by Sarah Price
Their courtship had been brief and mostly through letters. But when he wrote with the proposal, Anna Mae quickly responded. Within a few weeks, she stood outside the Beilers’ house, her three packed bags on the driveway as she waited for the hired driver to pick her up.
Grace had stood there with her silently. She was unable to form any sentences that could possibly express how much she would miss her dear sister.
It had been Anna Mae who addressed the issue. “I know you’re upset that I’m going so far,” she said. “But I truly prayed about this, and I know that God wants me with Jonas and his kinner. We can write to each other and mayhaps visit each year.” The idea sounded fine, but the reality was that it was too hard to leave farms to go visiting for more than a few hours at a time. Who would tend the livestock?
That had been the last time she saw her sister.
“Mammi Grace?” Barbie tugged at her arm. “You all right?”
Grace smiled. “Ja, I’m right as rain. Just thinking about my younger sister. Mayhaps your maem will have another dochder so you can have a special schwester like I did.”
Barbie seemed to ponder this thought for a while. Then, with a curious tilt to her head, she pursed her lips and asked, “Where’s your special schwester now?”
“Oh,” Grace responded, quickly trying to think of the right way to explain this to her granddaughter. “She’s in a very happy place. She’s with Jesus now.”
“Why?”
Why? Grace thought. That was a good question indeed. And one that she often wanted to ask, but unlike Barbie, she felt she was not permitted to ask it. The last thing she needed was to face reproach from the bishop for daring to ask for explanations. She knew what his counsel would be: a stern lecture regarding her faith. “Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus?”
Faith didn’t ask why or demand explanations. Faith accepted God’s decisions and moved on without looking back.
“She became sick,” Grace finally responded, deciding the truth was the best way to approach little Barbie’s question. “And sometimes when you are sick, you join Jesus. In heaven.”
“Where is heaven again?”
Grace laughed at the innocent question. “Heaven is where God lives. I’m quite sure that Anna Mae is happier there than here, Barbie. There is no sadness or sorrow in heaven.”
“So she won’t ever come back?”
With a serious expression on her face, Grace shook her head. “Oh no. But one day, we will join her again . . . if we follow God’s commandments, pray, and live our lives in faith.”
“What about my daed’s schwester Susan?” Barbie asked, the innocent look in her eyes almost catching Grace as off-guard as the question. “Aendi Susan? Is she with Jesus too?”
“No, dear. She just lives far away.” Inhaling deeply, Grace shut her eyes and fought the pounding of her heart. Susan. If only she knew that her words were true. Surely word would have reached them had something happened to her. Certainly the community would not have kept such news from them. Besides, not a day had passed in the fifteen years since Susan left that Grace did not pray for her well-being. True to Menno’s word, no one ever mentioned Susan’s name again, at least not in his presence. But Grace still wondered and worried about her youngest daughter.
Now, she was surprised to hear Susan’s name come from her granddaughter’s lips. Where would Barbie have heard about Susan? There was only one person who would have talked about Susan, and that was Ivan. Yet obviously Barbie had overheard only bits of conversation, for she didn’t seem to know where her aendi was. Did Ivan? Had he received word from her daughter? The thought made Grace’s heart skip a beat, a conflicting mix of emotions hitting her at the same time: hope for Susan’s health, and dread that the old wound would be reopened. Quickly, Grace prayed that Barbie would not speak of Susan again. All it would take was one mention of her name in front of Menno and the tension would rekindle. From the very beginning of her shunning, Menno had kept his resolve that the family was to have nothing to do with her. Even at James’s funeral, Susan was forced to stand at the back of the graveyard and not among her family.
That had been the last time Grace saw her, and with so many people around her, she had not dared to approach her.
To suddenly hear Susan’s name spoken aloud, and so innocently at that, made Grace curious. What was Susan doing now? Where was she living? Did she have children whom Grace would never know?
It had been fifteen years since they had heard from her. Two letters. That was all they had received. One letter arriving shortly after she left informed them she was safe and living in Philadelphia. The next letter a few months later told them she married the Englische man. After that, silence. Whether Susan stopped writing or Menno was taking the letters from the mailbox so that Grace wouldn’t be tormented with the desire to respond, Grace never knew.
What she did know was that Menno had been serious when he told her and Ivan that he would not hear his daughter’s name spoken in the house again. Not once in fifteen years had Menno even mentioned his third child, Susan. For him, life went on. He had been able to compartmentalize the memories, lock them in a little box that he too had stored deep in the recesses of his mind.
Grace tried to follow his example, but each night, at the top of her little diary entry, she’d indicate a number. It stood for how many days since she had last heard from her daughter. Last night she had written 5426 in the upper corner of her entry. She paused when she looked at it, thinking it an ugly number, symbolic of hidden heartache and false bravado for the sake of Menno and the g’may.
Still, she began to wonder why, exactly, Barbie had mentioned Susan’s name. There was only one person who would dare to mention her, and Grace couldn’t even begin to speculate as to what might have precipitated such a discussion. As she opened the door into the main house where Ivan and Jane lived, she quickly prayed that word of this would not make its way back to Menno.
Inside the house, Grace found the curtains drawn and the breakfast dishes still piled in the sink. From the looks of it, the floor hadn’t been swept in a day or two, and toys were scattered in all directions.
“Oh my,” Grace gasped as she assessed the chaos in the room. “What’s happened here?”
Barbie shrugged.
Taking a deep breath, Grace knew what needed to be done. “Vell, best be tackling this mess right away,” she said. “Fetch me the broom, Barbie, and then I’ll ask you to put the toys away. We’ll make this right as rain for your maem.”
An hour later, the kitchen was put back in order, and while not necessarily cleaned by Grace’s standards, it was presentable enough if someone were to stop by unexpectedly. Grace had always kept an orderly house and wondered about Jane’s inability to do so. Certainly Ivan must mind coming home to find everything in such disarray. Something was clearly wrong.
“Now I think I’ll go check on your maem, then,” Grace said, more to herself than to Barbie. “See if she’s awake yet and mayhaps would like some soup.”
Unlike most Amish farmhouses, the main bedroom was on the second floor. Grace remembered having to walk up and down that staircase multiple times a day, especially when she had small babies. She even knew that the fourth step would creak when she placed her foot upon it.
Yes, she knew every inch of this house. Some of her happiest memories as well as two of her worst ones had occurred while living here. Still, it felt like home, and she wasn’t certain she’d ever get over that feeling.
Knocking at the door to the main bedroom, Grace waited an appropriate amount of time before she opened the door and peered inside. Sure enough, Ivan’s wife lay prostrate in the bed, a simple white sheet covering her.
“Jane?” Grace approached the bed. “Jane? Are you feeling poorly, then? Shall I fetch the doctor?”
The young woman shifted her head to stare at Grace, her dull eyes trying to make out who stood before
her. Her forehead was dotted with beads of sweat and her eyes lacked any luster or glow. Immediately Grace panicked for the unborn child.
“Barbie!” Grace called out. The little girl appeared within seconds, and Grace knew she must have been lingering in the hallway. “I want you to fetch your daed.” She kept her voice calm so that the child needn’t suspect Grace’s worry.
Once Grace heard the little girl’s footsteps clamber down the stairs, she hurried to the bedside and sat on the edge, reaching her hand out to touch Jane’s shoulder. Her skin felt clammy under Grace’s fingertips.
“Jane? Jane, dear?” she said softly. “Can you hear me?”
Jane moaned and tried to shift her head to look at Grace. There were dark circles under her eyes and her skin was drained of any color.
“Ivan will be fetching the doctor,” Grace continued in her soft voice. She didn’t want to instill panic in her daughter-in-law, but Grace had lived long enough to know that something was wrong, and most likely with the baby. “How long have you been feeling poorly, then?”
Jane merely shook her head and shut her eyes.
Certainly this hadn’t been an overnight occurrence, Grace thought. For a moment she felt anger at her son. Why hadn’t he called a doctor? Why had he left his wife to suffer? Why had he not come to ask for help? Drawing in deep breaths, Grace tried to shake those emotions. Anger would not help the situation. Her main concern needed to be Jane and her unborn baby.
While she waited for Ivan to come, Grace fetched a wet washcloth from the upstairs bathroom and gently dabbed at Jane’s forehead. She prayed to the Lord to take care of the young woman and baby, if that was, indeed, His plan. She prayed that Ivan made the right choices in providing care for Jane, and she prayed for the strength to be of help during this time of need.
A few minutes later, she heard the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs. Not just one pair but two. Certainly Menno had joined Ivan to see what was wrong. Grace looked over her shoulder at the two men standing in the bedroom doorway.
“You’d best be calling for a doctor, Ivan.”
“A doctor?”
Grace fought the urge to snap at him. Was he truly that blind? “Your fraa needs some medical care. She’s ill.”
Ivan removed his straw hat and ran the back of his arm across his forehead. “She said she wasn’t in labor,” he mumbled.
Behind Ivan, Menno took one look at the sick woman in the bed before he turned and started down the stairs. Grace knew he was headed back out to the barn to use the phone in the small office. Menno would call a doctor and soon, she prayed, all would be well.
She stayed with Jane until the doctor arrived. During that time, she could hear the men pacing the floor downstairs, their voices low when they spoke. Keeping the cool cloth on Jane’s forehead, Grace continued to pray. Only this time, she added a special prayer that Menno and Ivan wouldn’t get into an argument. Please, Lord, she prayed, keep the two of them focused on helping Jane and not on how negligent Ivan has been.
The doctor entered the room and took almost no time to assess the situation. Grace stayed in the room as decorum demanded and also in case the doctor needed assistance. He was a familiar face to many of the Amish families in the church district, as he was one of the few doctors who made house calls specifically for the Amish. Grace knew that his knowledge of their culture as well as their religion came in handy when he treated his Plain patients.
“Well,” he said after he had examined Jane. “I’m of the opinion that the baby is in distress.”
“She’s in labor, then?”
The doctor nodded. “It appears so. But the baby isn’t in the correct position. I’ve delivered many babies and encountered this before. The baby needs to be turned around. Its heartbeat is very faint. If she doesn’t deliver this baby soon . . . ” He let his voice trail off, not needing to complete the sentence.
“I’ll tell Ivan, then.”
The doctor nodded his head as he rolled up his white sleeves and assessed the room. Like most Amish bedrooms, there wasn’t much to it. Just a bed, nightstand, and one small chest of drawers. Their clothing hung from hangers on hooks on the wall. “You know the drill, Grace. Hot water, clean towels, and lots of prayers.”
Down in the kitchen, Grace hurried to the stove and opened the cabinet next to it where the pots were stored. Her mind reeled at the possibilities. If the baby didn’t turn, it could die. Perhaps the umbilical cord was wrapped around its neck. In turning the baby, one of the limbs could be injured. And if Jane didn’t deliver the baby soon, both were at risk of dying.
Menno and Ivan watched her, neither one uttering a word. By Grace’s actions, they knew what was happening. Grace didn’t trust her tongue to speak kindness toward her son, so she remained silent, not knowing how to speak without snapping at him.
It was Barbie who spoke up.
“Is Maem going to be all right, Mammi Grace?”
Oh, help! Grace turned to face her granddaughter. Had the men been so oblivious to the seriousness of the situation that they had not sent her outside to watch the two smaller boys? While the pots of water heated on the stove, Grace walked toward her and knelt down on the ground so that she could look Barbie in the eye. “The doctor will help your maem,” she said. “But you can help your maem too.”
“How?”
“Prayer is always a good start. And mayhaps you could keep an eye on Samuel and Benjamin so that they are occupied until the doctor finishes?”
Barbie nodded her head.
As Grace started to stand up, she heard Barbie’s voice ask another question, the one she dreaded and feared the most.
“And Maem’s baby? If she’s a girl, will we name her after Aendi Susan like Daed wants?”
Grace froze.
A heavy silence fell over the room. She didn’t dare look in the direction where Ivan and Menno now sat at the table. Without even glancing at him, she felt the immediate tension from her husband. Grace bit her lower lip and took a deep breath. Guide me, Lord, she prayed.
“You’d best go check on your bruders now,” she finally said and continued walking toward the mudroom where she knew spare towels were kept.
No sooner had Barbie left the house than the arguing began. Grace shut her eyes, listening to Menno as he spoke, rather harshly, to his son.
“Susan? How would my grossdochder know about Susan?” Menno’s voice was low and cutting, not a hint of his usual kindness. She had only heard him use that tone once before: the night Susan left and James died.
Ivan wasted no time in responding. “I’m a grown man, Daed. I can make my own decisions now.”
Grace took a step into the room, her arms laden with towels. She stared at Ivan, suddenly realizing that he had been in contact with Susan. He knew about her well-being and her life. Oh, the questions she wanted to ask! But one look at Menno and she knew better than to speak up.
His eyes narrowed and his lips pressed tight together as he too realized what Ivan’s words meant. “She is still under the ban,” Menno reminded him. “You risk it yourself if you are communicating with her.”
“Times have changed, Daed. It’s not like it was when we grew up and certainly not as strict as when you were young. The bishop has given me permission to stay in touch with Susan.” Ivan glanced over at Grace. “And she’ll be coming for a visit next month.”
The calmness in Ivan’s voice surprised Grace. While Menno’s words were angry and strong, Ivan merely replied without any emotion. Clearly he had given a lot of thought to this. And at age forty-one, with six children and over two decades of living the Plain life faithfully, Ivan deserved to be heard. For one brief moment, Grace held her breath, hopeful that Menno would back down. It had been fifteen years, fifteen very long years, and Grace wanted to see her daughter again.
But when he slammed his open hand onto the table and stood up, that hope quickly faded.
“She took a vow!” Menno shouted. “She broke that vow and the hearts of every m
ember of this community!”
Ivan didn’t even flinch.
“There are rules for a reason. And breaking a vow, a sacred vow to God, is incomprehensible. She is the worst kind of sinner, and the bishop should realize that!” Menno stood up, the chair falling over behind him. He kicked it out of his way as he took a step backward, still glaring at Ivan. “‘When thou shalt vow a vow unto the LORD thy God, thou shalt not slack to pay it: for the LORD thy God will surely require it of thee; and it would be sin in thee. But if thou shalt forbear to vow, it shall be no sin in thee. That which is gone out of thy lips thou shalt keep and perform; even a freewill offering, according as thou hast vowed unto the LORD thy God, which thou hast promised with thy mouth.’”
Unmoved, Ivan immediately responded, “Jesus associated with sinners. ‘I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.’”
Grace could hold her silence no longer. “Ivan! Menno!” She stood there holding the towels and facing the two men who clearly had forgotten her presence. “Need I remind you that Jane is in a difficult way? She needs our prayers and not to hear you arguing. If you want to be calling from Scripture, let me share one with you! ‘How forcible are right words! but what doth your arguing reprove’?” She shook her head, disappointed in both of them. Such bitterness between the two men and at such a stressful time. She needed their cooperation and Jane needed their prayers. “Now, I must take these towels to the doctor, and I ask the two of you to carry the water upstairs once it has boiled. Keep bringing up new boiled water until the baby is born. And then pray! Pray, Ivan, for the life of your wife and unborn child.” She didn’t wait for a reply as she turned and hurried up the stairs.
For the next three hours, she stood by the doctor’s side, fetching whatever he needed and holding Jane’s hand when pain came. When the baby was finally delivered, Grace breathed a sigh of relief and said a silent prayer to God, thanking Him for sparing the lives of both the mother and the infant.
“A girl,” the doctor said. He smiled at Jane. “You have a daughter.”