by June Belfie
Anna hadn’t cried for weeks, but she allowed her tears to flow freely. It was necessary to remain strong for her children, but today she was alone. So alone.
She knelt beside the bed they’d shared and prayed for God to give her strength. So far he had, but today she felt very fragile—as if she might melt into the floor and become non-existent. It was a strange thought. She shook her head and returned to her prayer. Jah, strength and wisdom. And the ability to raise her children to be obedient and strong Amish adults someday.
Their times of family devotions had ceased. There was no cooperation from the children. Their restlessness and disinterest usual led to pushing and arguments. She’d given up, though she insisted on hearing their individual prayers each evening, even though they were short and repetitive.
After her tears were drained and she knew the children would soon be home, she replaced the photo in the drawer and went downstairs. The Budget article she had saved months before was still hanging on the refrigerator door. She had been faithful about praying for the remaining family of the tragic buggy accident until the last couple of weeks. She wondered how the poor man was managing his young ones. Anna hoped he was doing better than she was as she stopped to bow her head and deliver a prayer for him and his whole family. Maybe someday she’d write and tell him how sorry she was for his loss, though it would look forward on her part and he might misread it. Better just to pray privately for him and not become involved in personal correspondence.
Later, Anna molded ground chicken into a meatloaf and placed it in a hot oven. She loved having a propane gas stove. They had purchased it from money given to them for their wedding and it was the best decision they had made.
The children could be heard from the road as they made their way into the house.
“Leave your shoes outside. It made wet this morning and I’m sure your shoes are muddy,” she called over as the back door opened.
They grumbled as they removed them and left them on the back porch. “Aenti Beth was mean today,” Mark informed her as he removed his jacket and threw it on the floor.
“Mark, hang your coat on the peg! If Aenti Beth was mean, then I am sure you deserved it.”
“All I did was talk to my bruder one time,” he started.
“You talked to Matthew every five minutes! She warned you,” Luke corrected.
“She stuck me in the corner for almost an hour,” he complained.
“Ten minutes, tops,” Luke said, glaring at his younger brother.
Matthew nodded. “I didn’t talk back to him, Mamm. I knew we would get in trouble.”
“Well gut for you, Matthew. I don’t want to hear another bad report tomorrow, Mark. You know I’ll have to punish you, if I do.”
“What would you do to me?” he asked, his eyes round as marbles.
“I’m not real sure, but you wouldn’t like it. I know that much.”
Mark covered his mouth and let out a low giggle.
“Mark!” she said, trying to use her most threatening tone.
“Mamm, you’re so funny,” Mark said as he ran from the room.
Rachel had been taking in the whole scene. She came over to her mother and took her hand. “I listen, Mamm. Aenti Beth says I’m the bestest kinner in her class. She whispered so no one would be upset,” she added.
Anna put her arms around her daughter and patted her back. “I’m happy to hear that, sweetie. Poor Aenti Beth has a lot of work ahead of her with those bruders of yours.”
Rachel let out a low whistle. “You can say that again!”
As soon as the children went to bed that evening, Anna headed for her room. She removed her kapp and untwisted her long braid. Looking into the small square mirror on the wall, she noted dark circles under her eyes. Would they ever go away? In spite of her appearance, she felt more confident than she had about her future. God had blessed her with four wonderful children. They were difficult sometimes, but they would eventually grow up and mature. Yes, she would make it. She had no choice.
She found herself spending less time thinking of the past and more time planning for her future. With all the help from her family and friends, she could remain in her home, which was fully paid for and comfortable. It met all her needs. Her health was good, and so far, so were the children’s. Jeremiah was in heaven, she was confident of that. He’d been a devout Amish Christian man, never doubting the deity of Jesus. She often found him on his knees, praying for the family and those who were non-believers. She’d learned so much from her husband about faith and what it meant to live it out. In the beginning, following his sudden death, she found it difficult to pray, but now she went frequently to Jesus, sometimes to talk, sometimes to offer up praises and sometimes, just to remain quietly in His presence.
The one thing she asked for time and time again was wisdom in dealing with her boisterous sons. She was sure He would answer her request. It seemed to be taking a little longer than she wished, but then her timing was not His—a lesson difficult to accept sometimes, but one she was learning.
After saying her nightly prayers, she laid on her bed and pulled a light blanket over her body. Maybe tonight she’d have another dream of Jeremiah. Though it was difficult to wake up from those times and find herself alone, it still helped her get through the long nights. She closed her eyes and within moments escaped into a dream state. As she slept, her body repaired itself and prepared her for the following day. Always faithful, the Lord watched over her. He had plans.
Chapter Twelve
Abe was exhausted. The fall was a difficult time for farmers. While the harvest was excellent this year, it was also demanding. He and his brothers and friends worked tirelessly to bring in the crops while the weather permitted. They worked together, moving from one farm to the next, taking advantage of the sunlight and sometimes even using propane lanterns on their equipment if rain was predicted the next day. Finally, the harvest was in and everyone took a sigh of relief.
Abe’s sister Naomi kept Alice, his three-year-old, at her home while he put in the extra hours. Though she had five children of her own to care for—all under the age of eight—she never complained or hesitated to draw her niece into the fold.
Abe knew he was blessed to have her next door and so willing to help out. His parents, though both alive and only an hour away by buggy, were consumed with the care of his grandmother, who had Alzheimer’s and tried to leave the premises at all hours of the day and night. Good thing his brother Sam was still at home to help out.
In addition to that concern, his elder sister was also at home and needed special care. She had been born with Down’s syndrome and had the mental capacity of a five-year-old. All in all, his parents were unavailable most of the time to help him with his own family.
His twin brothers’ wives often brought food over for the family, but they each had large families of their own. So Naomi was the one he went to most frequently.
A young single woman named Valerie came frequently in the beginning, but Abe had a feeling she was interested in him as a man and potential husband. He was not ready to deal with a relationship beyond friendship, and probably never would be. She seemed impatient with the children and lacked concern for the grief they were dealing with, so he was relieved when she stopped coming by.
He made his way over to Naomi’s Sunday morning to pick up Allie and take her to church with the boys, but she clung to Naomi’s apron and barely smiled when he leaned over for a hug.
“What’s wrong, little one? Forget your old daed, already?” He put his arms in front of him, waiting for her to respond as she usually did, by running into his arms and squeezing his neck. Allie was the apple of his eye; he couldn’t deny it.
But today, she seemed shy. Naomi tried to coax her to go with her father, but she wound the hem of Naomi’s apron around her own waist and stared at her father.
“I can bring her when we come, Abe. Go along now. She’ll be fine.”
“Very well.” His mouth turned down
and his eyes reflected his disappointment. As he headed into the waiting buggy, Johnny asked about his sister.
“Ain’t Allie coming?”
“She wants to stay with Aenti Naomi today.” He grimly took hold of the reins and clucked to start his horse in the direction of the road.
“She always wants to stay there,” Benny remarked, looking straight ahead from his seat in the back.
“She likes to play with boppli,” Johnny said, matter-of-factly.
“I know, but I still miss her a little.” Benny said.
“We’ll see more of her now,” Abe reassured his boys. “With the harvest over, I’ll have more time to take care of her.”
“It’s hard, huh, daed?” Johnny asked. “She still wears diapers at night, I bet.”
“Naomi does our wash with hers,” Abe reminded him.
“Jah, their clotheslines are always filled. Looks like she has a hundred boppli,” Benny said, adding a grin.
When they got to the barn of the Stutzman family where service was being held, they climbed out and Abe took the buggy to the designated area and unhitched the horse. Several of his friends, who had helped him earlier on the farm, came over and patted him on the back.
“Glad we’re done for a year. It was a gut harvest, though,” Abe said.
“Jah, indeed it was. Gott is gut,” one friend said, bobbing his curly red beard up and down.
“Jah, indeed,” Abe responded, though his mouth drew down at the mention of God.
Naomi and her husband, William, pulled up and Abe went over to help the children out. Their eight-year-old daughter was holding Allie, who burrowed her head into her cousin’s bodice when she saw her daed.
“Now, Allie, come to me now.”
“Nee.”
“Why are you acting like this?” Abe looked helplessly at Naomi, who was standing next to him, holding her baby in her arms.
“Abe, let her be. We can work this out tomorrow. She’s been upset all morning.”
He was about to respond, when he exhaled deeply instead. “Jah, you’re right. I don’t want a scene. It’s not fair to you, Naomi. You have enough to do taking care of your brood.”
“I don’t mind. You know that. Now let’s head over for the service. It’s getting real crowded already.”
As they walked over together, the little ones ran off to join friends. The mothers of the babies and toddlers grouped together before taking their seats on the women’s side of the barn. It was getting cool out now that it was late October, and most had shawls or light coats.
After the service, the women set up the tables of food and several of them insisted on Abe taking the remainder of their platters and casseroles home with him for the family. He hadn’t yet had to cook a meal, and the boys were delighted with all the extra desserts they received. It would never make up for losing their beloved mother and their siblings, but it showed the care and concern the neighbors and families had for the Stoltzfus family.
The next morning, Abe took his two boys over to his sister’s house and they played outside with their cousins. Allie was outside with the older girls playing with a stuffed Amish doll.
Abe, Naomi, and William sat around the kitchen table drinking coffee. “I don’t know what I’m going to do about Allie,” Abe said after their conversation turned to his daughter.
William nodded as he stirred sugar into his mug. “She can stay with us, Abe, you know that.”
“It’s just not right. Mary would be upset if she knew the family wasn’t together—all the time.”
“Did you ever think you should marry again?” William asked softly.
“Nee, not with any seriousness.”
“It don’t have to be love, you know,” Naomi added.
“That’s for certain,” Abe said, turning his cup around in his hands. “I’ll never love again. Not like with Mary.”
“Maybe not, Abe, but sometimes people marry for reasons other than love. Like to make a family. Give your boys a mamm.”
“No woman is going to want to take on a widower with three kinner. She’d be foolish.”
“Unless she needed a man to father her own kinner,” William said.
“So you mean find a widow.”
“Jah, that’s what I mean,” William said, as he sat back and tugged on his beard.
“I don’t even know any widows under the age of sixty. I’m not about to resort to an old lady.”
Naomi giggled. “There must be someone your age who needs a man. Maybe we have to go out of the district. Do you give me permission to ask around?”
Abe shook his head. “I don’t know. I really can’t think about that. Surely Allie will remember her daed and come home with me.”
“Abe, she’s only three—still a boppli,” Naomi said. “Maybe we should raise her for you till she’s older. The buwe seem to be getting on okay.”
“Jah, they’re still grieving, but it will be a long time before…”
“I know, bruder,” Naomi said, resting her hand on his arm. “It’s only been three months. You have to give it time.”
“There’s not that much time in the universe. I’ll never be over it.”
“Gott will help you through. You have to go to Him.”
“I try. My prayers don’t seem to leave the house. They just kinda sit there.”
William nodded. “He’s listening, Abe. You just don’t always feel it.”
“That’s what I tell myself. Maybe it’s because I’ve turned away a little. Maybe I’m a little upset with Gott.”
“I’m sure that’s natural,” Naomi said as she wiped a tear with her apron. “But Mary and your little ones are in the arms of Jesus now. What better place to be.”
“Jah, you’re right. I need to remind myself of that. Denki, for understanding.”
William sipped at his coffee and then put his mug down. “It’s not always easy.”
“Nee.”
“Sometimes I think about those poor families in Lancaster after the school tragedy. What they had to deal with. But they forgave. We have no choice.”
“I’ve forgiven the truck driver, William. Right away. He was devastated, poor man.”
“Jah. If you can forgive him, then you should be able to forgive Gott.”
“I never thought of it that way. You’re right and Gott loves me and wants me and my family to get through this.”
“And maybe, part of His plan is to bring a mamm into your home for the sake of your kinner. Just think, Abe, somewhere there is a woman who may need a daed for her kinner.”
“Well, I guess Gott’s going to have to figure a way to get us together, because I don’t have the will to look.”
Naomi smiled. “Maybe Gott will use me. More coffee, Abe?”
“Nee, I better go see my dochder and coax her to come home with me.”
“Remember, if she’s too upset, we love her and are happy to watch her till things get easier.”
He nodded and stood. “I don’t know what I’d do without you two. Denki.”
Then he walked outside and headed for his daughter.
Chapter Thirteen
Beth watched as the children played during their recess. The boys usually headed for the baseball field or played Eck ball, while the girls either played hopscotch or jumped rope. Some of the younger children chased each other around the yard or played hide and seek. There wouldn’t be many more weeks of fair weather now that it was the middle of October.
Lydia Cook was officially accepted as an aide by the school board and seemed satisfied by the low wage she was offered.
One day she sat next to Beth, who was seated on a bench near the front door to the schoolhouse. “Those nephews of yours are sure full of energy. Poor Anna. No wonder she looks tired all the time.”
“Jah, they’re a handful. She’s lost a lot of weight, too, since Jeremiah passed away.”
“Maybe she’ll find a man to marry and help her with the kinner.”
“She’s not looking. I d
oubt she could handle marriage right now.”
“But it’s got to be tough with the farm and all.”
“Zach helps a lot, as well as other folk. Even Luke takes on more than his share.”
“It was smart to get rid of most of the cows. They take a lot of work.”
“How about you, Lydia, why aren’t you married?”
“Just haven’t found anyone yet. And you?”
“Guess it’s the same with me.”
“You’re too fussy, Beth. You had some nice guys interested in you, but it never seemed to work out.”
“Maybe it’s because I get impatient and say stupid things sometimes.”
Lydia laughed. “You do have a reputation.”
“Anyone you’re interested in?” Beth asked her friend.
“Nee, but I have my eyes on someone. Just don’t want to talk about it yet.”
“I won’t tell,” Beth said leaning closer for privacy.
“When I have an idea the feeling is mutual, or should I say, ‘if’ then I’ll report to you—since you’re my boss.”
Beth laughed. “We’d better get the kinner back in now. They already got an extra five minutes of playtime due to our gabbing.”
At the end of the day, Beth walked home with her niece, Rachel, in hand.
“Aenti Beth, why are my bruders so noisy?”
Beth laughed. “They’re buwe, honey. That’s what guys do.”
“Not the other guys. They listen to you. Of course, my bruders used to be better. They weren’t allowed to scream when daed was around.”
“They shouldn’t be allowed to scream now, either. Your mamm has to be firmer with them.”
“That’s what I tell her, too,” Rachel said, nodding in agreement. “But sometimes she just leaves the room and goes upstairs.”
“Ach. That accomplishes nothing. I’ll talk to her.”
“Nee, she’ll be mad I told you. Sometimes she cries.”
“She misses your daed something fierce, honey.”