by Sarah Price
“Hey Daddy!”
Elizabeth frowned as Kelly approached and, with a big smile on her face, leaned forward to kiss Carl on the cheek.
“Kelly, this is Just Elizabeth,”he said cheerfully, his arm around his daughter’s waist, as he introduced Elizabeth.
There was an obvious closeness between the two, one that reminded her of how much she longed for a similar relationship with her own daughter. Kelly leaned against her father, smiling as she reached out her hand at the introduction.
Again, Elizabeth was taken aback by how much the daughter favored Carl in appearance.“My word,”she said, accepting Kelly’s hand to shake. She looked at Carl.“I’m beginning to think this town should be called Carlstown, not Berlin!”
“This is it, I promise,”he laughed, squeezing Kelly one last time before he kissed the side of her head.“Just the two of them.”He gave Kelly a final hug.“And that’s good enough for me.”
“You two have met before?”The quizzical look on Kelly’s face indicated that she had picked up on Elizabeth’s accent, one that was not from Holmes County.
“Are you kidding?”Carl let his arm drop from around his daughter’s waist.“We’re old friends from way back when.”
“Oh Daddy!”It was clear that Carl had a warm and close relationship with his daughter. Elizabeth felt a pang in her heart, a momentary wave of envy for the loss of her own relationship with her children. Here was a man, a widower like her, with two children that obviously adored him. While it was nice to see someone else so obviously enjoying the bonds of family, she wondered where she had gone wrong. She had never experienced such closeness with her children, not even when they were younger.
Shifting the book in her arm, Elizabeth glanced toward the register.“Well, I suppose I should be going,”she said, not wanting to leave but also not wanting to stay.
“Let me get that for you,”he said, reaching out for the book.“A welcome to Berlin gift.”
A gift? From a stranger? That was something she couldn’t accept. After all, he had refused to let her pay for the meal the previous day.“That’s most kind, Carl, but I simply could not.”She handed the book to his daughter.“I’m sure I’ll be back in no time,”she said, as a way to change the subject from Carl’s generosity to a new and safer topic.“You certainly have plenty of good books to keep me occupied for the next month.”
Kelly took the book from Elizabeth and headed toward the counter.“You should like this one,”she said as she examined the cover.“One of my favorites. It’s amazing where God leads us. The places He takes us during our earthly journey, don’t you think?”She didn’t wait for an answer as she rang up the sale.“Sometimes you wonder how you will ever survive a situation only to find out that God’s plans truly have a greater glory in the end. Something you just couldn’t imagine.”
It was true, though, and Kelly’s words struck Elizabeth as being especially profound. God led His people down many winding and previously untraveled roads, at least for the individual. Many women stood in Elizabeth’s shoes, experiencing the pain of unexpected loss. Some survived better than others, no doubt. Now, it was just up to Elizabeth to decide which path she would take…the one to life regained or one that eventually placed her in that blue vinyl recliner, watching television as her daily activity.
“I do,”she heard herself say as she handed Kelly a ten dollar bill in exchange for the package.“I most certainly do.”
Accepting her change, Elizabeth dropped the four coins into her purse and lifted the small package into the air as a way of thanking both Kelly and Carl.“Nice to meet you, Kelly.”Her eyes turned toward Carl.“And thank you again for your help yesterday.”
He bowed, just slightly, in acknowledgement.
She knew that she still had to stop at the market for groceries so she quickly slipped out the door and hurried to her car. She noticed that Carl stood by the front door of the bookstore, watching as she pulled away from the curb. He lifted his hand and waved, a faraway look on his face as he watched. For the briefest of moments, she wondered what he was thinking, but, just as quickly, she shoved the thought out of her mind. It was none of her business and, as such, should be equally none of her concern.
Still, as hard as she tried, it was near impossible to completely ignore the memory of Carl’s look on his face when he answered her question with a mysterious‘Unfortunately I do.’She suspected, all too well, that she knew what he meant.
Whatever had happened to him, she knew it must have been painful. Her heart broke for him for his loss, whatever it was. A spouse? A parent? It wasn’t her place to inquire further. She hardly knew the man beyond two short conversations so she hadn’t pressed him for more details.
Still, despite empathizing with him, she felt the pangs of jealousy over the relationship he clearly had with both of his children, something she knew she’d never experience. If she had only had such a bond with her children, she thought as she headed to the grocery store, perhaps it would be easier to heal.
CHAPTER 7
Walking along a path through the trees, Elizabeth zipped up her coat so that her neck wasn't exposed. Over the past few days, the wind had picked up and, with it, temperatures dropped sharply, hinting at the upcoming winter months. Still, she much preferred the cold weather to the heat of summer. She liked listening to the rustle of leaves on the trees and seeing the squirrels scurry across her path as she walked.
Without her even realizing it, a new routine began to emerge during her stay at the Troyers’cottage. Every morning, she awoke to the noise of the cows being let into the paddock after the morning milking. She’d linger in bed, an arm thrown over her forehead as she tried to sort her thoughts before beginning the day. After she made her morning coffee, she sat at the table and read her Bible. She was re-reading Proverbs, her favorite book of the Bible with the exception of Psalms.
By ten o’clock, she would take her daily walk. She found a wonderful little trail that went behind her house and through the woods. After crossing a stream, the water rushing over rocks and overturned tree stumps. An old plank bridge crossed the stream and, as she walked over it, she felt the boards shifting under her weight.
The road continued, winding around a corner and connecting with a wider dirt road, one that she imagined the Troyer men used for cutting the massive trees that grew in the forest. Only once did she see the Belgian mules hauling large trees down the path toward the mill.
On her third day at the Troyers, she learned that the lumber mill was only part of the activities that supported the family. She ran into Katie, Elijah’s wife, on her way back from her walk. Katie lived in the main house and, after introducing herself, she invited Elizabeth inside for a short visit.
A cheerful young woman, Katie bustled about the kitchen, working as she talked. The mother of seven children with one clearly on the way, Katie had her work cut out for her. Between cooking, cleaning, and laundry, it was a wonder that she had any time to visit. Elizabeth noticed that the kitchen was not as orderly as she would have thought, especially given how Amish women were known to be so fastidious about cleanliness.
With her youngest son, Ben, napping on the sofa, Katie wasted no time to start washing the morning dishes as she explained how the fields in the front of the house, those that lined the dirt road off of OH 634 were owned by the Troyers. Nearby, one of Mary’s brothers lived, his farm just adjacent to the Troyers. Apparently, Mary Troyer had not traveled farm from home when she married John.
During the growing season, the Troyers did plant crops in their fields. But the bulk of their income came from lumber.
Apparently, the lumber mill operated throughout the year but the majority of the trees were cut for milling during the colder months when the leaves had already fallen. In addition, the Troyers cut trees from other people’s properties, hauling off the wood to either chop for burning or, if in proper shape, to be cut into limber.
It was a fascinating operation and Elizabeth found herself respectf
ul of the work ethics of John and his sons. Not one second of the day was wasted on any activity that did not provide for the families. There were no distractions from television, telephones, or computers. Yet, with all of that hard labor, they still found time to laugh and enjoy themselves.
During that first week, when she returned from her daily walks in the morning, Elizabeth often slipped into her car and drove away, exploring the back roads of Mount Hope and the surrounding towns. She found wonderful stores to purchase more cross-stitch supplies, including a larger hoop for embroidering table linens. She often stopped at small restaurants that she stumbled across during her drives before she returned to the cottage. When the skies began to darken, she would put away her cross-stitching and begin to prepare a light supper. Then, when she had finished eating and cleaned the plates, she would light the kerosene lantern and curl up on the sofa with her book.
It was a similar routine as what she had at Nottingham, yet, there was something refreshingly different about it.
“It’s a new place, new environment, Mom,”Sophia sighed into the phone when Elizabeth called her on Friday.“Different is good. It’s about time you tried it.”
“Well, I thought you’d be curious to know how I’m faring,”Elizabeth retorted, more than a little hurt at the lack of interest in her daughter’s voice. She simply could not imagine Mary’s daughters speaking to her in such a manner. For a moment, the memory of Kelly hugging Carl at the bookstore came to mind.“Even if you faked interest, that would be a welcome change.”
“Geez, Mom. Stand down a bit, okay?”
Holding the cell phone away from her head, Elizabeth stared at it. Since when had Sophia taken to speaking like that to her? Disappointed, Elizabeth bit her tongue and tried again.“Everything going well?”
She thought she heard papers ruffling in the background and fought the urge to roll her eyes. Clearly her call to Sophia had interrupted her and, knowing Sophia, the interruption was not as important as her work.“Of course, Mother.”The way Sophia said the word mother irritated Elizabeth. Why couldn’t her children, especially Sophia, talk to her with a little more respect? What had she done to deserve such treatment? “Look, I’ll give you a call later.”
“Today?”
Sophia sighed.“No, Mom. Later this week, okay?”
When Elizabeth clicked the END button on her phone, she tossed it onto the counter and turned around, disgusted. It was an emotion she hadn’t felt before, or, rather, admitted to feeling. When had Sophia turned into such an independent, headstrong woman? When had Elizabeth lost touch with her?
“Knock, knock!”
Elizabeth heard the muffled voice through the closed door and, knowing that it was Mary, she hurried to open it.“Come in out of the cold!”she said as she swung open the door and stepped backward.“Such a chill in the air this morning!”
Mary shrugged her shoulders, just a little, so that her black shawl slid off and she hung it on a peg next to the door.“No more than usual for October, I reckon.”She handed Elizabeth an envelope and what looked like a wrapped loaf of bread.“I trust you like zucchini nut bread, ja?”
“Only if you share it with me,”Elizabeth replied, grateful for the company. The phone call with Sophia had left her feeling alone and, even worse, lonely for some companionship.
“Why, that sounds right nice, then!”Mary didn’t need to be shown into the house. She felt comfortable walking right over to the table and occupying a seat.“Haven’t seen much of you since you arrived. And then you received that letter. Thought I’d check up on you.”She tried not to smile.“Make certain you weren’t throwing any wild Englische parties back here!”
“Oh heavens no!”Elizabeth laughed at the thought.
“So are you finding things all right, then?”Mary asked.
“I am.”
“Cows not waking you too early?”
Elizabeth gestured toward the coffee pot on the stove but Mary shook her head.“They are the perfect alarm clock,”she said, pouring herself a cup. She poured some milk into the mug before spooning in one teaspoon of sugar, the raw brown kind. It had taken her a while to get used to it but she had acquired a taste for it, especially after her bout with cancer.
Before she joined Mary at the table, she unwrapped the zucchini nut bread and sliced it into eight equal pieces. She set the plate down in the center of the table and quickly retrieved two smaller plates for serving. Mary seemed amused with the ease Elizabeth moved around the kitchen.
“Why, you look right at home now, don’t you?”
Elizabeth paused. She felt at home, although that wasn’t something she was about to admit to her children. Not that they cared, she thought bitterly. Neither child had contacted her since she had left. Instead, the phone seemed to only work one way: her calling them.“I do feel at home here, Mary,”Elizabeth finally replied as she sat down across from the older woman.“It’s just a different pace of life here.”
“Um hmm.”She nodded her head in agreement.
“I mean, it’s not like I’m doing anything different than when I was at Nottingham, I suppose.”She reached for a piece of the bread, setting it on the smaller plate and breaking off a piece. It was so fresh that it was still warm from baking in the oven earlier that morning.“I can’t quite put my finger on it, Mary. I just feel as if William approves of this.”
“Your husband, ja?”
Elizabeth nodded.“Yes, my husband.”
Mary sighed as she reached for her own piece of the bread.“I imagine he does approve, being that you are feeling better and all.”She popped a piece of the bread into her mouth.“That’s all God wants for us. To be happy during our time here on Earth. But, even if we aren’t, at least we know a treasure awaits us in heaven.”She shut her eyes.“That is my favorite recipe,”she said, more to herself than to Elizabeth.
“I’ll have to reciprocate some time. Make you some blueberry muffins. My William loves them.”Present tense. Realizing her error, she exhaled softly.“Well, loved them anyway. They were his favorite.”
Mary seemed to study her for a moment, as if thinking about something that she wanted to ask but didn’t quite have the nerve to do so. There was something youthful about this Amish woman, an inquisitive nature that certainly knocked down the stereotype of Amish women. From what little Elizabeth knew of her, she wasn’t dowdy or solemn. Instead, she lightened the room whenever she walked into it, her eyes sparkling and her energy contagious.
“What is it, Mary? You can ask me.”
“Ja vell,”she looked down at her plate and pushed it in a circle, just a little.“It’s none of my business…”
“Go on,”Elizabeth coaxed.
Mary looked up, her eyes wide and full of intrigue.“Why did you come to Mount Hope, Lizzy, instead of going to stay with your kinner?”
“My kinner?”
“Your children.”
And there was the million-dollar question. If only Elizabeth had a good answer, she would have given it to Mary.“I guess it’s just different in my culture,”she tried to explain. She wasn’t certain that was the truth so she tried again.“My family isn’t like your family.”
“How so?”
Elizabeth squirmed in her seat, not certain how to explain this to Mary. How could she explain that, in the Englische culture, families grew apart? When children married, they started their own families instead of expanding the existing ones. Young couples wanted to have their own homes, not live with aging parents. The entire concept, which seemed so natural to Elizabeth, now felt so horrid and self-serving.“When our children grow up, they move away. I guess like a mother bird pushing the little ones out of the nest.”
Mary clicked her tongue and shook her head.“Not gut,”she said.“Not gutat all.”
She suddenly felt as if she had to justify her children’s choices.“I mean they still stay in contact and all…”
But it was clear that Mary didn’t buy it. For a moment, Elizabeth felt the color rush to her chee
ks. Looking at her situation through Mary’s aging eyes, things became clearer. Sophia and Ryan hadn’t merely moved away to start new lives; they moved away because they no longer needed her. Her job was finished. The realization hit her that, when she left the little cottage, she would return to an empty house, filled to the brim with memories that would be her only companion until she, too, left this world. The thought depressed her.
Mary stared at Elizabeth and, as if reading her mind, merely said,“I’d be lost if my kinnermoved away.”
Lost. That was exactly how Elizabeth felt. It dawned on her that she was not so very different from Mary after all. They were both mothers, regardless of the culture in which they raised their children. The main difference was that Mary’s community embraced children remaining nearby the parents while Elizabeth’s encouraged independence which often meant leaving the mother bird’s nest.
A silence fell between the two women, but it was not an uncomfortable silence. Instead, it was one that commanded contemplation and reflection. The contrast of their cultures might set them apart, yet they both knew enough to respect the differences.
Elizabeth knew enough about the Amish to understand that, while the culture and religion might be idealized by the media, they were people first and, as such, needed to be accepted as individuals and not just a collective group. Even though Mary might not be able to imagine her kinner moving away, that didn’t mean that another family didn’t live further apart. Likewise, just as Elizabeth did not have a close relationship with her children, that didn’t translate into a blanket norm for all Englischers.
Choices, she thought. It all comes down to choices in our lives. And she knew the choice that had made the difference in hers.
Her thoughts were interrupted when Mary spoke again.“Family is meant to stay together. God wants it that way. Even Jesus offered John as a substitute son to His mother as He hung on the cross. We have a familial obligation to take care of each other.”