The Hope Jar

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  Michelle snuggled beneath the cool linens and closed her eyes. Today had been a good one, and she’d enjoyed Ezekiel’s company as much as she had Brad’s the night before. It made no sense that she could get along well with two men from opposite backgrounds, but she felt equally comfortable with both of them. Michelle had enjoyed the pleasant conversation she’d shared with Brad during the Fourth of July festival, but she’d also liked being with Ezekiel today. He’d been patient and kind as he taught her how to hitch and unhitch Big Red. And Ezekiel made it seem easy when he took Michelle through the steps of driving the horse and talked about safety measures.

  She’d been nervous at first, but by the time they returned to the house, Michelle felt more confident. Of course, having Ezekiel by her side, ready to take charge if needed, had bolstered her confidence. Though she still couldn’t believe that he wanted her to teach him how to drive a car. While Michelle didn’t have her own vehicle, she’d gotten her driver’s license when she was seventeen years old and had driven her foster parents’ car a good many times—running errands and picking up the younger kids in their family from school activities. She had renewed her license and driven Jerry’s car a few times when he was too drunk to drive himself home. She hoped if and when Ezekiel asked her to teach him that she’d feel up to the task.

  She also appreciated Ezekiel taking the time to answer some of her questions about Amish life. She had lots more of course, but those could wait for another time.

  It pleased Michelle that Brad and Ezekiel were polite and respectful toward her. Nothing like Jerry had been during the time they’d been a couple. Michelle couldn’t believe she had put up with his verbal abuse. When it became physical abuse, she’d had the good sense to get away from him.

  Her throat constricted, and she swallowed hard. Guess maybe at first, I thought I deserved no better. I wonder what it would be like to have a boyfriend like Ezekiel or Brad, who I’m sure would treat me like I was special—not someone to control, push around, or yell at.

  Michelle rolled onto her side. There was no point thinking about this. She couldn’t have a relationship with Brad or Ezekiel, even if she wanted one. They didn’t know the real her, and if either man learned the truth about her false identity, she felt certain they would never speak to her again.

  “I should leave now, before someone gets hurts,” Michelle murmured into her pillow. “If I had a lick of sense, I’d pack my bags and head out of here early tomorrow morning, before Mary Ruth and Willis are out of bed.”

  Chapter 19

  Michelle couldn’t believe how quickly the time had gone since she’d first arrived at the Lapps’. But it was the middle of July, and she’d been here over a month already. She wished she could make time stand still so she would never have to leave this special place.

  When Michelle entered the barn in search of her gardening gloves, she paused to look up at the antique jars on the shelf overhead. It would only take a few minutes to get the jar full of prayers down and read one or two. She’d been so busy helping Mary Ruth keep up with all the garden produce lately that she hadn’t taken the time to get the jar down for several days.

  Think I’ll take a few minutes to do that now. Maybe something written on one of those pieces of paper will give me a clue as to who wrote the messages.

  Michelle placed her garden gloves and shovel on Willis’s workbench and dragged the ladder over to the shelf where the jars sat. Since Willis was at a doctor’s appointment and Mary Ruth had accompanied him, Michelle had plenty of time to look at the notes without interruption. The produce she planned to pick in the garden could wait for a while longer.

  Once she had the prayer jar down, she took a seat on the now-familiar bale of straw and leaned against the wooden post behind it. Since Michelle had pushed the notes she’d previously read to the bottom of the jar, she pulled one out near the top and read it out loud.

  “ ‘Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation: the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak’ Matthew 26:41.”

  Michelle shifted on the straw poking into her backside. The person who wrote this must have been faced with some kind of temptation. Did they give in to it or hold fast?

  Michelle couldn’t count all the times she’d been tempted—to steal, to cheat, to get even, to lie. And at some point or another, she had succumbed to each one. There was no doubt about it—her flesh was weak.

  She folded the paper in half and pushed it to the bottom of the jar. One more. I’ll just read one more note and then head out to the garden. It wouldn’t be good if I didn’t get something done while Willis and Mary Ruth are gone.

  On the next paper Michelle withdrew, a prayer had been written. “Dear Lord, You forgive my sins and give me hope.”

  She contemplated it a few minutes before putting the folded paper back in the jar. Holding the antique container between her knees, Michelle folded her hands beneath her chin in a prayer-like gesture and looked up. “God, if You’re listening, is there any hope for me?”

  Except for the soft nicker of Mary Ruth’s buggy horse, the barn was silent.

  Well, what did I expect? Did I really think God would open the windows of heaven and shout something down at me? I’m just a foolish young woman whose life isn’t going anywhere. Why would He care about someone like me?

  Michelle’s cheeks burned hot, and it wasn’t from the outside heat creeping in. I should have followed through with my plan to leave this place soon after I got here. The longer I stay, the harder it gets to go.

  Michelle leaned her head against the wooden post and covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a sob. If I tell Mary Ruth and Willis the truth, they’ll be upset, and I’ll have to go knowing how much I hurt them. But how can I tell the truth without wounding the ones I’ve come to care about?

  The rumble of a vehicle approaching drew Michelle’s thoughts aside. She stood and took a peek out the barn door. The Lapps were back, and she needed to get a grip on herself and decide what to do. Do I tell them the truth and pack my bag, or keep pretending for a while longer?

  After Mary Ruth climbed out of Brad’s van, she turned to Willis and said, “If you’ll take care of paying our driver, I’ll go see how Sara is doing in the garden.”

  Willis gave a nod. “That’s fine, but Brad plans to do some work for me today, so I probably won’t pay him till he’s done for the day.”

  “That’s fine.” Mary Ruth patted her husband’s arm. It was good he no longer had to wear the sling, but it might be another week or so before he could proclaim that his arm was completely healed. Even though Willis was able to do several chores by himself now, he still needed help with some things on the farm. Since Sara kept busy helping Mary Ruth so much of the time, she appreciated having Brad available to help Willis like he had. Their son Ivan helped on occasions too, but between all the responsibilities he had at his general store and his chores at home, he didn’t come by to help as often as Mary Ruth would like.

  She stood silently a few seconds, watching as Willis spoke to Brad. Turning away, she headed across the yard.

  As Mary Ruth approached the garden, she saw Sara down on her knees, pulling weeds. The young woman looked up and smiled. “How’d Grandpa’s appointment go?”

  “It went well. He doesn’t have to wear the sling anymore, but Dr. Kent cautioned him not to overuse it.” Mary Ruth glanced over her shoulder, looking toward the van parked in their driveway. “So Brad will be here a few hours this afternoon to help with some of the heavier chores.”

  “That’s good, and I’m glad Grandpa’s arm is better.”

  “We are too.” Mary Ruth smiled. “I’m going in the house now to change into my work dress. I’ll be back soon to help you finish the weeding.”

  “Okay. No hurry though.”

  Michelle swatted at several gnats buzzing her head. Oh great. Not this again. They’d had some rain early that morning, and it seemed the pesky bugs were bent on revenge. Mary Ruth had said this was typical after
a rain. Guess I shoulda worn that old canvas hat, but I stupidly misplaced it. She sighed. Oh well, this chore will be over soon enough, and then I’ll be out of the bugs’ path.

  “The gnats are nasty today aren’t they, Sara?” Mary Ruth knelt beside Michelle.

  “That’s for sure. They’ve been buzzing my ears and trying to get in my eyes and up my nose.” Michelle drew in a breath and sucked in a bug. “Eww …” She coughed and almost choked.

  Mary Ruth wrinkled her nose. “I’ve had that happen to me before, and it’s not fun to know you’ve swallowed a bug.”

  “I think one of ’em may have bit me.” Michelle rubbed her forehead. “How come they don’t seem to be bothering you?”

  “Well, for one thing, I don’t wear any hairspray or perfume. Some bugs are attracted to certain smells.”

  Michelle shifted her position. So much for thoughts about telling Mary Ruth the truth. The minute I saw her get out of Brad’s van my resolve went out the barn door. Truth was, even though she’d been here less than two months, Michelle had begun to think of Mary Ruth and Willis as her adoptive grandparents. She wished she could stay with them permanently.

  “Sara, did you hear what I said?”

  Michelle jerked her head. “Uh, sorry, I was deep in thought. Was it something about hairspray?”

  Mary Ruth bobbed her head. “Some bugs are attracted to certain smells.”

  “I’ll try to remember that the next time I do any work in the yard.”

  “The other thing you might do is wear a scarf, or what about that old canvas hat you said you’d found in your mother’s closet? You still have it, don’t you?”

  “No, I haven’t seen it for a while. Would it be okay if I wear one of Grandpa’s old straw hats? I think there’s one hanging on a peg in the barn.”

  Mary Ruth’s eyes widened a bit. “Well, I guess it would be all right, but wouldn’t you rather wear one of my scarves?”

  Michelle shook her head. “The straw hat might work better, and it will serve a dual purpose by helping to keep the sun out of my eyes.”

  “Very well. Feel free to help yourself.”

  “Danki, I will.” Michelle tipped her head to one side. “Did I say that right?”

  “Yes, you certainly did.” Mary Ruth winked. “I bet if you stay here long enough, you’ll pick up a lot more of our Pennsylvania Dutch words.”

  Michelle clambered to her feet and headed to the barn. The mere thought of leaving here put a lump in her throat.

  “I forgot to check for eggs this morning,” Mary Ruth said when they finished weeding. “Would you mind doing that, Sara, while I start supper?”

  “Sure, I’d be happy to do it.” Michelle rose and brushed a clump of dirt off her jeans.

  “Oh, and if you see Brad, please tell him he’s invited to stay and eat with us.”

  “All right, I will.” Michelle returned Willis’s old hat to the barn, then hurried off to the chicken coop. As she opened the door of the small wooden structure, the hinge on the door gave an irritating creak.

  When Michelle stepped inside, her nose twitched from the smell of dusty feed, fragments of straw, and chicken feces. This was not a place she cared to linger in very long. She hoped she wouldn’t end up with a sneezing fit.

  Michelle located the egg-collecting basket on a wooden shelf inside the door. She also discovered the chickens in an uproar—squawking, kicking up pieces of straw that had been spread on the floor, and running about as though they’d been traumatized by something.

  “Simmer down. I’m not here to hurt you.” Michelle shooed two overzealous hens away. If she hadn’t put Willis’s straw hat back in the barn when she left the garden, she would have used it to flap at the chickens right now. “Come on, ladies. I just came out here to get a few eggs. And if you don’t behave, you may end up going without supper this evening.”

  Feeding the chickens and gathering eggs was not one of Michelle’s favorite things to do. But it was better than throwing food into the hog trough. Those fat pigs could make such a racket, snorting and trying to push each other away, like their last meal had been served and they might miss out. They were all greedy. How was it any wonder those hogs were so fat?

  Michelle reached into the first nest she came to, and pulled out two nice-sized, perfectly shaped brown eggs. Placing them carefully into the basket, she moved on. Meanwhile, the hens kept making a racket, the pitch of their screeching rising higher and higher. It was unnerving. Michelle was tempted to set the basket down and cover both ears.

  When Michelle approached the next nest, she froze. Not far from where she stood lay a huge black snake staring back at her, with its tongue darting in and out. The reptile looked strange with a big bulge in its body. It was also creepy.

  With her breath caught in her throat, she felt paralyzed, unable to move. The chickens’ continued ruckus only added to Michelle’s crippling fear. She took short steps and slowly backed away, never taking her eyes off the shiny, scaled serpent, and hoping she wouldn’t knock any of the water feeders over. Michelle wanted to be sure the snake stayed where it was, and that it wouldn’t follow her. Even after a hasty exit out the squeaky door, once she was outside the coop, she kept looking back, hoping the snake would remain where it was until she got help.

  Except for one time at the zoo, Michelle had never seen a snake up close. And the previous time, there had been a wall of glass between her and the reptile.

  Beads of sweat erupted on her forehead as she continued her retreat, whimpering and needing to put a safe distance between herself and the coop where the snake had taken up residence.

  Oomph! She backed into Brad.

  He took hold of Michelle’s shoulders and turned her around. “What’s wrong, Sara? Your face is just as white as snow.”

  “There’s a snake in there.” She pointed toward the coop.

  Brad gave her arm a light pat. “Don’t worry; it’s not unusual to find a snake in a chicken coop. It’s probably just a common black rat snake. I’ll take care of it for you.”

  By “take care of it,” Michelle assumed Brad meant he would kill the snake. But since he had no weapon, she didn’t see how he could manage it. Surely he wasn’t foolish enough to try and kill the snake with his bare hands. Well, she wasn’t going in with him to find out.

  Michelle waited outside the coop door while Brad went inside. The thought of what he might encounter sent shivers up her spine.

  She cringed when a short time later Brad came out with the ugly black snake wrapped around his arm.

  “Look here.” He pointed to the bulge inside the snake. “This reptile swallowed an egg. See how big it is right behind its head?”

  “Eww …” Michelle could barely look at the snake.

  Brad started walking toward the adjacent field.

  “Wait! Aren’t you gonna kill that horrible thing?”

  He stopped walking and turned to look at her. “Nope. Snakes like this are good at keeping the mice population down around farms.”

  Michelle glanced at the now-quiet chicken coop, wondering if she could ever muster up the nerve to go in there again. As much as she enjoyed being with the Lapps, maybe she wasn’t cut out for country life.

  Chapter 20

  Do you think Sara’s been acting strange lately?” Mary Ruth asked Willis as they got ready for bed one evening in late July.

  He took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “In what way?”

  “Well, some days she seems happy and content, and other days her mood is so sullen.” Mary Ruth placed her head covering on the dresser and picked up her hairbrush. “There are times when we’re talking and she doesn’t seem to even hear what I’m saying. And when Sara does respond, she won’t always make eye contact with me.” She moved over to the bed and sat down. “I’m concerned about her, Willis. Yesterday I offered to give her all the clothes Rhoda left behind when she ran away from home, but Sara said she would prefer that I keep them. Don’t you think that’s stran
ge?”

  “Maybe she’s had enough of us and wants to go back to her own life. We can’t force our granddaughter to stay here, you know.” Willis leaned over and fluffed up the pillows on their bed. “And as far as her not wanting Rhoda’s clothes—what would she do with them, Mary Ruth? Sara’s not Amish, so she wouldn’t be likely to wear them.”

  “True. And I would never try to keep her from leaving when she decides to return to her home. As you know, we’ve both told her that while we would like her to stay with us permanently, she’s free to go whenever she likes.” Mary Ruth heaved a sigh. “I just want our precious Sara to be happy—even if it means not staying here with us.”

  Willis took a seat beside Mary Ruth, placing his hand gently against her back. “I heard her talking about us to Ezekiel the other day when he came by to see if we were running low on honey.”

  Mary Ruth’s ears perked up. “What did she say?”

  “Said she dreaded the day she’d have to leave, and that she enjoyed being here very much.” He gave Mary Ruth’s back a few comforting pats. “So you see, there’s nothing to worry about. If Sara truly likes it here, maybe when she does return to her home, she’ll pack up all her things and come back to stay. Would ya like that, Mary Ruth?”

  “Of course I would. And I’m sure you would too. Having Rhoda’s daughter living here permanently would give me nothing but pleasure.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Even though it’s wrong to selfishly ask God for things, I’m praying that’s exactly what will happen.”

  “I’m going out to get the mail now,” Michelle announced after breakfast the following morning. She still couldn’t believe how early the mail came on this rural road. Back in Philadelphia, she sometimes wouldn’t get her mail until close to supper time. Of course, it was mostly junk mail, which was why she hadn’t even bothered to put in a notice with the post office when she left Philadelphia in a hurry. By not forwarding her mail, there was no way Jerry could contact her either. For sure, he was the last person she wanted to see or hear from again.