Katie's Journey to Love

by Jerry S. Eicher

  Katie lowered her head. Her German must be awful for him to reply in English. She should have kept her mouth shut. The young man probably hadn’t understood a word she’d said.

  “What did you tell him?” Margaret asked, once they were in the street.

  “I tried to remark that it was a nice day outside, but apparently my High German stinks. The correct accent has probably been lost after 300 years of living in America.”

  They all laughed, but Nancy came to her aid. “They actually speak Swiss German in Switzerland, so I wouldn’t worry about it. Save your High German for Germany. They might understand it there.”

  So she hadn’t made a complete fool out of herself, Katie thought as she watched water in the river flow past. This was a beautiful town, so quaint and old yet bustling with vigor at the same time. It was already growing on her, and she’d been here only a few minutes.

  “Sandwich?” Margaret asked, interrupting her thoughts. “And an apple?”

  “Yah, I’m hungry.” Katie reached for the offered items. “Starving, in fact, now that I think of it.”

  “And cheese?” Margaret broke off a piece for herself before passing the slab around.

  They must make quite a sight, Katie decided. Primitive savages from America. Here were four girls sitting on the river wall in the old town of Zurich, one of them with a camera strapped around her neck, and all of them breaking off cheese with their hands. Mamm would pass out in a faint from embarrassment, if she were here. Katie smiled at the thought. Mamm would be very happy for her. Ben too, of course. Mabel might not though. Katie shook her head. She much preferred thinking about Ben—and that wunderbah kiss at the airport.

  “Thinking of home?” Margaret’s voice was a tease.

  “Yah,” Katie admitted. Katie could feel the heat rising on her neck, but maybe the fresh river air was cooling her face so no one would notice. She’d have to think of something other than Ben’s kisses or she would be red all day long.

  “He is handsome,” Margaret said. “Can’t say that I blame you for falling hard. I’d have done the same thing.”

  “I’ve been very blessed,” Katie said. “And I should go buy a postcard. I promised to write to him.”

  “You do have it bad!” Margaret laughed. “That’s a good idea though—sending something home to our families. Although I think I’ll make my contact tonight on Facebook. Cheaper that way too.”

  Obviously she didn’t have a computer, and Katie wasn’t sure what Facebook was. Ben wouldn’t either. Postcards were better for them, even if they might be expensive and required postage. She’d been expecting that expense though. And Ben and Mamm would treasure every postcard she’d send, so she’d send lots of them. These were days to treasure for the rest of her life. She might be an old woman before she came on a trip like this again.

  “Everybody ready to go?” Nancy was on her feet. “Time to start the tour of the Old Town of Zurich. By the way, this is the Limmat River, in case you wondered.”

  “I don’t care about the river,” Margaret said. “But with my body fortified by bread and cheese, let us set forth. Lead the way, oh brave leader.”

  Nancy laughed. “You’d better save some of that joking energy for walking. We have a ways to go.” She opened a guidebook she produced from her purse. “If you look across the river, there is the Grossmunster church where our forefathers listened to Zwingli’s preaching. That’s the place where our faith first began to grow.”

  Katie gazed across the river at the immense church with twin towers reaching toward the sky. Sharon snapped away with her camera as Nancy continued. “The church is also the burial place of Zurich’s patron saints, or so it says here. The hall crypt under the choir dates from the late eleventh century. The church design is an excellent example of early Romanesque architecture.”

  “Some kind of culture,” Margaret commented. “They must have spent years building something like that.”

  “I think they did,” Nancy confirmed. “Cathedrals back in that time were often decades in the building—sometimes even centuries.”

  “Do we get to see the inside?” Sharon asked. “I’d like to see where our forefathers sat in their pews.”

  “Later we will,” Nancy said. “Let’s see the sights on this side of the river first.”

  “I like the narrow alleys,” Margaret noted as they walked along. “Take plenty of pictures, Sharon.”

  “You ought to take your own,” Sharon said, snapping away.

  “Why should I work harder than necessary?” Margaret said. “You take excellent pictures, so how could I do better than having copies made of yours?”

  “Flatter mouth,” Sharon muttered, but she looked pleased.

  “Over here we have the Fraumunster,” Nancy said. “That translates to ‘The Church of Our Lady.’ They’re not sure when it was originally built, but it was donated for a convent by Emperor Ludwig, also known as ‘Louis the German,’ in 853. The way it looks now comes from the thirteenth century, it says, so they must have made some renovations.”

  Katie looked up at the single steeple reaching into the sky. Three beautiful stained-glass windows adorned the front. Drawings of angels and the crucified Lord were engraved into the glass along with a multitude of other depictions of medieval life.

  “Right impressive,” Margaret said. “I do think they had more time than we did.”

  “They didn’t have airplanes in those days,” Sharon said as she stood back and snapped away with her camera.

  “Maybe they used those six hours of sleep I just lost.” Margaret rubbed her forehead. “I think it will take more than a few days to get over that.”

  “You’ll be okay with all these sights to see.” Nancy led the way forward with a confident expression. “We can sleep tonight.”

  “By the way, where are we staying?” Margaret asked.

  “At a bed-and-breakfast twenty minutes from here. Don’t worry, we’ll get there early so you can start your beauty sleep.”

  “I’m at death’s door, and she talks of beauty sleep,” Margaret commented with a short laugh.

  Nancy led the way up a series of steps and down some side streets, pausing to read her guidebook in front of another church before speaking. “We have here St. Peter’s Church. Its claim to fame is its twenty-eight and a half foot clock, the largest clock face in Europe. The minute hand alone is twelve feet long.”

  “That’s where my six hours went!” Margaret stared upward. “Ow! My neck hurts. Let’s find something to look at that doesn’t break my neck bones.”

  Nancy laughed. “You’ll enjoy the next stop. It’s where the old Roman Citadel once stood. Sort of their guard castle with big walls around it. It’s up on top of that hill,” she said as she pointed.

  “Wait until we’re up there before you tell us more,” Margaret said.

  The group walked a bit and then headed up the road that led to the hill. Upon reaching the top, all four girls paused. Before them lay an open, park-like area.

  “There’s not much to it,” Sharon said. “I don’t see any walls.”

  “I suppose those are long gone.” Nancy checked her guidebook. “It’s called the Lindenhof now. Famous for its giant chess games played under the linden trees.”

  “Why would you play chess outdoors?” Margaret asked.

  “And what’s giant about it?” Sharon added.

  “I think the answer is right over here,” Nancy said as she turned and headed down a path.

  Katie trailed behind the others as they approached a group of men on the side away from the river. She saw huge chess pieces sitting on the ground moments before Sharon said, “That’s what they are, all right. Chess pieces. They are giant, indeed.”

  “Shhh…” Nancy put her finger to her lips.

  They stood and watched quietly for quite awhile as two chess games took place in front of them. Mostly the games consisted of the four players just staring at the chess pieces. Only twice in the ten minutes they watched
, did one of the men move a piece.

  “How do they have time for this?” Sharon whispered. “It’s the middle of the day.”

  “They must have more time than we do,” Nancy suggested, leading the group of girls away from the game. “Or they make time for it.”

  “I think they’re using the six hours of sleep I lost,” Margaret murmured again.

  “She’s going to chew that all week,” Sharon commented.

  “I think we all need sleep,” Nancy said as they climbed down a long flight of steps. “But let’s finish this tour before we head out to the bed-and-breakfast. There’s still some things we want to see.”

  They arrived at the river again, and Nancy led the way back toward where they’d eaten lunch. She studied her guidebook as they walked.

  “What are you looking for?” Sharon asked, peeking over Nancy’s shoulder.

  “The plaque they put in for Felix Manz.” Nancy glanced around. “There it is, I think.”

  Margaret reached the plain stone first. It was embedded along the riverbank in a low wall. “What does it say?”

  “Can you read it?” Nancy asked Katie.

  Walking up to it, Katie tried. “Here were drowned in the middle of the Limmat from a fishing platform…” Katie stopped and laughed. “I’m not that good at reading German that’s not Scriptures, I guess.”

  “You’re doing okay,” Nancy encouraged her. “It says in my book that Felix Manz was drowned here, along with five other Anabaptists, between 1527 and 1532.”

  “It actually happened right there.” Sharon was gazing across the water as silence settled on the girls. “It’s hard to believe I’m really here…”

  Katie decided she’d have to write Ben about this moment. Here brave men had given their life for the faith. It seemed more real somehow, seeing the place with her own eyes. They must have had great strength to stand up to such pressure. Giving their lives rather than denying Da Hah’s ways. Ben would be encouraged by this, she thought.

  “Ready to move on?” Nancy asked.

  “Yah.” Katie broke out of her thoughts. “Can we find a place where they sell postcards? I’d like to mail one home about this.”

  “Sure! This place might have some.” Nancy walked toward a row of shops just off the riverbank.

  Katie’s eyes caught sight of several selections as they entered one of the stores. She glanced over them, choosing a scene of the river with the twin towers of the Grossmunster in the background. There was no sign of the plaque they’d just seen, but this was close enough.

  “Would you like to mail this?” the clerk, a cheerful-faced young man asked when Katie purchased the card.

  “Yah, I would like that.” Katie paid and rushed outside to the low wall by the river. She sat down and scribbled a few words on the back of the postcard.

  My dear, dear Ben: We are in Zurich right now, sitting along the banks of the Limmat River, where we just saw the plaque dedicated to Felix Manz. Oh Ben, I wish you could see all of this. I love you so much, Katie.

  Writing in Ben’s address, Katie took the postcard back inside where the other girls were still browsing. She picked out another postcard, this one featuring the huge face of the clock at St. Peter’s, then fished the unfamiliar money from her purse and paid the boy the two Euros he asked for after handing him the postcard for Ben.

  “Ready to go,” Katie whispered to the others once the clerk gave her a receipt. Only Margaret had purchased something. Katie noticed. Tomorrow she would send Mamm this postcard. She should have thought of that today, but her thoughts had been more about Ben than of anyone else, even Mamm.

  “Okay, ready for the Grossmunster?” Nancy asked, leading the way across a stone bridge.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Ten minutes later Katie stood with her hands on a small rope as she looked up toward an elevated pulpit. All around her the dark interior of the Grossmunster church pressed in. It was enough to dampen a person’s spirits completely. And to think that here a few of the first Anabaptist leaders had once gathered to hear the great Reformer Zwingli thunder forth on his sermons. No wonder they hadn’t stayed. She would also have left to find a place more comforting.

  “You can’t go up to the pulpit,” Margaret whispered in Katie’s ear. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “You’re the one who’s thinking about it,” Katie retorted.

  Margaret’s mischievous smile was answer enough. Of course Margaret wouldn’t disobey the tour instructions, even if it was self-guided—no matter how much she wanted to stand behind the pulpit Zwingli used.

  Katie followed Margaret as they moved away to look at the huge organ above them. Katie gasped at the sight.

  “It’s awesome!” Margaret said.

  “The famous Grossmunster organ.” Nancy walked up with her guidebook open. “It doesn’t look like anything important really happened here. It’s just a really big, gorgeous organ.”

  “I’d like to hear someone play it,” Margaret said, not moving from the spot.

  Nancy laughed. “We’d probably have to come back on Sunday for that—if anyone plays it any longer. There’s nothing here saying whether it works.”

  It must be a little wicked to even hear such a musical instrument played, Katie thought. But she didn’t say anything to the others. They probably wouldn’t agree. Still, this might have been one of the reasons the Amish forefathers forsook such a place—to get away from dangers like this. Men should wait for heaven where Da Hah probably had something much greater than this set up. There no sin from this world would tempt a person after hearing such beautiful music.

  “Okay…next.” Margaret swung around on her heels. “I’ve seen enough of the organ.”

  “Over here.” Sharon motioned them from across the aisle. “I’ve been looking at these stained-glass windows. I want to get closer.”

  The three girls followed Sharon, moving up to a roped-off area and gazing at the sunlight twinkling through the colorful glass. Red, green, blue, and white were all blended together.

  “There are so many drawings in the glass, it’s confusing,” Katie said.

  “It’s still beautiful,” Margaret said. “And the time it must have taken to make that stained glass!”

  “Don’t start again with the ‘lost six-hour’ joke,” Sharon muttered.

  “I wasn’t planning to,” Margaret shot back.

  “Girls, girls!” Nancy interrupted. “We’re all tired, but let’s not get grumpy.”

  “I’m not grumpy,” Margaret said.

  They all laughed.

  Nancy turned the page in her guidebook. “Okay, let’s see…what’s next? We’d better take a quick look at the crypt in the church basement. It claims to be the largest in Switzerland.”

  “Lead the way!” Sharon said, motioning for Nancy to go first.

  As they went down the steps, the stairwell opened into a basement area that had three pillared arches supporting the ceiling.

  “What’s there to see in this gloomy place?” Margaret asked.

  “A crypt,” Sharon said.

  “What’s a crypt used for?”

  “Storing dead bodies,” Sharon said.

  Margaret shrieked, the sound echoing off the stone walls. “Yikes! That’s what I was afraid you’d say. Get me outta here.”

  Nancy laughed. “Calm down. The bodies aren’t here anymore. They were just stored here for awhile, I think.”

  “You think?” Margaret said before fleeing up the stairs.

  “I think we’d better go after her,” Sharon said. “I’m feeling a little weak myself. I’ve never been in a crypt before.”

  Nancy glanced over at Katie. “Are you also going pale on me?”

  “I don’t think so,” Katie said. “I guess I lack imagination.”

  “I guess I do too then,” Nancy said. “But even so, maybe we should go too.”

  “I agree,” Katie said. “It is a little gloomy.”

  They followed Margaret and Sharon o
utside, and Nancy checked her guidebook. “Zwingli’s parsonage is up the hill a bit. And the house where the first baptisms were performed is about three streets over.”

  “I don’t want to see a parsonage,” Margaret spoke up. “But let’s see where they baptized our forefathers.”

  “Agreed?” Nancy glanced around.

  When Katie and Sharon nodded, Nancy led the way, following the guidebook’s instructions. They arrived at the designated place. A fountain stood in the street with a statue over it. Water bubbled with soft gurgles.

  “Somewhere in this vicinity,” Nancy read, “was the house where Felix Manz’s mother lived. It was here on the night of January 21, of 1525, that the first Anabaptist rebaptisms were performed. And water taken from this fountain may well have been used.”

  “So why that night?” Sharon asked. “I don’t know that I’ve ever heard that explained.”

  Nancy glanced through her pages. “It doesn’t say, but I think Zwingli and the city council had ordered our forefathers to stop the activities they’d been engaged in or else. They were doing things like street preaching and pressing for further changes, which the city council was unwilling to entertain. They all knew what ‘or else’ meant—likely prison time.”

  “So what happened?” Sharon dipped her fingers in the water of the fountain and held up her hand so the drops splashed on the street.

  If the water that night came from this fountain, Katie thought, this must be almost holy water. And yet it couldn’t be. Her people didn’t believe in making things Da Hah had made holy. Such things were a blessing to all mankind and shouldn’t serve as a distraction from Da Hah Himself.

  Nancy had turned another page and started reading aloud:

  It so happened that when they had gathered together that a great anxiety came upon them, and they were pressed within their hearts. They knelt and cried out to the most High God in heaven, asking that He would give to show them His divine will and have mercy. After the prayer, one of them stood up and besought Conrad Grebel for God’s sake to baptize him with the true Christian baptism. Felix Manz then ran out with a milk bucket and returned with it filled with water. So Conrad Grebel baptized the first men, including Blaurock. Who, after he received his baptism from Grebel proceeded to baptize the rest in the room.