Smicksburg Tales 1,2 & 3 (Amish Knitting Circle, Amish Friends Knitting Circle & Amish Knit Lit Cirlce ~ Complete Series: 888 pages for Granny Weaver Lovers and 30+ Amish Recipes

by Karen Anna Vogel

  She heard the kettle whistle and sighed. The sweetest moment of the day was her afternoon tea, when all was quiet. She made her way over to the assortment of teas she kept in a little basket. Chamomile soothed her nerves. She plopped the bag into a mug of hot water and sat down again at the window. She took a sip and closed her eyes. Ruth soon heard a buggy come up the driveway. Maybe her mamm had come to visit. She heard loud footsteps and turned to see Luke come in the side door.

  “Ach, so this is what you do all day. Sip tea and watch your bird friends?”

  Ruth pursed her lips, willing them to stay shut. She saw fire in her husband’s eyes. Why was he home? She looked in horror as he walked across her linoleum kitchen floor with his work boots on. Muddy footprints followed. She could hear her heart throb in her ears. He walked over and threw a card in her lap. She froze as he drew closer. “Time to sip tea but always too tired to tend to my needs.”

  She shivered. He acted like a wild animal at times. She felt his sweaty hand pull at her prayer kapp. He slid it down to the back of her neck and roughly pulled the strings. Ruth smelled his foul breath as he drew closer, and could remain silent no more. “Wash up and then approach me.”

  She felt his fingers dig into her arms as he pulled her out of the chair and started to jerk her. Ruth said no last night, but she was tired. Was this his way of making her pay? The pain in her arms increased and she screamed. Soon she heard Micah crying upstairs. She felt Luke release her and she collapsed into her chair. Through her sobs she heard the side door slam shut. She leaned over, feeling nausea wash over her. Through blurry eyes she saw a card on the floor. It had red roses on it. It was from Granny. She picked up the letter, held it to her chest, and wept.

  Lizzie

  Lizzie took a scoop of dried peas and put them in the bowl at the top of the scale. One pound exactly. She slid them into a plastic bag and took a white sticker and a black pen to write the label, then stuck it on the bag. She looked over at her daed who was struggling to put cornflakes on one of the wooden shelves that lined their little food co-op. A box fell but he didn’t lose time in retrieving it. He took his right arm crutch and pushed the box against his leg and inched it up his side, and grabbed it.

  She admired his stubborn persistence. The way he got himself into their buggy took longer, but he’d never let anyone help. When he was told he’d never have his own chicken business, it only made him try harder. With the click of a generator button, all the water and feed were pumped in to his beloved hens. Collecting eggs was a bit tricky, so he hired the neighbor boy.

  She thought of Fannie’s recent visit. “Daed, I don’t think Fannie’s fat, do you?”

  “Nee, she’s just got a round face, but she’s a mighty pretty girl. Those big green eyes will catch her a husband soon.”

  “She’s always talking about how fat she is and makes fun of herself. I don’t think she realizes she’s turning them away.”

  “What about you, Lizzie? What do you do to turn Roman away?”

  His bluntness shocked her. Yes, Roman came over more than he needed, sometimes buying only one item, although he did have a weakness for her whoopee pies. She put the box full of bagged dried peas in their place and went back to the scale to measure oatmeal.

  “Lizzie. Roman is a goot man. Why not talk to him more when he comes in? I think he’s here to see you.”

  “He made his choice long ago.” She shoved oatmeal in a plastic bag.

  “Nee, you made it for him. You postponed your marriage and he met Abigail. That man liked you since you were both in diapers. How long did you expect him to wait? And for what?”

  She rubbed her temples, feeling tension starting to mount. “You needed me after mamm passed on.”

  “But it still doesn’t make sense to me. If you’d wed Roman years ago, you could have built a dawdyhaus for me attached to the main house. We’d still be together.”

  She saw him make his way over to her, and she sheepishly looked across the scale and met his dark black eyes. “You were so sad about mamm, I didn’t think it was time for anything to change.”

  Jonas’ eyes misted. “Oh, Lizzie, is that the truth?”

  “Jah, but it’s not your fault. Roman didn’t love me enough to wait.” She came from around the corner and kissed her daed on the cheek. “We both came though the fire though, jah?”

  “The house fire was before you mamm’s death.”

  “Ach, I mean the fiery trials the Bible talks about.”

  Jonas winked at his daughter. “I get these trials mixed up.”

  She heard a car honk. It was the mailman with a package too big to put in the mailbox. “I’ll get it.” She ran barefoot out the door a short distance to the road to collect their package and mail. She looked at the box; more coloring books for the store. She leafed through the mail and saw a floral envelope. Lizzie sniffed the envelope. No scent? Granny usually rubbed a rose petal on her stationary. She opened it and read about the knitting circle and instantly felt heat rise into her cheeks. She’d see Roman once a week if she went. How would she tell Granny she couldn’t go?

  ~*~

  Granny enjoyed sitting on the porch swing with Jeb to wind down the day. She looked out over the vast field of golden rod then at the shades of pink across the evening sky. She took Jeb’s hand. “I appreciate you letting us take up the house every Wednesday night. What will you do tomorrow?”

  He pulled at his lengthy gray beard. “Well, most likely go to Roman’s and play with the girls. Think I’ll go over to Millers and buy some coloring books and crayons.”

  “Let Roman do it.”

  “Deborah, you need to stop sending that boy over there. You and your whoopee pie cravings. You’re not kidding anyone. You make them better than Lizzie.”

  “I don’t have the time with all this wool. Two sheep would have been enough. Six is too many. Ach, I can’t keep up.”

  She felt her husband’s eyes on her, needing a confession. She looked at him evenly, and then tried to hide her grin. “You know me well, old man. Why can’t Roman see he still cares for Lizzie?”

  “Maybe he doesn’t, that’s why. Maybe he has his eye on someone else.”

  ”Like who?”

  “Well, he does say he stops by and chats with Fannie on the way back from Millers.”

  She’s only twenty-one. He’s thirty-two. Ach, your mind’s gone mad.”

  “Fannie’s a pretty girl and single. Not been seen in any courting buggy. Why not?”

  She crossed her arms. “Roman and Lizzie courted before he met Abigail, and he needs a wife who’s mature. And because I’ve been planning his wedding to Lizzie since he was a kinner.”

  “He chose Abigail. You aren’t regretting that, are you?”

  “Course not. I loved her like my own. I’ve just known Lizzie since birth, and watching those two together, so much in love, they sure got my hopes up. They still look at each other in that special way…at church.”

  “He most likely can’t even see her. He’s on the men’s side.”

  They both listened to the chain on the porch swing squeak. A ruby throated hummingbird came and perched on the red feeder hung from the porch rafter. The wind whipped and she took her shawl and pulled it over her shoulders. She felt her husband’s arm around her. “Anyhow, even if Roman was looking over Lizzie’s way, maybe it was Fannie he was eying.”

  She hit his knee. “Quit that teasing of yours. I sit in the back and it has its advantages. When all the weddings were announced last week, it was no surprise to me, the way those young loves glance over at each other.”

  Granny heard tiny footsteps come up the stairs that led to the front of the house. Soon the girls came around the corner. She was glad the swing was on the side of the house opposite Roman’s. They needed privacy.

  “Opa, can you tell us a story?” Millie asked. “The one about the deer by the pond?”

  She got off the swing and let the kinner sit with Jeb. Another nightly ritual a good wife for R
oman would be doing. She took a deep breath and looked out at the forest beyond the pond. Crimson and yellow leaves swirled off the trees as the wind picked up. Lord, help Roman see he needs Lizzie.

  ~*~

  The next day, Granny wiped down the cedar bench Roman and Jeb brought in from the porch. She put four rockers in a semi-circle across from it. “If all the women show up, we have plenty of room.” She looked over at Roman and searched his tender brown eyes. “What’s wrong, son?”

  “Abby went to a knitting circle out in Volant, when she was in her teens. She talked about it often.”

  She took a break and sat in a rocker. “Sit down, Roman.”

  “Mamm, I don’t mean to sound short, but don’t need another talk. I know it’s been three years and I should move on.”

  “Then what’s keeping you? Abigail would want you to be happy.”

  “I am. Just haven’t met a girl I love like Abby, is all.”

  “What do you think of Fannie?”

  His eyebrows furrowed. “She’s a nice girl. Easy to talk to. Why?”

  “Your daed thinks you have eyes for her. Is that true?”

  He leaned over and pulled his chin. “Haven’t thought of her…I’m so much older.”

  She felt her mouth grow dry. “What about Lizzie?”

  “Ach, she’s always too busy to talk when I see her at the store.” He stood up, took off his straw hat and ran his fingers through his hair. “Mamm, the cow needs milked. I gotta run.”

  She gripped both sides of her rocker tight. She nodded and he headed out the door. Why was Lizzie acting this way?

  She got up to take the cinnamon flop out of the oven. She’d made three pie plates full. She heard voices on the front porch. It was Roman talking to a woman. Granny went over to the window to see him smiling at Fannie. Scooting behind the white tie-back curtains, she continued to watch. Fannie’s was glowing like never before. She studied her son. He was yapping up a storm. How odd! Lizzie came out of the big farmhouse, the girls circling around her as they chatted. When they got to her front steps, Roman ignored them, absorbed in his conversation with Fannie. What on earth?

  The Circle Begins

  Granny hurried to get the cinnamon flop out of the oven as she welcomed Fannie and Lizzie. They both brought apple pies. “We’ll need to do hard labor on Thursdays after eating so much here on Wednesday.”

  “No amount of labor will take off these pounds,” Fannie sighed.

  Lizzie rolled her eyes. “You’re not even heavy. Sometimes I wish we had those big long mirrors so you could really see yourself. Our little ones just show our faces.”

  Fannie put both hands in the air. “I see my face in my mirror. It’s fat.”

  Granny cleared her throat. “When you go to Punxsy-Mart, take a look at yourself in one of their mirrors. You’ll see you’re trim.”

  Fannie went over to hug Granny. “You’re always making me feel better about myself.”

  Granny took Fannie by the waist and squeezed. “I can almost get my hands around your middle. I don’t flatter to make you feel better. That’s deceitful. You’re just plain not fat.” She looked over Fannie’s shoulder to see Ella and Becca come in. “Becca, where’s your mamm?”

  “She’s sends her love but feels too tired to come. It’s okay I came, right?”

  Granny took the raisin pie from Becca and the pumpkin pie from Ella. “Of course you’re welcome to come. Maybe in a few weeks your mamm can join us too.”

  Ella shifted her weight. “I stopped by Ruth’s to see if she needed a ride. Luke came out and said he wouldn’t have it.”

  Granny stomped her foot. “I’ll have him. The girl is too cooped up and looks depressed.”

  Ella’s eyes misted. “I saw Ruth peeking out the window, like a caged bird. The fire in Luke’s eyes scared me.”

  “I agree,” Becca said. “He looked at us like a rabid raccoon.”

  “I’ll go sit on him,” laughed Fannie. “I’ll straighten him out. Leave it to me.”

  Granny put a hand up. “Let’s sit down.”

  The five women took seats and Granny folded her hands in her lap. “We’re here to knit, not gossip, but are you serious about Luke?” She turned to Ella. “I’ve heard other people talk.”

  Ella bowed her head. “Maybe I’m afraid of Luke because…he’s Zach’s brother and my husband…knows more. We both know more.”

  Silence echoed around the room as the ladies stared at Ella. “Like what?” Lizzie asked.

  Ella fidgeted with her white prayer cap strings. “Maybe I’ve said too much. Let me talk to my husband and he can talk to Luke. Make him realize his wife needs to get out with friends more.”

  “Sounds like a good idea,” Granny said. “Now, next week, we need to decide who’s bringing dessert. We have too much for one night…” Her jaw dropped when she saw Roman enter the house. “What’s wrong? Are the girl’s, okay?”

  “They’re fine, Mamm. Just came in to see if you’d like some apple cider. The girls said they’d come over with some if you’d like.” He looked over at Fannie and grinned.

  Granny furrowed her brows. She was known for her hospitality. Did her son think she was daft?

  “I’ll help the girls bring the cider over,” Fannie said. She jumped out of her chair and joined Roman at the door. “We’ll be right back. Need to get to that knitting we came here for in the first place.”

  Granny slouched and discouragement overtook her. What was going on between Roman and Fannie? She looked over at Lizzie who was clearly hurt by the attention Fannie was getting compared to the way Roman ignored her. Granny’s hopes were unraveling concerning those two. Would she ever see them wed?

  ~*~

  Here is the first recipe my Amish friends in New York gave me. As a mother of 4 preschoolers, long ago, I needed a quick and easy dessert. They said cinnamon flop was my answer. I call it the lazy way of making cinnamon rolls. They taste the same but made in no time. Little hands love to poke the dough too….

  Cinnamon Flop

  3 tablespoons melted butter or margarine

  1 1/2 cups sugar

  2 eggs, well beaten

  2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

  2 teaspoons baking powder

  1 cup milk

  1 cup light brown sugar

  1/4 cup butter

  Cinnamon

  Directions

  Cream butter with sugar.

  Beat in eggs.

  Sift flour with baking powder and add alternately with the milk.

  Pour into well-buttered 9-inch pie plate.

  Sprinkle top with brown sugar, dot with butter, and sprinkle with lots of ground cinnamon.

  Bake in preheated hot oven (375° F.) for approximately 30 minutes.

  Enjoy!

  Episode 2

  Wedding Season

  Roman put another log in the black cast-iron stove, and then grabbed The Budget to read while having his morning coffee. He dreaded the November edition, just like he did last year; wedding announcements published across the country. He thought of his Abby, and how she cut out the clipping of their engagement and taped it in her scrapbook. He knew it was still in her hope chest, but he couldn’t look in it, even after three years. Roman wasn’t afraid of remembering her, his precious bride, but how he’d never asked her forgiveness. On their wedding day, half his heart still belonged to Lizzie. He loved two women on that sacred day, Lord help him.

  He chugged down some coffee and took a bite of raisin crumb pie, his favorite breakfast food. His mind wandered to the day Lizzie told him they needed to postpone their wedding. Her big brown eyes didn’t beg him to understand; she just evenly said her daed’s MS was flaring up. It was like being splashed with cold water on a winter day. Lizzie expressed little emotion.

  Roman remembered showing her the blueprints for a dawdyhaus to be built next to his parents. She said her daed needed to be in his own house, where he was comfortable. He knew Jonas, his soon to be father-in-law, was looking
forward to sharing a fishing hole with his daed. When Lizzie dug in her heels and refused to move, Roman even agreed to let one of his brothers have the family house and live in Lizzie’s and have an attached dawdyhaus for Jonas.

  It didn’t make sense. Nothing he proposed was acceptable to her, so she postponed the wedding. Why was Lizzie so stubborn? Heat rose into his face. Why did Lizzie still bother him? When he saw her he still blushed like he did in sixth grade, when he first started to like her. He ran his fingers through his chestnut brown hair. Why did such foolish ideas flood his mind?

  Roman heard little footsteps coming down the steps.

  “Guder mariyer, Daed,” Jenny said as she ran over to hug his neck. She was a picture of Abby and behaved like her too, full of life and love.

  “Guder mariyer, Honey Bear. I don’t hear the twins.”

  “I felt Tillie’s head and she’s warm. Millie said her head hurts.”

  “Ach, it could be allergies to the golden rod.”

  Jenny pursed her lips. “We need to tell Oma. She’ll know what to do.”

  “Nee, she’s gone. Went to help clean up after the Byler wedding. Tonight she has that knitting circle of hers.” Roman stood up while shoving the last piece of pie in his mouth. “Go tell Opa to come over. I’ll get some medicine at Miller’s Variety.”

  “Ask Lizzie what to do. She’s a woman.”

  Roman groaned inwardly, not wanting to talk to Lizzie. He looked with pride at his daughter though. She was as level-headed as Abby.

  ~*~

  Granny Weaver arched her back and cracked her neck. So much cleaning up after a wedding, but she was so happy for Noah and Annie. She looked over at the newlyweds as they pitched in to help. What love in their eyes. She looked across the kitchen at Fannie, still drying dishes. Did she see tears falling or was water splashing? She walked over to take a look. Tears ran from Fannie’s beautiful green eyes.

  “Ach, what’s wrong?” Granny hugged her from the side.

  “Happy for Noah and Annie, is all.” She sniffed. “My cousin married a goot man. Noah adores her.”