A Simple Change

by Judith Miller

  When Brother Herman hesitated a moment, I wondered if, like my father, he thought I’d overstepped the proper limits of good manners. “The work is assigned by the elders in the villages, but we match the ability of the worker to the job. When the children are young, they go to school. In the morning they learn from books, and in the afternoon they begin to learn a trade. If they excel at working with animals, weaving baskets, making brooms, making clocks, or tailoring, then they continue with that work when they are older. You understand?”

  “What if you don’t like the work you’re assigned? Are you given permission to do some other job?”

  “Much would depend on where workers are needed, but we try to do our best to keep everyone content with their labor. For a man to find satisfaction in his labor is a gut thing.”

  I wanted to ask if I could visit the school and possibly assist the teacher, but I knew this wasn’t the proper time. Even though women weren’t permitted to teach, perhaps I’d be allowed to help in some way. It seemed a shame to let my education and experience go to waste. I hoped I’d have a chance to speak to one of the elders about my job assignment later in the day.

  Brother Herman pushed his hat back from his forehead. “For you, we have considered your Mutter’s illness and know you will want to help with her care.”

  “Yes, that’s very important to me.” His remark caused me to wonder if caring for Mother would be my only work.

  “Ja, is gut to care for one another, but you will also help one of the sisters with cleaning the quarters where the outside workers are housed. It is next to the woolen mill and not so far from where you and your parents will be living. Sister Margaret needs extra help, and the elders thought work close to home would be a gut choice for you.”

  I hoped Sister Margaret would also think me a good choice. I didn’t have a lot of experience performing household duties, but I was pleased I wouldn’t be far from home so I could frequently check on my mother. “I am pleased you were so thoughtful in your decision.” I leaned a little closer. “Who are these outside workers you mentioned, Brother Herman?”

  He slapped the leather reins, and the horses immediately picked up their pace. “Some are seasonal workers who come here to help harvest or plant. They stay only a short time and then move on. There are others who work in the woolen mill or at other more permanent jobs, and they stay with us longer. We have enough work to keep some busy throughout the year.”

  His explanation surprised me. For some reason I hadn’t imagined anyone living in the villages unless he had joined the community. “And they all live in the building near the woolen mill?”

  He shook his head. “Not all of the outsiders, but all the men who work in the woolen mill in Middle live there.”

  “With their families?”

  He frowned. “Nein. They are all single men—no families. Would not be proper. You will see how it is. Sister Margaret will show you what is expected and answer your questions.”

  I leaned back and folded my hands in my lap. I wanted to ask more questions, but Brother Herman had sent me a clear message: Any further questions should be directed to Sister Margaret.

  The horses immediately obeyed when Brother Herman pulled back on the reins. The wagon came to a halt in front of a large brick house, much like many of the others we’d passed along the way. Wooden flower boxes flanking the porch appeared to be filled with fresh dirt, and an occasional daffodil added a hint of color along the walkway. I was struck by the uniform neatness—so different from the city.

  “Here we are. Your new home. I think you will find your space comfortable. Once your furniture arrives, it will be just like home.”

  Even though this house wasn’t at all similar to our home in Kansas City, it was attractive, and the peaceful surroundings would provide a restful atmosphere for Mother. And Brother Herman was right: Once our furniture arrived and we’d arranged our belongings throughout the rooms, a sense of home would prevail.

  Brother Herman waved us forward. “This way. Follow me.”

  After helping Mother from the wagon, my father supported her as she climbed the two steps into the small foyer of our new home. Two choices awaited us: Walk straight ahead and up the stairway or enter a door to the left of the front entrance. Brother Herman stood beside the closed door until all three of us squeezed inside.

  With a bright smile, he pushed down on the heavy metal door latch. “Welcome to your new home.”

  I waited until Mother and Father entered before I stepped inside. I could feel Brother Herman’s intense gaze upon me as I looked around the room. Except for a table and two chairs at the far end of the room and a multicolored woven rug that covered the majority of the pinewood floor, the room was bare. If the train didn’t arrive tomorrow, we’d be living without a sofa or comfortable chairs, and I worried about Mother’s comfort.

  As if he’d read my thoughts, Father looked at me and then turned to Brother Herman. “We may need to stay at the hotel until tomorrow.” He waved his hand toward the adjoining rooms. “We will need beds for tonight.”

  Brother Herman scratched his head. “You and Sister Almina can stay at my home. We have an extra bedroom, since our two sons have married.” He glanced at me. “I will make arrangements for you to stay upstairs with the Hetrigs. They have a daughter, and you can share her room. I am sure Sister Hanna and Brother Werner will be happy to have you.”

  I swallowed hard. The thought of spending my first night with strangers in these new surroundings wasn’t appealing. And wouldn’t Mother and Father be more comfortable in a hotel? I waited, expecting to hear Father politely decline the invitation.

  Instead, he nodded and smiled. “Thank you for your kind offer.”

  My mouth gaped wide enough to catch flies. “Thank you for your kind offer?” Was my father really accepting Brother Herman’s proposed arrangement? Fixing my eyes on my mother, I cleared my throat and waited until she looked at me.

  “I’m sure the Hetrigs would prefer to have me take a room at the hotel. They’ve never even met me.” As a hint of fear took hold, I sent a pleading look in Mother’s direction, hoping she would come to my aid.

  “They’re likely very kind, and it will give you an opportunity to become acquainted with their daughter. Perhaps you’re close to the same age.” She glanced at Brother Herman.

  “Nein, but I’m sure young Madelyn will be pleased to welcome you. I think she is nine or ten years old. A sweet girl—you will like her.” Brother Herman reached in his pocket and removed a pipe. “Your father said in one of his letters that you like young children, ja?”

  “I do like children. I was a teacher in Kansas City, but—”

  “Gut, then there is no problem. You and Madelyn will do fine together. There is no one at home right now, but I will take you to the Küchehaas and introduce you to Sister Hetrig. She works at the kitchen house where you will eat your meals. They are a gut family. Brother Werner is a supervisor at the grist mill, and their son, Brother Ritter, works at the woolen mill. Brother Ritter prefers to be addressed as Brother Ritt. You will like all of them.” He gave a firm nod that signaled the end of the discussion.

  Pleased or not, fearful or not, ill at ease or not, I would be spending the night in the home of strangers. Maybe Nathan had been correct. Maybe I should have remained in Kansas City. I pushed aside the notion. Wasn’t I the one who constantly reminded the children at the orphanage to remain open to new experiences? Shouldn’t I do the same? After all, nothing good would come from negative thoughts. No matter the circumstances, I wanted to be with my parents. I hoped our new neighbors would prove as likeable as Brother Herman promised.

  “We will need to get you proper clothing. I will ask Sister Hanna if she will see to it.”

  After delivering my parents to his home and seeing to their comfort, Brother Herman gestured for me to follow him. “Come. I will take you to meet Sister Hanna and the other sisters who work in the Küchehaas.”

  After I bid my parent
s good-bye, Mother waved me forward as Brother Herman strode across the room.

  He opened the door and waited for me to join him. “Your mother and father need to rest, but I am sure you want to see more of your new surroundings.”

  I did want to see more, and though I would have preferred to see it with my parents, I appreciated Brother Herman’s kindness. For a moment, our departure reminded me of the day my parents had taken me to boarding school. When they’d departed to return home, I’d felt as though I’d been marooned on a desert island. Though it hadn’t taken long for me to overcome the loneliness, I hadn’t forgotten those feelings. As an inkling of those same feelings attempted to take root, I pushed them aside and forced myself to focus on Brother Herman.

  “We will go this way. It is a little shorter.” Taking long strides, Brother Herman escorted me away from his home. If he’d detected any reluctance, he didn’t let on. Neither of us spoke until we neared a brick house that was larger than most of the others I’d seen. Brother Herman looked over his shoulder. “This is the Wieler Küche, where you will eat. We are going through the back door and into the kitchen, but when you come for dinner you will go to the front and enter through the women’s door. I am thinking your parents have already explained that the men and women sit at separate tables to eat their meals, ja?”

  When he arched his brows and waited for my response, I nodded. “Yes. But I don’t know which door is for the women.” There hadn’t been much time to learn about the rules on our journey, but perhaps once our family was reunited, my mother would feel well enough to instruct me.

  He smiled. “Just follow the other sisters, and you will be at the proper door.” He tapped on the kitchen door, stepped inside, and gestured for me to step forward. “Guten Tag, Sister Bertha. This is Jancey Rhoder—the daughter of Jurgen and Almina Rhoder.” Brother Herman tipped his head toward me. “Sister Bertha is the Küchebaas.” He grinned at the wide-hipped woman. “She makes sure everyone gets plenty of gut food and that it is served on time.”

  “With the help of the other sisters. Without them, I could not manage.” The gray-haired woman lifted an oversized metal spoon from a hook on the wall and lowered it into a kettle sitting atop the stove. She turned her gaze on me. “I remember your Mutter and Vater. Sister Mina was younger than I, but she could knit much better than girls twice her age.” She continued to stir the contents of the pot. “Does she still knit?”

  “Yes, when she’s able. Her health hasn’t been good for more than a year.”

  “Ja, I was sorry to hear.” She looked at Brother Herman. “Sister Jancey will be working in the Küche with us?”

  “Nein. I brought her to meet Sister Hanna. The Rhoders will be living in the rooms below the Hetrigs.”

  Sister Bertha stepped to a door that led from the large kitchen to the dining room. As she walked into the dining room, I peered around her and noticed long tables with benches arranged along both sides. A wide aisle separated the rows, likely the dividing line between the men and women. Sister Bertha stopped beside a woman with rosy cheeks. Soon, the two of them drew near, and Brother Herman stepped forward.

  “Guten Tag, Sister Hanna. I would like you to meet Jancey Rhoder, the daughter of—”

  Sister Hanna bobbed her head. “Ja, ja, I know who she is. Brother Ernst told my Werner the Rhoders would be moving in downstairs.” She smiled at me. “Welcome.”

  “Thank you. I’m pleased to meet you, Sister Hanna.”

  Her lips curved in a broad smile that revealed a dimple in her left cheek. “Danke. And I am pleased to meet you, too.”

  Moving between us, Brother Herman pointed to the kitchen door. “We will talk on the porch so we do not interfere with the other sisters while they work.”

  Once outside, Brother Herman explained our circumstances to Sister Hanna. “Because their furniture has not yet arrived, Sister Jancey is without a place to sleep tonight. The simple solution is for her to spend the night with your family.”

  Sister Hanna appeared comfortable with the idea. “We will be happy to have you as our guest, but you might not get much sleep. Our Madelyn has always wanted a big sister instead of a big brother. She may keep you awake all night with her talking.”

  Before I could answer, Brother Herman shook his head. “Is not a problem. Sister Jancey has worked with children in Kansas City.” He turned toward me. “Will be like Kansas City for you, ja?”

  “A little.” I smiled at Sister Hanna. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy meeting Madelyn.”

  Sister Hanna gave a slight nod and winked. “And our son, Ritt, I think you will enjoy meeting him, too.”

  I wasn’t sure what surprised me more—the comment or her knowing wink.

  Chapter 6

  To my utter amazement, Mother walked the short distance from Brother Herman’s home to the Wieler Küche. Though she leaned heavily upon my father’s arm, it had been months since she’d exhibited such strength. My heart soared as I caught sight of their arrival outside the kitchen house. Perhaps this move would prove to be the medicine that would cure her. If so, I would adapt to the necessary changes in my life. I would gladly give up the comfortable home in Kansas City and forgo a future of teaching at the orphanage. To see my mother restored to health would be worth any sacrifice.

  “I can hardly believe my eyes,” I said, hurrying to her side and taking her arm as they drew near. “I was going to bring supper to you at Brother Herman’s house. Sister Hanna said it was customary to take meals to those who are ill, but I’m so happy to see you are able to walk this distance.”

  I shot a glance in my father’s direction, surprised he’d permitted her to walk.

  “Your mother insisted she was up to the walk, and I thought it would be good for her to try.” He gestured to the group lining up at the other door. “I need to enter with the men, so you’ll need to see to your mother.”

  A shade of rosy pink colored my mother’s cheeks as she took hold of my arm. “It is good to be home again.” She looked up at me. “Tell me what you’ve been doing since we parted.”

  While we waited to enter the kitchen, I told her about Sister Hanna and my arrangements for the night. “I haven’t met the rest of the Hetrig family, but if they’re as welcoming as Sister Hanna, I’ll be fine.”

  “I’m sure they are a wonderful family, but I know this is a sacrifice for you, Jancey. If at any time you decide you want to leave the colonies, your father and I will understand.” She squeezed my arm. “You’ll tell us if you’re unhappy, won’t you?”

  “Yes, Mother, but you should push aside your concerns. The only thing you need to do is continue to gain your strength.” I leaned close to her ear. “And tell me what I’m supposed to do so I don’t look like such an outsider.”

  “Just watch what I do and you’ll be fine. And remember—no conversation during meals.”

  I was thankful for the reminder. Father had mentioned the “no conversation” rule to me on the train, but I’d already forgotten. There were lots of rules, he’d said, and I wondered how many of them I would break before I could commit them all to memory. Mother and I sat side by side on one of the long wooden benches, and though I expected the hard benches to cause her difficulty, she sat through the meal without exhibiting any problems. She ate far less than anyone else but appeared to enjoy the dumpling soup and parsleyed potatoes. When we stood for the after-dinner prayer, Mother clutched my arm.

  I dipped my head close to hers after the prayer. “Are you feeling weak?” I momentarily forgot and asked my question in English.

  “Speak German,” she said, patting my hand. “Just walk slowly and I will do fine.”

  When we arrived outside, Father was standing with Brother Herman, two other men, and a young girl. As we drew near, Brother Herman turned toward us. “Gut evening, Sisters. I want to introduce you to your new neighbors.” He patted a tall, angular man on the shoulder. “This is Brother Werner Hetrig and his son, Brother Ritter Hetrig. And this is young Madelyn.”
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  Brother Herman crooked his finger, and Madelyn stepped forward. “Guten Abend.” The young girl’s smile revealed a charming dimple in one cheek, just like her mother’s. “Mutter says you will share my room tonight.” Her blue eyes sparkled as she pranced from foot to foot.

  I returned her smile. “I hope you won’t mind having company in your room. I’ll do my best not to snore.”

  Madelyn covered her mouth and giggled. “Girls don’t snore, but my brother, Ritt, snores. Even with the doors closed, I can hear him all night long.”

  Her brother chuckled and raked a handful of dark blond hair from his forehead. I couldn’t be certain, but I guessed Ritt to be near my age. Like his father, Ritt was tall and broad-shouldered with natural good looks. He possessed an easy smile, and his hazel eyes sparkled with laughter as he spoke to his sister. “Then maybe we should send you to bed an hour earlier, so you will go to sleep without my snoring to bother you, ja?”

  “Nein!” She shook her head with such vigor, her cap slipped to one side of her head. “I like the sound of snoring.”

  There was an easy camaraderie among the members of the Hetrig family, especially between brother and sister. An undeniable longing settled deep inside as I watched the two of them. What joy I’d missed growing up without a sibling—someone with whom I could share my deep secrets, someone who would be my friend no matter what, someone who would protect me when needed. But my being an only child hadn’t been my parents’ choice.

  After my birth, Mother hadn’t been able to carry another child, a fact I regretted as much as my parents did. When I decided to become a teacher, Mother said it was my lack of siblings that had drawn me to the profession, and perhaps she’d been right. Though the children at the orphanage weren’t like brothers and sisters to me, they filled a void. A slight ache squeezed my heart, and I wondered if they were missing me as much as I missed them.