The song service was even more soul stirring to Maggie than last night’s gathering, and there was an air of almost tangible expectancy. When it came time for people to give testimonies, she listened closely. The first person, an older man, shared somewhat timidly that he had wandered far from the straight and narrow. “Until I came to these meetings, I was convinced God could never forgive me,” he told the vast crowd, breaking down and wiping away tears. “And now I’ve surrendered my life to the Lord and Savior.”
There was a thunderous amen when he finished. Even Maggie found herself wanting to join in, but she wasn’t accustomed to making such a public response.
The next man described himself as a Mennonite farmer who felt convicted about his tobacco crop—so much so that, after attending his first meeting, he’d gone home and plowed it all up the very next day.
Maggie was shocked that this man would give up his livelihood “for the Good News,” as he put it. She was also amazed by the number in attendance, even more than last night. Lila had mentioned during the ride that word of mouth was spreading the news like a brush fire. Luke, who’d once again driven them, described it as a “phenomenon.”
Whatever it was, something powerful was taking place, and Maggie realized that she, too, was caught up in the fervor. The draw was like that of a magnet, one she could not resist.
Tonight, Maggie had chosen to sit midway between the back and the front of the tent with Cousin Lila and a young neighbor woman Lila had invited, Nanette Oberholtzer. Having brought her Bible this time, Maggie followed along with the evangelist as the sermon moved forward. She used her homemade bookmarks to mark passages she wanted to read again at home, fascinated by the idea of surrendering fully to the lordship of Christ.
When the crowd was beginning to disperse a while after the altar call, Maggie noticed Glenn Brubaker across the tent, evidently coming this way. He waved when he spotted her and entered the row where she and Lila and Nanette were sitting, stopping to shake hands with various people, some still sitting and reading their Bibles.
As Glenn approached, he smiled broadly. “Hello again, Maggie.” He also greeted Lila, who introduced him to Nanette.
To Maggie’s surprise, Glenn sat next to her. “It’s good to see you here again.” He flashed his wonderful smile. “I take it you didn’t care much for the back rows.”
“It’s harder to see from there,” she admitted, unable to help smiling in return. “And I guess I just wanted to be closer to the front.”
“Good choice,” Glenn said with a glance toward the altar area, where people were still lingering and praying. “God’s Spirit is working in many hearts . . . people are being touched for eternity.”
“You seem excited,” she said softly, glad Lila was still talking with Nanette, pointing out a Scripture verse in the Bible they had open between them.
“Yes. It’s been a humbling privilege to work alongside my father.”
Maggie wasn’t sure what to say, or if she should reveal the questions filling up her heart.
“Is there anything you’d like to talk about concerning tonight’s sermon, or anything else?” he asked, his brown leather Bible balanced on his knee.
It seemed strange that Glenn would ask, as if he’d sensed what she was feeling. Dare she tell him? She started to open her mouth but felt hesitant to talk so openly with an Englischer.
“Maggie, I realize we don’t know each other well, but I’m here to help.” The way he spoke to her, singling her out, made her think he could be trusted.
She took a slow breath. “Last night I was reading in my New Testament,” she said, going out on a limb. “Starting in Acts, chapter two.”
“Yes?” His expression encouraged her to go on.
“But I didn’t stop there. I just couldn’t. I kept reading into chapter three, where Peter and John healed the lame man at the gate of the temple.” Suddenly, she felt as if she might choke up and looked down at her hands in her lap. “If I understood verse sixteen right, the lame man was healed by faith in Jesus’ name.”
“Exactly,” Glenn said, nodding his head emphatically. “And while you might find it hard to believe, seeing me now, I also experienced a healing like that.” He glanced at Maggie’s cane. “Are you seeking healing, too?”
She didn’t want to talk about herself; she wanted to hear more about what had happened to Glenn. He was quite right—she couldn’t imagine such a strapping young man in need of physical healing. She was about to ask to hear more, but Lila touched her arm, and when Maggie glanced over, she saw Luke standing at the far end of the row, ready to head home.
“Ach, I’m sorry, Glenn. It looks like I have to get goin’,” she said as Luke waved to Glenn just then.
“Will I see you again?” There was a sudden rise of energy in his voice. “If you’re really interested, I’d like to tell you what happened.”
She was taken aback by his request. “I don’t know,” she said softly. “To tell ya the truth, I’m pushin’ the boundaries, coming to these meetings,” she confided. “My father wouldn’t want me to make a habit of it.”
He nodded. “I understand. But please know this: The Lord sees our hearts, not our traditions or how we’re brought up. He sees the person, the person He alone created.”
She’d never thought of that.
“God loves the whole world—every last one of us. That’s why His Son left heaven to come to earth and give up His life, so we could be saved.” Glenn paused. “Christ doesn’t show favoritism—He came to redeem us all. He took the punishment we deserved for our sin and made it possible for us to be made whole—spiritually and physically.”
Maggie picked up her Bible and reached for her cane, smiling her gratitude for his words, because she was too emotional to speak. Oh, to have a healthy, whole body!
“Whether you come again or not, I hope you’ll read chapter five in the Gospel of Mark, the story of Jairus’s daughter,” Glenn said. “It will build up your faith. It certainly did mine.” He stood with her as she got out of her seat with the help of her cane.
Maggie thanked him, feeling too rushed and wishing they could talk further. But she fell in line with Lila and Nanette as Luke led the way toward the parking lot.
Feeling hesitant, Rachel showed Joseph the note Maggie had left on Rachel’s dresser. “Did you suspect she might do this?” She hated to break it to her husband.
Joseph, already in his pajamas, shook his head. “It really wonders me,” he said quietly. “Did Maggie think I’d forbid her to go a second time?”
“Would you have?” Rachel asked as she went over and slipped into bed beside him.
Sitting against the headboard with a pillow behind him, Joseph fell silent. His chest rose and fell slowly, and with a sigh, he reached for her.
“I hope this isn’t hurtful to you—Maggie slippin’ out like that,” she said.
“Well, I feel the same about Leroy’s bad attitude toward you, love.” Joseph kissed her temple.
“That’s different, though—quite different.” Rachel snuggled next to him, her head on his chest, where she could hear the steady pump of his heart.
“I’m afraid Maggie is getting caught up in the enthusiasm the papers are reporting,” Joseph said, stroking Rachel’s long blond hair.
“You’ve read some of the accounts, then?”
“One headline was Tent Revival Like a Meteorite Across the Mennonite Church of America.” Joseph was quiet for a time. “Think of it—a meteorite. Sounds mighty destructive.”
Rachel nodded. “It does when you put it thataway. Yet crowds of people are goin’. And more than just Mennonite folk.”
“True. It’s captured the attention of people from all over Lancaster County and beyond. One fella at the gristmill today said they expect seven thousand at the meeting Sunday night. Can you imagine?”
She could not, but oh, she was curious.
Joseph moved closer. “I hope you won’t lose sleep waitin’ for Maggie to come home.”<
br />
“I won’t worry, if you don’t.”
“Just rest easy, dear. Her cousins will bring her home.” He kissed her on the lips now, and then again.
“Oh, how I love ya, Joseph,” she whispered, returning his fervent kisses.
Later, when Rachel said her silent rote prayers, she remembered the first time Joseph had kissed her—on their wedding day. She had wished he might do so sooner, but Joseph was determined to wait for the day they united before God and the bishop.
Rachel had been so pleased that her parents and both sets of grandparents had traveled to Lancaster County for the private wedding at Bishop Lantz’s place, coming down nearly thirty miles from Myerstown in a passenger van. She recalled the precious mother-daughter time beforehand in one of the bedrooms upstairs in the big farmhouse. “Your Dat and I prayed for this blessed day since you were a tiny girl,” Mamm had whispered, eyes shining. She had held Rachel extra long that moment before she was to head downstairs with her side sitters, Marnie and Martha. Because all of Rachel’s sisters were already married, her cousins were her two wedding attendants.
Earlier that wedding morning, Joseph had gone out of his way to greet her family, just as he had the few times before when they’d gone back home to visit.
Sighing now, Rachel rolled over and placed her hand gently on Joseph’s feather pillow, near his dear head, and thanked God for this precious man.
Moonlight on the walkway guided Maggie as she and Lila moved together toward the back porch. The sweetness of honeysuckle blossoms was thick in the air, and the sound of chirping crickets, too.
“I’m so glad ya came along, dear cousin,” Lila said, walking close, as if to make sure that Maggie made it all right.
“Denki. I’m glad ya invited me.”
Lila hugged her quickly and returned the Bible that she’d carried for Maggie, then headed back to the car, where Luke and Nanette were waiting.
Maggie inched up the porch steps, struggling with her Bible and cane.
“You prob’ly hoped no one would catch ya, ain’t?” came Leroy’s voice, and then she saw him there in the shadows, sitting near the screen door.
Startled though Maggie was, she tried not to let on. “Ach, no need to think thataway,” she told him, leaning hard on her cane. “I left Rachel a note, tellin’ where I was.”
“Well, even Gracie was worried.” Leroy got up from the rocking chair and began to pace. “The tent meetings must really be somethin’ for you to—”
“I just told ya, Rachel should have known from my note where I was,” she interrupted. “I figured she’d tell Dat.”
“But you didn’t tell him, did ya?”
She’d never known Leroy to confront her. “You’re right; I should have.” She headed slowly for the side door. “I’m awful tired.”
“Jah, everyone’s in bed, ’cept us,” Leroy said, stopping his pacing to rest against the porch rail.
She didn’t reply; he seemed too set on arguing. This wasn’t like him at all.
“Are the meetings everything that folks are sayin’?” he asked now.
She reached for the screen door. “What folk?”
“Oh, the handful I’ve run into, here and there.”
Maggie drew a breath. “The singin’, the sermons . . . all of it makes ya want to keep goin’ back. I can’t say why, though.”
“Like wantin’ a piece of candy . . . and then another?”
“Not exactly, but many people are goin’ forward during the altar call. Some can hardly get there fast enough to make things right with God.”
Leroy didn’t say anything to that.
“Well, I’m on my last legs,” Maggie said. “I’ll see ya in the mornin’, Bruder.” She headed indoors, where Rachel had left a single lit lantern on the counter. Maggie set down her Bible. She caught her breath and wished to goodness Mamm were sitting there at the table waiting for her, so they could talk . . . the way she used to wait up for her the few times Maggie had gone to Singings or other youth activities. Before rheumatic heart disease had flared up, taking Mamm early. All because of the bad case of scarlet fever she had when she was young.
Leroy remained outside, Maggie noticed as she took two aspirin with a half glass of milk. And even though her brother had waited up to challenge her like that, Maggie’s thoughts were on Glenn’s encouragement to read from the Gospel of Mark. She could hardly wait to open her Bible to do just that.
Mamm used to read the Good Book late at night, too.
As Maggie was getting ready to leave the kitchen, she heard sniffling out on the porch and crept over to the screen door. Leroy still stood there, facing away from her.
“What is it?” she whispered, opening the door to step out. She went over and stood next to him, letting him cry.
He murmured, “I’m a big baby, that’s what.”
“We all are sometimes.” She meant it. “I hope it’s not somethin’ I said.”
“I don’t think ya wanna know, Maggie. You won’t understand.”
“Well, how can I if you don’t explain?”
He rubbed his eyes like a child and shook his head. Then, straightening, he said, “I can’t accept Rachel as our Schtiefmudder. It’s like I’d be forgetting Mamm . . . bein’ disloyal to her.”
Maggie looked at him. “Wouldn’t Mamm want us to welcome Rachel? Have ya considered that?” She struggled to keep her own composure, because some days she, too, felt like Leroy did just now.
“But we can’t know that for sure,” Leroy replied, his voice faltering. “Besides, I think Mamm would be upset that Dat pushed all his memories of her aside to marry Rachel so quick.”
Maggie could see his point, but she also understood why their father had remarried. “Is there somethin’ more, Leroy? Seems like somethin’s a-brewin’ inside of you, ’cause I’ve never known ya to be this way.”
He huffed. “Didn’t ya listen to what I just said?”
“Ach, you’re in such turmoil. The Bruder I know would never talk like this.”
He groaned but didn’t say more, and she stood there with him for a while longer, until he calmed down.
At last, Leroy pulled out his kerchief and blew his nose. Then he thanked her for caring about him. “Like Mamm always did.”
“I love ya, Bruder,” Maggie said. “Never forget that.”
They went inside together, Maggie somewhat heartened that she’d had this sisterly time with poor, miserable Leroy. She also sensed something more gnawing away at him. But what?
10
Exhausted as she was and despite her concern for Leroy, Maggie welcomed the peace that followed to her room on the main level of the house. The house creaked and cooled off from the day’s heat; the cushion of nighttime was her solace now.
First day of summer, she thought, setting her Bible on the small table near the only chair in the room. She looked at the calendar hanging near the settee against the far wall—a free calendar from Betsy Lapp’s Bakery and Craft Shop up the road. Each page advertised Betsy’s delectable pastries, goodies, and homemade craft items.
The next Singing is July first, she thought, a bit sad at the thought of not going. But there was no backing down. The pitying look of surprise on Timothy Blank’s face still nagged at her. And, as fond as she was of Jimmy Beiler, she wouldn’t let his seeming interest in Cousin Deborah break her heart, either. I’ll keep Miriam company here at home, she decided.
Maggie slipped on her long cotton nightgown and took down her thick bun to brush her hair. She put the clothes she’d worn into the wicker hamper and closed the lid, then moved to sit near the open window, scooting up close, glad for this room, which was certainly cooler than upstairs on such a night. She reached for her Bible.
What was it about the meeting tonight that made her want to read every Scripture verse the evangelist had referenced? And what about Glenn?—so kind and earnest, like a close friend. Maggie wondered all of these things and more as her thoughts raced. I can’t have a crush on an
Englischer. . . .
A sudden gust blew in through the window, catching her off guard. All the better, she thought, shaking herself. I must keep my focus on the Lord alone, she thought as she turned the pages to the Gospel of Mark to locate the story Glenn had suggested.
The next morning, Maggie, tired from staying up late, chose to remain at home with Grace while Rachel took Miriam to visit neighbor Ruth Zook, who was still hobbling about on crutches with her sprained ankle. Dat and the boys had gone down the road to help the neighbors chase pigs and load them into the hauling pens to put on a truck for market.
While Maggie missed having their talkative and bubbly younger sister around, she welcomed the opportunity to help Grace bake apple pie for supper that evening. One for Aunt Nellie, too. Sitting at the table to conserve her energy, Maggie found that working alongside Grace reminded her of doing the same with Mamm, and the feeling brought her a sense of peace in the midst of shared grief.
Maggie and Grace each wore one of Mamm’s old work aprons as they made pie dough and smoothed it out with rolling pins. Maggie never had to think about the next step or wonder if Grace would match her own movements—they were partners in the kitchen, to be sure. Mamm taught us well.
“Where’d ya go last evening, or is it too nosy to ask?” Grace asked while she placed the pie dough into the glass baking dish.
“Well, it wasn’t with Jimmy Beiler,” Maggie said, making herself smile. “Is that what you’re hopin’?”
“Another fella, then?” Grace’s eyebrows rose.
“Nee.”
Grace looked at her askance. “None of my business, right?”
Maggie shrugged. “I just went with Lila and Luke to the tent meeting.”
This news appeared to astonish Grace. “You went again?”
“I did.”
Smoothing out the dough, Grace leaned on the rolling pin, her face pinched up. Even so, she didn’t ask another question.
Maggie felt like a fish flapping on dry ground. She disliked being made to feel guilty of wrongdoing, and no one in this house seemed to understand her interest in the meetings. But she couldn’t blame them; unless they experienced the gatherings for themselves, how could they possibly know?
The First Love Page 6