The table talk was entertaining, though a little embarrassing. Her great-aunt Nellie shared about the first time she’d laid eyes on newborn Maggie, whom the midwife had declared as “pink and perty” as one could hope for.
Maggie’s brothers and sisters were silent, as they usually were with extended family at the table. Adults were expected to conduct the conversation, and Maggie suddenly realized that she, too, was now considered one of them. This knowledge made her smile a little; then she glanced at Grace across the table, knowing she wasn’t too far away from this birthday herself. Less than a year and a half, and we’ll be celebrating her eighteenth, thought Maggie, wishing Mamm could have lived to see them grow into adulthood.
Maggie poured gravy over her meat and mashed potatoes, the way she’d always done since she was little, thinking how sometimes she’d like to go back and relive her childhood, if it were possible. Maggie truly cherished her growing-up years in this farmhouse, especially because of her mother’s thoughtful and gentle ways.
“Maggie, tell us your favorite kind of cake,” Rachel’s mother, Mary Mae, was saying, her eyes dancing mischievously.
“White chocolate with dark chocolate icing,” Maggie replied.
“See? Just what I told ya,” Aunt Nellie said, grinning at Mary Mae and nodding her head.
Grace exchanged looks with petite Miriam, whose big blue eyes shone. Definitely in cahoots, Maggie thought with a smile.
“We did our best to keep the cake a secret,” Rachel said with a look at Maggie, then at Grace and Miriam.
“And a wunnerbaar-gut secret it is!” Dat said, rubbing his hands together and looking around for the special dessert.
When Rachel carried it to the table on Mamm’s beautiful glass cake stand, Rachel asked, “Would ya like to cut the first piece, Maggie?”
It startled her a little, because Mamm had always done it like this. One of Maggie’s sisters must have filled Rachel in on that.
Maggie’s eyes strayed toward Leroy, whose head was lowered. He might think Rachel’s stealing Mamm’s tradition, she thought, her heart going out to him.
Nevertheless, Maggie agreed to do Rachel’s bidding and cut the first piece, and it crossed her mind to offer it to her peeved brother. But knowing that might embarrass him, she offered it to Great-aunt Nellie instead. Rachel’s just trying to be a thoughtful Schtiefmudder. But Leroy’s too angry to see it.
After supper, Cousins Tom and Sally Witmer arrived with their children, bringing three kinds of cookies and a homemade birthday card that Lila had created. They had worn their Sunday clothes to honor Maggie on this landmark birthday.
At this hour, all of them were seated across the back porch, the children perched on the steps, talking and laughing. One of the older Witmer boys, Benny, mentioned that they’d seen an encyclopedia salesman going door to door during the ride over. Maggie pricked up her ears, wondering what Dat would say if such a salesman came by the house.
It wasn’t long until Dat and his cousin Tom and all the boys headed out to the stable, and Tom’s wife, Sally, along with Rachel, her mother, and Miriam, went for a walk with Sally’s youngest girls. Aunt Nellie presented Maggie with a delicate white hankie with pale pink tatting around the edges before going home for the evening, tuckered out. Maggie was so honored and grateful. Meanwhile, the young women stayed behind on the porch, talking about whatever they pleased.
Quickly, the conversation moved to how Lila had run into Jimmy Beiler and his sisters at BB’s Grocery Outlet in Quarryville. “We went to stock up on dented canned goods, and they were there, too,” Lila said.
Maggie exchanged a glance with Grace. What’s Lila fishing for?
“So can ya guess the first thing out of Jimmy’s mouth?” Lila asked, tilting her head in Maggie’s direction.
This was so awkward that Maggie merely shook her head.
“He asked if I’d seen ya lately.” Lila grinned. “And, not only that, he wanted to know if I’d be seein’ you on your birthday.”
He remembered? Not wanting to reply, Maggie only shrugged.
“Jimmy’s such a nice fella,” Grace said, adding her two cents.
“I agree!” Lila’s eyes twinkled.
“Goodness’ sake!” Maggie said.
Sighing, Lila looked at Grace, and now it was her turn to shrug.
Lila thinks I’m unreasonable, Maggie thought, but there wasn’t anything she would do differently.
Never one to shy away from controversial topics, Grace asked right out, “Will you be goin’ to the tent meetings again, Lila?”
Lila gave an eager nod. “My parents can’t seem to get enough.” Here Lila turned toward Grace. “Just ask Maggie how it sounds when thousands of people lift their voices in worship, all at the same time.”
Maggie found herself nodding in agreement. “Lila’s right . . . never heard anything like it.”
Grace looked at her. “Are you thinkin’ of going again, Maggie?”
“Not sure,” she said, remembering how vulnerable she’d felt sitting with Glenn at the end of the service. It was puzzling, really, her little crush on Glenn.
But Maggie wouldn’t let her heart lead her astray; she wasn’t a schoolgirl anymore. Besides, Glenn obviously wasn’t interested in her that way.
Rachel loved that her parents had come for Maggie’s birthday supper. It was a real benefit to visit with Mamm again, to have the chance to walk with her just now behind Miriam and Sally Witmer and her girls, enjoying the early evening breezes.
It was the ideal time of day to walk like this in a group, since the People, for the most part, were having their evening meal.
“You seem real settled, dear,” Rachel’s mother said as they strolled along barefoot.
“Well, Joseph has certainly paved the way . . . a big help. And the three youngest children have, too.”
Slowing her pace, Mamm regarded her. “Are the older girls—”
“We’ll talk ’bout that another time,” Rachel said, wanting to keep things on a lighter note, since her cherished visits with Mamm were few and far between. “All right?”
Mamm nodded. “You look so radiant. Still a blushin’ bride.”
“Well, I love Joseph dearly,” Rachel replied.
“Quite obvious.” Mamm smiled at her and reached for her hand.
They walked that way for the longest time, before they all turned around and headed back to the house.
Once Rachel and her mother returned from walking with Sally and the others, Maggie knew she must change her position and get up from the porch rocker. Walking stiffly, she picked up her portable seat cushion and headed indoors with Grace while Cousin Lila stayed on the porch with her mother and sisters and Miriam. Maggie could hear them talking and the younger girls giggling through the kitchen window where she stood for a while, just staring at the sky.
She couldn’t help but wonder about Jimmy, considering what Lila had said about Maggie’s birthday. That, and seeking her out prior to baptismal instruction, made Maggie think of asking Grace if Jimmy was seeing Cousin Deborah or not.
13
After the Witmers and Rachel’s parents said their good-byes, Dat approached Maggie about going to visit Dawdi Reuben in a few minutes. “I’ve already planned for a driver,” he said, still wearing what he’d worn for the birthday supper—his best black trousers and white shirt and black vest, like he was going to Preaching.
“Will you be goin’, too?” Maggie asked, glad for this opportunity.
“Oh jah.”
Maggie wondered if any of her siblings would also be joining them, but she didn’t ask, thinking Dat might want to talk with her alone. And she was right, because not long after the driver turned out of the long lane onto Olde Mill Road to head toward Leola, her father began to mention in Deitsch the note she’d left for Rachel last Thursday evening.
“Well, I didn’t want to just sneak out,” Maggie told him as they sat in the second row of the passenger van.
“Did ya th
ink I’d disapprove?” Her father frowned.
She shrugged. “I wasn’t sure.”
He was quiet for a moment, then asked, “What’s so compelling, daughter, ’bout these meetings?”
“Have ya heard anything from others who’ve attended?” she asked.
“Some. It’s all over the papers now, too. But it wondered me what’s caught your fancy.”
Maggie tried to put into words the fervor she’d felt, the intense draw to return. And that she’d fallen in love with the Lord Jesus. “You simply must see for yourself.” Maggie paused, not sure she should ask. “Have ya thought of it?”
“Going to a Mennonite meeting?” Dat chuckled and shook his head. “Do ya feel pressured by Luke and Lila to go?” he asked unexpectedly.
“Nee, I went the first time ’cause of Lila’s enthusiasm, but now it’s about my own yearning. The singing, the preachin’ . . . it’s given me such hope, Dat.”
He listened, nodding his head as they rode. Maggie was glad that it was just the two of them; it was unusual that there were no other passengers to pick up.
“But you don’t have to worry,” she said. “I doubt I’ll be goin’ back.” No sooner had she uttered the words than she experienced a sinking feeling. Do I really want to quit going?
“Well, if ya go again, let me know before you take off . . . no disappearing next time. Keep in mind, Rachel didn’t discover the note till hours later, so I know she was fretting.”
“It was the wrong way to handle things, and I’m sorry.”
Her father was quiet from then on until they arrived at their destination and were greeted by a happily surprised grandfather. Dawdi Reuben opened the door of his little Dawdi Haus and welcomed them inside.
Because Dawdi Reuben was her mother’s father, Maggie wondered if this visit would dredge up the pain of this first of her birthdays without Mamm.
“Mighty nice to see ya, Maggie-bird,” Dawdi said, tears glistening in his pale gray eyes. He glanced at her cane, surely noticing how she struggled to get around, but to her relief, he said nothing. “How’s your birthday been so far?”
She nodded, delighted to sit down with him in the front room, her father taking a place on the settee and letting Maggie have the chair next to Dawdi Reuben’s old worn-out one. “Seein’ you is the topping on the cake,” she said, glad Rachel had sent over a generous leftover piece, wrapped in tinfoil. “Here’s a nice sample for ya.” She handed it to him, and his thick eyebrows flew up.
“Well now, ain’t that somethin’.” His hand trembled slightly as he accepted it, looking down at the large slice. “How’s the family doin’?” he asked, lifting his eyes to hers.
She recited off all of her siblings and what each had been keeping busy with—all the individual chores around the house and farm. Things Dawdi Reuben knew from other visits, of course, but she repeated them anyway, because he seemed to enjoy it. She did not mention going to the tent meetings, however, nor Leroy’s insolent behavior.
“And Rachel?” he asked. “Is she settling in with all of yous? I prob’ly ask this every time I see yous . . . sorry.”
Dat was quick to say that Rachel was doing very well, indeed.
“Rachel surprised me with the nicest birthday supper,” Maggie shared, having profusely thanked Rachel when everyone left. “And we’ll be makin’ strawberry jam tomorrow with Aunt Nellie,” she added.
“Ah, I can just imagine the smell,” Dawdi said, bobbing his head slowly, as if remembering the days when Mammi was alive and they lived in the big house next door. “Will Nellie’s cat be around?”
“Oh, she’ll leave Siggy at home.”
“Seems odd to have a cat inside, ain’t?” Dawdi laughed right out loud. “I don’t see how Nellie manages with cat hair in her food.”
Now Dat was laughing, too. “’Tis a real mystery for a woman who is so, what shall I say . . .”
“Neat as a pin?” Maggie offered.
Dat snapped his fingers. “That’s it!”
Maggie grinned. “Aunt Nellie’s never a bother about that, though. She’s so easy to be around. Did ya know that she has a daily life goal?”
Both men seemed more attentive. “Do I know ’bout this?” Dawdi asked, leaning forward slightly.
“I think we all do, if we stop and think about it. Her goal is to make one person smile every single day.”
“Ambitious, for certain,” Dat said approvingly.
Dawdi Reuben shook his head. “I should’ve guessed.”
“Speaking of goals.” Dat then began to share something he’d recently read in The Budget. “An Amish scribe from Mercer County wrote that he tries to remember each day that God won’t guide his footsteps unless he’s willin’ to move his feet.”
“Ah, now that’s real gut!” Dawdi said, looking down at his own bare feet. “And the older I get, the more I oughta remember that.”
Dat continued. “I also read this from a scribe in Kalona, Iowa: ‘If you want to make both ends meet, you have to take some out of the middle,’” he said. “That’s sage advice, if you ask me.”
Dawdi’s fluffy white beard moved along with his laughter. “Ach, if only my eyes were stronger. I can’t see gut enough to read no more—sure do miss readin’ The Budget.”
Dat kept the laughter aloft by telling how Andy and Stephen had worked together the other day to try and catch pigs for auction. “It was a learnin’ experience for them. After a rough start, Andy decided he’d do his part by using the barn broom, swatting ’em into the truck chute.”
“Well, s’pose that’s one way to do it,” Dawdi said, shaking his head, clearly enjoying the free-flowing chatter.
Maggie reached for the slice of cake on Dawdi’s lap. “Would ya like this on a plate, maybe?”
“Oh, I’ll just use my fingers.”
Maggie grinned, half expecting his response. And by the time he was finished, his white beard was speckled with cake crumbs and dark icing. “Should’ve given ya some ice cream with it,” she said suddenly. “Do ya have any?”
“I ate what was left yesterday,” Dawdi admitted, looking comically sad.
“We’ll bring some more for ya next time we come,” Dat assured him.
“Denki, I’ll look forward to it,” Dawdi said, scrunching up his face to inspect his beard and proceeding to pick out the crumbs . . . popping them into his mouth. Then, turning to Maggie, he again wished her a happy birthday. “You made this ol’ man right pleased, hope ya know.”
“Always nice to see ya, Dawdi.” She reached over to pat his wrinkled hand.
Before the driver returned, Onkel Zeke, Aendi Barbieann, and the cousins who still lived at home—two girls and three boys—came over to say hullo. Barbieann kissed Maggie’s cheek, and the girls—Nancy and Linda, sixteen and fourteen—offered cheerful birthday greetings, as well, and asked Maggie how she was doing. They also inquired about Grace.
Maggie didn’t divulge that Grace had a beau, but she did talk about how much fun it was to be in Rumschpringe with her close-in-age sister.
“We’ll see Gracie and your whole family durin’ apple-pickin’ time,” Nancy said, her blue eyes shining as they brought kitchen chairs into the sitting area to make a semicircle. “We’ll get to visit ya then, for sure.”
“And we’ll all go to the orchard not far from your house,” Linda added, clasping her hands together.
“It’ll certainly be fun.” Maggie meant it, though she could only hope she might feel up to participating. Even if not, she would eagerly anticipate their visit. “Yous don’t get over to our neck of the woods very often anymore.”
“I know,” Nancy replied with a grimace. “Maybe as time passes, ya know, we will again.”
Maggie understood and was grateful for Nancy’s sensitivity in not spelling out what she was likely thinking—that since Maggie’s father had remarried so quickly, it would take some time yet. Aendi Barbieann and Mamm were so close, she thought. Not in age, but in heart.
They tal
ked about many things, including the mosquito spray their father, Zeke, had concocted. “He sprays it all over himself and our brothers before goin’ to the fields,” Linda said, her voice low so as not to interrupt her father talking with Maggie’s Dat and Dawdi Reuben. “It must work, ’cause he’s not gettin’ all bit up like before.”
Maggie had to laugh. “Maybe he should make a big batch of it to sell.”
Nancy nodded. “Oh, he’s threatened that, all right.”
They laughed together now, and Maggie’s boy cousins—Zeke Jr., Josiah, and Curly Thomas—nodded their heads, grinning.
How Maggie loved seeing her cousins on her mother’s side! There was something so special about sitting with these family members who had been such a big part of her life before Dat married Rachel. But lest she think on that too much, she quietly brought up the tent meetings. “Have ya heard of them?”
“Oh jah, and our oldest brother, Mel, even went one time, just to see what it was all about,” Linda said, her voice nearly a whisper now.
“What did he think?”
“Well, you’d have to ask him,” Linda said with a glance at her father to be sure this conversation wasn’t being overheard. “He did say there were lots of people there.”
Maggie nodded. “For sure,” she whispered, revealing that she’d gone and couldn’t stop thinking about the sermons.
“You were allowed?” Nancy asked, eyes wide.
Maggie put her finger to her lips. “That’s a long story.”
Both Nancy and Linda caught on and changed the subject to what vegetables they had been canning this week.
Later, before saying good-bye, Nancy and Linda promised to write, and Maggie was tickled to hear it. “I’d love that . . . so would Gracie.”
“It’s a gut plan, then,” Nancy said, smiling and walking with Maggie to the door.
On the way home, Maggie couldn’t help but be thankful that Dawdi Reuben lived right next door to Barbieann and family; otherwise, he would be very lonely indeed.
The First Love Page 8