by Sarah Price
After the church leaders assumed their positions, the women filed into the room and sat down, chair legs and benches scraping on the hardwood floor. Once they were settled, the men entered the house. Grace scanned the line, looking for Menno. When she finally saw him, she noticed that he stared straight ahead, not glancing in her direction. The serious expression on his face startled her. Where was the Menno Beiler who charmed her with his smile and sparkling green eyes? Instead, he never once looked in her direction as he sat down among the other unmarried but baptized men.
After everyone was seated, the men removed their black hats, leaning forward to slip them under their chair or bench. A long moment of silence followed, and then the gentle voice of the vorsinger began to sing the first note of the opening hymn. Grace joined the other members as they sang along, some members singing from memory while others, like Grace, glanced down at the hymnal for reference.
After the second sermon the bishop stood before the congregation and asked the three young adults who were to be baptized to come forward and follow him to another room. It would be the last time he would give them instructions about the lifelong commitment they were taking. Should any baptized member decide to leave the religion, he would be shunned and unable to live among the Amish or speak with his family again. If a baptized member broke one of the rules, the same would apply: shunning. All baptized members vowed to live a Plain lifestyle and to reject conformity to the outside world.
For Grace, taking the vow had been an easy choice.
After this last instructional the bishop indicated that it was time for the baptism. Covering their faces with their hands as a sign of humility, those being baptized followed the bishop as he returned to the worship room. Grace managed to peek through her fingers so she could see where she was walking. She noticed her mother watching her, the first indication of any sort of pride from her family.
The three baptismal candidates stood before the bishop, their hands still covering their faces. After a lengthy pause, the bishop spoke, telling the story of Paul baptizing an Ethiopian. It was the same sermon that had been given to generations before and would be given to generations after these candidates had been baptized. Yet Grace felt the power of the bishop’s words. For her, it was the first time she had heard them. She imagined she would hear them many more times over the years, but for today, she absorbed each word in a way that gave new meaning to the passage.
When the short sermon was over, the bishop cleared his throat. “If you are still intent on taking this baptism,” he said, “then I ask you to kneel before me. If, however, you have any doubts, this is the time to speak up.”
There was a lengthy pause.
No one spoke.
“In Matthew 6, the Savior says that no one can serve two masters. Anyone who tries to do so will hate the one and love the other, or he will cling to the one and despise the other.” A moment of silence followed, just enough time for Grace to think about the Englischers’ love of money and how it often created a wedge between them and God.
The bishop continued.
“You are now asked if you are willing to renounce Satan and all of his followers, the dark kingdom filled with deceitful and worldly riches,” he said as he stood before the baptism candidates. “To renounce your own carnal and selfish will, lusts, and affections. In doing so, you pledge yourself to be faithful to God, to receive the Savior, Jesus Christ, and to allow yourself to live a life that is led by the Holy Spirit in all obedience to the truth and to remain in this unto death.” He paused before he added a simple question, “Can you acknowledge this with a yes?”
Grace nodded her head and whispered, “Yes.”
She heard the other two candidates do the same.
“Then speak the confession of faith,” the bishop commanded.
Grace had practiced it so much that she knew it by heart. But words escaped her. For a moment, she wondered if the other two had forgotten the words too. And then, in a moment of clarity, she remembered.
“I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God,” she said softly and heard the others join her. It was easier to remember the words when they said them in unison.
Grace felt someone removing the pins from her prayer kapp: the bishop’s wife.
“I pray that you will be worthy of God’s grace as members of the church,” the bishop said. She heard the sound of water as the bishop baptized the person next to her. Then it was her turn.
“Grace Mast, upon your confessed faith, you are baptized in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit,” he proclaimed. She heard the soft noise of the bishop’s fingers dipping into a bowl of water and felt sprinkles of water on her bare head. “Whoever believes and is baptized shall be saved. Amen.”
She felt a hand gently remove her own from covering her face and then touch her shoulders, an indication that she should open her eyes and stand. The bishop’s wife stood before her and gave her a holy kiss.
Her baptism was over.
She was now officially Amish, not just by birth, but by choice.
When instructed, she returned to her spot. No one said anything to her. She glanced at her mother and noticed that her eyes appeared glassy: the second sign of pride. Knowing that her mother was touched by Grace’s baptism made her feel better. Despite his disappearance, Benny hadn’t ruined the entire day.
The thought of Benny made her reach into her pocket and touch the handkerchief. She had brought it with her, just in case she became emotional. It comforted her to have it with her as she thought of one day seeing Benny and later Anna Mae take their own baptismal vows.
The final hymn began, and Grace let her voice join the others as they sang:
Eternal Father in the kingdom of heaven
Who rules eternally,
From beginning unto the end,
Who loves us altogether
And gave for us in death
His most beloved Son,
Who deemed us all,
Those who truly know Him,
Yes, who now want to follow Him
By whom we name ourselves,
He alone is the eternal comfort,
Who now builds on Him
Will be delivered from hell.
It is truly a narrow way,
Who now wants to go this heavenly path,
He must surely keep himself
That he does not stumble on the path,
Through affliction, misery, anxiety, and need,
Love must not wax cold.
He must completely depend
On God, wholly trusting in Him.
The Scriptures show clearly and plainly,
Upon God shall man securely build,
He is the rock, cornerstone and foundation,
Whoever builds a house on Him,
No wind will blow it down.
After the rest of the worship service, Grace immediately began helping the other women with preparing the trays of food. There was no chance to interact with Menno, for he was busy helping the men convert the benches to tables for the fellowship meal. But she did steal a glance toward him once or twice. He still looked very somber, and for the briefest of moments, she wondered if he might have changed his mind about marrying her.
Someone touched her arm. “Congratulations,” Hannah Yoder whispered to her. She had been baptized the year before and knew how apprehensive Grace had felt.
In response, Grace merely smiled.
“I liked that song they sang at the end of service,” Hannah said as she helped Grace set the table with plates, cups, and saucers. “It was different from the one they sang at my baptism.”
“Oh?” Grace wouldn’t know the difference since she had never attended a baptism prior to today. “I wasn’t familiar with it,” Grace confided. But she had liked the words. God was the rock, cornerstone, and foundation of her life. The vow of baptism signified her belief in that truth.
Hannah looked over her shoulder and saw her brother walk by. “David? What
was that last song?”
“Eh?”
Hannah frowned. “The last song that they sang today. It was beautiful.”
“Ach, ja,” David said, understanding the question at last. He was a very devout young man and could always be counted on to know answers to questions related to the Bible and the Ausbund. Why, Grace wouldn’t be surprised if one day he was nominated as a church leader. “That song was written in the year 1530,” David Yoder said. “It’s Song 51 in the Ausbund.”
With that, David left their side and joined a group of young men while Hannah and Grace quickly finished setting the table. Without the other young women at the service, there was more work for them to do. But Grace didn’t mind. She wasn’t thinking about work but about the beautiful words that had been sung. Song 51, she repeated to herself, making a special mental note to look it up at home so she could memorize those words and sing them in her head forever.
2015
During most of the worship service, Grace could think of nothing else but the note she had placed in her pocket. With the exception of Bishop Yoder and his sister, Hannah Esh, no one from her current g’may had attended her baptism. In keeping with her outgoing personality, Lizzie, the bishop’s wife, was not one to keep secrets. As for her husband, Bishop Yoder was not one to participate in such trifling games as secret sister. The thought of his doing so almost made her smile. That left the distinct possibility—perhaps the only one!—that Hannah Esh was the secret sister. But how could she have remembered that detail, the particular hymn sung at her baptism, when it had happened so long ago, especially when Grace herself hadn’t thought of that song for a long, long time?
Fifty years had passed since her baptism. So much had happened during that period of time! Her eyes wandered to where Rose King stood. In just a few short weeks, Rose King would become Rose Miller, and so would begin a new journey in her young life, a journey filled with trials and tribulations that the young woman certainly could not predict.
Grace sighed as she thought back over the past fifty years. The years had brought trials and tribulations, yes, but always during the hard times, Menno had stood by her side. She depended on him for strength and support. Now he was gone. With wedding season and then Thanksgiving and Christmas coming up, she missed him more than ever. Often she wondered how she would get through the holidays alone.
But then she remembered the line in Song 51: He must completely depend on God, wholly trusting in Him. That was the ultimate purpose of baptism, of committing to the g’may. She admitted that she had spent her life depending to a great degree on Menno. Now she had to learn to depend on God alone. Faith and devotion to God would get her through anything, and as long as she leaned on God, she wasn’t really alone.
She wondered how her secret sister knew about the significance Song 51 held for her. Even more important, Grace wondered how her secret sister knew that she needed to be reminded to trust in God.
For the past few months, Grace had remained stoic in her mourning, trying hard to keep her emotions and despair to herself. She knew the consequence of mourning publicly for too long and didn’t want to replicate her parents’ mistake. But inside, she worried that she wouldn’t make it through the holidays without Menno by her side.
When the bishop indicated it was time for the final prayer, Grace quickly followed the others and knelt with her hands covering her face and her forehead bent down toward the seat of her chair. She prayed her gratitude that someone had shown enough interest in her to send her a reminder, that simple slip of paper with those words gracefully written upon it: Song 51. No matter how bleak her future looked, Grace knew that with God as her foundation, she could survive.
The reminder was well timed and much appreciated.
When it was time for everyone to rise, she discreetly reached into her pocket and touched the piece of paper. Warmth spread throughout her body, and she smiled as she realized that her secret sister was telling her that everything would be all right as long as she trusted in God.
CHAPTER FIVE
November 2015
THE NEXT FEW weeks seemed to drag for Grace. She knew that many of the women in the g’may were busy helping others with preparations for upcoming weddings. Usually there would be two or three weddings in each g’may with a few others in adjacent communities. This year, she was invited to only one wedding in her g’may: Melvin Miller to Rose King. Outside of her g’may, Esther Wagler had invited her to attend the wedding of Daniel and Beth Ann. But Beth Ann’s g’may was too far away, and Grace did not have a ride, as she reluctantly explained in her letter to Esther.
So while others were busy helping prepare food for the weekly events, Grace sat alone in the house, watching the world through her front window. An arctic blast from the north seemed to hover over the area, and she convinced herself she was almost glad she didn’t have to leave the house. But deep down she knew it wasn’t true. Early in the morning, she watched the buggies travel in different directions, and on Tuesday and Thursday, she knew where they were headed: to a wedding.
Grace tried to focus on positive things: Winter, the holidays, and her loneliness would end when the warmer weather returned. She would be able to garden and spend time outside, visiting with people who went out for early evening walks. Everyone always seemed much more social in the warmer weather, especially with the longer days.
To keep herself preoccupied, she focused on crocheting gifts for people for Christmas. For the children at the schoolhouse, she crocheted little bookmarks they could use in their devotionals. She chose remnant yarn that she had in a big box in the spare room. A few years back, Menno had tried to clean up that room, organize it, and turn it into a craft room for her. A place for her to sew or quilt or crochet. But then he had fallen ill, and a disorganized room used strictly for storage seemed suddenly very unimportant.
When Grace finished making the bookmarks, she decided to crochet dish towels for the women in the g’may. Though they didn’t usually exchange gifts, the focus of the holidays being on Christ and not gifts, Grace hoped she might have an opportunity to visit with more families after Second Christmas in January. Once the long stretch of January and February loomed ahead, with no more holidays or weddings on the calendar, she might get more invitations to her friends’ houses. It would be right gut to have something to give to the women, a small token to express her appreciation for their kindness.
On the Wednesday before Melvin and Rose’s wedding, Grace bundled up to brave the cold on her daily walk to the mailbox. She wanted to collect yesterday’s mail and put out her own letters for the postal worker to retrieve. When she pulled down the front of the mailbox and started to place her two letters inside, she noticed a letter inside the mailbox waiting for her. Surprised, she reached for it. It was a small white envelope, and she turned it over to look at the return address.
Her breath caught at the familiarity of the street name: it was her own farm in Ephrata. Ivan, she thought. He wrote to me at last! Feeling like a giddy child, she quickly placed the two outgoing letters in the box, shut the lid, and hurried back toward the house. When she realized that she had forgotten to put up the red flag on the mailbox, she retraced her steps and pushed it up.
Back inside her house, the warm temperature immediately took the chill off her skin. She forced herself to calm down as she hung up her old coat and hurried into the sitting room. The light from the window was still strong enough to allow her to read the letter from her recliner, although she needed her glasses to properly decipher the small handwriting.
She smiled, enjoying the anticipation of reading Ivan’s news. She made certain to write to both Linda and Ivan at least once a week. Yet it had been quite some time since either of them had responded. Even then, the letters were brief and not much more than a list of updates, nothing personal and certainly no inquiries into how Grace was faring. Though she knew they were busy, it still hurt that her own children didn’t seem to realize how much she missed Menno and how the upc
oming holidays made her feel like a heavy weight was pressed against her chest.
Settling into her recliner, she reached for her glasses and braced herself for the contents of the letter. She used her letter opener to slice open the top of the envelope and then removed the single sheet of paper from within it.
Maem,
Danke for your letters. Jane keeps reminding me to write back. With the short days and extra amount of work on the farm, there seems to be no time to finish everything. Levi has been a great help around the farm. Jane has been keeping busy with all the baking for the weddings: six in all between her family and our g’may. Active season this year. Lydia has been helping with the baking, which has been much appreciated by Jane.
I’m glad you’ll be sharing Thanksgiving with James and Hannah Esh and her family. We intend to visit with Jane’s sister in Pequea. But I’ve scheduled a driver for December 18th so that we can come to have supper with you. Will just be Jane and me with the younger kinner.
Your son, Ivan
Grace stared at the piece of paper and tried to digest the contents. Simple. Direct. Brief. He hadn’t even asked after her or wished her God’s blessing. She tried to remember if he always had been that way, cold and distant, or if everything had changed after Susan left.
Setting the letter on the table, she glanced at the small trifold calendar. Her eyes fell upon November. Next week was Thanksgiving and it fell on November 26th. It seemed that the month had dragged on for quite a long time. She was looking forward to December and the upcoming children’s pageant along with the worship service before Christmas.
The children’s pageant!
Grace reached for the calendar and flipped the page so that she could look at December. Sure enough, December 18 was a Friday, the day of the Christmas program at the school. She couldn’t miss that! She had already made little gifts for the children, her crocheted bookmarks. Yet how could she possibly write back to Ivan and ask him to reschedule his driver? She felt so happy that he had written to her in the first place, never mind that he was coming to visit.