A Place of Peace

by Amy Clipston

  Miriam and her sisters shook their heads.

  “Your dad will be just fine. It will take him a little while to get back on his feet. Just have patience with him.” Dr. Fulton then stepped into the hospital room to see Abraham.

  “Should we go down to the cafeteria and get something to drink?” Miriam offered. “Maybe it will do us some good to walk a little bit.”

  “That’s a gut idea.” Hannah looped her arm around Lilly, who was still sniffing back tears.

  They walked in silence to the cafeteria, where Miriam bought each of them a soda. They sat at a corner table and drank in silence.

  “I can’t believe he’s paralyzed,” Hannah finally said. “I thought he was strong as an ox.”

  Miriam nodded. “I did too. It’s amazing how life can change in the blink of an eye.”

  “Ya,” Lilly said. “Mamm’s gone, Daed had a stroke, and the summer isn’t over yet.”

  “But we still have each other. We have our family.” Hannah squeezed their hands. “Family is what matters most.”

  Lilly looked at Miriam. “I’m so glad to have my sisters and brother.”

  Miriam smiled, wondering what Hannah could’ve said to Abraham and Lilly to get them to change their minds about her.

  “Gerald said he would visit this afternoon,” Lilly continued. “We can head back home soon.”

  “How long do you think Daed will be in rehab?”

  Miriam sipped her drink. “Didn’t the doctor say a month?”

  “Ya,” Hannah said. “I believe that was it.”

  “We can take turns going to visit him.” Lilly ran her fingers over the condensation on the cup. “I’ll care for him when he comes home. I’m making quilts for Naomi’s mamm’s business, so that’s no problem.”

  Miriam’s stomach dropped at the mention of Naomi’s name. Soon Naomi King would be Naomi Kauffman, and that thought made Miriam ill.

  “You don’t need to shoulder all of the work when he’s home,” Hannah said. “We can take turns with him. I’m sure other friends and relatives will visit with him and check on him too.”

  “We’ll figure it out,” Miriam said. “I’ll help out as much as I can.”

  “So, have you thought about coming back here for good?” Lilly asked.

  “Lilly, she hasn’t had much time to consider it,” Hannah chided. “It’s not the kind of decision you make in a few hours.”

  “I’m still thinking,” Miriam said.

  “You should make a list of pros and cons,” Lilly said while fiddling with the straw in her Styrofoam cup. “That’s what I do when I have a really serious decision to make.”

  Miriam nodded. “That’s a really smart idea.”

  Lilly shrugged. “Sometimes I have good ideas.”

  “We better get back to check on him,” Miriam said, standing. “He may wake up and think we abandoned him.”

  As they headed back to her father’s room, Miriam couldn’t help but think how wonderful it felt to be a part of the Lapp family once again.

  Later that evening, Miriam sat at the kitchen table and wrote on a notepad by the light of the lantern. At the top of the page, she scrawled “Reasons to stay in Gordonville.” In one column, she wrote “Pros” and in the other “Cons.”

  Gnawing on the end of her pen, she considered the pros and then began to make a list:

  Be with family

  Help Aenti with chores and expenses

  Help Daed with recovery

  Help Hannah with kinner

  Get to know my nieces and nephew

  She rubbed her neck with her hand for a moment and then crafted her con list:

  Watch Timothy marry someone else

  Miss Abby

  Give up job in Indiana

  Miss friends in Indiana

  “What have you got there, Miriam?” Edna asked, causing Miriam to jump with a start.

  “Aenti,” Miriam said. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Sorry. I guess I snuck out of the bathroom.” Edna leaned over Miriam’s shoulder and read the list. “Hmm. Looks to me like the pros outweigh the cons.”

  “You think so?” Miriam asked.

  Edna lowered herself into the chair next to her. “Ya, I do. I think in your heart your family matters most. From what you’ve told me, moving to Indiana was the hardest thing you had to do because you had to say good-bye to your family. Now your daed and your hurtful younger sister have realized the error of their ways, and they want you back in their lives. That’s what you’ve always wanted. Honestly, I don’t see what’s holding you back from letting them welcome you into their lives again.”

  Miriam bit her lower lip and stared at the list.

  “It’s Timothy Kauffman, isn’t it?” Edna’s smile was sympathetic. “You love him, and seeing him marry someone else will truly be painful for you.”

  “Ya.” Miriam sniffed.

  “He’s not married yet, Miriam.”

  “Aenti, you know as well as I do that a proposal is as strong a promise as the wedding vows in our community.”

  “They haven’t taken their vows yet. If you tell him how you feel …”

  “I can’t do that.” Miriam shook her head. “I can’t do that to Naomi. She’s good friends with Lilly. Besides, Timothy made his choice.”

  Edna shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  Miriam glanced down at the list. “I just don’t know what the right choice is. How will I know if I’m making the right decision?”

  “Pray about it,” Edna said. “He’ll tell you.”

  “Right.” She stared down at the list again. It seemed as if the answer was right there before her, but she couldn’t see it.

  Edna stood. “Gut nacht. I’ll see you in the morning.” She then began to shuffle toward the bedroom.

  Watching her aunt walk slowly and with so much effort suddenly made the answer crystal clear: Miriam was needed right here.

  “Aenti,” she said.

  “Ya?” Edna faced her.

  “I’m going to stay.” She sat up straighter, confident in her decision. “I’m going to meet with the bishop tomorrow and see about being baptized into the faith.”

  “Oh, Miriam!” Edna sidled up to her and hugged her. “Did you know that the baptism is going to be held at your father’s house? Abraham is hosting the baptism service that Sunday in October.”

  Miriam gasped. “It’s a sign from God.”

  “Ya.” Edna cupped her hand to Miriam’s cheek. “I believe it is.”

  “I know I’ve missed most of the pre-baptism classes this summer, but maybe the bishop will make a special exception for me since we’ve lost our mamm and daed is ill. I can explain that I want to do it as soon as possible so that my daed knows I did it while he’s still here with us.”

  “I’m so, so thankful to hear this,” Edna said.

  “Me too.” Miriam smiled. She knew in her heart that this was the right choice.

  17

  Miriam sucked in a deep breath and parked her car by the barn behind Bishop Gideon Swartzendruber’s farm the following morning. She’d practiced her speech several times during the ride over, but the words had somehow evaporated from her head as soon as she halted her car. This would be a difficult conversation at best. In Miriam’s church district, baptisms were performed once every other year before the fall communion service in order to allow the newly baptized to commune with the rest of the church members. Communion was held twice per year—in October and April—as a special daylong service.

  Most Amish youth were baptized between the ages of sixteen and twenty-one; however, sometimes community members chose to experience the English world before joining, as Miriam had. Instruction sessions were held during the first thirty minutes of church services over the summer months, during which the class members met with the ministers while the rest of the church members sang hymns. The ministers and bishop reviewed the eighteen articles of the Dordrecht Confession of Faith and emphasized aspects of the Ordnung.
Four years ago, Miriam had completed the classes and then changed her mind a few days before the baptism. She’d left without consequence since she was never baptized.

  The classes were required with rare exception, and Miriam knew she’d missed a good part of them. Therefore, she had to convince the bishop to allow her to make up what she’d missed so that her father could see her baptized as soon as possible.

  Miriam’s heart thumped in her chest as she yanked the keys from the ignition and climbed from the small sedan. Dressed in the plain black frock, black cape, and apron, she hoped she looked presentable for her impromptu meeting with the bishop. She touched her prayer kapp to make certain it was straight.

  Rallying her courage, she approached the back door of the house, hoping the bishop was home. Since he ran a dairy farm and also grew crops, she assumed he had plenty to keep him busy at the house.

  She knocked on the back door and then waited. A few minutes later, the door creaked open, revealing the bishop, his brow knitted together in confusion.

  “Miriam Lapp?” he asked.

  “Gude mariye,” she said, plastering a smile on her nervous lips. “I was hoping to speak with you a few moments.”

  “Ya.” He stepped out onto the porch. “I heard your daed has taken ill.”

  “He had a stroke.” Miriam absently fingered her apron. “He’s in Lancaster General now but is going to be moved to a rehabilitation facility in a few days. One of his arms and a leg are paralyzed.”

  The bishop folded his arms across his broad chest. “I’m sorry to hear it. I’ll go visit him later. Some of the women in the district are putting together meals for your family and will deliver them today. Let us know how else we can help.”

  “Danki.” Miriam cleared her throat. “I wanted to speak with you about another matter.”

  He gestured toward chairs on the porch. “Please, have a seat. Would you like a drink?”

  “No, danki.” Miriam lowered herself into a rocker. “I won’t keep you long.”

  “Wie geht’s?“ he asked, fingering his gray beard.

  “I would like to join the church,” she said, her body trembling with anxiety and excitement. “I’m ready to be baptized.”

  His expression was stern. “You know this is a huge commitment, Miriam. You have to renounce all of your worldly possessions.” He pointed in the direction of the Honda. “Foremost your car.”

  She nodded. “I plan to take the car back to Indiana and give it to my English friend. I’m ready to live by the Ordnung and give my life to Christ.”

  He rubbed his beard while studying her. “Are you certain?”

  “Absolutely. I need to make a trip to Indiana to take care of some things and then I’ll be ready to start instruction. I would like to be baptized this year. I know it’s going to be held at my daed’s house, and it would mean a lot to him to be there. I know this is short notice since the classes are already in session this summer, but I wanted to ask you—no, beg you—for an exception for the sake of my father and his declining health.”

  The bishop shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to say no. You’ve missed too many instructional classes to be baptized this year. You’ll have to go to another district next year or wait two years for our next district class.”

  “Please hear me out.” Miriam took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts. “You may think that I ran off four years ago to sample the English life without any thought about how my leaving affected my family. However, that’s not true.”

  Gideon held his hand up to stop her from speaking. “I’m in no place to judge you or anyone else. We leave the judgment to God.”

  “No, wait.” She clasped her hands together as tears filled her eyes. “I want to explain. I left not only because I thought I belonged in the English world, but also because someone whom I loved had betrayed me. However, I’ve learned some hard lessons, including that I belong here with my family and the person I love didn’t betray me. Losing my mother and almost losing my father taught me even more. Now I know with all my heart that I want to be Amish and I want to be here with my family.” With her voice caught, she paused to wipe her eyes.

  Clearing her throat, she continued. “My father’s health is fragile. His heart is broken after losing my mother and he looks as if he’s aged a decade in only a few days because of his stroke. He’s finally let me back into his life after four years, and I want to show him I’m still the girl he remembers. I want to be baptized with the current class. I take my vows seriously, and I’m begging you to let me into that class. Please let me share this moment with my father while he’s still alive. I’ll make up the classes whenever it’s most convenient for you. I’ll work hard and show you that I’m dedicated.”

  Compassion glimmered in the bishop’s eyes. “You’re absolutely certain about this, Miriam?”

  She nodded. “There’s no doubt in my mind.”

  The bishop paused for a moment. “You make that trip to Indiana and then come see me when you get back and we’ll begin your instruction,” he finally said.

  “Danki.” Miriam stood and shook his hand. “I’ll come see you next week. Have a gut day.” She started toward the car, her heart pounding with excitement.

  “Miriam,” he called after her.

  She turned, meeting his stern gaze.

  “This is a very serious decision,” he said. “It’s not one to be taken lightly. Once you’ve joined, you’re in for life.”

  “I know in my heart that it’s the right time for me to make the commitment to Christ and my community.”

  “Gut.” His expression softened. “We’ll go visit your daed later this afternoon.”

  “Danki.” Miriam climbed into her car. As she turned the ignition, bringing her Honda to life, she considered what it would feel like to give up her car, her driver’s license, her job at the pediatrician’s office, her laptop, her email address, her jeans, and her makeup. Although the sacrifices were great, the reward was so much greater. She would finally be a true part of the Amish community, the community of her birth and her parents’ birth.

  Yes, she was ready to give it all up. She was ready to live as a true member of the Lapp family. The thought filled her with a warmth she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

  Nevertheless, there was one disappointment nagging at her.

  If only I could have Timothy by my side.

  The thought echoed in her mind as she drove to the Kauffman Amish Bakery. She parked in the lot out front and then headed in the front door, past the loud English tourists blocking the small aisles and filling their baskets with pastries and trinkets, including key chains, figurines, dolls, postcards, magnets, and T-shirts.

  “Miriam!” Lindsay squealed and rushed around the counter, engulfing Miriam in a tight hug. “It’s so good to see you!”

  “Danki.” Miriam held her tight. “How are you?”

  “We’ve been so busy. Please tell me you’re coming back.” She pulled away from the hug and examined Miriam’s expression. “Please?”

  “I need to discuss that with your Aenti Beth Anne.”

  “She’s in the back.” Lindsay jammed her thumb toward the kitchen. “You know the way.”

  “Danki.” Miriam patted Lindsay’s shoulder while stepping past her.

  Her smile deepened when she stepped back into the kitchen. While she enjoyed working for the pediatrician in Indiana, she loved the bakery. The sweet smell of icing and apple pie assaulted her senses, causing her stomach to growl.

  Miriam’s former coworkers were busy at work in the kitchen. Elizabeth was wrapping a pie while Beth Anne pulled a sheet of cookies from an oven. Kathryn was icing a chocolate cake.

  Beth Anne spun to face the door, and her eyes widened when they met Miriam’s. “Miriam!” Beth Anne rushed over and hugged her. “How are you?”

  “Gut.” Miriam nodded a greeting to Elizabeth and Kathryn, who both looked surprised to see her. “Could I possibly talk to you in private?”

&
nbsp; “Of course.” Beth Anne led her to the office, shutting the door behind them. “Have a seat.” She gestured toward the chair across from the desk. “Wie geht’s?”

  Miriam lowered herself into the chair. “I’m coming back to stay—permanently.”

  “Ack, that’s wunderbaar!” Beth Anne clapped her hands together. “Will you come back to work at the bakery?”

  “I’d like to—if you’ll hire me again.”

  “Of course!” Beth Anne patted Miriam’s shoulder and then sat in the chair across from her. “May I ask why you decided to come back?”

  “My daed had a stroke.”

  “Oh no! I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  “Danki. He has some paralysis, but overall he’s okay. He’s at Lancaster General and will be moved to a rehabilitation center in a few days to learn to do basic daily tasks, like dressing himself.” Miriam cleared her throat, hoping to hold back her emotions. “He asked me to come back. I left because my family had been treating me like a stranger. Only Hannah and Aenti Edna have been treating me like family —up until I came back to see my daed. Now Daed, Lilly, and Gerald have apologized and asked me to be a part of the family again.”

  “Oh my goodness.” Beth Anne’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know what to say. That’s a beautiful story. I’m so happy for you.” She squeezed Miriam’s hands. “I’m glad you’re coming back.”

  Miriam bit her lip, internally debating if she should tell Beth Anne about Lilly’s confession.

  “What else is on your mind?” Beth Anne’s expression was full of concern.

  “There’s something else Lilly told me, and I want to share it with you. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

  “Please tell me.” Beth Anne’s lips curved into a sweet smile. “We’re friends. You can be honest with me.”

  “I wanted to share something Lilly told me just to clear the air between us.”

  Beth Anne tilted her head in question. “What is it?”