The Hope Jar

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The Hope Jar Page 6

by Wanda E. Brunstetter


  Michelle must have missed seeing it when she was in the barn the other day, but Sadie had a large wooden box to stretch out in, with plenty of room for the pups to move around in once they became active. The bottom of the box had been lined with newspapers, making for easy disposal. Mary Ruth called it “Sadie’s whelping bed.”

  Michelle stood between Ivan and Willis, watching as Sadie panted, stood up, and then lay down again.

  “It won’t be long now.” Willis’s eyes sparkled. He was no doubt excited, even though this was probably old hat for him.

  Wish I could be that enthused. Michelle watched curiously as the first puppy arrived. Once Sadie removed the pup’s sac, she began pushing again.

  Mary Ruth took over and cleaned the first puppy’s nostrils, then gently blew on its tiny face to stimulate breathing.

  Michelle’s throat constricted when the newborn pup gave a little yelp. No wonder they wanted her to witness this. A mere description would not have been good enough.

  “Have you ever seen anything like this before?” Ivan asked.

  Michelle shook her head. “I’ve seen a cat give birth, but never a dog.”

  “Your mom and I used to play a lot in this barn when we were kids.” Ivan made a sweeping gesture of the area around them with his hand. “Being here with you now takes me back to those days.” His eyes darkened a bit. “We didn’t know how fortunate we were back then, to have loving parents and a wonderful place to grow up.”

  Michelle almost said she wished she could have known Ivan’s sister, but caught herself in time. “Growing up in those days sounds nice. Wish I could have known you and Mom back then.” And I wish I’d had your parents, she secretly added.

  Chapter 6

  When Willis entered the kitchen Friday morning, he found Mary Ruth stirring batter in a large mixing bowl. “Whatcha up to? Are you making pannekuche?”

  “Sorry, no pancakes this morning. I’m mixing batter for a birthday cake. But I suppose I could whip a batch of pannekuche just for you.” She turned and gave his belly a little poke.

  He quirked an eyebrow.

  “Today is our granddaughter’s birthday.” Mary Ruth paused to switch hands stirring. “Remember when she told us soon after she arrived that she was born on June 15th? She will be twenty-four years old.”

  “Oh yes, that’s right.” Willis put his hand lovingly under Mary Ruth’s chin. “Look here a minute. Whatcha got on your kinn?”

  After being married all these years, her husband’s gentle touch still made her heart do a flip-flop, even when he was teasing her. “I must look a mess.” Mary Ruth giggled as he wiped some flour off her cheek and it landed on the front of her apron.

  “Not to me. You’ve never looked more beautiful.” Willis’s gaze remained on her for several seconds. “All that flour on your face and apron shows how hard you’ve been working.” He kissed her cheek on the spot where the flour had been. “So besides the cake, what else are we gonna do to help Sara celebrate her special day?”

  “I invited Ivan and his family over again, but he and Yvonne had already made plans to get together with her folks this evening, so they won’t be coming. Lenore said she’s free though, so I guess it’ll be just the four of us.”

  “That should work out okay then. It’ll give Sara a chance to get better acquainted with her cousin.”

  Mary Ruth nodded. “I was thinking that too. Since the girls are about the same age and both single, they have that much in common. If Sara and Lenore become friends, it’ll give Sara another reason to come here often. And who knows, if our granddaughter likes it here, she may even decide to stay in the area or live at our house permanently. We certainly have the room, and it would be nice to see Sara using our daughter’s bedroom, instead of it looking so empty.” Mary Ruth swallowed. “Maybe sleeping in the same room and in the same bed will give Sara a sense of being closer to her mudder.”

  “Jah, it might, at that.” Willis’s eyes twinkled as he tipped his head and grinned at Mary Ruth. “After all this time, it’s nice to see such a look of pure joy on your face. It’s been a good many years since you’ve been so enthused about something.”

  “A long time, I agree.” She sighed deeply. “When Rhoda ran away, it wounded my soul. And every year that went by without us hearing from her hurt all the more. I thought we had done something that drove her away, and she wanted to forget us. Now that I know our dochder left a note for Sara, telling her about us, it’s given me a sense of peace.” Mary Ruth touched her chest. “The realization that Rhoda cared about us enough to want Sara to get to know us is like a healing balm to my hurting soul.”

  He kissed her cheek. “I understand. Having Sara here has been good for both of us.”

  “Are you two talking about me?” Sara asked, stepping into the kitchen.

  Mary Ruth’s face warmed. “Jah, but in a good way. We were just saying how nice it is to have you here. And I’m also happy we can be with you to help celebrate your special day.” Mary Ruth moved away from the counter and gave Sara a hug. “Happy birthday, Granddaughter.”

  “Yes, happy birthday, Sara,” Willis put in.

  Sara’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink. “Danki.”

  “You’re welcome.” It tickled Mary Ruth to no end, hearing her granddaughter use a Pennsylvania Dutch word.

  “Have you been out to check on the puppies yet this morning?” Sara asked, looking at Willis.

  “Not yet, but I will right after breakfast.”

  “You can go now if you want to.” Mary Ruth gestured to the cake batter. “I want to put this cake in the oven before I start breakfast, so there’s still a little time if you want to go to the barn.”

  “All right then. I’ll head out there now.” Willis looked at Sara. “Would you like to come along?”

  “Sure, unless Mary Ruth … I mean, Grandma, needs my help with breakfast.”

  Mary Ruth shook her head. “You go along with your grandpa to the barn. When you get back, I’ll have the cake in the oven and a skillet of scrambled eggs with ham ready to eat.”

  “Okay, thanks.” As Sara followed Willis out of the room, Mary Ruth heard her say, “If you don’t mind, from now on, I’d like to help by taking care of Sadie and the pups’ bedding. That’s one less thing you would have to do.”

  “Danki, Granddaughter. That’d be just fine.” Willis quickly came back to grab his hat off the hook. “I forgot this.” His face fairly beamed as he glanced at Mary Ruth and winked.

  When Mary Ruth heard the sound of the back door open and then close, she went to the window and watched her husband and granddaughter walk to the barn together. With gratitude, she closed her eyes and said a quick prayer. Thank You, Lord. There is so much happiness in our house again.

  After taking two round cake pans out of the cupboard, she began humming a song they frequently sang at their ice-cream socials. Mary Ruth’s motherly instincts seemed to be kicking in. Having her granddaughter here to fuss over was like having Rhoda home again. Willis was right—she truly was happier and felt ten years younger too.

  Those puppies are sure adorable. Michelle took time to cuddle each one after changing the bedding, freshening up the water, and making sure Sadie’s bowl was filled with food. Taking care of Sadie and her babies didn’t feel like a chore at all. It was something she could look forward to every day. Even if they were only animals, it made Michelle feel like she was needed.

  When she left the barn, Michelle walked down to the mailbox, at Willis’s request. It was another simple chore, and she didn’t mind doing it. In fact, after being in the smelly, stuffy barn for a while, it felt good to breathe in some fresh air. Even the bugs weren’t bad yet, since it was still early in the day.

  Michelle’s stomach growled as the aroma of pancakes wafted from the house. She’d almost forgotten how much she loved homemade pancakes. Sometimes, her foster mother would make them on Saturday mornings, but she hadn’t had any, other than the frozen kind you put in a toaster, since sh
e’d left their home and struck out on her own.

  As Michelle approached the mailbox, she wondered if she would find anything inside. It was still early, and she couldn’t believe the Lapps’ mail would be delivered this soon in the day. But since Willis had asked her to go get it, he must know what he was talking about. It could be that a rural mail carrier had to start early, and Willis and Mary Ruth’s house might be on the first part of the route.

  Michelle opened the box and was not disappointed. A handful of mail had been left inside. Curious, she thumbed through the stack—lots of advertising catalogs and flyers, a few bills, and one letter. She squinted at the name on the return address. It said: “Sara Murray.”

  Her heart pounded. Oh no … It’s the real granddaughter, and she lives in Newark, New Jersey. I wonder what she has to say. Maybe she wrote to tell her grandparents that they missed her at the bus station. Or she could be letting them know that she plans to come here soon—maybe even today.

  Gulping in several deep breaths, Michelle leaned against the mailbox as she deliberated what to do. If she took this letter inside and gave it to Mary Ruth or Willis, her cover would definitely be blown.

  With her free hand, Michelle reached up to rub her forehead. She needed to find out what the letter said. Only then would she know what to do.

  Michelle slipped the rest of the mail back inside the box. Clasping Sara’s letter, she walked down the road a ways, until she came to a clump of trees. Stepping behind them with fingers shaking, she awkwardly tore open the letter to silently read.

  Dear Grandpa and Grandma Lapp,

  I wrote to you a few weeks ago, but since you didn’t respond, I am wondering if you even got the letter. I wanted to let you know that it could be toward the end of summer, or even early fall before I’m able to come there to meet you. I had thought maybe July 5th, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen. This business class I’m taking requires a lot of homework, so it’ll be difficult for me to get away anytime soon. Not only that, but my car is giving me problems, so when I do come, I still may have to take the bus. If I’m not able to drive, I’ll let you know so you can decide if you’re able to pick me up at the bus station in Philadelphia.

  I hope you will write back soon so I know that you received this letter. I am looking forward to meeting you both.

  All the best,

  Sara

  What a stroke of luck. Michelle drew a breath and blew it out slowly. It was a relief to know the Lapps’ granddaughter wouldn’t be coming until at least the end of summer. That meant Michelle could continue posing as Sara and reaping the benefits of staying with Willis and Mary Ruth. All she had to do was dispose of this letter. And from now on, she would volunteer to walk out every day to get the mail. It was the only guarantee that the Lapps would never find a letter from their rightful granddaughter.

  Michelle sat at the breakfast table, barely listening to Willis and Mary Ruth’s conversation. All she could think about was the letter she’d thrown in the burn barrel before bringing the rest of the mail to the house. She’d gone back to the barn, found a box of matches and lit a fire, destroying all evidence of Sara Murray’s letter. Fortunately, Willis had already returned to the house by then and hadn’t seen what she’d done.

  How much longer can I keep up this charade? Michelle clenched her napkin into a tight ball. What if Mary Ruth or Willis should decide to go out and get the mail before I have a chance to get there each morning? And what if another letter shows up from Sara? Boy, have I gotten myself into a mess.

  Mary Ruth tapped Michelle’s arm. “Did you hear what I said, Sara?”

  Michelle jerked her head. “Uh, no. Sorry, I didn’t.”

  “I asked if there’s anything special you’d like me to fix for your birthday supper tonight.”

  Unable to look at Mary Ruth’s face, Michelle kept her gaze fixed on her plate. Her appetite for pancakes had diminished. Although they looked and smelled delicious, she could barely get the first one down. “Don’t go to any trouble on my account,” she mumbled.

  “It’s no trouble. There’s nothing more I’d rather be doing.” Mary Ruth nudged Michelle’s arm, and when she looked up, she was rewarded with a pleasant smile. “So, what’s your favorite supper meal?”

  Michelle’s guilt nearly made her confess her deception, seeing how genuine Mary Ruth was toward her. But she felt like a little girl—giddy that someone actually cared. “You might think this is strange, but I really like spaghetti and meatballs.”

  “That’s not strange at all,” Willis spoke up. “I like spaghetti and meatballs too.”

  Michelle looked at Willis, where he sat at the head of the table. “You do?” I bet he only said that for my benefit.

  Grinning, he bobbed his head.

  Mary Ruth clapped her hands. “All right then, it’s settled. Tonight, in honor of Sara’s twenty-fourth birthday, I will fix her favorite supper.”

  Michelle finished her glass of milk and dipped the last bite of pancake in the leftover syrup on her plate. She wished the Lapps weren’t being so nice to her. It made it all the more difficult to lie to them. But if she told the truth, she’d have to leave. Besides, to coin a phrase, what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. The truth would hurt them—and her too. So for now at least, she’d keep silent.

  As Ezekiel King approached his horse and buggy, his mother called out to him. “Don’t forget the jar of hunnich.” She stood on the back porch, holding a tall jar of honey.

  Ezekiel walked across the yard, meeting her halfway. “Ich bin allfatt am eppes vergesse.”

  “You’re not always forgetting something; only when your mind is somewhere else.” Lifting her chin to look up at him, Mom handed him the jar. “So what were you thinking about this time, Son?”

  He smacked his forehead. “Beats me. Guess I had my head in the clouds.” Ezekiel wasn’t about to tell his mother he’d been thinking about buying a car or a truck. Unlike some Amish parents in their area, his folks did not look the other way or knowingly allow their children to take part in questionable things, like some English young people did. Ezekiel thought his mom and dad were too strict. He was twenty-three years old and ought to have the right to do as he pleased. Dad was always on him about joining the church, but Ezekiel hadn’t made up his mind about that yet. If he did buy a car, he’d have to keep it hidden, somewhere other than here on his folk’s property. Dad would never stand for any son of his owning a motorized vehicle, much less parking it here, where others could see.

  Mom poked Ezekiel’s arm. “Are you spacing off again?”

  He blinked a couple of times. “Sorry. I was thinkin’, is all.”

  Mom’s brown eyes darkened. “You can do your thinking while you’re heading over to the Lapps’ to deliver the honey they ordered.”

  “Don’t see why they want more honey. It wasn’t long ago that I delivered a jar to their place.”

  “Maybe they used it up already. Anyway, it shouldn’t matter the reason. They asked, and you have plenty of honey, so you’d best be on your way.”

  “Jah, okay, but I’m gonna run a short errand when I leave there, so I’ll probably be gone a few hours.”

  She gave a nod. “That’s fine. Things are kind of slow at the greenhouse today, so I’m sure your daed and I can manage without you for a while this afternoon.”

  “Good to know.” Ezekiel glanced toward the back of their property, where the greenhouse was built. That was another thing frustrating him. He didn’t enjoy working there so much. However, Dad insisted that Ezekiel, being the oldest son, should take over the business someday, whether he wanted it or not.

  Ezekiel was glad he’d become a part-time beekeeper, because it gave him something else to do besides fool with plants and flowers all day. Not that he had anything against the greenhouse business—it just wasn’t what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. Truthfully, Ezekiel wasn’t sure what he wanted, but right now it didn’t include joining the Amish church. What
he wanted more than anything was to know more about the English world and enjoy some of the things his parents had forbidden him to do.

  He said goodbye to Mom and put the jar of honey in a cardboard box inside his buggy. Then he released his horse, Big Red, from the hitching rail, hopped into the buggy, and headed down the driveway. There was no doubt in his mind. As soon as he left Willis and Mary Ruth’s place, he was going to look at a used truck one of his friends had for sale. And if Ezekiel thought it was the right one for him, he might end up buying it either today or sometime soon.

  Chapter 7

  Would ya mind helping me feed the hogs this morning?” Willis asked Michelle when they finished breakfast.

  Mary Ruth squinted at him. “For goodness’ sakes, Husband, today is Sara’s birthday. You should not have asked her to do a garschdich chore like that.”

  “Feeding the hogs isn’t a nasty chore,” he responded. “It’s a eefach task. You just take the food out and dump it over the fence.”

  “If it’s so simple, then why don’t you do it yourself?”

  “Because I have some other chores to do, and—”

  “It’s okay,” Michelle interjected. “My birthday’s no big deal, and as long as I don’t have to get in the pen with the hogs, I don’t mind feeding ’em.”

  Willis grinned. “See, I figured as much. This little gal is a chip off the ole block.”

  Mary Ruth rolled her eyes, and Michelle merely nodded. She’d done plenty of unpleasant chores over the years—at her birth parents’ request and again for her foster parents. Then when she’d struck out on her own, more chores waited at the various jobs she’d done, not to mention trying to keep on top of things at the apartments she’d lived in.

  Michelle felt safe here at the Lapps’ and didn’t mind whatever chores they asked her to do. It was kind of like payment for her room and board.

 

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