The Hope Jar

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  Willis faced the young woman. “If you’re selling something, sorry, but we’re not interested.”

  “No, I’m not a salesperson. I’m your granddaughter, Sara Murray.”

  The wrinkles across Willis’s forehead deepened as he looked at Mary Ruth through squinted eyes. “Didn’t you tell her that our grossdochder is in the house?”

  “I did, but she insists that she’s Sara and said the auburn-haired woman told her to wait for us in the house, and that she”—Mary Ruth paused to wipe a tear from her eye, barely able to swallow—“She said Sara—or whoever she is—got in a van and left.”

  “Whoever she is?” Head flinching back slightly, Willis tugged his beard. “Let’s all go in the house and talk about this. There has to be some explanation.”

  Back inside the living room, Sara took a seat on the couch, while the Lapps sat in the matching pair of recliners. Feeling a desperate need to prove to them who she was, she went to her suitcase and took out her mother’s Bible. Then she reached inside her purse and pulled out a manila envelope. “Inside this envelope is my birth certificate, and here is my mother’s Bible. If you open the Bible, you’ll find the note my mother left, telling me about you. I brought both along in case you had any questions or doubts about my mother being your daughter.” She got up and handed the envelope and Bible to the woman whom she felt sure was her grandmother.

  Mary Ruth stared at the Bible, running her hands over the worn cover. Slowly and tenderly, she opened it as if afraid to see what was inside. “Why, this was my own mother’s Bible. She gave it to me a few months before she died, and then in turn, I gave the Bible to Rhoda, thinking it might help her decide to settle down and join the Amish church.” She looked up at Sara with the raw sentiment she must be feeling and gingerly took out the note.

  Sara watched with pity when her grandmother’s hand went to her mouth. “It’s Rhoda’s handwriting all right.” Her voice shook with emotion as she handed the note to her husband. Clutching the Bible close to her chest, Mary Ruth’s chin trembled. “And this is indeed the Bible we gave her shortly before she turned eighteen.”

  Next Mary Ruth pulled out the piece of paper from the manila envelope. After reading it over, she got up and showed it to her husband. “What do you make of this, Willis?”

  “I don’t know.” Rubbing his forehead as though in extreme pain, he left his chair, ambled into the hallway, and disappeared into another room.

  Sara returned to the couch and waited nervously for him to come back.

  A few minutes later, Willis shuffled into the living room, holding a piece of paper and slowly shaking his head. “She’s gone, Mary Ruth, and her name is not Sara.”

  Mary Ruth looked up at him with furrowed brows. “Who is she then?”

  “I found this note from her on the kitchen table. Her name is Michelle Taylor.” Willis pressed one hand to his temple. “And if that’s not bad enough, her message said she’d taken money from the coffee can in our cupboard.”

  Mary Ruth’s mouth hung slightly open. “Oh my! I never in a million years expected she would do something like that.”

  “Yeah, well supposedly she plans to pay us back when she finds a job.” Willis waved the piece of paper he held and grunted. “I doubt we’ll ever see Michelle again, much less any of the money she took.”

  Sara shifted uneasily in her seat. It was difficult seeing her grandparents having to deal with all this. She wished there was a way to make them feel better, but she couldn’t think of anything beneficial to say.

  “But—but why would she deceive us like this all these months?” With slumped shoulders, Mary Ruth dropped her gaze to the floor. “I thought she cared about us.”

  “In the letter, she apologized for lying and said she’d wanted to confess but couldn’t find the nerve to do it. She felt leaving this way was better.” Willis’s face contorted. “Maybe it was best for her, but certainly not us.”

  Mary Ruth’s cheeks appeared hollow as she stared vacantly across the room. “If only she had come to us sooner and told the truth.”

  Willis moved closer to Mary Ruth and handed her the note. “Here. You can read it. There’s more.”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “Seriously?”

  “Jah. While Michelle was here, she intercepted the real Sara’s letters and kept them from us. Oh, and she also wrote Sara back, pretending to be you.”

  Mary Ruth held the piece of paper her husband had found, and as she read it, tears coursed down her wrinkled cheeks. “Oh dear. Oh dear … I thought she cared about us as much as we did her.”

  Sara inhaled sharply as she sagged against the couch. I know they are both suffering, but I’m their real granddaughter. Don’t they even care about me?

  Chapter 38

  We weren’t very cordial earlier to our rightful granddaughter,” Mary Ruth said as she helped Willis rub down his horse. “The poor girl looked so verhuddelt when we showed her to the other guest room upstairs and said we were going out to the barn to take care of a chore.”

  “She did look confused, and we sure couldn’t give her the room Sara—I mean Michelle—stayed in. Under the circumstances, it wouldn’t seem right.”

  “That’s true, especially when the bed would need clean sheets and everything.” Mary Ruth sighed. “This is all such a shock, Willis. I can’t get over the fact that we were lied to all these months and had no idea Michelle wasn’t our granddaughter. It certainly seemed as if she was.”

  “It is hard to comprehend,” he agreed, “but some things are beginning to make sense to me now.”

  “Like what?”

  Willis set the curry comb aside and moved closer to Mary Ruth. “There were times when she acted sort of naerfich and like she might be hiding something.”

  “Jah, and after she got hit on the head, she was mentioning people’s names that we’d never heard before. At first she didn’t seem to know who I was.” Grimacing, Mary Ruth shook her head. “But I assumed all that was because she was disoriented due to her concussion.”

  “Look how hard it was for her to call us Grandpa and Grandma at first and how vague she was when we asked certain questions.” Willis massaged the bridge of his nose.

  “I still can’t believe that young lady helped herself to the money we had in the cupboard.” Mary Ruth’s face tightened as she slowly shook her head. “I wonder if we’ll ever hear from her again, or if she will pay us back.”

  Willis shook his head. “No. As I said earlier, I doubt we’ll ever see the money or Michelle, for that matter.” Bashful nickered, and he reached out to pet the horse’s flank. “We have to accept the fact that we may never hear from her again. Although, from what I read in her note, it did seem that she was genuinely sorry for pretending to be our granddaughter, as well as for taking the money.”

  “Since she had no cash of her own, she was most likely desperate. Without funds, how would she be able to start over?”

  Willis bobbed his head. “The part that really got to me in Michelle’s note is where she told about the letters our real granddaughter had written and she’d intercepted. What kind of a person could do something like that, Mary Ruth?”

  “I don’t know. And to think that she went so far as to write Sara back and pretend it was me who’d sent the letter.” Mary Ruth’s hands dropped to her sides. “I haven’t felt this deflated since Rhoda ran away from home.”

  Willis slipped his arm around Mary Ruth’s waist and pulled her gently to his side. “There is really nothing we can do for Michelle except pray for her. What we need to do now is focus on our true granddaughter, who is waiting for us in the house, and make sure she feels welcomed.”

  Sara stood at the foot of the bed in the guest room she was taken to before her grandparents went outside. This was not the kind of greeting she’d hoped for, and the disappointment she felt caused her to wonder if she should spend just one night and return to her duplex in the morning. What this Michelle person had done was deplorable, yet Willis and Mary Ruth
seemed more focused on the imposter than they were on Sara.

  As much as she hated to admit it, Sara felt envious of her impersonator. All those months Michelle had been here, pretending to be her and taking advantage of two elderly people who apparently wanted to meet their granddaughter so badly that they’d fallen right into the play-actor’s trap.

  Sara’s jaw clenched. It should have been me getting to know my grandparents, not the redhead. And now I have to wonder if I’ll ever get a chance to bond with them.

  Sara turned away from the bed and stared out the window, watching as her grandparents crossed the yard and headed for the house. I wish there was something I could say or do to worm my way into their hearts.

  She thought about the blue dress and black apron her grandmother wore. It reminded her of the special scarf she’d given to her mother. Is that why Mama liked the scarf so much? Did it make her think of her mother’s blue dress and black apron?

  Sara jumped when a knock sounded on the bedroom door. “Come in,” she called.

  The door opened, and her grandmother stepped inside. “I’ll be starting supper in a few hours. Is there anything special you would like, or would you care for a little snack to tide you over?”

  Sara shook her head. “I’m not a fussy eater, so don’t go to any bother on my account. I made a sandwich this morning to eat during my trip, and I ate that when I got outside of Newark. But I am a little hungry, now that you mention it.” She moved toward the door. “If you’ll show me what you’d prefer that I eat, I’d be happy to fix my own snack. And later, I’ll be more than willing to help you with the evening meal.”

  At first Mary Ruth shook her head, but then she nodded. “All right. Working in the kitchen together will give us a chance to get acquainted. I have many questions I would like to ask, and I’m sure you do too. So how about if I peel an apple, and you can cut some cheese to go with it?”

  “That sounds perfect.”

  They left the room together and descended the stairs. As they started down the hall toward the kitchen, Mary Ruth stopped walking and slipped her arm around Sara’s waist. “I hope you will be patient with me and your grandfather. Learning that the young woman we thought was Rhoda’s daughter was only pretending to be her has been quite a shock to us both. We grew to love the young woman very much. It’s going to take a bit of time for Willis and me to adjust to this, but we are pleased to finally meet our real granddaughter.”

  Sara’s throat constricted, and she could barely swallow. “Thank you, Grandmother. I have so been looking forward to meeting you both, but if my presence here is too painful, I don’t have to stay. I can return to my home in Newark in the morning.”

  The older woman shook her head so hard the ties on her kapp swished across her face. “No, we want you to stay with us for as long as you can.”

  In a voice choked with tears, Sara said, “I can stay a couple of weeks, but then I’ll have to get back to my part-time job.”

  Her grandma’s face fairly beamed as she nodded her head. “I understand, and we’d be pleased to have you here for two weeks. It will give us all a chance to get to know each other.”

  Ezekiel had calmed down some since Michelle’s confession yesterday, but he still didn’t understand why she had done it. After supper, he’d decided to make a trip over to the Lapps to see if she had told Willis and Mary Ruth the truth yet. He hoped she had, and if so, he was eager to hear what their response had been. All of this had gotten him to thinking about his own dishonesty with his parents. He had to reach from within and admit to Dad that he hadn’t sold the truck but had moved it to his friend’s place in Smoketown. Even if telling the truth meant having to move out of his parents’ house, it was the right thing to do.

  When Ezekiel pulled his horse into the Lapps’ yard, he saw a blond-haired woman sitting on the porch next to Mary Ruth. He’d never seen this person before and wondered if she might be new to Strasburg, or maybe a friend of the Lapps from out of the area.

  After securing Big Red to the hitching post, Ezekiel hurried across the yard. “Where’s Sara, and how is she doing this evening?” he asked, looking at Mary Ruth.

  Before Mary Ruth could respond, the young woman spoke. “My name is Sara Murray, and if you’re referring to the auburn-haired woman whose real name is Michelle, she’s gone.”

  Ezekiel reached under his straw hat and scratched the side of his head. “Huh?” He looked back at Mary Ruth. “Where did she go?”

  Mary Ruth gestured to the empty chair beside her. “Have a seat and I’ll explain everything.”

  Ezekiel sat and listened as she told about Michelle’s letter, and how when the real Sara showed up, Michelle had gotten in a driver’s van and driven off. She touched the young woman’s arm. “This is our real granddaughter. Michelle was only pretending, and as you can imagine, Willis and I are deeply hurt by her deception.”

  He nodded. “I understand. I was too.”

  Mary Ruth’s brows drew inward. “What are you saying, Ezekiel? Did you know Michelle was an imposter?”

  “Not until yesterday when I came to see how she was doing. That’s when I found out the truth.” He looked at Mary Ruth. “Remember, you told me she was in the barn?”

  Mary Ruth slowly nodded.

  “Well, when I went out there to talk to her, she confessed the whole thing to me.” He shifted his weight on the chair. “I was so upset that I rushed out of there and went straight home to think things through.” Ezekiel sighed. “I never expected she would just up and leave without saying anything to you. Especially since she was still recovering from her head injury.”

  Mary Ruth leaned her head back and groaned. “Oh that’s right. She’s not out of the woods yet. I really wish she would have told us the truth. I realize now that basically none of the things Michelle said to us were true.”

  “Would you have understood if she had told you to your face that she’d been deceiving you and Willis all along?”

  “Jah, I believe so. Well, maybe not at first.”

  “It’s hard to forgive when someone you’ve come to care about hurts you,” Willis said joining them on the porch.

  Ezekiel jumped up. “Here, Willis, you can have my seat.”

  Willis held up one hand. “Stay seated, young man. I’ll get one of the folding chairs inside the house.” He stepped inside and returned a few minutes later with a metal chair. “Now where were we?” he asked, sitting down.

  “You were saying it’s hard to forgive someone who has hurt you,” the real Sara spoke up.

  Willis nodded. “Ah yes. Even though it is difficult, the Bible tells us in the book of Matthew, chapter 6, verse 14: ‘For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.’ ”

  Mary Ruth pinched the skin at her throat. “I only wish we knew where Sara—I mean, Michelle—went when she left here. Someone needs to be in contact with her to make sure she’s all right.”

  “Who was her driver?” Ezekiel asked.

  Mary Ruth shrugged, then looked over at Sara. “Do you remember what color the vehicle was that she got into?”

  “It was a gray minivan. I didn’t see the license plate though.”

  Willis snapped his fingers. “Our only driver with a gray van is Stan. Jah, I’ll bet he picked Michelle up. So if it was Stan, then he’d know where she is.”

  Ezekiel stood. “Should I go call him now and see what I can find out?”

  Mary Ruth shook her head. “Stan usually goes to bed early. It’s best that we wait till morning to make the call.” She looked at Ezekiel. “We’ll let you know what we find out.”

  Harrisburg

  Michelle lay on the lumpy mattress in her stuffy motel room, staring at the ceiling. She had originally thought she might ask the Lapps’ driver to take her to the train station, and then she would head for Columbus, Ohio, where her foster parents lived. But she’d decided not to go there after all. She had been gone six years with no contact whatsoever and might not be
welcome. Now she was in Harrisburg, a city she’d never visited before and where she knew no one. Such a lonely existence. She missed Mary Ruth, Willis, Ezekiel, and even little Rascal. Too bad I couldn’t have brought him along to keep me company. It might seem weird to someone else, but Michelle even missed the bonging of the Lapps’ grandfather clock. She pretty much missed everything about being on Willis and Mary Ruth’s farm.

  Michelle had to figure out what to do next. It hurt too much to think about what she’d left behind in Strasburg. It was best to concentrate on the future. Could she find a job and a decent place to live? She sure didn’t want to stay here any longer than necessary. The price of the room might be cheap, but the place was a dump. Not nearly as comfortable as her cozy room at the Lapps’ with clean sheets and a colorful quilt on the bed. As soon as she found a job, she would look for an apartment she could afford.

  Maybe it was best she didn’t know any people in Harrisburg. She was so ashamed of what she’d done to Willis and Mary Ruth she couldn’t face anyone right now—not even strangers.

  She sat up, reached into her purse, and pulled out a slip of paper she’d found in one of the prayer jars. Her chin trembled as she whispered the words, “Dear God, help me to trust You with the present, as well as the future.”

  The question was: Could she do it? Did she even have a future?

  Chapter 39

  It had been nearly two weeks since Michelle arrived in Harrisburg, and here she was, still living at the bug-ridden hotel. The place was crawling with ants, and she’d seen a roach in the bathroom. She’d been able to find a job waiting tables at a local diner, but it would take time before she had enough money saved up to look for a decent place to live—not to mention the need to return what she took from the Lapps.

  Michelle felt closed in. She opened the window to let in some air. Even though it was early October, the weather remained warm and humid. The air-conditioning unit inside her hotel room was old and didn’t work well enough to keep the room cooled. It was so rickety and noisy there was no point in turning it on. To make things worse, the room smelled like stale cigarette smoke—no doubt from whomever had stayed here before. The walls were paper thin, and she could hear the TV and conversations going on in the rooms on either side of her.