Secret Sister

by Sarah Price

  “Oh, help,” she muttered to herself, wringing her hands in her lap.

  She was still sitting there, pondering what to do, when she heard the door open. “Grace?” a voice called out.

  “In here, Hannah.”

  “There you are,” Hannah said cheerfully when she entered the sitting room. “I just heard from John David that he’s to be joining us next week for Thanksgiving! And Katie Sue with Mother too!” She laughed. “I just love the holidays, family coming together and all.” Sitting on the sofa next to the recliner, Hannah leaned back and sighed. “There’ll be so many children at the haus! It will feel so much more festive, don’t you think?”

  Grace didn’t feel much like visiting but certainly didn’t want to appear rude. “Oh ja, indeed,” she replied. Her voice lacked the same enthusiasm that Hannah had displayed. Grace glanced at her friend, and when she saw that Hannah had raised an eyebrow at her halfhearted response, she sighed. “I just received this letter from Ivan.” She reached for the letter and handed it to her neighbor. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Hannah squinted as she read the small, neat handwriting. Her eyes flickered back and forth while Grace watched. When Hannah looked up, handing the letter back, she shook her head. “What’s wrong with Ivan’s visiting you? It’s a wunderbaar gesture on his part,” she said, before adding, “It isn’t as if he’s been by as much as he ought.”

  “But the date!” Grace leaned forward and pointed at the date. “It’s the eighteenth of December! That’s the date of the children’s program.”

  “Ach, I see!”

  Everyone knew how much Grace enjoyed that program. Since moving into the little house with Menno, she hadn’t missed one performance, even though they had no grandchildren attending the school in Akron. Nor had she ever missed a pageant when they lived in Ephrata, even when her children were small and did not attend school yet.

  “Vell, let’s see,” Hannah said slowly, taking her time and drawing out each word. “Mayhaps you could borrow the Eshes’ phone and call him. Ivan has a phone in the dairy, ja?” Grace could sense the hesitation in her words. Though the Amish were not permitted phones in their houses, most farmers needed to have access to one in order to contact suppliers or receive orders for their goods. In years past, farmers shared a phone in a communal shack located nearby. Today, however, most farmers kept a phone in the barn. But to use a phone for such a personal issue would surely not be considered an emergency!

  “Oh,” Grace fretted. “I thought of that. I’m just fearful that it will give him a reason to back out of coming!”

  “Did he say what time he’d arrive, then?”

  She hadn’t thought about that. The children’s program was held during school hours. With Ivan and Jane bringing the younger kinner, they would have to wait until their own school was let out before they came over. Her eyes skimmed the letter once again and stopped when she saw the word “supper.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “Suppertime,” she said, lifting her hand to cover her mouth. She smiled apologetically, embarrassed at how she had reacted. “I hadn’t even thought of that! Danke, Hannah!”

  With a laugh, Hannah relaxed back into the sofa. “Ach, the holidays. Trying to see the different families can certainly be stressful. I understand your worry, Grace. I’d have reacted the same.” She sighed and shook her head. “Honestly, as the kinner grow and have their own families and now grandchildren having children, it’s near impossible to get everyone together at once for Christmas fellowship.”

  Grace didn’t want to think about Christmas. For the past few years, Menno had insisted that Ivan host an afternoon gathering, and although Grace welcomed the chance to see their grandchildren, conversations with Ivan were still strained. Grace wasn’t certain she could be so forceful, and Ivan’s letter hadn’t mentioned anything about a Christmas gathering. Without Menno to insist, Grace had doubts that Ivan would include her in his plans.

  “It sure will be nice to attend Melvin and Rose’s wedding tomorrow,” she said, changing the subject to one that was much more pleasing to her.

  “You’ll ride with us, then?” Hannah offered.

  Grace nodded. Thoughtful Hannah. Always considering Grace’s needs when it came to transportation. Truthfully, Grace had intended to hire a driver, but she felt relieved to not have to pay the fee. Many Mennonites and Englische offered their services to drive people to places that were too far for them to walk or drive a buggy. But they charged far too much money, sometimes a whole dollar per mile.

  “All right, then,” Hannah said. “I’d best get back home. James will be looking for me. So much to do, what with the wedding tomorrow and all.”

  As she shut the door behind Hannah, Grace paused. She felt conflicting emotions, a mixture of joy and dread. Oh, how she loved weddings! But this would be the first one she attended without Menno.

  Shutting her eyes, Grace remembered the day fifty years ago when she became Menno’s wife. Not once had she considered the fact that one day she might have to relinquish that precious role. Nor had she considered how lost she would feel without it.

  1965

  As the days before the wedding swiftly passed, Anna Mae commented on more than one occasion that Grace seemed “on the edge” and “nervous.” And indeed, Grace felt the fragility of her nerves, caught as she was between her own joy and her parents’ displeasure.

  Menno spent almost each evening in the kitchen, sitting at the table with her and Maem. They spent time making lists of whom to invite and writing out the invitations. It was Menno’s job to deliver the invitations while Maem focused on making Grace’s dress and deciding whom to put in charge of organizing the food.

  Whenever Menno arrived, Daed would quickly disappear, either into the bedroom or outside to linger in the barn until his future son-in-law left.

  On more than one occasion, Grace wanted to ask her mother why Daed was so persistent in his disapproval of Menno. However, she knew better than to ask that question. Since she was a little girl, she had been taught that questioning her parents about such issues was improper. She was asked to be very careful about using the simple question, “Why?” As an adult, she came to realize how well she had learned that lesson. She was too intimidated by her parents’ authority to ask such a simple question. By the end of today, however, she would answer to a different authority: Menno Beiler.

  After Barbara Beiler’s appearance at the house to help with quilting, Maem’s exterior wall slowly began to crumble. Both of Barbara’s daughters always accompanied her, and it was clear that the two of them were God-fearing and righteous, intent on walking with Jesus, even though they were not baptized members of the church yet. Still, there seemed to be some issue between her parents and Menno, except it was unilateral: from her parents toward him, not the other way around.

  Not once did Menno comment on it.

  He always arrived with a smile on his face, his hand extended in proper greeting to them.

  The previous two days had been especially stressful for Grace. The neighbors and her two older sisters had come over to help prepare the food. Even her father and brothers helped, perhaps the only event when men would work alongside women in the kitchen. Menno came during the midday, taking a break from his chores at his father’s farm, but there hadn’t been time to visit. Grace worked alongside the women who were making cheese and bread while Menno helped organize the benches in the large gathering room with Benny.

  There was no doubt about his work ethic: Menno knew what hard work was and did not try to shy away from his duties. A few times, Grace caught herself watching him, admiring how he interacted with Benny and Emanuel. If only her father could see what she saw, Grace thought with a heavy heart.

  He left in the late afternoon, smiling at Grace as he slipped out the door. Even though he was getting married in the morning, he still needed to help his father with the evening milking. It struck her that the next time she saw him—tomorrow morning—he’d be just moments away from becoming
her husband.

  She was mistaken.

  The clock had just struck eight when they heard a gentle knock at the door. With everything set up for the wedding the next day, the only place for the family to gather was the old farmer’s table in the kitchen. Daed had been reading the Bible while Maem checked through her lists to make certain she hadn’t forgotten anything. At the sound of the knock, everyone looked up in surprise. Anna Mae jumped up and hurried to the door.

  Grace caught her breath when Menno walked into the kitchen. He removed his hat and seemed nervous about something. For a moment of panic, she feared he had changed his mind. Something like that happened infrequently, but she knew it was not unheard of.

  “Might I have a word with you?” he asked, directing the question toward Grace’s father.

  Grace felt the color drain from her cheeks. Her mother immediately motioned for Anna Mae and Benny to leave the room. Slowly, they retreated upstairs. Even after they disappeared into the darkness on the second floor, Grace suspected they were listening at the top of the stairs.

  Menno paced the kitchen floor for a moment, his hands behind his back and a very serious expression on his face. Maem and Daed watched him, curious about the reason for such an unexpected visit on the night before his wedding. And his peculiar behavior only piqued their curiosity further.

  Finally, he stopped and turned to face them.

  “I would like you to pray for me,” he said, his eyes staring steadily at Grace’s father. “I would like you to pray for me that I am as good a husband, father, and, most importantly, Christian as you are.”

  Astonished, Grace almost spoke up, but she fought the urge to interrupt the moment. Clearly, this was important to Menno. Only once before had she noticed him in such a fervent state of religious reflection, and that was at her baptism.

  Clearing his throat, Daed frowned. “I am no more so than anyone else,” he said modestly.

  In a swift motion, Menno moved to the table and sat in the chair next to Daed’s. He reached for her father’s hand. “Nee,” he said earnestly. “Tomorrow, I am taking on the responsibility of caring for your dochder, and I ask for you to pray for me. It is important to me.”

  There was nothing Daed could say to that. How could he deny such a request? Still holding Menno’s hand, Daed shut his eyes and prayed. Grace saw the intensity with which her father prayed as his mouth twitched a few times during the long silence. When he finished, Menno thanked him, sincere in his gratitude for what Daed had done.

  Grace wanted to ask Menno before he left why he had done such a thing. His unexpected visit and display of humility and respect certainly caught her off-guard. Even more odd was his request to Daed, especially given her father’s somber mood whenever Menno visited. But, as usual, she let the question remain unspoken, taking the glow in his eyes as the only answer she needed.

  Now, as she dressed in her new light blue dress with white apron and cape, she felt the same apprehension that she had seen in his face the previous evening. After her vow to God to follow the Ordnung and renounce worldly pleasures, standing before the bishop and promising to honor and obey Menno for the rest of their lives would be the next most important vow in her life.

  Weddings were always held in the bride’s house, so when she went downstairs, she walked into a kitchen and gathering room already set up for the service. Throughout the previous week, Maem, Anna Mae, and Grace had scrubbed the rooms so that the woodwork shone and the windows sparkled in the sunlight. Emanuel, Benny, and Daed had removed most of the furniture and dismantled the hinged walls between the large gathering room that was reserved for worship services and the rest of the downstairs.

  Over three hundred people would show up for the service and fellowship, staying well into the evening, only a few leaving for afternoon chores. Because the day was so long, the women would serve two meals, taking turns at replenishing plates of food and pitchers of iced tea and water so that everyone had a chance to both help out and enjoy the day.

  The only decorations would be the different foods covering the tables: plates of fresh bread and rolls, dishes of salads, vegetables, and meats, and large bowls of room-temperature mashed potatoes and applesauce. And then there was the dessert table. The women engaged in friendly, unspoken competition over which dessert the bride would select, each woman secretly hoping it would be hers. Between cakes and pies, there was always plenty to tempt even a nervous bride on her wedding day. Other than the food, however, there would be nothing extra—no table linens, flowers, candles, or music—with the exception of the singing of hymns throughout the day. It would appear like any other fellowship gathering.

  Of course, Menno and Grace would sit at the special corner table, reserved specifically for the groom and bride. A lot of people would pause before them, offer a congratulatory handshake, and then move on to eat more food and visit with friends and relatives, some of whom they may not have seen in years. That was the only aspect that set the event apart.

  “Grace,” her mother called over to her. She was working alongside Emanuel’s wife as they organized the counter so that arriving guests knew where to leave their contributions to the wedding meal. “Help Anna Mae with the Ausbunds.”

  Obediently, Grace hurried over to where her younger sister stood next to several wooden crates, each packed with the black hymnals. Anna Mae had been tasked with setting one on each chair and upon the benches for the worship service that would precede the actual wedding ceremony. Anna Mae smiled at her but said nothing as Grace began to help her distribute the remaining books.

  While Grace hadn’t expected a fuss, she had hoped that her mother might say something—anything—to acknowledge that this was not an ordinary day. She tried to think back to when her older sisters had married. Had Maem behaved in the same manner? She pondered. But her memory failed her. After all, she had been not much older than Anna Mae at the time, and she was certainly unaware of how nervous her sisters must have felt. Instead, she remembered looking at them, admiring their light blue dresses and feeling slightly envious that they were real women now.

  When the Ausbunds were distributed, Grace set the top back on one of the boxes and bent down to lift it. It would need to go out to the bench wagon that was parked beside the barn. But Anna Mae blocked her path. She glanced over Grace’s shoulder, making certain no one could overhear, and then with a big smile, she whispered, “You look so pretty, Grace.”

  The color immediately rose to Grace’s cheeks, but with the crate in her hands, there was nothing she could do to hide her reaction. Anna Mae giggled and hurried away, her own cheeks growing crimson.

  No one had ever told Grace that she was pretty. It wasn’t something Amish people said to one another. The sinfulness of vanity meant avoidance of compliments, especially about people’s appearances. In fact, Grace had never even considered whether or not she was attractive. Her community considered a person’s righteousness and humility of much greater importance than looks.

  Yet even as she reflected on this reality, she knew that she had been drawn to Menno initially for two reasons: his self-confidence and his attractiveness. Perhaps that was why her parents showed little enthusiasm for their marriage. Had she sinned in being more drawn to those attributes than to the more important ones? That thought troubled her and she looked up, staring at nothing in particular.

  “Grace?”

  Startled, she almost dropped the crate when she heard her father say her name.

  “You all right, then?” he asked, reaching out to take the crate from her.

  Immediately she noticed a change in his demeanor. He appeared calmer and more relaxed than in the days leading up to the wedding. “I’m fine, Daed.” She tried to smile. “Danke,” she added, indicating her appreciation for his taking the crate.

  He returned her smile and then did something she had never seen him do: he winked at her. That one gesture told her all she needed to know: her father finally approved of her marriage to Menno Beiler. Stunned
, Grace stared after him as he carried the crate out of the house. He had a slight spring to his step as he handed the crate to Benny and pointed toward the barn. “And after returning that crate,” her father instructed him, “fetch the other ones from Anna Mae and put them on the wagon too.”

  Without argument or a sassy comment, Benny did as he was told.

  Standing there, looking around the room at the organized chaos, Grace began to see things in a different light. Women worked in the kitchen, laughing and talking with each other. Outside the window, she could see that men gathered by the barn while young boys directed arriving guests so that they could park their buggies and unhitch their horses. As people entered the house, they smiled and greeted one another, shaking hands and occasionally glancing in her direction.

  Indeed, she had not expected a fuss, but all of these people were fussing to make certain that her day was special. All of this was in celebration of her marriage to Menno.

  Shortly before nine o’clock, the women began to assemble. Grace assumed her regular place among the unmarried women for the very last time.

  During the worship service, she found that she could barely focus on the songs. Her stomach felt fluttery, and she couldn’t help but glance over at Menno a few times. He was the vision of serenity. It wasn’t the first time she had seen him like this at worship services, and his attention to the words of both the songs and the sermons touched her. She realized that his devotion at worship and his unexpected visit last night may have been what broke down her father’s resistance.

  That thought calmed her nerves.

  During the last song, the bishop exited the room. Without being told, Menno and Grace stood up and followed him. This was the way of the Amish, as it had been done generation upon generation. The bishop took them upstairs into one of the bedrooms. He gestured for them to sit on the edge of the bed. Grace felt awkward when she brushed against Menno and quickly moved a little farther away. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw him suppressing a smile.