The Hope Jar

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  She glanced across the room and found Ezekiel staring in her direction. At least she thought he was looking at her. He could have been watching a fly on the wall opposite him, for all she knew. One thing was certain: Michelle was not the only person in the room ignoring the sermon being preached.

  Of course, I have a good reason, she told herself. I don’t understand German.

  Michelle had made up her mind that when the time came for her to go, she wouldn’t look back or focus on all she’d lost. But it would be a challenge. Living here all these months and getting to know the Lapps had made her feel as if she had a real family. For the first time in Michelle’s life it seemed as if she could be truly happy.

  She bit her lip to keep from crying. But I guess happiness for me is not in the cards. I’ll always be a loser, longing for something just out of my reach.

  Ezekiel glanced at Sara, who was fanning herself with the back of her hand. He couldn’t blame her for that. The heat inside Roman Beiler’s barn, where church was being held this morning, was stifling. Ezekiel would be glad when summer came to an end and the cooler temperatures of fall took over. Only three more weeks to go, and it would truly be autumn.

  He swiped at the sweat running down the back of his neck and onto his shirt. Sure hope the weather realizes it too and that autumn is not just a word on the calendar.

  Ezekiel had been so busy helping his parents in the greenhouse lately and delivering jars of honey to his customers, it was hard to believe summer was waning—especially in the face of this relentless heat. And after last night’s downpour, the air was so muggy it was hard to breathe—particularly in close quarters such as this.

  Ezekiel’s attention was drawn to Sara again. He hadn’t had the chance to see her since he dropped her off at the Lapps’ in his truck before taking it to his friend’s place.

  Ezekiel felt guilty for keeping the vehicle when Dad thought he had sold it. But at the same time, he just couldn’t let go of the truck, nor could he muster up the courage to move out of his parents’ home. Ezekiel felt like a teenager—wanting a certain thing so badly on one day that he could taste it, and desiring something else just as much on the following day. He needed to grow up and stop changing his mind, because he couldn’t have it both ways.

  Maybe when Sara goes back to her hometown, I’ll go with her. Ezekiel tugged on his shirtsleeve. It would be a lot easier to strike out on my own if I settled in a town where I knew someone.

  Now that it was nearing the end of the season for harvesting honey, Ezekiel hoped to have a little free time so he could see Sara more often. He would like to talk about his plan and see if she’d be okay with him tagging along. And when Sara leaves, she’ll have transportation, because I’ll have my driver’s license by then and can give her a ride in my truck.

  Ezekiel swiped a hand across his forehead, where more sweat had collected. But the greenhouse work would be picking up, since they raised poinsettias for the Christmas season. That might make it difficult to leave if Sara decided to go before Christmas. Some major businesses in the Lancaster area had quantities of poinsettias preordered to give out to their employees for the holiday. Many of their regular customers bought plants for Christmas gifts too. So the months coming up would be a super busy time for the greenhouse, and Mom and Dad would need Ezekiel’s help.

  Ezekiel reached around and rubbed a spot on his back, where it had begun to kink. Here I go again … Changing my mind about leaving. If I did venture out on my own soon, I’m sure Dad could hire someone to take my place in the greenhouse.

  He shifted on his bench, trying to find a comfortable position. Not sure what I’d do with the bees though. Maybe I could talk Abe or even Henry into taking over my honey business. It wouldn’t take much to train them. Think I’ll talk to Abe about it in the morning.

  The following morning, Mary Ruth and Michelle made a trip to the Kings’ greenhouse. Mary Ruth said she wanted to buy some basil, mint, and parsley. She also mentioned purchasing tulip and crocus bulbs, which she would plant in the next few weeks.

  When Michelle followed Mary Ruth into the greenhouse, she felt the increase in temperature. Too warm to be working here all day, she thought. I’m surprised Ezekiel hasn’t found another job where he can make enough money to support himself.

  She spotted Ezekiel’s mother waiting on a customer. Ezekiel was nearby, watering some plants. Apparently he hadn’t seen them yet, but when Belinda finished with her customer and welcomed Mary Ruth, Ezekiel set his work aside and hurried over to Michelle.

  While Belinda helped Mary Ruth find what she was looking for, Ezekiel suggested he and Michelle step outside.

  Michelle looked past Ezekiel and noticed the wrinkles in his mother’s forehead as she glanced her way, but Mary Ruth seemed oblivious to all of it, as she perused the pots of herbs. Does Belinda really think I’m a bad influence on her son? Doesn’t she realize he’s not happy being Amish, and it has nothing to do with me? He felt that way before I came into the picture. Ezekiel told me so.

  “There’s something I want to ask you,” Ezekiel said when they stepped outside and away from the greenhouse.

  She tipped her head back to look up at him. “What is it?”

  “Whenever you decide it’s time for you to return to your hometown, I’d like to go along. In fact, I’ll drive you there in my truck.”

  Her eyes widened. “You want to go to my house?”

  “No, I’m not asking to move in with you, Sara. I just thought if I could start over someplace where I know someone, it would be easier. I’m planning to talk to my brother Abe about taking over my bee business, and Mom and Dad can hire someone to take my place here in the greenhouse.” Ezekiel leaned against the retaining wall that had been built near the greenhouse. “I have some money saved up, and if I can’t find a job right away, I’ll sleep in my truck.”

  Michelle shook her head. “Not a good idea, Ezekiel. No one should ever have to live in their vehicle. It’s not safe, and the conditions would be anything but ideal.” Her voice lowered. “Besides, I’m not sure yet when I’ll be going back to my home, so I can’t make any promises about you going with me.” Truth was, Michelle didn’t want Ezekiel to take her to wherever she was going. It would give his parents one more reason to dislike her. And of course, she’d be blamed for his leaving. Not that it would really matter once she was gone, but Michelle didn’t want to live with any more blame. She’d already done enough to feel guilty for.

  Seeing Ezekiel’s desperate expression, she clasped his arm. “Let me think about it, okay?”

  He nodded slowly. “I’ll talk to you again soon.”

  Michelle fingered the neckline of her blouse, which was sticking to her like glue. She needed to make a decision soon as to what day she should leave and whether to include Ezekiel in her plans. I wonder what he’d say if he knew I don’t even have a home to return to. When I leave Strasburg, I’ll have to decide which direction to go. One thing is certain: it’ll be as far away from here as possible. I don’t want to be reminded of all I’ve left behind.

  Chapter 34

  On Monday morning, the last full week of September, it was all Michelle could do to roll out of bed. During the night, a terrible windstorm had struck with lots of heavy rain pelting the roof. All the noise kept her awake for several hours. At one point, she almost grabbed her blanket and went down to the living room to sleep on the couch. It was okay doing that when she was a little girl, but being a grown woman, she shouldn’t be acting so childish. It didn’t stop her though from pulling the covers up over her head, no matter how hard it was to breathe.

  Groaning, she lifted the window shade and peeked out. The yard below was littered with leaves, branches, limbs, sticks. Oh boy. That mess is gonna take awhile to pick up. Guess I’d better get dressed and head downstairs to breakfast. I’ll need all the strength I can muster in order to get through this day.

  Downstairs in the kitchen, Michelle found Mary Ruth in front of the counter, stirring p
ancake batter. She looked at Michelle through squinted eyes. “You look tired. Did last night’s storm keep you awake?”

  “Yeah. Did you and Grandpa get any sleep?”

  “A little.” Mary Ruth pointed to the back door. “Your grandpa’s already outside picking up some of the debris in the yard. He said I should call him when breakfast is ready.”

  “I’ll help him as soon as I’ve had something to eat.” Michelle patted her midsection. “I don’t work well on an empty stomach.”

  Mary Ruth smiled. “I understand. I’m the same way.” She gestured to the kitchen table. “Oh, there’s a letter for you.”

  “Y–you went out and got the mail?” Michelle’s heart pounded. What if another letter had come from the real Sara?

  “No, dear. The letter is from Brad, and it didn’t come in the mail. He dropped it by fifteen minutes ago and said it was for you.”

  Michelle’s fingers trembled as she reached for the envelope. Although thankful Mary Ruth had not gotten the mail, Michelle’s feelings about the letter from Brad were conflicted. Why hadn’t he asked to speak to her in person? Did he think it was easier to say goodbye this way?

  “If you’d like some privacy, you can read his letter in the living room.” Mary Ruth pushed a wisp of hair back under her dark colored head scarf. “I’ll let you know when it’s time to eat.”

  “Okay, thanks.” Clasping the letter to her chest, Michelle ducked out of the kitchen and went straight to the living room. Taking a seat on the couch, she read Brad’s letter silently.

  Dear Sara,

  As I’m sure you know, I’m leaving town today—heading to the seminary up in Clarks Summit, where I’ll be until I’m through with my ministerial studies. I thought about coming by to see you last week but decided it would be better to say goodbye this way. I can express myself easier with written words than if I spoke to you in person.

  First, I want to say that I’ve enjoyed spending time with you these past few months. I wish, however, that we could have become better acquainted. In talking to you, I’ve always felt you were dealing with some sort of problem but might be afraid to talk about it. I feel I may have failed you, because as a future clergyman, it will be my job to help people deal with their problems. Perhaps I am lacking in that area, because in all the times we’ve talked, you have never truly opened up to me.

  When we first met, I felt an immediate attraction, and I don’t think it was just physical. We enjoyed each other’s company, and I wanted to get to know you better. It didn’t take long for me to realize though that you don’t share my passion for Christ and the ministry to which I feel called.

  You seem happy when you’re with your grandparents, and it’s obvious they are very fond of you. Have you thought of moving to Strasburg permanently? Who knows—you might even decide to join the Amish church someday.

  Well, I’ve said more than I planned to in this letter, so I’ll end it by saying, I’ll be praying for you. And if you ever need to talk, I’m only a phone call away.

  May God bless you in the days ahead, and draw you close to Him.

  All the best,

  Brad

  Tears welled in Michelle’s eyes and dribbled down her cheeks. Brad knows there’s something not right about me. Maybe I should have told him the truth. Being the decent man he is, Brad probably could have given me some good direction.

  She rocked back and forth, holding his letter against her chest. But if I had told Brad who I really am, I’m sure he would have insisted that I admit it to Willis and Mary Ruth. I cannot tell those good people what I did to their face. I just can’t.

  “Did ya ever see such a mess?” Willis called to Michelle as the two of them worked on cleaning up the yard.

  She shook her head. “That was some storm we had last night.”

  “I’ll say.” He hoisted a few broken branches into the wheelbarrow. “And now, thanks to all that rain, we have more humid weather. I, for one, will be glad when the cooler temperatures get here.”

  Nodding, Michelle kept working on the pile she’d started. After Willis unloaded the wheelbarrow by the woodpile near the garden shed, she would haul her stack of wood out there.

  While Michelle worked, she reflected once again on the letter she’d received from Brad this morning. It probably was for the best that they hadn’t said their goodbyes face-to-face. It would have been difficult for her to look at him and not break down. It wasn’t just knowing she’d never see him again, although that was certainly a portion of it. The hardest part for Michelle would have been to face Brad, knowing all this time she’d been living a lie. She longed to tell him the truth, but she feared his reaction. Now he was gone. She would never have to know what his response to her deception would have been had she told him.

  Michelle was on the verge of bending down to pick up a strip of bark when she heard a snap. Before she had time to react, a limb that had broken off from the tree overhead clunked her on the head, bringing Michelle to her knees. “Yeow!”

  Willis was immediately at her side, and Mary Ruth, who had stepped outside, joined him there. “Ach! Sara, are you all right?” Mary Ruth’s fear was evident in her quavering voice.

  Michelle tried to stand as she brought a shaky hand to the top of her head. “I–I’ve got a mighty big lump, and I feel kinda woozy.” Her vision blurred as she weaved back and forth, and dropped back down to her knees.

  Mary Ruth fingered the lump and gasped. “I don’t see any blood but that lump is huge. Willis, you’d better call one of our drivers. I think we need to take Michelle to see a doctor—she could have a concussion.”

  Willis nodded. “I will help you get Sara on her feet and into the house. Then I’ll run out to the phone shed and make the call.”

  As Mary Ruth sat beside Sara on the couch, her concern for the young woman escalated. Sara had begun saying some strange things—mentioning people’s names Mary Ruth had never heard of and talking about events that made no sense at all. And she didn’t recognize Mary Ruth at first. The poor girl was clearly disoriented.

  “Why can’t Al or Sandy take me to the doctor? They took me there once before.”

  Mary Ruth placed her hand gently on Sara’s shoulder. “Who are Al and Sandy?”

  No response. Sara closed her eyes.

  “Don’t go to sleep, dear. If you have a concussion, you need to stay awake.”

  “I’m tired. Think I might throw up.”

  Mary Ruth dashed into the utility room and grabbed a bucket. She returned to the living room barely in time for Sara to empty her stomach into the bucket. “Wh–where’s Mom and Dad? Why aren’t they here? Don’t they care that I’m sick?”

  Mary Ruth looked up at Willis when he entered the house. “She’s not doing well. Did you get a driver to take us to the hospital emergency room?”

  “Jah. Stan Eaton should be here soon.”

  Mary Ruth released her breath. “Thank the Lord.”

  Chapter 35

  It had been seven days since Michelle got hit on the head, and she still didn’t feel quite right. While the nausea and dizziness were gone, the bump continued to hurt, and it was hard to concentrate or think clearly. The doctor said she had a moderate concussion, and it could take a few weeks to heal. Michelle was kept at the hospital overnight for observation and sent home the following day with instructions to rest. The doctor also reminded her not to engage in any strenuous activity that might lead to another injury.

  Mary Ruth had told Michelle that right after the accident she’d been disoriented and didn’t seem to know where she was for a time. Michelle had also talked about some people Mary Ruth didn’t know, whom Michelle had never mentioned before. Michelle hoped she hadn’t said anything that revealed her true identity, but if she had, surely Mary Ruth would have mentioned it by now.

  It was hard to sit around and do nothing, but what other choice did she have? Mary Ruth hovered around, making sure Michelle followed the doctor’s orders and didn’t do anything she wasn�
�t supposed to do. Willis took care of all the outside chores, including clearing away the rest of the mess that had been left from the storm. Some of his neighbors, as well as Ivan, offered to help out, but he insisted on doing it by himself. No wonder Mary Ruth sometimes called him stubborn.

  Ezekiel had come by twice to see how Michelle was doing, and also to offer his help if needed. Lenore dropped by once, on her way home from teaching at the schoolhouse. It felt good to know people cared about her, even though they didn’t realize she was someone else.

  Michelle’s biggest concern was not being allowed to walk out and get the mail the first few days after her injury. Fear that another letter from Sara Murray would come left her feeling anxious. But fortunately, no letters had been delivered, and now that Michelle was able to walk without feeling woozy, Mary Ruth had given in and let her resume getting the mail each morning. It was about the only thing she was allowed to do however. Mary Ruth made sure of that.

  This afternoon, as Michelle sat in a wicker chair on the front porch with Rascal snuggled in her lap, she thought about the quote she’d read this morning: “Every day is a second chance.” While Mary Ruth had been busy fixing breakfast and wasn’t aware of what Michelle was doing, she had gone down to the basement to look around and read some of the notes in the prayer jar again.

  On one of the slips of paper she’d also read Psalm 33:18: “Behold, the eye of the Lord is upon them that fear him, upon them that hope in his mercy.”

  Michelle wasn’t sure what it meant, but she’d put both pieces of paper in her pocket, as she had done with a few others she’d found in the prayer jar inside the barn. She planned to take them with her when she left this place, as a reminder of her time in Strasburg.

  “Mind if I join you?” Mary Ruth broke into Michelle’s contemplations.

  “Of course not. Please do.” Michelle gestured to the chair beside her.