The Hope Jar

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The Hope Jar Page 25

by Wanda E. Brunstetter


  Mary Ruth took a seat and reached over to stroke Rascal’s head. “This little guy sure seems to like you, Sara.”

  Michelle nodded. “I like Rascal too, and I’m gonna miss him when I go back home, which should be soon. I’ve been here several months and have probably worn out my welcome by now.”

  Mary Ruth pressed a hand to her abdomen. “No, you haven’t, and I wish you would reconsider and stay for a while longer. Why, you’re still recovering from a head injury. Besides, it would be so nice if you could be here for the holidays this year. Thanksgiving will be here before we know it, and then Christmas.”

  “I’m curious—how do the Amish celebrate the holidays?” Michelle asked.

  “Well, Thanksgiving is celebrated in our district in much the same way as many English people celebrate it. In the morning we gather our family for devotions, and everyone often shares something they feel grateful for.” Mary Ruth folded her arms and leaned her head against the back of her chair. “Then the adults and older children have a time of prayer and fasting during the morning hours. But around noon we gather with our family members for a delicious, traditional Thanksgiving dinner.”

  “So you have turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, and all the trimmings.”

  “That’s correct. We might also have a variety of vegetables and salads, as well as fresh bread or rolls.” Mary Ruth licked her lips. “And of course after the meal, we eat dessert and spend the rest of the day visiting while the children play games.”

  “Sounds like a relaxing day and a lot of fun too.” Just hearing about it caused Michelle to wish she could be here for Thanksgiving and take part in helping to cook, as well as eat, the meal. “What about Christmas? Do you celebrate the same we English people do?”

  “To a certain extent we do, but there are no decorated trees or blinking lights inside our homes,” Mary Ruth clarified.

  Rascal woke up and began to squirm, so Michelle set him on the porch floor. A short time later, he ambled down the steps and into the yard. “So you don’t do any Christmas decorating at all?”

  “Some Amish string the Christmas cards they receive around a room in their home. And a few people might set out some candles or greenery, but nothing fancy.”

  “What about gifts? Do you give each other Christmas presents?” Michelle found all this information about Amish traditions to be so interesting.

  “Yes. On Christmas morning after we’ve had devotions, the children will open their gifts.” Mary Ruth’s voice was light and bubbly. “In the afternoon, we share a big meal, and if Christmas Day falls near the end of the week, some church districts hold their service on Christmas morning instead of the usual Sunday service.”

  Michelle clasped her hands behind her neck. “It all sounds wonderful. I’m sure you must have a good time.”

  “Yes, we certainly do, and we’d really like you to stay through the holidays, Sara.”

  Seeing Mary Ruth’s pleading expression, Michelle nodded. “Okay, I’ll stay until after Christmas.”

  Mary Ruth placed her hand on Michelle’s arm and gave it a tender squeeze. “That’s wunderbaar. I know Willis will also be pleased.”

  Michelle swallowed around the lump in her throat. There was no way she could keep the promise she’d made. The real Sara would be arriving sometime this month, and she had to be gone by then. As soon as she felt strong enough, she would leave the Lapps a note explaining the truth and head out on her own.

  “Thanksgiving will be a wonderful occasion.” Mary Ruth’s face radiated with pleasure. “We’ll invite Ivan, along with his wife and children, and there will be so much good food we won’t know what to do with it all.”

  When Mary Ruth began to reminisce about what the holidays were like when Rhoda was a girl, Michelle concentrated on Rascal and tuned her out. It was too painful to hear about this, knowing she would not have the opportunity to be a part of their holiday celebrations. No doubt, Michelle would probably be sitting in some dreary old apartment, feeling sorry for herself on Thanksgiving, as well as Christmas.

  Michelle wished she had some good recollections of the holidays, but her upbringing hadn’t left any pleasant memories. As a child, Thanksgiving always ended up with her parents fighting. On one Christmas, a neighbor called the cops, and Dad was hauled off to jail. Not much good about those holidays to remember.

  The time Michelle had spent with her foster parents was a little better, but nothing like she’d hoped it would be. Al and Sandy Newman were nice enough, but they had three kids of their own, plus Michelle and two other foster children, so they couldn’t afford to do much for the holidays.

  When asked by her friends in school about what she got for Christmas, Michelle couldn’t admit how things really were, so she would pretend everything was great and make things up about all the gifts she’d supposedly received. Maybe the reason pretending came so easy to her was because she’d had a lot of practice. But if it was the only way she had to get a sense of truly belonging, however temporary, Michelle would keep pretending for as long as she could.

  Compared to living with her birth parents, being with the foster family hadn’t been nearly so bad. But here, with Mary Ruth and Willis, it was like having a real family—grandparents who cared about her and took care of her needs. Too bad it couldn’t last.

  Ezekiel urged Big Red on. He was eager to see Sara and find out how she was doing today. A hit on the head could be serious, and if she didn’t take it easy, there might be repercussions. The last time he’d gone to see Sara, she’d looked tired and appeared to be distracted. Hopefully after more than a week of recovery, she was doing better.

  Approaching the Lapps’ driveway, Ezekiel guided his horse and buggy off the road. When he pulled up to the hitching rail, he spotted Mary Ruth sitting on the porch, snapping green beans.

  “I came by to see Sara,” he said, stepping onto the porch. “How’s she doing today?”

  Mary Ruth barely looked up from her task as she mumbled, “She’s better but still needs to rest.” Eyebrows squeezing together, she added, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for her to go anywhere with you today.”

  “I didn’t come to ask her to go anyplace with me.” Ezekiel tapped his heel against the wooden porch slats. “Just wanted to see how she’s doing.” He glanced at the back door. “Is she inside?”

  Mary Ruth shook her head. “She took a walk out to the barn with Rascal a short time ago.”

  “Oh, okay. I’ll head out there and say hello.”

  When Mary Ruth gave no response, Ezekiel turned, trotted down the steps, and ran to the barn. He found Sara inside, sitting in a pile of straw. Her puppy was curled up beside her with his head in Sara’s lap.

  “I talked to your grandma and she said you were in here. Didn’t see any sign of your grandpa though.”

  “He went to the bank.”

  “Oh, I see. So how are you feeling today?” Ezekiel squatted down beside her. “Is that bump you got still pretty sore?”

  She reached up and touched the top of her head. “A little. The swelling’s gone down quite a bit though.”

  “Good to hear.” He lowered himself to his knees and moved closer to her. “I think Mary Ruth is still umgerennt with me.”

  “Why would she be upset?”

  His eyes widened. “Oh, you knew what that meant?”

  Sara nodded. “Willis says it sometimes when he’s upset with the hogs. When I questioned him about the word, he explained its Pennsylvania Dutch meaning.” She touched Ezekiel’s arm. “Why do you think Mary Ruth is upset with you?”

  “She’s been less than friendly ever since she found out I own a truck. I can’t understand why it would bother her so much. I’m not their son or any other relation of theirs.” He lowered his voice. “Don’t think she’s said anything to my folks about it though. If she had, Dad would be all over me for not selling the truck and parking it at my friend’s place.” Feeling a headache coming on, Ezekiel massaged his forehead. “My daed says if there
’s one thing he can’t tolerate, it’s a liar.”

  Sara sat quietly, staring straight ahead.

  He snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Did ya hear what I said?”

  “Yeah. I was just wondering how you feel about people who don’t tell the truth.”

  He shrugged. “Well, it all depends on who’s lyin’ and what they’re lying about.”

  “So do you believe it’s all right to lie to your folks?”

  “I’m not really lying. I told Dad I would move the truck off my cousin’s property, and I did.” Ezekiel didn’t understand why Sara was questioning him like this. “Do you think I should sell my truck and join the Amish church? Is that what you’re getting at?”

  “I don’t know what you should do, Ezekiel. It’s a decision you’ll need to make. Guess what I’m wondering is how you feel about not telling your parents the truth. Doesn’t it make you feel guilty?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, it does. But if I tell ’em I still own the truck, Dad may kick me out of his house.”

  “Guess there’s always a consequence for not telling the truth.” Sara glanced toward the barn door, then looked back at Ezekiel. “There’s something I need to talk to you about, but you have to promise not to tell anybody—just like I never told anyone about your truck. At least not till you drove me home in it that day.”

  Nodding, he shooed a pesky fly away from his face. “I care about you, Sara, and you can tell me anything.”

  She heaved a sigh. “I’m not the person you think I am.”

  He placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I think I have a pretty good idea what kind of person you are.”

  “No, you don’t. In fact, you don’t know me at all.”

  “Yes, I do. I know you’re kind, sweet, and—”

  She held up her hand. “I’m none of those things. I’m an imposter.”

  He tipped his head to one side. “What are you talking about?”

  “My name is not Sara Murray. I’m Michelle Taylor, and the Lapps are not my grandparents.”

  Ezekiel’s thoughts scrambled, as he tried to digest what she’d said. “Are you making all this up just to tease me, or has that whack you took on the head messed with your brain?”

  Sara’s lips trembled, and her eyes glistened with tears. “I am not making this up, and it has nothing to do with getting hit on the head. When Willis and Mary Ruth went to the Philadelphia bus station back in June to pick up their granddaughter Sara, they thought I was her.” She paused and drew in a shaky breath. “I needed a place to go real bad, so I went along with it and let them believe I was Sara.”

  Ezekiel sat quietly with his hands folded in his lap, as Michelle went on to explain things. When she got to the part about intercepting the real Sara’s letters, he’d heard enough. “I thought we were friends, Sara—I mean, Michelle. A true friend would never deceive someone like that, especially not to this extent.” He glanced toward the door. “And what about Willis and Mary Ruth? How could you have lied to those good people?”

  It was all Ezekiel could do to keep from shouting. All these months he thought he and this pretend Sara were drawing closer—that they might even have a future together some day, if he decided to go English. Now he realized she’d been playing him for a fool. Worse yet, she’d conned two of the nicest people in the world into believing she was their granddaughter. How despicable was that?

  Ezekiel leaped to his feet. Feeling a tightness around his eyes, he said through clenched teeth: “I wish you’d never come to Lancaster County.” With that, he whirled around, jerked open the double barn doors, and made a beeline for his horse and buggy. He’d never felt so betrayed in all his life. Sara—Michelle—was not the woman for him.

  Chapter 36

  Newark

  Sara’s thoughts raced as she began packing her bags and getting ready for the trip to her grandparents’ house this morning. It had been difficult to wait until October, but here it was October 3rd, and she would soon be greeting the Lapps for the first time. She was excited, yet nervous.

  There was so much she wanted to share with them. Sara was eager to tell her grandparents about the business classes she’d taken at the local community college this summer, and how she’d been working part-time at a dental office. She also thought they might want to know what her childhood was like. And of course there were personal things about her mother to share with Willis and Mary Ruth.

  She took a seat on her bed, holding the blue-and-black beaded bracelet and matching necklace she’d made for her grandmother, along with the keychain for her grandfather. In addition to the silver ring for his keys, there was a small leather patch connected to it that she had etched with the letter L for Lapp.

  Sara planned to drive to their home in Strasburg, instead of taking the bus as she’d originally planned. Since some repairs had been done to her vehicle, it only made sense to go there by car. If Sara had figured it right, the trip would take a little over two hours. She could travel at her leisure and make stops along the way, as needed.

  She hoped to stay several days, or even a few weeks with her grandparents, if Mary Ruth and Willis had a spare room and wanted her to stay that long. Since she hadn’t heard from them since that last letter, she wasn’t even sure if she’d be welcomed, much less invited to stay in their home. The Lapps might be satisfied with just a short visit.

  Her lips pressed together. Well, I won’t know till I get there, so I may as well stop worrying about it.

  Sara was about to close the suitcase when she looked toward the nightstand and saw her mother’s Bible. Oops, I cannot forget that.

  Sara took the Bible and opened it, making sure her mother’s note was tucked safely inside before she put it under her neatly packed clothes and zippered shut the suitcase. She felt it necessary to show her grandparents the letter their daughter had written.

  Then Sara remembered her birth certificate that she wanted to take along. She had gone to the local office supply store and made a copy of it to give her grandparents. Although they hadn’t asked in their letter to see a birth certificate as proof of who she was, Sara wanted to make sure she could prove she was Rhoda’s daughter. The Bible, the note her mother wrote, and the certificate should be enough to verify who she was.

  Sara rose from the bed and stood in front of the full-length mirror to check her appearance. She’d chosen a pair of crisp linen slacks in navy blue, and a white tank top with a short-sleeved navy blue jacket for her traveling attire. Around her neck she wore her mother’s favorite scarf, and the scarf ring she had recently made held it in place.

  Her long blond hair had been freshly washed, and as always, she’d let it air dry. One advantage of having naturally wavy hair was the ease of styling it.

  Satisfied that she looked all right, Sara picked up her suitcase and handbag. Taking one last glance in the mirror, she left her room. Well, Mama, here I go. It was time for her adventure to begin.

  Strasburg

  Michelle felt grateful that Mary Ruth and Willis were out running errands and wouldn’t be back until sometime this afternoon. It gave her the time she needed to get ready for her departure and be gone before they returned.

  Knowing the real Sara could be here any day, Michelle couldn’t wait any longer. Besides, she worried that Ezekiel might say something to the Lapps about what she’d confided in him before she had the chance to leave.

  Michelle couldn’t deal with her deceit anymore, but there was no way she could face Mary Ruth and Willis with the truth. She’d taken the coward’s way out and left them a note on the kitchen table. As soon as the Lapps had left this morning, Michelle called their driver, Stan, to pick her up. Then she’d packed her bags and now sat on the front porch, waiting for his arrival.

  She wished she could see Ezekiel before she left and apologize to him for ruining their relationship, but he’d left in such a huff yesterday, she felt sure he wouldn’t want to talk to her. Anything that may have been between them had been
destroyed once Ezekiel learned the truth about her deceit. If I were Amish and joined the church, I’d most likely be shunned for the lie I’ve told.

  Michelle shifted on the bench she sat upon. Who is he to cast judgment on me, anyhow? Ezekiel’s been lying to his parents all these months about his truck, and he won’t make a commitment to join the Amish church or decide to officially become a part of the English world. He’s just stringing his family along, all because he’s too afraid to make a decision he might later regret.

  Under the circumstances, Michelle believed a clean break was for the best. Once the Lapps found her note, they would tell Ezekiel and others in their church district why she had left. Then undoubtedly Ezekiel would tell them he already knew. Michelle would never have to see any of them again, so hopefully, she could move past all of this and find her way through life on her own. Although she couldn’t imagine that she would ever amount to anything.

  As Michelle continued to wait for Stan, Rascal and Sadie plodded onto the porch with wagging tails. A sense of sadness washed over her, as she leaned down and let the dogs take turns licking her hands. She was not only saying goodbye to the people she’d come to think of as her family, but also to the loving animals she’d grown so fond of here on this farm. She would miss taking care of them, especially Rascal, who had come to depend on her.

  “Sure wish I could take you with me,” Michelle murmured, stroking Rascal’s silky soft head. “But it’s just not possible, since I’m not sure where I’ll end up or if and when I’ll find a job.”

  Michelle had no money of her own. What little she’d had when she first came here, she’d spent on necessities, not to mention Ezekiel’s birthday gift. Since she knew where the Lapps kept some extra cash, she’d opened the cupboard this morning and taken down the old coffee can. She’d removed all the money she thought she’d need to get by on until she found a job. Not only was she a liar, but she was a thief as well.

  But I’m gonna pay it back as soon as I can, she told herself, hoping to justify why she’d taken it. I’ll get a money order and mail it to them, as I promised I would do in the note I wrote.

 

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