A Blessing for Miriam

by Jerry S. Eicher

  Margaret and Leslie had disappeared.

  “You’d best eat something,” Aunt Fannie said, coming to stand by Miriam. “Crackers maybe?” Aunt Fannie followed her own suggestion, and Miriam did likewise while they heated bowls of food.

  Strength slowly returned to her body as Miriam chewed on crackers spread with peanut butter. They were a poor substitute for the supper they’d anticipated hours ago, but that food must go to the rescue workers. Even then, from the looks of things, there wouldn’t be enough to go around for long.

  “We’ll mix in ours with theirs,” Aunt Fannie mused. “That should make a good start.” She made a quick trip out to the trailer and returned with bags of corn chips and slices of plastic-wrapped meat. These she laid out on the table beside the bowls of food from home.

  The offerings wouldn’t go far, but they could ration things for a while, Miriam figured. Already she heard footsteps shuffling about outside. Soon a line of emergency response personnel was formed at the table. Miriam dipped out of the bowls in small quantities, while Fannie made coffee. People served themselves from the rest of what was available. The food was gulped down while the men and women stood. They washed down the quick meal with coffee and bottled water that Fannie brought from the trailer.

  “Excellent stuff,” one gruff firefighter told them. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” Aunt Fannie said. “And thank you for your help tonight.”

  A tear glistened in the man’s eyes for a moment. “These things are hard to understand, but I’m glad to see people of faith here tonight. It comforts our hearts.”

  “We can all believe in the Lord,” Aunt Fannie assured him as he took another gulp of water.

  “How did your place fare?” the man inquired. “I assume it’s outside town?”

  Aunt Fannie’s smile was strained. “The Lord was with us, and our lives were spared. All that was lost was our business—our greenhouse. We will rebuild if the Lord allows.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” the man said. “Thanks for coming out even with your own losses.”

  “We wouldn’t have it any other way,” Aunt Fannie said.

  Fifteen minutes later Miriam watched the man leave as she dipped the last of the mashed potatoes from one of the bowls. She added a dash of gravy to the plate and closed the lid. Their supper had helped, but greater things were on people’s minds tonight than food. Uncle William had been right. When lives are at risk, all else dims in comparison.

  Miriam stepped out of the tent to take a look out over the town’s horizon. The bright lights had moved further south, so the search of the north side of town must have concluded. Uncle William and Deacon Phillips were out there somewhere. Had Wayne arrived too? He would have come if he could. She hoped the Yutzy farm hadn’t suffered too much damage. She figured Wayne was safe or she would have felt it in her heart. She trusted the Lord had watched over them as He had the Byler household.

  Miriam took another look at the lights over the town before she slipped back into the tent. The food line had grown longer. She hurried back to the trailer for more food to prepare. At least she was of use tonight. That was a comfort to her heart.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The morning sun had just risen above the horizon when Miriam peeked out her bedroom window. Even in the shadows of the dawn the destruction from the tornado was obvious. The heartache from last night returned with a vengeance. There would be no school today, and many in town would be in sorrow over the passing of their loved ones. The damage to hearts would take time to repair, and plenty of money would be needed to rebuild the destroyed properties. She would have to trust the Lord again this morning. She sent a quick prayer upward. “Help us all, dear Lord, and be with those who suffered the loss of loved ones last night. I know I can’t begin to understand their pain, but You can.” Miriam hesitated as that sober thought filled her. “Be with the hurting families,” she whispered as she dressed.

  She hadn’t seen Wayne in town, but no doubt he’d been helping out someone…if his parents’ place didn’t need work. Today he’d probably stop by to check on her and to let her know how he’d fared. She figured he’d probably heard that the greenhouse had been destroyed.

  Aunt Fannie was already in the kitchen, she was sure. Her aunt usually would have awakened her, but Aunt Fannie probably thought she needed the sleep after their late night. They hadn’t gotten back to the house until after two o’clock in the morning. Even then sleep hadn’t come easily for Miriam. The extent of the tragedy had weighed too heavily on her spirit.

  Miriam paused by the bedroom window as the clip-clops of hooves sounded in the still, morning air. She strained her eyes to catch the faint outline of a buggy in the distance. Was it Wayne? She studied the buggy as it approached. The familiar gait of the horse caught her attention first. It wasn’t Wayne’s horse, it was Deacon Phillips’s. She couldn’t be mistaken. Had the deacon come to help Uncle William clean up his property? At this time of the morning after such a late night? Probably not. He must have come with other news from the community. Miriam’s heart pounded at the thought. She hurried down the stairs. As she’d surmised, Aunt Fannie was busy in the kitchen.

  “You should have called me,” Miriam scolded gently.

  Aunt Fannie smiled wearily. “There’ll be plenty to do today, don’t worry.”

  “The deacon’s here,” Miriam said. “He must have news.”

  Aunt Fannie shook her head. “Deacon Phillips is probably checking up on us. Even with what we told him last night, he would wish to check in, especially with the loss of the greenhouse. William’s outside already. They can talk, and we’ll hear later if there’s anything we need to know.”

  “I suppose so,” Miriam allowed as she set out the breakfast plates. Deacon Phillips must be deep in conversation with Uncle William. Maybe Aunt Fannie was right, and the deacon wanted nothing more than to check up on their well-being. That wouldn’t be out of character for him. Both the deacon and his wife, Katie, had gentle hearts, and the duty of a deacon was to care for the community’s people. Miriam’s face fell as her thoughts turned to the destruction that lay just outside the house. Uncle William and Aunt Fannie’s greenhouse was gone. Their livelihood was gone. Her aunt and uncle would struggle to make ends meet and rebuild. And there might not be as much help available from the community with other homes and barns damaged. Miriam glanced at her aunt. “I’m sorry about the greenhouse. I’d almost forgotten for a moment.”

  Aunt Fannie’s glance was grim. “It was a tragedy, but we’ll come through. We always do.”

  Miriam stopped in the middle of the kitchen floor as the thought raced through her mind. Why hadn’t she thought of this before? The money! She could spend some of her money to help her aunt and uncle. Wayne and she wouldn’t need all of the money to purchase the cattle farm. The rest could go to help with the storm damage. Wayne would agree, wouldn’t he? How could he object? He said the money didn’t matter to him in the first place.

  Aunt Fannie was staring at Miriam when she came out of her daze. “The money! I can give you and Uncle William enough money to help rebuild the greenhouse. Then I can help other people too if they need it.”

  “What money?” Aunt Fannie asked, puzzled.

  “The two million dollars.”

  Comprehension dawned on Aunt Fannie’s face, which was quickly followed by doubt. “You can’t do that. We can’t take your money.”

  Miriam clasped her hands tightly. “After I help you and Uncle William, I can give some funds to Deacon Phillips to divide up for anyone else that needs help in the community. And if he needs help figuring it out, the other ministers can assist. Wayne will have no objections, I’m sure.”

  Aunt Fannie didn’t look convinced. “You should still speak to him first.”

  Miriam paused. “I will, but he won’t object.” Joy filled her heart. “Wayne and I planned to use the money to buy a cattle farm, but there will be a lot leftover. We can use that to help people
hurt by this tornado.”

  Aunt Fannie continued with her work. “That’s an awful lot of money to let go of. An awful lot.”

  “I know, but it’s for the best. Wayne will be right with me on that.” Relief swept over Miriam.

  “You’re a brave woman to let go of that security,” Aunt Fannie said. “But it would be a helpful decision. That much I do admit.”

  The clink of pots and pans filled the kitchen for the next few minutes. Aunt Fannie finally said, “I think we’re ready. Call Uncle William. If Deacon Phillips is still here, call him too. He’s welcome to our table.”

  Miriam moved toward the front door. Should she tell Deacon Phillips her plan right now before she discussed it with Wayne? Surely Wayne would join her in rejoicing that the funds would be put to such gut use. Perhaps this was even why the Lord had allowed her to receive the money in the first place!

  Miriam opened the door and stepped out on the porch. Deacon Phillips and Uncle William were standing beside the buggy with bowed heads. Miriam stopped short. Deacon Phillips must have brought sad news. How else could the sorrow on their faces be explained? They looked up and both of them turned her way for a moment. Then they bowed their heads again.

  Whatever news Deacon Phillips brought must be born with faith and hope in the Lord. This she knew, but the weight from tragedy again pressed hard on her shoulders. Miriam sagged and sat on the porch.

  Uncle William took a step toward her, followed by Deacon Phillips. The two men stopped in front of her.

  Miriam looked up. “You’d best tell me.” Miriam’s voice cracked. “I know something terrible has happened by the looks on your faces.”

  Deacon Phillips cleared his throat. “I wish I were not the one to bring you such news, Miriam.”

  “Please tell me.” Miriam searched the deacon’s face.

  “The Yutzy place was hit hard, Miriam. As you know, only Wayne and Joy were at home. They were found this morning. Their Englisha neighbors went over and discovered their bodies several hundred yards from the house. Wayne was still alive, but he passed to the next life on the ride to the hospital in the ambulance. Joy was already gone when they found her.” Deacon Phillips paused for a moment. “I am so sorry, Miriam. My heart is too broken for words, and yet I had to come to tell you.”

  “You did no wrong.” Miriam’s head and heart were spinning as she clutched the edge of the step for balance. “He’s gone? Wayne is gone?” Miriam sobbed. She tried to collect herself. “They must have been trying to bring in the horses.”

  “No one will ever know what happened, Miriam.” Deacon Phillips hesitated. “You must not trouble yourself with the whys of this tragedy.”

  “He is right,” Uncle William said. Then he walked past Miriam and went into the house.

  The deacon cleared his throat several times as Miriam’s sobs increased. He finally reached out and touched her hand.

  Miriam let go of the step and grasped his hand. They were in this awkward position when Aunt Fannie ran through the front doorway and wrapped Miriam in her arms.

  “He’s gone,” Miriam wailed. “He’s gone, Aunt Fannie!”

  “I’m so sorry.” Aunt Fannie held Miriam tightly. “Oh, you poor dear.”

  Miriam took a deep breath. “I want to go see him. I want to go to him right now.”

  “You can’t,” Deacon Phillip protested.

  “Why not?” Miriam searched the deacon’s face again.

  Deacon Phillips stared at the ground before finally looking up. “Miriam, the funeral will be closed caskets for both of them. They were severely injured in the storm. Do not see him like this. You want to remember him as you do now. The Lord has done what He thought best, and we won’t always be able to understand.”

  “I will see Wayne.” Miriam stood. She placed a trembling hand on Aunt Fannie’s shoulder. “I was promised to him.”

  “She shouldn’t do this, William.” Deacon Phillips glanced at Uncle William for support.

  Uncle William shrugged. “You are the deacon, but if Miriam wishes, I won’t disallow it.”

  “I agree,” Aunt Fannie said.

  Deacon Phillips hesitated before he said, “The bodies were taken to a mortuary in Coalgate. They’ll probably be taken to Raymond Yutzy’s house. That is where the funeral will be held. Wayne and Joy’s parents are on their way back from Possum Valley this morning. Your parents are coming with them, Miriam. They will be driving straight through the night, I’m thinking. The van driver will have to sleep sometime, but they should be here in less than forty-eight hours.”

  Uncle William nodded.

  Silence fell over the four of them. Miriam’s sobs had ceased, though her heart still screamed. Numbness was creeping through her body. How could this be? How could the Lord have taken Wayne? After all they’d been through? The man who had loved her despite her faults. The man who didn’t care that she’d inherited a farm and money. Despair rose in her throat, and this time Miriam couldn’t hold it back. The mournful sound traveled across the lawn and over the mangled forms of the timber that had once been Uncle William’s greenhouse. It could be rebuilt, but Wayne’s torn body would never be repaired. Miriam sobbed and allowed her body to sag. Aunt Fannie caught her before she hit the floor.

  Deacon Phillips and Uncle William waited until she had calmed before they turned to walk toward the deacon’s buggy. Aunt Fannie sat down on the porch and gently rocked Miriam in her arms as if she were baby Jonathon. Miriam didn’t object as the now-quiet sobs moved through her body in slow convulsions. Deeper emotions than she could express tore at her spirit. Wayne was gone. This she would never understand or comprehend. Why had the Lord done this to her? Had she sinned?

  Aunt Fannie seemed to read her thoughts. She whispered in Miriam’s ear, “This is not a time for condemnation or judgment, dear. Remember what William said last night.”

  Miriam remained silent, but Aunt Fannie’s words did bring some relief. If Miriam searched her heart and heaped on blame on top of everything else this morning, she would go mad. Then a thought niggled at Miriam. She waited for a few moments getting used to the idea. “Mamm never got to see Wayne like he was—alive, vibrant, loving. I’m glad in a way, I guess, about the closed casket. I wouldn’t want Mamm to see him in any other way.”

  Aunt Fannie pulled Miriam close for another tight hug. “I’m so sorry. You should eat something before you go. You’ll need your strength.”

  Miriam stifled her protest. She couldn’t possibly stand to eat at the moment, even though she knew Aunt Fannie was right. Life did go on, and she must travel with it. “Maybe later,” Miriam promised.

  Aunt Fannie took Miriam’s hand and led her inside. Uncle William and Deacon Phillips came in through the washroom door and seated themselves.

  Miriam didn’t remember Aunt Fannie calling them to breakfast, but maybe that wasn’t so surprising. Her ears buzzed with each step, and the usually quiet house seemed to drone on and on and on.

  Aunt Fannie helped Miriam into a kitchen chair and seated herself next to her. Across the table, Uncle William and Deacon Phillips bowed their heads. Miriam followed their example. She couldn’t eat, but prayer was needed…desperately needed. Her sobs came again as Uncle William prayed aloud:

  Oh, God, the great Ruler of heaven and earth. Our hearts cry out to You this morning in our great sorrow. We do not understand Your ways or the choices You have made. Be with us. Let not bitterness take root in our hearts. Give strength to Miriam this morning and in the days ahead. Quiet the pain in her heart as she lives through these next few hours and days. Carry her in Your loving arms. You have given us so much good in life, and now that evil has come, let us not question the mercy of Your hand.

  Oh Mighty One, You’ve given us Jesus, Your only begotten Son, for our redemption and for our peace. We shall never know the sorrow You felt when Christ cried out on that cruel cross, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” We shall never be forsaken, regardless of the dark valleys we walk throug
h or the depths to which our human spirits plunge. For this we give You thanks for the hollow of Your hand that hides us in these troubled times.

  Miriam pressed Aunt Fannie’s handkerchief against her face as Uncle William continued with his prayer of thanksgiving for the food. She couldn’t listen any longer or hear the words even if she wanted to. The noise in her head was too loud. The Lord would understand. Was He not the God of compassion and mercy? Had He not given her Wayne’s love in the first place? She would trust Him. The One who gave also had the right to take away.

  “Come, you must eat,” Aunt Fannie’s voice whispered in Miriam’s ear. The prayer had finished apparently. Uncle William and Deacon Phillips’s voices were hushed as they made plans for the day. A spoon touched her lips, and Miriam automatically opened her mouth. She was like baby Jonathon right now, helpless and unable to fend for herself. No one seemed to think this strange. She swallowed.

  After a few more bites, Aunt Fannie pressed the spoon into Miriam’s hand. “I’m sorry, but you must eat.”

  Miriam obeyed until the bowl was empty. It seemed so wrong. How could her body accept nourishment when Wayne was gone? Yet life stirred around her. The Lord still lived, and so did she. She would have to face the world.

  “That’s a good girl,” Aunt Fannie said quietly. “Are you ready to go now?”

  Miriam didn’t answer, but stood up from the table. Uncle William and Deacon Phillips had gone. She hadn’t noticed their departure. Baby Jonathon was in Aunt Fannie’s arms, and he smiled at her.

  “The breakfast dishes…” Miriam said. “We can’t leave them.”

  Aunt Fannie didn’t answer, but she gripped Miriam’s arm to steer her outside. Uncle William waited with Sally and the buggy. Aunt Fannie handed baby Jonathon up to him, and then she turned to help Miriam into the back. Miriam didn’t resist. She settled into the buggy seat with slow motions. Her whole body ached. The drive over to the Yutzy place was a blur of motion outside the buggy door and the soft beats of Sally’s hooves on dirt roads. Aunt Fannie helped Miriam out again when they arrived, and from there into the house.