Rachel loved when Joseph took her hand. It still put butterflies in her stomach. Even so, she couldn’t dismiss Leroy’s disappearance. Perhaps he had gone over to neighbor Sam Zook’s for supper, or to one of the many cousins in the area. But the fact that he hadn’t returned yet had both Rachel and Joseph scratching their heads, particularly when there was no note. Joseph had suggested going in search of him earlier, but Rachel had wondered aloud if Leroy simply needed time alone. And they figured he hadn’t gone far.
“Unless he borrowed someone’s pony and cart, he’s on foot,” Joseph said, scratching his head with his free hand. “Leroy and I had a gut long talk on the way over to fish, and I made mighty clear what I expect from him.”
Did Joseph provoke Leroy? she worried, feeling tense.
Joseph must have sensed it, because he turned suddenly. “This isn’t yours to fret over, love. He has to respect ya, or he’s goin’ to be in hot water with me.”
Rachel noted the frustration in his voice, and it, too, concerned her greatly. Truth be known, she disliked this wedge between father and son. “Leroy wouldn’t run away, would he?” Her voice cracked.
Joseph was quiet for much too long, and the crickets near the porch filled up the silence. “He’s never been one to rebel,” he said at last.
“What ’bout the tent meeting? He did show some interest initially,” she asked, wondering if perhaps Maggie had given him the idea. “Would he sneak off to that without askin’, do ya think?”
“It’s hard to imagine after our gut time fishin’ together. I assured him of my love . . . and for all of his brothers and sisters. Truth be told, we came to a truce.” Joseph yawned and said they should head inside, late as it was getting.
A truce? If that was the case, then why would Leroy just up and seemingly vanish?
17
Still in a joyful daze, Maggie went with Lila and Luke to the parking area. After sitting for so long, the pain and stiffness had increased, but she tried not to notice, and she made it to the car with the aid of her cane and some help from Lila. The spur-of-the-moment plan was to meet Lila’s family at a nearby restaurant owned by her father’s uncle.
“You don’t mind if Glenn Brubaker meets us there, do ya?” Lila asked as the two of them got settled in the back seat.
Luke turned to tell them that Glenn wanted to share the rest of his story with Maggie. “I hope that’s okay with you girls.”
Maggie had hoped she might have the opportunity to talk with him further, so she was pleased at this turn of events. “Your parents must know Glenn, then,” she remarked.
“Jah, and his whole family,” Luke said as he turned the key in the ignition.
“Are they all comin’?” Lila asked her brother.
Maggie held her breath, wondering.
“Just Glenn this time,” Luke said, backing out of the parking spot. “A little pie and some fellowship will be nice.”
Maggie was relieved that Glenn hadn’t come along in the car. Then again, as carefree and happy as she felt tonight, it really wouldn’t have mattered.
It was nine-thirty when Rachel heard footsteps on the porch out back, and she sat up in bed to listen. If it was Maggie, Rachel would have expected to see headlights shine on the bedroom window shades, but there had been nothing of the kind as she rested, eyes open as she prayed for both Maggie and Leroy.
Now someone was loudly running up the stairs, and that was definitely not something Maggie could do. Besides, Maggie slept downstairs.
Still keening her ear, Rachel heard a creak from the two floorboards toward the end of the long hallway. Leroy must have returned and was headed to the room he shared with his younger brothers.
Rising from the bed, Rachel pulled on her cotton duster and crept barefoot down the hall. She knocked lightly on the doorjamb, and Leroy cracked the door open, only his face showing. “Just wanted to make sure you’re home all right,” she whispered.
Without meeting her gaze, he nodded.
“We missed ya at supper, Leroy.”
He pressed his lips together. “I had someplace to go,” he said, staring at the doorjamb.
“Well, you’re safely home now.” She gave him a smile.
“Gut Nacht,” he said and softly closed the door.
Making her way back toward her room, Rachel could hear Joseph’s gentle snoring, and the sound of it calmed her some. Even so, she wondered how he’d managed to give in to sleep before knowing Leroy was home. He knows his son better than I do.
How much later will Maggie be? Rachel thought, fretting like a mother hen.
At the restaurant, which was filling up with folks Maggie assumed were other tent goers, Luke asked for a table to accommodate ten.
Once they were seated, Glenn came around and sat next to Maggie, Luke on the other side of him. In a few minutes, Cousin Tom and Sally and their other children arrived and joined them, all dressed in their Sunday clothes, the younger two boys looking very sleepy as they rubbed their eyes. One of the boy’s black suspenders had broken and was hanging loose.
After pie and ice cream had been ordered all around and everyone else was talking, Glenn asked Maggie how she had enjoyed the service.
She pondered that. “God’s presence is the most powerful thing there is, I think. Sometimes it can shut everything else out, even fear.” She wasn’t ready yet to share fully about the events of this evening. Her prayer had been so very personal, between herself and the Lord above.
“Well, I can’t speak for you, of course, but I remember being afraid when I realized how weak and needy I was,” Glenn said, his expression vulnerable.
Without thinking, she realized she was nodding in agreement, which encouraged Glenn to go on. “I was afraid of being paralyzed, you see.”
She swallowed hard. A similar thought had often lurked at the back of her mind. How bad will my illness get? she’d wondered, having heard the whispers about Dat’s side of the family. The fears had fed into her worries about marriage. What if her husband ended up having to take care of her?
“I want to hear more,” Maggie said quietly.
“Sure,” Glenn said. “I was hoping I’d have this chance. It was only a few years ago that I, too, was living with constant pain, and no one seemed to know what was wrong with me—not a single doctor, and none of my family.” He paused to draw a breath. “It was my first year in college, and I’d fallen and hit my head while playing basketball with some fellows from church. I had to have stitches, but soon the injury began to affect my legs, and within a few days, I could hardly walk.”
Glenn seemed so robust, Maggie could scarcely imagine it.
“I was terrified when I asked my father and the elders of our church to anoint me with oil and pray . . . afraid I wouldn’t be healed.” He opened his Bible and lightly turned the pages, and when he found the verse he wanted, Glenn glanced at her a moment, as if waiting for permission to place the Bible between them.
She nodded, and he pointed to Second Corinthians, chapter twelve, his finger tracing along the words as he read, beginning with verse nine. “‘And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee, for my strength is made perfect in weakness.’” Then, skipping down to the last phrase of verse ten, Glenn read, “‘For when I am weak, then am I strong.’” He looked at Maggie, his gaze unfaltering. “Just think of that.”
She was moved by the words he’d read and equally touched by the fact that he seemed so interested in encouraging her yet again.
“The men prayed, and God healed me,” Glenn said, eyes shining. “And to this day, I couldn’t be more thankful.” He closed his Bible and set it on the table. “I’m praying you’ll be healed, too, Maggie.”
“Denki,” she said, her gratitude threatening to overcome her.
They talked about the fact that not everyone was healed. “But no matter our circumstances,” Glenn said, “God’s grace is present to carry us . . . always. We can count on Him.”
“For some, it might sound too sim
ple,” Maggie said softly. “It doesn’t mean I’m not anxious for the suffering to pass, though. And I get impatient waiting . . . waiting for something good to come of it.”
“I understand, Maggie.” He nodded. “I really do.”
The journey through difficulties like chronic illness was overwhelming at times, she knew all too well.
“Remember that God cares—He weeps over us.” Glenn sighed, then offered Maggie a small smile. “Remember to seek the Healer and not the healing. Whether you’re ever healed or not, Christ Jesus is by far the more important gift.”
Maggie nodded. It seemed odd, but Glenn had chosen to befriend her. He understands, she thought, amazed.
———
When the waitress brought their desserts to the table, Cousin Tom offered a blessing on the food, and Maggie silently gave thanks for Glenn’s encouragement to her. When the prayer was finished, Maggie picked up her fork and took a small bite of the delicious cherry pie, glad that others, too, had ordered ice cream on the side.
Tom and Sally asked Glenn questions about the next location for the tent crusade, as well as how they might pray for him and his family as they traveled that summer. Maggie listened closely and learned that the crusade would be moving to Souderton, Pennsylvania, after July twenty-second.
Only three more weeks here, she thought.
18
While outside the bishop’s house before Preaching service the next morning, Maggie observed Grace’s beau, Martin Lantz, and his close-in-age brothers. They had lined up toward the end of the men’s line behind the house, and Maggie noticed how reverent Martin was, not engaging in talk like some of the other unbaptized fellows did at times. Grace has a real fine fella, she thought, happy for her sister while waiting to go to baptismal instruction with the other candidates.
From where she stood with her cane, Maggie could see Grace inching forward in the women’s line, Miriam right behind her. Someday my sisters will be married and have their own families. Healthy and lively as both Grace and Miriam were, she knew it was true. And fun-loving Miriam . . . goodness, she’ll be snatched right up once she’s old enough to attend youth gatherings. Maggie smiled at the notion.
Since it was the Lord’s Day, Maggie forced her thoughts toward worship, forsaking this self-pity she was sinking into and choosing instead to dwell on Christ’s redemption. Then, inexplicably recalling the chapter in Mark’s Gospel, she was once more gripped by a profound desire to experience her own miracle of healing. Like Glenn Brubaker.
If that happened, she thought, I might someday be able to become a wife and mother.
The menfolk began to move around the side of the house, to their entrance into the temporary House of Worship. Once the last of the young men had disappeared around the house, it was the women’s turn to head toward their entrance at the back door.
When everyone else had gone inside, the twelve baptismal candidates waited for one of the preachers to come for them. Meanwhile, Maggie noticed Jimmy over with the other young men. He smiled at her, as he sometimes did, and then he began to walk toward her. “How are ya doin’, Maggie?” He looked so handsome in his black suit and polished black shoes.
Taken aback, Maggie nodded. “I’m all right. How’re you?”
“Just fine,” he said; then he surprised her by saying he was glad she was taking the classes, too. “I’m learnin’ all sorts of new things,” he said, more animated than usual, and she wondered why.
She agreed with a nod of her head. “My Dat says it’s important to pay attention in these classes.” Maggie felt a little ill at ease about this unexpected conversation and inwardly kicked herself for how bland her reply seemed. If only she could have thought of something else to say to this fellow she so admired.
Jimmy smiled. “Your Dat’s right.”
And with that, she expected him to return to the other young men, but he stayed with her, and she worried his being there would become too obvious, if not awkward.
Without glancing toward the fellows across the walkway, she could feel their gaze on them. Frankly, it wasn’t considered appropriate for young men to mingle with the young women before or after Preaching.
“I’m afraid we have spectators,” she said softly. “They’re probably wondering what you’re doing over here on the girls’ side.”
“Let them wonder,” Jimmy said, eyes serious. “Will ya be at Singing tonight?”
“Not this time,” she said simply, her cheeks warming.
Another uncomfortable moment passed before he nodded. “Well, it was nice talkin’ with ya again, Maggie. I’ve been thinkin’ ’bout ya.” Another pause, and then he added, “Well, I’d better get back.”
“Jah,” she whispered.
In due time, they all filed into the house in an orderly fashion, just like the church members and children had earlier. They headed upstairs to a spare room, where they sat on wood benches to study two of the articles of the Dordrecht Confession with the minister, as well as to go over their own local church ordinance.
Maggie had no trouble paying attention, but after the class, when they made their way downstairs to join the rest of the People for the two sermons, Maggie wondered why Jimmy had approached her.
“I’ve been thinkin’ ’bout ya,” he’d said.
Surely it was just his way of being friendly. Besides, wasn’t he interested in Deborah?
After Preaching, Rachel helped the bishop’s wife, Annie Lantz, and a number of other women prepare to lay out the food for the fellowship meal. Meanwhile, Joseph and several other men were turning the wooden church benches into temporary tables for the three seatings of the light meal that always followed the service.
While working in the kitchen, Rachel noticed Maggie standing by herself on the back porch, looking quite solemn. Other young women of similar age milled about the lawn beneath the shade trees, doubtless seeking a cool breeze.
Where’s Grace? wondered Rachel. Typically Maggie and her next younger sister were each other’s shadows.
As Rachel placed utensils on the tables, she glanced out the side windows, wondering if Grace was with her sister now. But when she went to look out the back window a minute or so later, she saw that Maggie was still alone. Should I go out? Will it upset her?
Unsure of herself or the strength of her delicate connection to Joseph’s eldest, Rachel continued her duties, distributing platters of bread with cheese spread or peanut butter, and slices of snitz pie, around on the long tables. Despite Maggie’s health troubles, it wasn’t usual for her to look so forlorn. Had the tent meetings stirred up something troubling? Rachel caught herself frowning—so much so that Annie asked if she was all right.
“Oh, just deep in thought,” Rachel told her.
“Are ya sure?” the seventy-year-old woman asked, apparently unconvinced.
Nodding, Rachel decided she ought to at least attempt to talk to Maggie. Maybe this was her opportunity to reach out to the young woman. Rachel had completed her responsibility indoors, and while the first seating took place, the one meant for the oldest church members, Rachel slipped out the back door and approached her stepdaughter. “Are ya feelin’ all right, Maggie?”
“Just a little tired.” Maggie wiped her brow with the back of her hand. “I thought of sitting over on the steps, maybe.”
“Well, do what’s best for ya, all right?”
Maggie nodded.
“Is Grace around?”
“Oh . . . she’s takin’ a walk,” Maggie said, looking a bit sheepish. “And Miriam’s over yonder with some cousins.”
Rachel looked toward the springhouse and spotted Miriam giggling with some other young girls. Turning back to Maggie, she said, “I’m concerned ’bout you, dear.”
Maggie looked at her, eyes watering. “I guess I should’ve stayed home today,” she said.
“We might be able to leave earlier than planned. If not, I can run ya home.” Rachel meant it.
Maggie looked surprised, if not moved by the of
fer. “Ach, wouldn’t want to cut short your fellowship.” Maggie brushed tears away. “Really, I’ll just go an’ sit on the steps.”
“Well, if you’re sure.”
Maggie nodded. “It’s kind of you. Denki, Rachel.”
Reluctant to leave her there, Rachel turned to head back into the kitchen, but she glanced back once she was inside. Something’s dreadfully wrong, she thought, never having seen Maggie like this.
———
Seated now on the porch steps, Maggie could see the field lanes where the bishop’s mule team came and went from the barn to the perimeter of the field. Grace was in the near distance, swinging her arms as she walked with Hallie Lantz, Martin’s older sister. Before leaving to walk with Hallie earlier, Grace had asked if Maggie minded, and Maggie had assured her it was fine. Yet Maggie couldn’t help feeling lonely, and seeing Grace so carefree and happy only served to punctuate what Maggie had thought earlier. My sisters and brothers will move away from home someday.
As she rubbed her painful leg below her knee, Maggie pondered the years her parents had taught her and her siblings about divine sovereignty. “Does God mean for me to always be this way?” she murmured.
“Are ya talkin’ to yourself?”
Maggie turned to see Miriam leaning down to look at her.
“Well, jah . . . guess I am.”
Miriam frowned suddenly and sat down next to her. “Are ya cryin’?”
Her little sister was so sweet and caring. “Come here,” Maggie said, slipping her arm around her. “You know somethin’? My stomach’s growling. Is yours?”
“I’m only hungry for some snitz pie,” Miriam said, leaning her head against Maggie. “I could eat sweets all day, I think. Like Mamm . . . remember?”
“She did have herself a sweet tooth, but she was disciplined enough not to eat them all day, silly.”
Miriam grew quiet for a moment. “Do ya think I’ll look like her when I grow up?” she asked at last.
The First Love Page 11