The First Love

by Beverly Lewis

Ruth pushed her Kapp string over her shoulder. “Where there’s a will, there’s certainly a way . . . at least when it comes to love and things of the heart.”

  “S’pose you’re right, but it would’ve been difficult for Joseph to make the trip to Myerstown on weekends, considering his family and all.”

  Ruth stopped tatting and placed her needle and the pillow case in her lap. “You know, I don’t recall ever hearin’ how it was that you weren’t yet married when your sister Sarah and I conspired for you and Joseph to meet.”

  Laughing, Rachel said, “Well, that’s because I’ve never said why. Haven’t talked much ’bout it, really.” She paused and glanced out the sparkling clean window, out to a small garden with a white wrought-iron bench. “Not even Joseph knows.”

  “So it’s a secret, then?”

  “Not really . . . just complicated.”

  Ruth leaned forward, an air of expectation about her. “Now you’ve got me real curious.”

  Rachel shook her head. “It’s not painful anymore, so I s’pose I can talk about it.”

  A faint flutter of surprise appeared on Ruth’s face as Rachel began to share what had kept her single into her thirties.

  The August that Rachel Glick was turning sixteen had been quite memorable. She’d been itching to attend the Sunday evening Singings with her next older sister, Kate, who at eighteen already had a beau. That beau had a younger cousin, Eli Fisher, and while Eli had been known to date more than one girl at a time—against the rules of their church district—the deacon hadn’t talked to him yet about it, since everyone just assumed he’d settle down right quick once he joined church the following year, as per his intention.

  One night after Rachel’s second Singing, Jonathan Fisher, Kate’s beau, arranged for Eli to double up with Rachel. Shy and not sure this was a good idea, Rachel reluctantly agreed, heartened by the fact her big sister was along, too. After all, it wasn’t as if she’d be alone with Eli.

  The moonlit ride along the back roads was lovely, the summer air fragrant with honeysuckle, and the familiar sounds of insects mingling with the tinkle of the tack and traces on Jonathan’s road horse. Rachel decided to quit fretting and enjoy herself. The conversation with Eli turned out to be fun and made her laugh and kept her engaged during the long ride.

  By the time Jonathan dropped off Rachel and her sister at home, Rachel secretly hoped Eli might seek her out the next time the youth gathered for activities. And when one date led to one more, and then to another, until it was time for Rachel to celebrate her seventeenth birthday, she was sure Eli Fisher was the fellow for her. Thankfully, Eli was talking about moving toward a serious courtship. With all of her heart, Rachel believed he was earnest. She was falling in love.

  “I’m real nervous, sittin’ here,” Ruth said, frowning and leaning forward just then.

  “Well, there’s more to the story. But that’s how I found my way to the Mennonite revival meetings not far away, seeking solace after another girl caught Eli’s attention. The meetinghouse was filled with singing and sermons that helped soothe my heart, let me tell ya. I’m not sure how I would’ve managed to survive the pain of it all without those,” Rachel said. “And I promised myself I’d never let another fella care for me like that.”

  “I certainly understand why you’d think thataway.” Ruth gave her a comforting look. “You were so young, too.”

  “But stupidly, I broke my own promise,” Rachel revealed quietly, still feeling ever so frustrated with herself when remembering what had later transpired. “After several months, I let Eli talk me into goin’ back to him. It was wintertime by then, and he managed to convince me how sincerely sorry he was . . . said he’d been a Dummkopp to let me go.”

  “Oh, my dear.” Ruth’s hand flew to her chest. “So what happened?”

  “Well, the same thing: Just two months after we got back together, another girl caught his fancy . . . and this time, he was gone for good.”

  There was a long silence between them, and Rachel felt surprised at how caught up she’d been in this account—she’d experienced something of a release, sharing all of this. “Perhaps now you understand why I was still unmarried in my thirties.”

  “Hard as this was for ya, my dear, your heartache brought you to Joseph Esh,” Ruth said, her eyes searching Rachel’s. “Never forget.”

  “Jah, out of all of that rubbish came my present happiness.”

  Ruth added, “I’ve learned from my own experience that hope often springs from despair.”

  The woman’s words resonated with Rachel. “You’re quite right,” she whispered, ever so thankful for the passing of years.

  27

  Maggie waited outdoors after Preaching service with a group of young women her age, including Cousin Deborah, who mentioned in passing that she was thinking of accepting Elijah Zook’s invitation to go out riding after Singing that evening.

  It took a moment for this to register, and then astonishment swept through Maggie.

  “Aren’t ya goin’ with Jimmy Beiler?” Maggie asked, trying to sound only mildly interested.

  Judging from Deborah’s expression, it was her turn to be surprised. “We’re not dating,” she said, “if that’s what you think.”

  “No, it’s just that—”

  “You mean because he took me home that one time?”

  Maggie shrugged, feeling silly now.

  “I just needed a ride,” Deborah said as she glanced over at the fellows hanging around the stable. Elijah Zook smiled real big just then, returning Deborah’s glance. “Jimmy’s nothin’ more than a friend.”

  Hoping she hadn’t let on how bewildered she felt, Maggie did not reply. To think she assumed the two of them were a couple! How had she been so clueless?

  The thought of Jimmy’s being free to spend time with her, perhaps, made Maggie wonder if he actually did like her as more than a friend. Oh, she wanted him to notice that she was doing fairly well now—no cane, no limp—and could even go with him after Singing if he chose to invite her. And now, the more she was around him, the more she wished their relationship could lead to something more. Dear Lord, what do I do?

  “Maggie?” Deborah was poking her. “They’re calling die Youngie in for the fellowship meal. You comin’?”

  “Ach, sorry.”

  Deborah giggled, and Maggie didn’t know if she was laughing at her or whether she had caught Elijah Zook’s smile again.

  Jimmy never was seeing my cousin, she thought, trying to comprehend this fact. It was the only thing on Maggie’s mind as the youth filed in for the light meal.

  “I’m planning on goin’ to Singing tonight,” Maggie told Grace that afternoon as they sat on the grass beneath the backyard’s biggest shade tree, a tree Maggie and Grace had climbed many times during their childhood to sit and share secrets where no one could see or find them.

  This was one of the few Sunday afternoons they hadn’t gone as a family to visit Dawdi Reuben, because Dat said it was too hot for even their best road horse. Although Maggie missed seeing Dawdi, she was thankful, wanting to be well rested enough to stay out should Jimmy ask her. Of course, she dared not let on her hopes to Grace.

  “Glad to hear it,” Grace said, flicking an ant off her dress.

  Stretching her legs out on the grass, Maggie truly felt wonderful. How good it was to be with her close sister on this summer day, the pretty landscape all around them. “It’ll be nice to spend time with the other young folk.”

  “Other than just me, ya mean?”

  “Oh, you!” Maggie poked her playfully.

  They smiled, enjoying being together, teasing and laughing.

  “It’s gut to see you out of your room . . . and the house,” Grace said. “Are ya still readin’ the Good Book a lot?”

  Maggie said she was. “I must be hungry for spiritual food. That’s what the tent evangelist called it during his sermons.”

  Grace listened, seemingly thoughtful.

  “Preacher Brubaker
says all of us have a great yearnin’, whether we admit it or not—a longing to fill the void in our hearts. We either fill it with things that bring no contentment, or we fill it with the Lord.”

  Grace was nodding her head now. “Martin talks like this sometimes. He reads the Bible quite a bit, too.”

  “Well, it’s a comfort,” Maggie said, hoping that might interest Grace in reading it, as well. “It’s changed my life.”

  “You sure it’s not those tent meetings?”

  “The meetings were wonderful, but reading the Bible is something I can do on my own. In fact, just reading a single chapter in the book of Proverbs each day for a month would fill you up with oodles of wisdom.”

  “Jah, I could do that, starting in August,” said Grace.

  Maggie smiled, glad her sister was open to the idea.

  At that moment, Miriam came around the house, bouncing her ball down the back walkway.

  “I wonder where Andy and Stephen are,” Maggie said, feeling sorry for their little sister, over there by herself. “They usually play with Miriam on Sunday afternoons.”

  “Dat and the boys all ran down to the fishing hole. Maybe they’ll jump in and swim in their trousers, it’s so hot.”

  “Hope they changed out of their for-gut clothes first,” Maggie said. She’d only known Dat and the boys to do this occasionally, and only when it was this warm out. A trip to the swimming hole wasn’t a typical Lord’s Day afternoon, to be sure.

  “Oh, they changed.” Grace laughed softly. “Dat saw to that.”

  “Well then, we’d better go an’ play catch with Miriam,” Maggie said.

  Grace rose to go over and join Miriam, who was counting how many times she bounced her ball without stopping.

  Maggie was getting up when she heard someone behind her. She turned, and there was Leroy, wet to the skin, running toward her. “Leroy!” she called. “Hoch dich naah!”

  Surprisingly, he came and sat right down exactly as she asked, smelling like pond water, his black pants sopping and stuck to his legs. His short-sleeved white shirt was dry, however, so he’d evidently stripped down to the waist. “Looks like ya had a nice dip.”

  He gave a quick bob of his head. “Cooled me off some.”

  She figured Dat and the younger boys hadn’t returned yet, because they were nowhere to be seen. “Is now a gut time for us to talk?” she asked gently.

  “Guess so. Just till I dry off, though.”

  She could tell he wasn’t too keen on it, but she was relieved he didn’t go into the house to change clothes simply to avoid her. “It hurts me to see ya upset so much of the time, Bruder,” she began. “If there’s any way I can help, please tell me.”

  Leroy seemed to take that in, though he didn’t offer any ideas. He listened as she continued to talk, keeping her voice low so as not to let her sisters hear what was on her heart. Grace appeared to have taken Miriam around toward the front of the house. “I was readin’ a psalm this past week—somethin’ I’ve memorized, I’ve read it so often.”

  He glanced her way, not scowling now. Yet she sensed his walls were up.

  “‘The righteous cry, and the LORD heareth, and delivereth them out of all their troubles. The LORD is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.’”

  Leroy’s expression was blank, like he’d heard the words but didn’t embrace their meaning.

  “None of us can know how long our troubles will last,” she told him, “but deliverance is bound to come eventually. I really think that’s what this verse is sayin’.” She noted Leroy’s suddenly sad face and sighed. “I try to remind myself that God is near when we’re heartbroken. Like you are right now.”

  He looked at her, his hazel eyes ever so big. “You don’t understand, Maggie. I may be brokenhearted, but I’m not at all righteous . . . so how can that verse be for me?”

  She pondered that. “None of us is righteous, but I happen to know that you do seek to follow God’s path.” She wasn’t inclined to preach at him, so she was careful how she said it.

  “Jah, before the day Mamm died, I did.” His voice was taut.

  She gently touched his shoulder. “What happened that day? Can ya tell me?”

  Bowing his head, Leroy stared at the grass between his feet. He was silent for so long, it was painful for Maggie to witness. She looked away, praying silently for wisdom . . . for a way to help her dear brother.

  Then, when she thought he would never speak, he lifted his head and sighed audibly. “Just before Mamm passed, I made a promise to her.”

  A promise? Was this what had been eating away at Leroy all these months?

  “But then Rachel came along and kept me from followin’ through with it.” He stopped talking suddenly, his face flushed and perspiring.

  A wave of sorrow passed over Maggie, and she wished she knew how to comfort him.

  “I failed Mamm, don’t ya see?” Leroy said, pressing his lips together in a grimace. “Dat took his eyes off all of us kids the moment he met Rachel. And then he married her.”

  Maggie was startled; while she had been taken aback by the speed of her father’s remarriage, in her view, Rachel was a gift to their father, not a distraction. But she knew it might make things worse if she pointed out how mistaken Leroy was.

  “I promised Mamm I’d never forget her . . . that I wouldn’t let any of us forget her, either.” Leroy was weeping now into his hands. “And look what happened.”

  Maggie was thankful that neither Aunt Nellie nor Rachel was out sitting on the back porch like usual on such a hot Sunday afternoon. In the distance, she could hear Grace and Miriam’s muted laughter.

  “It was right after I made my promise that Mamm closed her eyes. She took one last breath, and that was it.” His face was streaked with tears. “I couldn’t believe she was gone, Maggie.”

  “You loved her dearly,” Maggie said quietly, moved by Leroy’s account. “I hope ya won’t forget that.”

  “But I let Mamm down, and now there’s nothin’ I can do about it.”

  Maggie would not argue that their father was a grown man who had every right to remarry. Mamm would want him to be happy again, she thought.

  “God knows everything ’bout ya, Leroy. He knows that you made Mamm a beautiful promise. Better yet, He knows why ya made it. And you know what else? The deeper our heart aches, the more we need to ask God to fill that ache.”

  Leroy seemed to take this in. He got up and stood there, looking down at her, the sun on his face now. “You’re the only one who cares what I think, Maggie,” he said, shielding his eyes with one hand.

  And before she could reply, he rushed off to the house and disappeared inside.

  “O Lord in heaven, please help my poor, confused brother,” Maggie whispered to the sky. “Send Thy love and surround him with it, every minute of every day. In Jesus’ name, I pray.”

  28

  Not only was Maggie pleased to be back at Singing that Sunday evening, but she was delighted when Jimmy walked across the freshly swept haymow to her during the refreshments of cold root beer and peanut butter cookies. As was their way, he was still wearing his Sunday clothes, looking more handsome than Maggie had ever seen him.

  There they talked, with the earthy smell of farm animals below and the sweet scent of the neatly stacked hay above. Never once did he mention Maggie’s missing cane, or that she typically just sat with other girls during this halfway point in the gathering. Rather, Jimmy asked about her week and what she had been doing. He also seemed eager to mention that he’d seen her walking back from the mill with her father. “It made me smile to see the two of you together, out for a walk.” That was the closest he came to mentioning her renewed vitality.

  The thought crossed her mind that the fact she looked as strong as the other young women present likely played no small part in how they were standing there, talking so animatedly. And so, while she hadn’t planned to bring it up today, she felt now might be a goo
d time. “I really appreciate you telling me about those pills, Jimmy.”

  His eyes lit up. “You’re still taking them, then. Have they been helpful?”

  “So far, yes,” she said shyly. “And I have you to thank.”

  He waved it off. “Any gut friend would’ve done the same thing.”

  Jimmy’s smile warmed her heart. And later, when everyone resumed singing, she couldn’t recall ever seeing him smile at her quite like that—with his eyes, too. It gave her such joy, she found herself singing all the more energetically. So much so that Grace glanced at her several times, grinning as if she sensed what Maggie was feeling.

  Afterward, quite a few of the youth milled about for more than an hour, fellowshipping with the cordial couple who’d hosted the barn gathering. And, perhaps because it had gotten quite late, Jimmy headed for his courting buggy without asking Maggie or anyone else out riding. She wondered at that when he’d been so attentive to her during refreshments, but it could be he had an early start tomorrow morning at the smithy’s. It’s all right, she told herself. Another time, maybe.

  Though a little disappointed by the evening’s end, she was grateful for a ride home with Grace and her well-mannered beau. Still, the truth remained: Jimmy’s endearing smile surely meant something. How could it not?

  At the end of the walkway to the side door, she thanked Grace and Martin for the lift, then walked to the porch and stood there, thinking she might just stroll around the backyard a bit, since she was still feeling good and the moonlight was so bright. Oh, the simple joy of walking without pain!

  There had been moments since Rachel’s marriage to Joseph when she had to stop and pinch herself. One of those had taken place on this first day of August, a very busy Wednesday. She’d turned around from beating the rag rugs on the clothesline, and there was Leroy, carrying the kitchen scraps in a trash bag, heading for the compost pile. He didn’t say a word, just whistled a tune she didn’t recognize. Like Joseph does, she thought. If she hadn’t witnessed it herself, she might have thought she was dreaming. And when he returned, she thanked him wholeheartedly, though Leroy simply nodded and tapped his straw hat in return.