Redeeming Grace and the Prodigal Son Returns

by Emma Miller

  Not that John would be like that. She could tell that he wasn’t that kind of man.

  The sad thing was, John was exactly what she was looking for, or he would have been, if he were Amish. She had a hunch that John would be an easy man to fall in love with if she was looking for love. Which she was. Just not romantic love.

  For her, God’s forgiveness, faith and the love of family and community had to come first. Becoming Amish was the only way she could see to make up for her past. She had to choose between a life of service and worship over a life of self. She had to choose God over the world; she believed there was mercy and peace waiting if she could step away from temptation.

  Finding a solid Amish husband was part of the package, a man who lived simply and put God first in his life, a man who could guide her in the same path. Women married for lots of reasons. Some chose men who could provide them with diamond rings, big houses and fancy cars. Others picked guys for their hot looks and muscles. Grace hoped that she would be wiser. This time, she meant to find a husband best suited to fit into what she believed was God’s plan for her, a man who would be a good father to her child, and one she could respect. She knew what she was looking for...a Plain man like...like Roland Byler.

  The problem was, none of the Amish men seemed to notice she was alive, especially not Roland Byler. She’d seen him three times since she’d met him at the cider pressing weeks ago, but the most conversation she’d gotten out of him was a brief comment about the weather.

  “Did I say something to offend you?” John asked.

  “What?” Grace blinked. “I’m sorry. I was thinking about...” She offered him an apologetic smile. “It’s not you. Really. I guess I’m under a lot of stress. Not the job,” she hurried to say. “Everybody at the office has been great. It’s the nicest place I’ve ever worked. You have a great kennel area. I love the setup and the fenced-in play area for the dogs. I just...”

  He turned the truck off the blacktop into a farm lane and brought the vehicle to a stop. “But?” he asked.

  Grace supposed she should have been alarmed, his pulling over like this, but it was John, and she wasn’t afraid of him. Besides, she had to share her concerns with someone or burst.

  “It’s not as easy fitting into Hannah’s family as I thought it would be,” she blurted.

  A smile played on his lips. “Or among the Amish in general?”

  She nodded, slipping her hands out of her sleeves to rest them on the seat. “True.”

  “It’s tough. I’ve been working in the community for almost five years and I’ve made a lot of friends among them. We have a lot in common. I belong to the Mennonite Church, the Amish and Mennonites spring from the same beginnings. We share a lot of the same beliefs.”

  She waited, sensing a but coming. John didn’t disappoint her.

  “But they are apart from the world. It’s a tight community. Sometimes I feel welcome, sometimes I don’t.” He hesitated. “The fact is, Grace, they may never let you in. Not completely.”

  She curled her legs under her and scooted up on the wide seat. “I know that. But it will be different for Dakota.” She couldn’t help smiling as she remembered how cute he looked in his little straw hat and high-top boots. “It’s already different for him. You should hear him speaking Pennsylvania Dutch. And he knows the rules better than I do. We’ve been here only five weeks, and he’s taken Hannah, Susanna, my sisters, his cousins—even Grossmama and Aunt Jezzy—to heart. He and Jonah are inseparable, and Dakota adores Susanna.”

  “What do you think of the worship services?”

  Grace took a deep breath and exhaled softly. “They’re long.”

  He grinned.

  “I love the singing—it’s almost like chanting. I can’t understand the words, but the hymns give me goose bumps. Good ones.” She closed her eyes. “You can just feel the joy in those hymns.”

  He let her go on.

  “I understand a little Pennsylvania Dutch, and I’m picking up more every day. But the ministers read from the Bible and quote from it in High German. I’m sure I’ll get more from it when my German improves.”

  He rubbed his gloved hand over the top of the steering wheel. “You’re a brave woman, Grace. Not easily discouraged by what some would think an impossible task. Uncle Albert said he’d never heard of an Englisher successfully converting to the Old Order Amish.” He shrugged. “But it could be different for you, with Hannah’s help, and your sisters. I never knew your father that well, but people speak well of him. You’ve got that on your side, too.”

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive my mother for keeping me from him,” she admitted. “I know that we can’t expect the Lord to forgive us if we can’t find forgiveness in our hearts for others. But all those years that I spent in foster care could have been so different if I’d been able to come here. Of course Jonas might not have wanted me, might have turned me away....”

  John reached out and brushed her hand with his gloved one. “He would have wanted you, Grace. Hannah would have wanted you. You’re right. It was wrong of your mother to keep you from knowing your father and your family. She robbed you of your childhood, but she must have had her reasons.”

  “Not good ones. Not from where I sit. I loved her—don’t get me wrong. She did the best she could, or at least she did what she thought was best for me. But it hurts so much that I never got to meet my father.” She looked through the windshield at the swirling snow. “Not once.”

  His fingers tightened around hers. “But you have to try to forgive her. Like you said, you have to let it go. Otherwise, bitterness will poison you.”

  She sighed and looked back at him, pulling her hand from his. It just felt too good there. “I know, but it isn’t easy.” And not just Trudie, she thought. I have to forgive Joe or I’ll never be able to move on.

  She sat up straight and rubbed her hands briskly together. Any more of this, and she’d be blubbering like a baby. “What are you doing tomorrow for Thanksgiving?” she asked, anxious to change the subject to something less emotional. “Are you going to your mother’s or spending it at home?”

  “Neither. Gramps was invited to a friend’s house for the day, and Uncle Albert and I will be helping members of our church serve dinner at a senior center. It’s open to the entire community, but we’ve made a special outreach to those who might be alone or families struggling in this economy.”

  “That’s nice. I helped at a homeless shelter once on Christmas Day. In Reno. Some of the people who came to eat were a little scary, but most were just down on their luck.”

  “I suppose Hannah’s having a big Thanksgiving dinner with her family.”

  “No.” Grace shook her head and sighed. “I thought so, too. The community has chosen a day of prayer and fasting this year instead of the traditional feast. Not for the children, of course. And Hannah said I could fast or not as I wanted. It’s fine.” She forced a chuckle. “Every day is like Thanksgiving at the Yoder table.”

  But it wasn’t fine...not really. In her heart of hearts, she was disappointed. She expected this Thanksgiving to be like the ones she saw in magazines or on television. Amish-style, of course. Her throat tightened as she remembered the last Thanksgiving she and her mother had shared. There’d been takeout Chinese food in cardboard cartons, a guy named Vick who Trudie had met at a truck stop, a buddy of Vick’s and thay guy’s girlfriend. The adults had gotten into an argument, then a fistfight, and Grace had ended up hiding in a closet. What had hurt most was that her mother hadn’t even missed her, and when Grace finally crawled out of the dark, everyone, including Trudie, had left.

  “I’m going to fast with them,” she said determinedly. “It’s just from after supper tonight until tomorrow night. Then we’ll have bread and broth. I’m sure it will be a good experience.”

  “It is. It’s no
t something my church does often, but I’ve taken part in fasting before.” His gaze met hers. “Did you belong to a church? Before you came here, I mean? I hope you don’t mind my asking,” he added quickly.

  “Not a problem.” She gave a wave. “Trudie was never one for churchgoing. But my foster mother, the one with the dogs, never let us miss a Sunday. I got in the habit. I moved around a lot, but I liked to attend church whenever I could. I went to lots of different denominations, but I can’t say that I really belonged anywhere.”

  He hesitated and then backed the truck out of the lane onto the road. “I’d better get you home. They’ll be wondering where I am. My appointment, I mean.”

  “Yes,” she agreed.

  They rode the rest of the way to the Yoder drive in companionable quiet. As he turned into the dirt lane, John said, “Our church has an open invitation to visitors. We could use help serving tomorrow for Thanksgiving, and naturally, you’d be welcome at any worship service...if the Amish...”

  “Thank you,” she said, putting her hand on the door handle. She opened the door as the truck came to a stop, just yards from Hannah’s back gate. “I would love to help with the dinner, but I couldn’t leave Dakota on Thanksgiving Day.”

  “You could bring him,” John suggested, sounding disappointed. “The volunteers from our church always include their kids in our activities.”

  “I don’t think so, but thanks for offering.” She climbed out. “Thanks again for the ride home.” She didn’t look back until she got to the porch. He waved, and she waved back, then stamped her feet to get the snow off before she went into the house.

  “I’m home,” she called as she stepped into the warm kitchen. She didn’t see Dakota or any of the children, but Hannah, Aunt Jezzy, Johanna, Rebecca and Susanna were all there, gathered around the table. Hannah had been speaking, but she bit off her words in mid-sentence.

  Everyone looked at Grace.

  The nape of Grace’s neck prickled as thoughts of John flew out of her head. Hannah’s features strained with obvious distress. Not once—not even on the evening she and Dakota had arrived—had she felt so much discord in this room. “What is it?” Grace asked. “Are the children all right? Dakota—”

  “Fine.” Hannah’s voice was uncharacteristically tight. “Playing in the front parlor. Irwin is watching them.”

  Irwin? What had happened that none of them wanted the children to hear what they were discussing? And what was so important that Irwin would be pressed into babysitting while Grace’s sisters, including Susanna, were here? Grace studied the faces she’d come to know so well. Even Aunt Jezzy had traded her sweet smile for pursed lips and a troubled expression. “Have I done something?” Grace asked, afraid they had been waiting for her. Lying in wait even.

  “Ne.” Hannah shook her head. “Not at all.”

  “It’s private,” Johanna said. “Just family.”

  Grace shrugged off her coat and hung it on a hook. “I am family,” she said. Her knees felt weak, but she wouldn’t be dismissed so easily. “Whether you like it or not, little sister. I’m here and I care about you all. Anything that worries all of you concerns me.”

  “Ya,” Aunt Jezzy agreed. She motioned to the empty place beside her. “You see that look in her eyes, Hannah, my brother’s look.” She glanced at Johanna, speaking in English. “Shame on you. Now, more than ever, we must draw close together. And you cannot deny that she is your father’s child and your elder.”

  Johanna’s face flushed but she nodded. “I’m sorry, Grace,” she murmured. “I’m just upset.” She nodded toward their youngest sister. “It’s our Susanna. And David King.”

  Susanna? What could Susanna have done wrong? Grace wondered as she looked across the table at her youngest sister. Susanna’s cheeks were redder than Johanna’s, and her bottom lip protruded in a stubborn pout.

  “Aunt Jezzy found Susanna and David on the stairs,” Hannah explained. “Behaving in an inappropriate way.”

  Grace knew her eyes must have widened in surprise. Susanna and David King? What had they been doing that upset everyone? Susanna was Susanna, and David, although he was older, seemed even more of a child.

  “Making mischief.” Aunt Jezzy lifted her graying eyebrows. “The two of them.”

  “King David is not bad. He’s good.” Susanna’s eyes crinkled up. Her pout faded and her chin quivered. “I love him.”

  “No,” Hannah said gently. “David’s not bad. No one said that. Neither of you is bad.”

  Johanna slipped an arm around Susanna’s shoulder. “He’s not bad. Only unwise.”

  Hannah whispered to Grace behind her hand. “They were kissing.”

  But Susanna heard. “I did!” Susanna shouted. “I did kissed King David,” she said. “I love him.” She nodded vigorously. “King David and me.” Her mouth spread into a wide smile. “I kissed him because we’re getting married.”

  Chapter Ten

  “There will be no more kissing between you and David,” Hannah admonished, waggling her finger. “David is a friend, not family. We don’t kiss friends or strangers who are boys. And you aren’t old enough to get married.”

  “Am, too! Ada-Ann said so,” Susanna flung back. She threw up all ten fingers. “I had my birthday. I’m nineteen. And...and King David is...is...” She seemed to struggle with her thoughts for a moment. “He’s old!”

  “He’s twenty-three,” Johanna mouthed to Grace.

  “I know Ada-Ann is your friend,” Rebecca calmly told Susanna. “But she isn’t your mother. She doesn’t know everything. And Mam says you’re too young.”

  “But...I love King David.” Susanna giggled. “He kisses good.”

  “You were kissing David, Susanna?” Grace asked, more to calm the situation than to clarify. “On the cheek or on the lips?”

  Susanna patted her mouth with two fingers and giggled again.

  “You see,” Aunt Jezzy declared, throwing up her skinny arms. “She’s an innocent. Susanna isn’t even ashamed of it.”

  “She doesn’t understand,” Rebecca told Aunt Jezzy, “but she will if you explain it carefully.” She smiled at her younger sister. “Plain girls only kiss boys after they are married, Susanna.”

  “Irwin kissed a girl at Spence’s. Sunday.” Susanna bounced in her seat. “An Englisher girl. I saw him.”

  Grace tried not to laugh. If that were true, Irwin was in trouble. But it couldn’t have happened on Sunday because the auction was closed on Sundays. Susanna didn’t have a strong grasp of the order of the days of the week. When she related any incident, she always said it happened on Sunday.

  Hannah rolled her eyes. “If Irwin did kiss a girl, that was wrong. I’ll have a talk with him, but we’re not talking about Irwin right now, we’re talking about you, Susanna. You are not allowed to kiss David anymore.”

  “But...but we’re getting married,” Susanna insisted. “Sunday.”

  “Not this Sunday,” Grace soothed, rising from her chair to stroke her sister’s arm. She glanced at Hannah, who nodded approval, and then back to Susanna. “It takes a long time. First Bishop Atlee has to give his permission, then Mam and David’s parents.”

  “And bans have to be read for weeks at worship service,” Rebecca put in.

  Hannah looked up at the clock and clapped her hands together. “Goodness, look at the time.” She rose. “Girls, set the table. The children must be starving.”

  “But Mam...” Susanna whined. “I want—”

  “You heard Grace. It takes a long time to get married. Now be a good girl and get the knives and forks.” Hannah headed for the stove. “Johanna made ob’l dunkes kucka and that’s your favorite.”

  “Molasses shoo-fly cake!” Susanna clapped her hands. “King David likes cake!”

  * * *

  The Saturday
morning after Thanksgiving, Johanna and Grace sat at a table in the crowded dining area of Spence’s Bazaar, a bargain-sale, auction and Amish market, and watched as Rebecca bought Jonah and Dakota ice-cream cones. Katie had remained home with Ruth and Susanna, while the two little boys enjoyed an outing with their mothers and Aunt Rebecca.

  The boys loved going to Spence’s, and so did Grace. Here in the food building were Amish booths with all kinds of delicious foods, from Lancaster specialty cheeses to ham, bacon, sausage and all kinds of tasty deli meats. There were candies, jams and a bakery where the children could watch Amish girls with muscular arms, red cheeks and starched Kapps pull trays of fragrant yeast bread and cinnamon rolls hot from the oven.

  The air smelled of hamburgers, apple pie, pizza and gingerbread. Everywhere Amish and non-Amish chatted, ate and shopped, and the guttural Pennsylvania Dutch dialect was as commonly heard as English.

  Now that the children were away from the lunch table, Johanna picked up an earlier conversation concerning Susanna and David’s kissing incident. “Mam worries,” Johanna confided. “We’ve never expected to have anything like this happen with her. Susanna has always been such an easy child...a good girl.”

  “And she’s still a good girl,” Grace defended. “But she’s almost twenty. She may have a more difficult time learning than the rest of us, but in some ways, she’s a normal teenager.” She shrugged. “She must have the same thoughts and feelings as any young woman. Why does your mother treat her differently than she does Rebecca?”

  Johanna’s mouth firmed. “Because she is different.”

  “Yes, Susanna is different.” Grace nodded. “For me, not because she was born with Down’s, but because she was the first one to accept Dakota and me. She has such a pure heart.”

  “I agree with you that our little sister is one of God’s special children,” Johanna replied, “but realistically, Susanna has limits. One of us will always have to care for her. It’s not a burden. We love Susanna, but we know what must be. And she can’t go around kissing boys because she likes the way it feels.”