t either. I mean, I want to get past whatever is making me act this way. At the same time, I feel as if people are intruding on me.”
Martha sighed as she sat. “Son, you’re just going to have to deal with that. If you want Hannah and your baby to come home, it’s a part of the work you’re doing. Put it this way... Do you like having to bend over every day and get a sore back as you
shoe all those horses?”
“Nee. But it’s how we do things.”
“And there you go. It’s a part of what you have to do so that the environment here is full of love, not tension and fear of an outburst that could hurt Hannah or Eleanor.”
Abram was silent, just thinking. He looked outside, feeling the calm serenity of the scene outside his kitchen window. Spring was approaching, and the snow was finally almost gone. The branches of the trees outside swayed gently in the breeze, and Abram could see the tiny buds of the leaves pushing out on the trees’ branches. He sighed. “Ya, Mamm, I know. I just feel like it should be our business, not anyone else’s.”
“It became public knowledge for a reason, Abram. You made Hannah go to service that day. And, I’m grateful to Gott that you did. Or we wouldn’t have seen that things had escalated here. Remember Wayne and Lizzie?”
“Ya.” Abram easily followed his mamm’s train of thought. He knew why she was grateful. She didn’t want to mourn a dead daughter-in-law or granddaughter.
“His wife tried to hide it and it went on for so much longer. We were forced to intervene because he thought he had the right to treat ‘his property’ that way.”
“’Property?’ He thought his wife was property?” Abram’s voice went high.
“Ya. He did. So, he felt no remorse. He refused to repent. That’s the difference I see between you and him. You love Hannah and you don’t want to hurt her.”
Abram nodded vehemently. “Nee, I don’t, Mamm! So, if the peer counselors come by every day, what do I do?”
“Allow them into your house and into your mind, son.”
AFTER WORKING WITH his new Mennonite counselor for three weeks, Abram got the good news that Hannah and Eleanor could come home. He set out on his day’s appointments with a light heart. Looking at the empty spot in his appointment book, he was grateful to Deacon King for telling him to drop Ben Hershberger as a customer. “Every time I came home from your barn, I was twisted up in knots. I pray that I will be able to handle my emotions from here on out.” Abram’s voice was quiet as he spoke his thoughts. He was also grateful that he’d soon gotten another new customer shortly after dumping Ben Hershberger.
“Deacon! How are your horses?”
“Gut, Abram! How are you?”
“I’m very gut, denki. Hannah and Eleanor are coming home on Friday!”
“Ya. I know. Just keep up with the peer counselor’s visits and your weekly therapy appointments.”
“I wanted to thank you for telling me to drop Hershberger. He was a big part of my blow-up the last time.”
“Son, you’re not over the hump yet. You’ll still hit bumps in the road.”
“I know. I’m learning ways of identifying my anger and where it’s coming from.” Abram lowered his heavy toolbox from his wagon and walked next to the deacon as they talked. The day held a hint of warmth.
“And are you learning how to express to Hannah that you need time alone for a while? That’s important with my wife and me. We will go to separate areas to calm down.”
“Ya, that’s what my therapist suggested. I’ll tell Hannah I need a time-out—Joshua called it a time-out—and then take ten minutes or whatever I need to understand why I’m angry and get back under control. I only wish I could...”
“What?” Deacon King was curious.
“Promise you won’t think it’s mupsich?”
“Nee. If you have the thought, it’s worth discussing.”
Abram sighed. He spoke hesitantly. “If I could take an old pillow or something and hit that if I need to get the anger out physically, it would help.”
“I don’t see why not. As long as you know that you’re only supposed to hit the object and not the person.”
Abram grinned in relief. “Denki. I’ll look for something, like an old quilt and set that in a ‘time-out’ area.”
“And let Hannah know what you’re doing and why. Oh. And make sure your ‘time-out’ area is close enough that you can get to it quickly.”
Lifting the first horse’s hoof, Abram grunted. “I had thought of running to the barn.”
“Gut idea in gut weather. But if it’s a blizzard or rainstorm outside? You need a room in your house. It’s big enough.”
As Abram worked on the horses, he and Hannes continued to discuss strategies that Abram could use to deal with his anger.
Chapter 2
The next day dawned blustery and colder than it had been for the past week. Abram pulled his coat on as he prepared for his day’s appointments. He accepted a thermos of hot coffee gratefully.
“What time will Hannah be home?” Martha was curious.
“She’s working at the market, so not until around four or so. Why?”
“I’m going to make something special for your supper.” Turning, Martha walked back into the house.
Abram was confused. His mamm rarely bore that look of mystery. Today was one of those days. By the time he came home, he knew that Hannah would be coming in as well. Walking into the house, he smelled roast beef. Reading the note on the table, he saw that his mamm had left notes for him and Hannah. Her note to him directed him to check in one of the first-floor bedrooms, where he found some old pillows and a ratty old quilt. Hearing Big Sam and Hannah walk into the house, he rejoiced and headed for the door.
“Hannah! Big Sam! Denki for bringing her home!”
“Smells gut!”
“Ya, Mamm made roast beef.”
Hannah sniffed deeply, her eyes closed. “I’ll go see what needs to be done.” She grasped Abram’s hand quickly, and then hurried into the kitchen.
Big Sam fixed Abram with a solemn stare. “You take care of my family. Keep doing the gut work you’re doing because you have a lot of people supporting you.”
“Denki, Sam. I will.” Abram was determined to treat his family with tenderness and love. He felt Sam’s hand land heavily on his shoulder.
“And, if you so much as yell at Hannah or raise one finger to her, she and the baby will be gone for much longer.” Big Sam’s expression was solemn. Anger underlay his words.
“I understand.” Abram felt more than a little fear curdling in his stomach. While he was determined to act right toward her, he wondered privately if he could defeat the wrongful beliefs imposed on him by his uncle. Instead of speaking up about those fears, Abram swallowed them back, which would prove to be a big mistake.
That night, after Hannah cleaned the kitchen, she and Abram sat together in the living room. Abram brought an extra kerosene lamp into the room so he could read while Hannah worked on some crochet.
Abram felt the time was right to tell her about the advice he’d gotten from his counselor while she was away. “Hannah, I don’t want this to happen anymore.” Abram set his book down after slipping a piece of paper in as a bookmark. “I got some tips from my counselor earlier this week. He suggested that I have a sort of ‘quiet room,’ where I could go and take some time for myself when I feel frustration or anger building. I would have to tell you what I’m feeling, so you’re aware. Also, I asked him if I could have something soft and old, like a pillow or an old quilt that isn’t used anymore, so I could use that to vent my anger when I need to do something physical. He thought it was a gut idea.”
Hannah smiled, realizing that Abram was taking their issues seriously. “I like it, too, Abram. I’ll respect your need for, what did you call it? Taking time for yourself? I think that’s important, especially when your customers have been acting in ways that frustrate you. I’ve also been learning new ways of dealing with our situation.”
Abram was happy to learn this, knowing they would be working as a team. “What have you learned?”
“Communication. We have to communicate, verbally and non-verbally, with each other in ways that are respectful of each other. If I feel myself getting angry and wanting to say something that’s less than loving, I need to let you know that. We both have to do that. If I see you becoming frustrated or angry, I
have to let you know that. Then...I need to take the baby and myself and get into a room where I can regain my calmness while I allow you to do the same. Only when we are both able to discuss an issue without it becoming full of anger or violence, should we resume.”
Abram was curious, but apprehensive about asking the question on his mind, but he went ahead. “Hannah, this question might surprise you. I hope it doesn’t upset you. When... When I hit you that time, what signs did you see coming from me that told you I wasn’t in control of myself?” Abram understood he’d made a mistake. He was always in control but had decided to allow his anger to take the lead.
Hannah decided Abram needed to know what she saw and intuited. “Well, your voice gets louder as you get angrier. Before you begin raising your voice, I see clues in your face. It gets red. Your eyebrows go down and bunch up. And your shoulders go up toward your head. My intuition tells me before all this starts to happen. That’s when I try to calm you and the situation down.”
“I wonder... If we tried to add something to our communication methods, would it help?” He saw a look of puzzlement on Hannah’s face. “What I mean is that if you get that feeling, or if I’m beginning to raise my voice, would it help if you told me that I need to move to my time-out room?” Again, Abram made a mistake, trying to put the responsibility for his actions onto Hannah.
Instinctively, Hannah realized this. Sighing, she turned toward Abram and took his hand in hers. “Husband, I can simply tell you that a discussion is getting out of control. It will be my responsibility to take the baby with me to a room where we are safe from a blowup. But it will be your responsibility to see what action you should take. It’s a fifty-fifty responsibility that we share.”
Abram saw what he had done and he apologized. “I’m so sorry. I was trying to put responsibility for my actions on you and that was wrong. Ya, I’ll take the responsibility for removing myself from any disagreements we may have.” He squeezed Hannah’s hand, one of the first signs of affection they’d shown in a long time.
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