Somewhere to Belong

by Judith Miller

  “And I’m eager to see him. But I think it would be best if I wait until we have enough time to talk at length. Will we be eating at home or at the Küche?”

  “I asked Sister Thekla to prepare a basket for us, but if you want to go over to the Küche and visit with the other women until suppertime, I won’t object.” She gestured toward the hand-carved cabinet where she kept the dishes that had belonged to my Oma. “I’ll arrange the table, and when the basket is ready, you can bring our supper.”

  We had finished eating when my brother leaned forward in his chair and folded his hands together on the table. “There is something I need to tell both of you.”

  His tone was serious, and my Mutter’s smile waned. “You are sick?” I could hear the concern in her voice.

  “No, Mutter. This is about Pieter’s death.” Rather than looking at Wilhelm, my parents glanced at each other.

  Worry twitched around my father’s lips. “Pieter’s death? Why do we need to talk of sadness from long ago?”

  Wilhelm clenched his hands even tighter. “Because I’ve been living with a lie since the day he died, and I can’t go on any longer. Johanna has convinced me that living with secrets has separated our family. I don’t want that anymore.”

  My father was obviously bewildered, but he nodded his agreement. “Ja, then have your say, Wilhelm. Tell us what secret you have been keeping.”

  With his gazed fixed upon the table, the story slowly unfolded. Then he looked up at our father. “I lied to you. I stopped to visit with my friends before I went to the river. When I got there, Pieter had already fallen through the ice. If I had gone when you told me, Pieter would still be alive. I lived in Amana as long as I could, but the guilt was too much, so I had to leave. I need your forgiveness.”

  My father gasped for air. “Ach! This can’t be true.” There was disbelief in his voice. “That is why you left us?” He shook his head and stared at my mother. “You should have told us, Wilhelm. All these years you never knew the truth.”

  “It is you who didn’t know the truth,” Wilhelm said. “Didn’t you hear what I told you?”

  “Ja, but if you had gone and told Pieter, it would have changed nothing. At the funeral Brother Samuel told me he had seen Pieter skating and warned him to get off of the ice.”

  Mother dropped to her knees in front of Wilhelm and clasped his hands. “Pieter knew the danger, but he ignored Brother Samuel’s warning. It wasn’t your fault, Wilhelm.” A stream of tears flowed down her cheeks. She kissed his clenched fists. “All these years you could have been here with us—if only you’d told us.” She rocked back on her heels and looked up at him. “There is nothing to forgive, Wilhelm. You are our son, and we love you.”

  My thoughts swirled as I digested what my parents had told Wilhelm. Misunderstandings, secrets, words left unsaid—I’d been guilty, as well. I’d run off to Chicago instead of talking to Carl. I’d made incorrect assumptions and seized them as truth. What if Carl hadn’t written to me? Just like Wilhelm’s, my life could have been altered forever.

  “And I owe my own apology,” my mother said, “to you and to Larissa. I wish she were here to receive it in person, but I will write a letter that you can take to her. I treated her with unkindness. She is a good woman, and I can see that she loves you. I placed blame on her because I didn’t want to believe you would choose to stay away from your family.”

  “I know, Mutter. She understands.”

  My mother shook her head. “Still, she needs my apology.”

  My father leaned forward on his chair. “And you worried that Wilhelm and Larissa would convince Johanna to live in Chicago, too,” he added.

  “Ja, but so did you.”

  “So you will make your apology letter for both of us, and I will sign my name, as well.” He slapped his palm on the table. “It is settled.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Berta Schumacher

  Once the train had pulled away from the Chicago station, my father leaned back in his seat. I thought he was going to take a nap. Instead, he quietly said, “We’ve discussed everything that occurred while I was gone, but there’s one thing you haven’t mentioned, Berta. I asked about this before I left for Chicago, but I feel I must ask again.”

  I snapped to attention. “And what is that, Father?”

  “It’s about the contents of the small leather bag that was in my dresser drawer. It contained some jewels, gold coins, and nuggets. The contents were removed and replaced with pebbles and stones. Can you tell me anything about this?” He reached forward and lifted my chin and looked into my eyes.

  “Yes. I’m sorry, Father. I took them. When you asked me before, I lied because I was afraid you were going to leave us. I thought if I had your valuables, you’d have to stay in Amana.” I opened my reticule and removed the knotted handkerchief that contained most of the valuables. “I used one of the coins for my train ticket and to buy Johanna a book of poetry and to pay for some postage at the general store. Otherwise, it’s all here.” I didn’t immediately hand it to him. “Were you planning to use this to go and make a new life with Caroline?”

  “To be perfectly honest, Berta, I’m not certain. When we moved to Amana, I had promised Caroline I would settle you and your mother in Amana and then return to Chicago. I had also promised your mother I would remain in Amana for two years, and if we weren’t happy then, we would leave and return to Chicago. Either way, I would need finances in order to begin life anew. The valuables in that pouch were my inheritance from your grandmother. I turned over all the rest of our assets to the elders when we were given permission to move to Amana.”

  “So you had considered leaving us?”

  He bowed his head. “I had. But after we were settled and I was away from Chicago, I knew that I couldn’t leave you or your mother. I corresponded with Caroline for a short time. She continued to write and encouraged me to leave Amana. I won’t deny that I was tempted.”

  “Did you see her when you arrived in Chicago?”

  “No, Berta. I didn’t see her.”

  “Did you go to her house?” He hesitated for a moment too long, and I knew. “You did, didn’t you!”

  “Yes. But not to reunite with her. I needed to return something to her, a gift she’d given to me—a watch that had belonged to her father.” He glanced out the train window and then looked back at me. “I left the watch with the housekeeper. She told me Caroline had sailed for Europe two days before my arrival.”

  “Were you surprised she was gone?”

  “As a matter of fact, I was. In her earlier letters, she’d indicated she was going to her summer home later in the season. There’d been no mention of Europe.” He unclasped his hands and rested his palms on his pant legs.

  Something had caused Caroline’s early departure. I wondered if my letter had been the reason, but I didn’t suppose I’d ever know. And probably it was just as well.

  “Now what will happen? Between you and Mother?”

  My father brushed a lock of hair from my forehead. “You must remember that it takes time to heal, Berta. Your mother will not soon forget the pain I have caused her. Trust isn’t easily restored when you’ve wronged someone. Although you’re still young, you need to remember what I’m telling you so that you will more carefully weigh the choices you make in the future.”

  My father’s words weren’t as necessary as he probably thought. Ever since the incident in the kitchen when Lydia was injured, I’d been dwelling on my past behavior and the consequences others had suffered because of me. More than once the shame had been almost too much to bear. I’d been trying to remember that no sin was too great for God’s forgiveness—at least that’s what Johanna had told me. She’d even shown me the verses in the Bible. But I knew I must do more in order to find complete peace in my heart.

  “Iowa City! Iowa City!” The conductor’s shout awakened me, and I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

  Once we got off the train, Father gathered our baggage. While
I stood watch over his trunk and my meager belongings, he walked to the livery and rented a horse and carriage. He helped me inside and then took the reins.

  We’d gone only a short distance when I decided to ask his opinion regarding my future. “Do you think I should attend the boarding school?”

  “I think you should view the school with an open mind before you make your choice. Afterward, if you’re still having difficulty deciding what to do, we’ll talk.”

  “Then you think I should go to the school.”

  My father chuckled. “That’s not what I said, Berta. If you choose based upon what I want, you won’t be committed to the decision. I want you to pick the place where you believe you will be happy and flourish.”

  Now that I’d been granted a say in the matter, making choices didn’t seem such a grand idea. There would be no one else to blame for my unhappy lot in life. And I was certain I’d flourish in either place—whatever that was supposed to mean. “I do think Chicago is the best choice for all of us, but I don’t suppose that’s an option.”

  “Not at the moment. I gave your mother my word that I would remain in Amana for at least two full years. Like you, I wasn’t completely committed to the decision when we arrived, but during my time in Chicago I met a man who helped me understand that I need to go beyond honoring my word; I need to do it with an open heart and an open mind. That’s what you must do, as well, Berta.”

  We continued down the streets of Iowa City. Though it couldn’t compare to Chicago, it seemed a nice enough town, with sturdy brick-and-frame storefronts and a stone capitol building that likely was considered the crowning glory of the town. My father mentioned that the capital was moved to Des Moines some twenty years ago. The carriage slowed as we approached a sprawling two-story brick-and-stone edifice outside the confines of the town.

  I stared at the mansion. “This seems somewhat out of place.”

  My father agreed. “Mrs. Harwell tells me that it was constructed by a wealthy Easterner when he moved to the area, but after his wife died, he couldn’t bear to live in the house any longer. He returned to his former home, and the place sat vacant for a number of years. Finally he decided it should be sold.”

  After tying the reins, Father assisted me down from the carriage. “Let’s go in and see if Mrs. Harwell is here. If not, we may have to take a room at the hotel.”

  I wasn’t certain which I would prefer—an immediate tour of the school or a delay of the process. However, I didn’t have to worry for long. A bell jangled when we entered the front door. Soon Mrs. Harwell appeared in the foyer, and after a brief meeting our tour began. While we proceeded through classrooms and living quarters, Mrs. Harwell explained the variety of opportunities afforded her students.

  “You share your room with one other young lady, and we do our best to see that your personalities are compatible. Sharing a room may prove difficult for a short time, but acquiring the ability to live in harmony is a useful skill—and our rooms are large.” She opened the door to one of the unoccupied rooms as if to prove her point. The sun-filled room was cheery and more than adequate for two girls. “We have a large library and study room downstairs, and our grounds provide a lovely respite for those times when the girls want some solitude.”

  The place itself appealed, but I wasn’t convinced it would hold my interest for long. “I’ve already taken many of the classes you offer, Mrs. Harwell. I’m not certain the school teaches much that would be new for me. My father will confirm that I bore easily.”

  Her laughter echoed down the long hallway. “Then this is indeed the perfect place for you, Berta. Because my husband is an instructor at the university, we have enlisted the aid of several teachers from the college. They come to our school and instruct young ladies like you who are prepared for more advanced classwork. I believe you would find the classes a challenge.”

  “Your students live here—even in the summer?”

  She nodded. “Some of them do, especially if their parents are traveling or live in Europe. Others go on holiday with their parents for the summer months. We have a schedule that permits whatever is needed by the girl and her family. It is a choice you and your parents will make if you decide to come here.”

  We walked to the rear veranda, and Mrs. Harwell waved to several girls sitting beneath a leafy elm tree. “Let me introduce you to some of the girls. You can visit with them for a while, and I’ll go over paper work with your father.”

  “But I haven’t—”

  She patted my shoulder. “I know you haven’t made up your mind, but if you decide to attend, I’ll have already answered your father’s questions.” She glanced at my father. “I’ll be right back. You can wait here on the veranda.”

  After the introductions were made, Mrs. Harwell left me on my own. I was wary of the welcoming friendliness of the girls. At first I was convinced they’d been threatened with punishment if they didn’t make potential students feel wanted, but as we continued to visit, I changed my opinion.

  “Whether you stay all year or for only a portion of the year, I think you will be happy here, Berta,” one of the girls said. “I go home to be with my family during the Christmas holidays and for a few weeks during the summer, but I much prefer being here. And some of the girls who stay here through the Christmas holiday can tell you that Mrs. Harwell makes it quite special.”

  The girls had few complaints—mostly they weren’t particularly fond of the meals. “We had a wonderful cook, but she left us to move west with her husband. The new cook has been less than stellar, but Mrs. Harwell is seeking a replacement. She does listen to our complaints and makes every attempt to create an enjoyable life for us.”

  “Her husband is quite nice, as well. Somewhat older, but unlike my parents, they seem devoted to each other,” another said.

  When they had answered all the questions I could think of, I excused myself. “I think I should join my father.”

  “It was nice to meet you, Berta. I hope you’ll return and become one of us,” still another said.

  As I made my way across the grassy expanse, I turned to wave at the girls. Could I be happy here? Would it be better than living in Amana? I wasn’t certain.

  Mrs. Harwell greeted me as I returned to the house. “What do you think, Berta?”

  “The girls are very nice, and I don’t think any other school in the area offers as many classes or such lovely rooms, but I’m still unsure that I want to live away from my parents. Must I decide today?”

  “No, of course not. I’m sure your father agrees that this isn’t a decision you should enter into until you feel comfortable with your choice, isn’t that correct, Dr. Schumacher?”

  “Indeed.” My father lightly squeezed my shoulder. “We can talk on the way home. After we return to Amana and visit with your mother, there will be plenty of time to decide.”

  “And if you don’t want to enroll until September, that’s fine, as well,” Mrs. Harwell said. “I’ve told your father that we currently have two openings. I’m continuing to advertise to fill those vacancies, but we’ll trust that if you decide to return, an opening will be available.” A train whistle sounded in the distance and Mrs. Harwell looked at the grandfather clock that stood guard in the foyer. “If you hurry, you can get to the station before the train departs for Amana.”

  We said hasty good-byes, and although Father did his best to prod the horse to a trot, the animal seemed determined to keep his pace at a walk. When we arrived at the train station, Father removed our baggage. “You go inside and purchase our tickets while I return the buggy to the livery.”

  The train hissed and belched as I anxiously paced back and forth on the platform. I heaved a sigh of relief when I spotted Father rushing toward me. I waved him forward. “Our bags have already been loaded. I was afraid you wouldn’t get here on time.”

  “I’m sorry, but it took longer at the livery than I anticipated,” he said as we hurried aboard the train and dropped into our seats. He withdrew a
handkerchief and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. “I haven’t run a footrace in quite some time. That one about did me in.” He grinned and tucked the handkerchief back into his pocket.

  The train ride to Homestead wouldn’t take long, but we’d have a carriage ride to Amana afterward. There would be more than sufficient time to consider my options.

  We arrived in Main Amana well after prayer services, and Mother was surprised to see us home. The three of us talked at length, and though I saw a glimmer of warmth in my mother’s eyes, I knew it would take time before trust would return.

  When there was a lull in our conversation, I finally mustered my courage. “How is Lydia? Has the broken bone mended? What about the burns?”

  “She is doing quite well. It will take time before she has completely healed, and she may bear some scars, but most of the broth splashed onto the floor. For that we are thankful. We can’t be sure about the broken arm. It seems the bones splintered and didn’t set in a proper fashion. The doctor says she may never regain full use of the arm.”

  My heart plummeted. “I will go visit her tomorrow. Is she able to work in the Küche?”

  My mother nodded. “She has been there the past two days.”

  “I want to ask the elders for permission to speak at a meeting so that I can apologize and ask forgiveness for my behavior.”

  My mother clasped her hand across her heart. “That would be the right thing to do, Berta. No matter what you decide about your future, I think your apology would be well received.”

  Father scooted forward on his chair. “I’ll go with you. We can ask Brother Frank if the elders will meet with you tomorrow after evening prayer service. Then you can speak before the church on Sunday.”

  Tomorrow was Saturday. I wouldn’t have much time to change my mind. I shivered at the thought of everyone seeing me—knowing what they must think. I lowered my head and stared at the floor.