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

  “Colleen’s upset. Wants to talk, private like.”

  “I can go…”

  “No, that’s alright,” Colleen said as she brushed away a tear, attempting a smile. “This is your home.”

  Granny put her hand on Jeb’s shoulder. “Maybe you can help, jah?”

  Jeb looked warmly at Colleen. “What ails you?”

  Colleen sniffed and put a Kleenex to her nose. “I was embarrassed. Granny saw my scars.” She held out her arms, wrists up. “I’m a cutter, but getting help.”

  “A cutter?” Jeb asked, softly. “What’s that?”

  “People who cut themselves on purpose. For me, it’s a way of crying. When I feel numb and can’t cry, I cut myself and for some odd reason, I feel better.”

  Jeb took her hands. “But doesn’t it hurt?”

  “Yes. That’s the point. When I feel numb, it’s scary. I don’t feel human, but when I feel pain, I do.”

  Granny went over and embraced Colleen. “Child, if you feel numb, why not talk to someone? I do…”

  “You feel numb sometimes, too?”

  “We all do,” Jeb said. “And you’re right, it is scary. Especially if you’re old and you fear your mind’s going.”

  Colleen kissed Granny on the cheek. “You are so easy to open up to. I’ve talked to Jerry and Janice about these numb spells, but it took a while. It’s when the healing started…”

  “So Jerry’s helping you?” Jeb asked.

  “Yes. And a girlfriend at Forget-Me-Not. She knows about it. When I feel the urge to cut, I tell someone.”

  “And they make you stop?” Granny asked.

  “They talk to me until I don’t feel numb and can cry…I can cry now. I’ve come a long way.”

  Jeb squeezed her hands. “Well, now you have two other people to talk to. Do you think if we met once a week, and you shared all the pain bottled up, it would help?”

  “And we could make pies,” Granny offered, embracing Colleen again.

  Colleen started to laugh and cry at the same time. “If I spend too much time at Ella’s and with you, maybe I’ll turn Amish…”

  Granny looked at Jeb, eyes aglow.

  ~*~

  That night, Granny took her pink yarn and needles out on the porch, along with an oil lamp. A full moon made it easier to see, but she needed the added light. The scent of roses filled the air and the nightingale sang. She closed her eyes and listened to all the melodies this bird sang. She thought of her girls. They all sang a different song too. Ella a sad and tired song. Though she worked hard to make ends meet, it seemed inevitable that Zach would want to buy land in New York when they visited next week. A sob got caught in her throat, and Granny swallowed it down. How she loved Ella…

  And her Nathan moving back to Montana temporarily? Sometimes temporary meant permanent. Granny groaned. Just when she began to accept Lavina and feel she’d be a goot match for Nathan. Why Lord? Was there trouble in Montana her son wasn’t telling her about?

  She took up her needles and began to knit. Doing all knit stitches without trying to figure out how to do a purl made the scarf grow faster. Some little girl, homeless in the USA, could certainly use it as a hat too. Colleen’s little one would be homeless if it wasn’t for the Baptists opening up a house of refuge. Colleen’s scars on her arms ran through her mind and pierced her heart. Hopefully, the more she talked about her feelings as they baked pies and whatnot, she’d never cut herself again.

  This Sunday church would be at Roman’s, and the announcement of the church district splitting would be announced. Most likely the women would come on her porch and shed tears, and the men would solemnly encourage Jeb with the heavy burden of being a bishop. Granny thought of Fannie as usual. She was like a mamm to this dear girl. When Fannie stayed after knitting circle to talk to her, she admitted to trying to diet. Lord, why is Fannie relapsing into her old way of thinking?

  Feeling overwhelmed, she bowed her head to say more casting off prayers:

  Lord,

  Thank you that you hear me when I pray. It’s a comfort to know you never change. Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow, like the Good Book says.

  I’m afraid, Lord, and I give my fear to you. You make me strong in my weak areas. I don’t want to be the bishop’s wife, but Jeb has drawn the lot. Truth be told, I don’t feel worthy. Jeb, he’s worthy, but who am I? An old woman who sits out in her rocker at 2:00 a.m. fretting and not trusting you. I’m sorry Lord. Why can’t I see you have everything in control? Jeb seems to have a keen understanding of it. Help me see as Jeb sees.

  And Lord, as more women come to knitting circle, more problems come too. Was this your higher purpose? Not so much the knitting as helping each other? I did think women would be stronger spun together, but Lord I need more wisdom to help the girls. Lord, I’ve never heard of anyone intentionally cutting themselves and I don’t know what to say. Could just listening make that much of a difference? And what do I say to Fannie? Lord, she needs to listen to her body and eat.

  Maybe it’s You who needs to speak in the gentle whisper. Lord, please whisper to all my girls how much you care. Give them direction. Lead them by still waters and feed your sheep green grass. You know I love them so…

  I cast them all on You in Jesus’ name,

  Amen

  Dear Readers,

  Thank you for joining Granny as her knitting circle increases. I leave you with a recipe for Thumbprint Cookies, in case you get company and have nothing to serve, just like Granny. These cookies can be stored in airtight containers or frozen with no jam filling. Simply add jam to imprint and heat in oven for a few minutes.

  Thumbprint Cookies

  1/2 c. butter

  1/2 c. shortening

  1/2 c. brown sugar

  2 egg yolks

  1 t. vanilla

  2 c. flour

  1/2 t. salt

  Mix shortening, sugar, egg yolks, and vanilla in bowl. Slowly add flour and salt and mix well. Roll into 1 tablespoon sized ball. Press thumb gently into center. Fill well with jam. Bake at 350 degrees for 15-18 minutes. Cool on cookie rack.

  Episode 4

  Peaches & Cream

  Granny scooped hot peaches out of her blue enamel pot, slid them into a jar, and turned to Colleen. “Now, you need to make sure the top of the jar is clean and dry, so it will seal right.” Granny handed the ladle to Lavina. “Can you show Colleen how it’s done?”

  Granny hoped Lavina would enjoy the company since she hadn’t heard from Nathan in three weeks. To her surprise, Lavina was doing well, her nose always in her Bible. But she did need fellowship too, and canning bees held a special place in her heart.

  Granny thought of her mamm, who only asked her closest friends to bees. They were all gone to glory, but the picture was clear in her mind. They always took a noon meal break and chatted about their kinner, and Granny’s eyes misted when she thought of how her mamm talked so fondly of her. She used to hear through the screen door as a young one, no older than Millie and Tillie.

  Did Colleen or Lavina ever hear words of praise from their mamms? Well, if they didn’t, they’d hear it from her. “You girls are making your Granny mighty proud, in a goot way.”

  Lavina turned and smiled. “I never knew my granny. Danki.”

  Colleen stared straight ahead, as if in a trance. “I’ve done this before…”

  “What?” Lavina asked. “You’ve canned?”

  Colleen put her hands to her cheeks. “I don’t know. I just thought of something as a preschooler.”

  Granny went over to her breadbox. “It’s hot and we all need a break. Come sit down.”

  Colleen and Lavina obeyed. Granny sliced the bread and put a plateful on the table. “Now, this is the fun part. Hot peaches on homemade bread.” She went over to the large stock pot full of peaches, scooped them into a bowl, and sat it on the table. Lavina got up to get plates, but Colleen still seemed to be daydreaming.

  “Colleen, are you okay?” Lavin
a asked.

  Granny fetched some Meadow Tea from the icebox. “Drink this.” Colleen reached for the tall glass with shaking hands and quickly drank it. Granny wondered if she needed to talk. Talk until the tears came… “What ails you, Colleen?”

  Colleen took a deep breath. “You’ll think I’m crazy…”

  “Never. Now tell Lavina and me what’s wrong. Remember, you have friends, jah?”

  Colleen nodded. “It was probably nothing. I should get back to Forget-Me-Not. Aurora might be missing me.”

  Granny reached across the table for Colleen’s hand. “Aurora’s playing with her friends. Janice is watching them. And you wanted to make peach pies later on.”

  Colleen gave Granny a hollow look. “The more I live here, among the Amish, I keep remembering things, or imagining them. I can’t tell.”

  “What kinds of things?” Lavina asked. “Good or bad?”

  Colleen’s chin quivered and Granny prayed that this dear girl would learn to cry and open up, never cutting herself again.

  “Happy thoughts, but I’m in an Amish home. But there are lots of quilts. So silly.”

  “How many of these thoughts do you have?” Granny coaxed.

  “They just keep coming. When I saw Ella’s root cellar, I thought I’d been there before. But with an older Amish woman. Again, I’m a little girl.” Colleen put her hands to her cheeks as a tear escaped. “Sometimes I think I’m going mad.”

  Granny got up and sat on the bench next to Colleen. “Maybe you’re remembering a place you visited as a child. Did your mamm ever take you to visit an Amish settlement? Popular among the English.”

  “My mom wasn’t there. And she’d never take me to an Amish house.”

  “Why?” Lavina asked.

  “She doesn’t like the Amish. Used to ridicule them, but she was either drunk or on drugs.”

  “What did she say?” Granny prodded.

  Another tear slid down her cheek. “She’d tell my dad…” Colleen’s eyes grew round and she remained silent.

  “She told your dad what?” Lavina asked softly.

  Colleen reached for her middle and sobbed. Granny embraced her and pat her back. “Let it out, even if it doesn’t make sense. We won’t be offended.”

  Colleen clung to Granny and in between sobs, said, “The Amish ruined my life….”

  Her mamm thinks the Amish ruined her life? How could they? Unless… Granny put her hand over her heart. Could her instincts be true about Colleen?

  ~*~

  Lavina listened to the even rhythm of the horse hoofs against the road, and it calmed her heart. Had she been too hard on her mamm? Colleen’s mamm was a drug addict, but hers was always strong. Emotionless, but a constant anchor during her daed’s rages. Three weeks and no news through the Amish grapevine was unusual. If they went back to Ohio, surely she would have heard something.

  No letter from Nathan either. But for some reason, Lavina didn’t panic. Everything she was learning from Maryann about the Good Shepherd seemed to be blotting out the guilt she’d carried. If a sheep strayed from the flock, God would leave the ninety-nine to find the one in danger. He did that for her in the form of Granny and Jeb Weaver. How she blamed Granny for Nathan having to leave, thinking her immoral past had made his parents demand he come home. Love covers a multitude of sins, she’d read this morning. If Nathan loved her, he’d only see her as pure.

  She pulled the buggy into Maryann’s driveway and once again, thanked God for this wunderbar family that took her in. Becca ran out the side door in bare feet, a letter in hand. “You got a letter from Montana!”

  Nathan. Just the sound of his name made her heart warm and cold at the same time. She took the letter from Becca and got out of the buggy.

  “I’ll take the horse back to its stall,” Becca said. “You enjoy your letter.”

  Now that Becca was sixteen, she seemed closer in age to Lavina’s eighteen years. Nineteen soon. “Danki Becca. I won’t be long.”

  Becca had concern etched on her face. “Ever hear the English call the summer ‘lazy days’? ‘The lazy days of summer’? Why not take a lazy day? You help mamm and Granny enough.”

  “Ach, canning bees are fun. Not work at all.” She managed a smile. “But danki, again.”

  Becca nodded and then led the horse toward its stall behind the house. Lavina looked down at the letter. It was Nathan’s handwriting. He’d learned from Roman how to leave her little messages in woodpecker holes…usually words of love and encouragement. But what would this letter hold?

  Lavina walked to the front porch since no one was on it, sat on the cedar rocker Nathan made for her before he left, and opened the letter:

  Lavina,

  When I think of you, I imagine you at a canning bee, and I hope you’re having fun.

  I need to tell you something. My daed did need me on the farm, but he had other reasons to want me home. I never told you, but I was engaged two years ago. I was so young, but I courted Sarah since I can remember. But she refused to be baptized, and instead, left the Amish. She wanted me to leave with her, but I refused. Well, she came back, fully repentant, and will be baptized this fall.

  I came to Smicksburg to find a wife, saying there was no one in Montana for me. But it was a half-truth. I just couldn’t get over Sarah, so I left. But I found love again with you. And I do love you, Lavina, but I feel torn. Part of me still loves Sarah.

  I’m so sorry you have to hear this, but I need time. My daed said my heart will keep turning to the woman I really love over a period of time. Right now, like I said, it’s divided.

  I’ll write again soon.

  Nathan

  Lavina couldn’t understand why Colleen had a hard time crying, because tears freely came and blotted the letter. She ran into the house to look for Maryann.

  ~*~

  Ruth wiped the rim of the Mason Jar and placed the lid and ring on top. Janice said if you turned jars upside down they would seal without a water bath, and she decided to try this method. She placed the jar on the tea towels that lined the kitchen counter. While most women were enjoying canning bees, she liked the solitude canning brought, although many hands did make work light. But peaches she relished, for the whole kitchen smelled like an orchard.

  She heard a knock on the side door. Ella peaked in. “Need some help?”

  “You’re home!” Ruth exclaimed, running to her friend. “I’ve missed you so.” Ruth quickly took off her apron and went to embrace her dear friend, but was surprised that Zach stood behind her. “Zach, welcome back. Luke’s in the workshop with my daed.”

  “I’ll get him. Important news.” Zach turned and ran toward the shop.

  “News?” Ruth asked. “About New York?”

  Ella took Ruth’s hands. “Jah. I have to admit, I loved it.”

  Ruth wanted to hold on to Ella’s hands forever. How would she manage without her best friend living nearby? Letters would be sent regularly, but it wouldn’t be the same. “Did Zach like New York, too?”

  Before Ella could speak, Zach popped into the kitchen, Luke following. “I love it up there, and land is cheap.”

  Ruth went over to the peaches she’d canned. As she opened a can up, she shot up a casting off prayer. Lord, I can’t bear this. Help me. She went to her icebox and took out fresh cream. “Who wants peaches and cream?”

  “I do,” they all said in unison, laughter following.

  Ruth placed four bowls on the table, scooping hot peaches into them and drizzling cream on top.

  “Where’d you get your peaches?” Ella asked.

  “Ach, the fruit auction. Mamm and I bought too many bushels. Do you want one?”

  Zach cleared his throat. “Will be hard to move all the canned goods to New York.”

  Luke leaned forward, arms crossed. “So you’re moving?”

  Zach looked at Ella with a grin. “We found land. Five-hundred acres.”

  “In Marathon?” Luke asked.

  “Nee, in a new settlem
ent outside Cherry Creek. Thirty families moved to a town called East Otto, and the land’s so rich, it’s black. In a big valley, so the land is rich in silt.”

  Ruth feared tears would come, so she got up and took a pitcher of Meadow Tea out of the icebox. Lord, help me! I should be happy for them… She placed four glasses on the table, along with the pitcher, and then sat on the bench next to Luke, needing him near.

  Ella’s eyebrows shot up. “Ruth, you don’t look goot.”

  Luke squeezed Ruth’s hand. “I’m sure Ruth’s feeling the same way I am. We’ll miss yinz.”

  Zach’s blue eyes twinkled. “Not if you come with us.” He clapped his hands and laughed. “Remember how we dreamed of having a dairy farm as kids? It could happen.”

  Luke froze, peaches halfway to his mouth. “What?”

  “The land is dirt cheap,” Zach said, laughing. “And the kinner will have plenty of room to play…”

  “They have room now,” Ruth said, thinking of the new slide and swing set her daed just finished making for Micah.

  “I know, but this way, they’ll have an inheritance, too. Luke and I can pass land on to our kinner. What greater gift?”

  “Can’t you find land in Smicksburg?” Ruth blurted. “Maybe up toward Troutville or over in Volant?”

  “Not as cheap as New York,” Zach said. “And the state will give us a generous amount for organic milk. We’d all do well.”

  Ruth glanced at Luke. His eyes were bright, just like his brothers. “Luke, we’re building on to this house, jah? The shell is up for the addition.”

  Zach put his hand up. “Don’t give us an answer now. No pressure. But we would like to go over the numbers and see if you’d be interested. Then you’d have to see the land for yourself.”

  Luke yanked at his blond beard. “How about your place? Will you sell it to Uncle Otis?”

  “Selling it to Hezekiah. Already shook hands.” Zach took off his straw hat and fanned his face. “He deserves to have it. Helps me so much.”

  Ruth felt nauseated. Moving to New York and not knowing what to do with Uncle Otis. The man had been a handful on his brief visit, and her daed and Jeb had to have words with him. She had to admit, she was relieved when he went back to Ohio, for the time being. But it was their responsibility to care for him in his old age. She stared at her peaches. How could she leave Smicksburg? How could Ella do it so cheerfully? Was New York that wunderbar?