The Telling

by Beverly Lewis

  How will I work on my thesis here with such cuties around? she wondered while Sally washed dishes. Suddenly Heather realized she’d already lost track of the talkative miniature Sally.

  Stifling a laugh, she headed out to the soap and sundries boutique on the back porch. There she found the blondie reaching for some sweet-smelling potpourri.

  “No, honey,” she said, lifting her up.

  “Nee?” little Sally asked in Heather’s ear. She was so soft and cuddly, Heather was actually reluctant to set her down on the floor next to baby Esther. Holding the precious child close for a moment longer, she felt like crying.

  My first mother missed out on everything about me!

  After supper dishes were done, Lettie walked out to the barn. She’d come to see all the feeder lambs her husband had pegged for market in mid-September. She found him and the boys in the process of checking for any winged parasites. Due to their restlessness and lack of appetite, afflicted sheep were easy to spot.

  “How’s our Willow today?” Lettie moved in the direction of the elderly mare’s stall, surprised when Judah followed. Since she’d come home, he was more attentive than she’d ever remembered, even back when they were newly married.

  The earthy smell of the bedding straw and feed was familiar and even comforting as she and Judah stood stroking Willow’s mane and nose.

  “A gut thing you were spared seein’ her so bad off.” Judah told how Ephram Bontrager’s boy Yonnie had helped the rest of them nurse her back to health.

  “You had a real fright, then.”

  Judah nodded and rubbed Willow’s shoulder. “You’re mighty treasured, old girl.”

  They stayed with the mare for a while, and Judah said he was going to allow Willow to spend a few hours at a time in the pasture each day. “Now that her buggy-pulling days are most likely past.”

  Lettie was quiet for a bit, then mentioned being concerned for her father. “Seems he’s gone downhill some.”

  “Jakob became feeble while you were gone.” He bowed his head. “None of us did so gut without ya, Lettie.”

  She reached for his hand. “I’m so sorry, Judah. Every single day I am.”

  “All’s forgiven,” he whispered.

  “That night you left me to go help with Adam – my last night home,” she said, swallowing the lump in her throat. “What if I had managed to say what was on my heart? Would you have understood then – shown me mercy – as now?”

  He slipped his arm around her as Willow nuzzled her shoulder. “How can anyone know what they’d say or do, Lettie?”

  “Jah, ain’t fair to ask.”

  Judah nodded his head. “Might’ve spared us the pain of your goin’, though,” he admitted.

  Willow pushed her nose against Judah’s straw hat, knocking it off. This brought a chuckle and – “Now, you watch it, ol’ girl!” from her husband, who suddenly looked ever so lively, all but his flattened hair.

  Lettie picked up his old work hat and gave it to him.

  Judah planted it on his head and glanced over his shoulder, looking back at the sheep barn. Then he leaned over and kissed her full on the lips. “God answered my prayers for you, Lettie.”

  The evening sun broke through the rain clouds at that moment, creating a streaming shaft of light over the house and property. Was it an omen of good things to come?

  thirty-four

  Heather stood outside Adah’s on Friday morning, watching the red-throated hummingbirds at the various feeders. She waited there with Adah for Sally Smucker to arrive, since the preacher’s wife had insisted on coming later by horse and buggy.

  Presently, she noticed one of the hummingbirds flying in an aerobatic U-shaped pattern. “Look at that!” She pointed out its sharp ascent, then the dive straight down.

  “’Tis a mating ritual,” Adah explained. “If ya listen close, ya might hear some buzzing and popping sounds, too... sometimes even whistlin’.”

  “I’ve never noticed this before,” Heather replied.

  “Well, the expert on hummers is my daughter Lettie... and she’ll be comin’ over soon to help make jam.”

  Grace’s mom – the woman who caused Grace and her family so much sorrow. “You know, I saw a list of bird sightings she made while staying in Baltic. Lettie must be a serious bird-watcher.”

  Adah laughed softly. “Oh, I should say so. We Eshes all are.”

  A few minutes later, a plump but pretty girl stepped out from the opposite side of the house, looking fresh in a blue cape dress and matching apron. Her strawberry blond hair was combed neatly into a bun, but instead of the traditional Kapp, she wore a blue-and-white-checked kerchief tied behind her head. “You must be Heather,” the girl said, her smile revealing deep dimples.

  “And you’re Mandy, right?”

  “Jah, Grace’s sister.”

  “Very nice to meet you.” Heather mentioned that Grace had talked about introducing them a couple weeks ago, when she’d first given her a tour of the herb garden. Heather bobbed her head toward the colorful plot beyond the backyard.

  “Grace felt awful bad that she had to work today,” Mandy said. “She really wanted to be here.”

  Heather didn’t let on to having seen Grace each of the ten days she’d spent at the lodge.

  Just then, Adah suggested they head inside to begin washing the freshly picked strawberries. Heather was glad to sit down as Adah showed her how to rinse off the berries and instructed her to set aside those that had any mushy spots. “All right?”

  Heather laughed. “Nothing to it, jah?”

  Adah gave a hearty chuckle as Heather reached into the big pail and gently pulled out her first batch. She enjoyed the feel of the strawberries, some of them still slightly warm.

  In a short time, Marian Riehl arrived from across the cow pasture. When she noticed Heather, she greeted her warmly. “Well, hullo there! Good seein’ you again, Heather.”

  “You too.” She smiled, remembering how she’d arrived in this neighborhood as a complete stranger.

  Marian pulled out a chair and sat across from her, then got right to work trimming off the stems. She, too, had worn a blue cape dress and apron in the exact style of Mandy’s.

  After a time, Marian leaned forward and said, “You doin’ all right, Heather?”

  “Better than last week, thanks,” Heather replied, grateful to be on this side of her cleanse.

  Soon thereafter, Sally Smucker arrived by horse and buggy and hurried inside to greet everyone. She clapped her hands when she spied Heather. “This’ll be such fun, ain’t?”

  Marian’s eyes shone. “Heather’s learnin’ how to make jam.”

  “I daresay she’s come to the right house!” Adah declared.

  Heather watched Sally get busy preparing the fruit pectin and natural sweeteners for those who wanted to use them instead of what she explained was the typical refined sugar. So diligent about her strict diet. Will I be the same for the long haul?

  Hearing footsteps in the hallway, she looked up to see Adah welcoming Grace’s mother into the kitchen. This is the elusive woman!

  Lettie Byler was plumper than she’d expected and bore a strong resemblance to Mandy. Lettie wore an engaging smile as she breezed into the room, greeting everyone at the table just as Sally Smucker had, going around and touching shoulders... pecking cheeks.

  Adah motioned to Heather. “I’d like you to meet my daughter, Lettie Byler.” Adah turned back to Lettie. “And, Lettie, this is Heather Nelson, Gracie’s friend.”

  “Hullo.” Lettie offered a somewhat shy smile.

  “Glad to meet you.” Heather could’ve added finally , but that wouldn’t be appropriate. Lettie’s blue eyes were captivating – stunningly so. They drew Heather in... made her want to know this mysterious woman. She wondered if others had the same reaction when first meeting her. “It must be nice to be home,” Heather said without thinking.

  “Surely is.” Lettie smiled again and cast a careful look her way, as if curious
about Grace’s fancy friend.

  She’s not too thrilled with me – worried I’m a bad influence on her daughter.

  She gulped, remembering she’d worn her denim capris. Thankfully they were well hidden beneath the table. Groaning inwardly, she thought, What was I thinking?

  “Lettie, why don’t you sit next to Heather?” Adah suggested, moving with Lettie toward Heather’s side of the table. “We’re nearly ready to remove any of the rotten or mushy spots. Marian’s already cutting out the stems.”

  Heather figured the perfunctory explanation was for her benefit, since everyone else knew the ropes. I’m the newcomer here .

  While she worked, it was hard not to observe the uncomplicated surroundings, so reminiscent of Marian’s own kitchen, where Heather had enjoyed numerous rich breakfasts. A lot like Sally’s, too. She wondered if every Amishwoman in the area had a similar setup.

  She surveyed the shining Ball jars lined up on the counter behind them. The women were all chattering now – like manicurists at a nail salon, she thought wryly.

  This, then, was the life she’d never lived. These devout and talkative women, with upswept and veiled hair, picking the firmest red berries out of the pails for pies and strawberry shortcake, setting them aside – had no idea she, too, could very well have been raised Plain.

  My birth mother must’ve panicked when she discovered she was pregnant with me. Would it unnerve her to meet me now?

  Working beside her friends and family to fill the canning jars with the boiled strawberries, Adah felt all on edge. She stood at the gas stove, waiting for the water to heat for the strawberries, and recalled Grace’s strange declaration last Saturday. To think Heather had been adopted from an Amish mother... and had the same birthdate as Lettie’s first child!

  She observed Lettie sitting next to Heather, mesmerized by the sight. Could it be?

  She found herself staring at Heather, noticing the heart-shaped face. Who in the family, or amongst the People, had such a pronounced widow’s peak?

  No one that I know of, she was certain, resuming her attention to adding more sugar to the next batch of boiling berries. In hardly any time at all, or so it seemed in the midst of her musing, the kettle of water came to a rolling boil.

  Plenty of folks share the same birthday. Adah dismissed her thoughts as utterly ridiculous. Surely Heather could not be Lettie’s child. Besides, Grace said her birth mother was an Ohio girl!

  Friday, June 6

  I helped put up strawberry jam today with one of the most entertaining women I’ve ever met. Adah Esh, Grace Byler’s maternal grandmother, is a wealth of knowledge about anything kitchen related, and it was fun to be there with so many Amishwomen, all of them delighted to show me the ropes of jam making. Thanks to Sally’s more healthful modifications, I might give it a try someday. What would Dad say to that?

  I wonder what he’ll say when I tell him I sent in the paper work yesterday to request information on my birth parents. I second-guessed the idea, wondering if I was merely considering a search because of the real possibility that I might die soon.

  But now I realize I was wrong about my motivation: It wasn’t only the fear of dying without knowing her that compelled me to think of contacting the Ohio Adoption Registry. It’s about far more than that.

  Maybe it’s seeing that Dad may have someone to love. Or maybe it’s being among these lovely people, so ready to open their hearts and give of themselves. The lack of pretense is refreshing, and I can’t help but wonder if my birth mom is anything like them. Oh, I hope so!

  Well, I’ve sent in my request... now to see what comes of it.

  Immediately following breakfast on Saturday, Adah Esh and Sally Smucker’s older sisters showed up with mops and buckets and dustcloths – a veritable bunch of housekeepers. Heather had never seen walls being swept down or washed that way. Humming and chattering abounded, as though the enormous chore was merely a game. Even young Katie joined in the fun, grabbing a rag and taking her place next to her aunts.

  “We view work as play,” Sally explained later in the morning when she helped Heather put little Sally and baby Esther down for a nap. “Not ‘we’ll play once the chores are done.’”

  “Like Englischers say,” Sally’s oldest sister, Ruthanne, observed, then clapped her hand over her mouth, looking with wide, embarrassed eyes at Heather. “Ach, I almost forgot...”

  Heather was not at all offended. She laughed merrily, and soon both Sally and Ruthanne joined in.

  Later, little Sally and Esther were sound asleep in their small bedroom when Heather checked on them. When she turned to leave, she nearly bumped into Adah in the hallway.

  “Can we talk privately?” Adah’s eyes probed Heather’s.

  She wondered why but said, “Sure... where?”

  Adah motioned to a vacant bedroom at the far end of the hall. “We’re finished cleaning up here,” she said, leading the way. Adah closed the door with a click behind them, then walked to the window and turned to face her.

  Heather had the distinct impression that whatever was on Adah’s mind was an uncomfortable topic, because the older woman wore a sudden grimace. “Are you all right?” she asked from where she stood near the foot of the bed.

  “Well... I’m not sure.” Adah sighed, her bosom rising and falling. “What I have to say may upset you, but that’s certainly not my intention.”

  “Okay.” Heather wondered if it had been such a good idea to let Adah corner her in this way.

  “Grace says you were born to a young Amishwoman in Ohio.” Her eyes held Heather’s. “Is that right?”

  “That’s what my father told me, and I hope to know more about it very soon.” She told Adah about sending in the form to obtain the court-sealed information regarding her adoption. “I felt a need to meet my biological parents – particularly my mother – before I die.” She laughed softly. “Of course, I do hope to stick around a lot longer.”

  Now it was Adah who looked shaken. “Ach, but Dr. Marshall seems to have helped many patients.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard that.”

  “Let’s pray you’re one of them....”

  Heather made an attempt to explain how she had felt as if she were dying during her cleanse. “It was then I became literally consumed with getting in touch with my birth mom, wherever she is.”

  Adah’s eyes were solemn and downcast as she nodded. “I hope you do live to meet her. In fact, I hope you live to a ripe old age, Heather dear.”

  “Thank you. You’re very kind.”

  “I don’t know ’bout that.” Adah looked out the window without saying more for a time. Then, almost as though reluctantly, she asked, “Do you happen to know the name of the place in Ohio where you were born?”

  There was a sad, almost lost expression on the woman’s wrinkled face, and Heather wondered why she was asking.

  At that moment, there was a knock and the door cracked open. Grace peeked in. “So sorry... I just got here and was lookin’ for ya, Mammi.” She smiled instantly when her eyes caught Heather’s. “You want this door closed again?”

  “Nee... no, that’s all right.” Adah removed a handkerchief from beneath her sleeve and fanned her too-rosy face. “I must be ferhoodled,” she muttered. “Wishful thinkin’.”

  “Sorry?” Heather said.

  “Nothin’.” Adah motioned for her to go on ahead with Grace. “Let’s see what Sally wants done yet for Preaching tomorrow.” The woman’s eyes looked dazed.

  Heather walked down the hall with Grace and stopped to peek in again at the youngest Smucker girls. When she saw they were still sleeping, she gently closed the door and joined Grace on the stairs.

  thirty-five

  E s schwere Deel – the main sermon – was longer than customary that Preaching Sunday. Lettie sat between Grace and Mandy on the women’s and children’s side of Preacher Josiah’s front room for the three-and-a-half-hour service. She folded her trembling hands and looked over at Judah, Adam, and Joe, si
tting together in a row with her father and Andy Riehl and his teenage sons. Breathing a prayer for peace, she silently called upon the name of the Lord.

  More people had crowded into the house of worship than was typical. Or was she imagining this because she felt so ill at ease? The ministers had already discussed the gravity of her sins with her in private, preceding the start of the service today. The bishop had been the one to lay out the situation: Since she’d offered to own up to her wrongdoings publicly, without being approached by the ministers first, the only thing left – apart from the confession itself – was the vote of the People. They alone would decide whether or not to accept her back into the membership. This would follow directly after Lettie’s admission of sin.

  She clenched her teeth as she contemplated her name being called out by the bishop for the hearing less than one hour from now. After her confession, she would rise to walk the long aisle that separated the men and teenage boys from the women and children, making her way slowly and reverently toward the back of the house. She would be expected to wait prayerfully outdoors for the verdict. If the membership agreed not to shun her for the sins of her youth, as well as her more recent transgression in abandoning her family, then she would not be excommunicated.

  Lord, you alone know my heart fully....

  Her breath caught in her throat, and Lettie pressed her hand to her lips.

  Gelassenheit, she thought. She must embrace an attitude of submission, just as she had been taught: giving up her will to God first, the ministerial brethren second, then down the order of command to her father, husband, and older brothers. The length of the worship service alone pointed to the importance of the act of waiting, of the need for meekness and unity and compliance evidenced each time the People gathered. Such was the age-old reenactment of surrender required by the revered ordinance.