~*~
Jenny rubbed her fingers over the rabbit’s velvety ears. “Danki Joe.”
“Jah, Joe, so nice of you,” Roman added. “Want some peaches?”
“Nope, just wanted to bring over the rabbit for my favorite seven year old.” He winked at Jenny. “And, get out of the house…”
He sighed as he sat on the porch step next to Jenny. “Marge is going to church again?”
Joe chuckled. “You don’t miss a beat, kiddo.” He nudged Jenny. “Ya, getting all religious on me.”
“And you don’t like Baptist?” Roman looked up as he leaned against the porch rail.
“Well, I don’t mean any disrespect to you, but I think religion is a crutch for weak people.”
“Jah, you’re right. My father-in-law, Jonas, has crutches and needs them. No shame in it.”
Joe wiped his brow. “I mean God is a psychological crutch. You know. For weak-minded people.”
Jenny giggled. “If God’s a crutch, He must be a big one.”
“I don’t mean a real crutch, honey.” Joe looked down at Roman. “I don’t want to put doubts in her mind, since you’re all religious.”
Roman smirked. “Jenny can hold her own. She knows God in here.” He pointed to his heart. “I think the religion you’re talking about is the one Jesus hated.”
“Jesus…hated?”
“Jah, he called the Pharisees hypocrites and sons of the devil.”
“Who were the Pharisees?”
“Religious leaders in Jesus’ time.”
Jenny sat up straight “Daed, Joe said his dad is a hypocrite. Is he a son of the devil?”
“It’s not for us to judge a person’s heart. Most likely we’d be too harsh. God’s longsuffering.”
Joe slouched. “What’s longsuffering?”
Jenny put up two fingers. “It’s two words put together. A compound word. Long and suffering. So, it’s someone who suffers for a long time.”
Roman pat Jenny’s head. “The closer to eight you get, the smarter, jah?” He pulled on her braid playfully. “You’re right. It’s what your new mamm was with you. She was patient.”
Jenny slipped a smile. “Jah, she was, and I made her suffer for a long time….”
“Nee, only a few months.”
Joe rolled his eyes. “Jenny’s easy to like. My dad, well, he’s a hypocrite….”
~*~
Fannie sliced peaches and tried to turn her mind from the fact that she was no longer in the same church district as Granny. She understood the Gmay got too big and needed to keep under two-hundred, but to not see Granny and her knitting friends every other Sunday jabbed at her heart more than she thought possible. She remembered sitting on Granny’s knee when a kinner, as she attempted to stop her fidgeting. Fannie smiled through blurry eyes; she’d acted up in church just to sit on the dear woman’s lap.
And the Amish grapevine was faster than the internet, as Janice always joked. Word had it that Zach and Ella loved New York. How could Ella love a place so far from Smicksburg? Wouldn’t she miss the knitting circle? Ella was someone who she looked to as a role model too, being a little older, and someone who lived-out her faith. How many times had Ella helped her with her weight obsession? And now being pregnant, and her mind plagued with old fears that resurrected themselves…she needed Ella. She needed all the girls in the circle.
Fannie tapped her fingers on the counter. Being fidgety never ended….She took off her apron and went into her living room, propped her feet up, and picked up her knitting basket. The new alpaca yarn she got was soft and as she knit one, purl one, she let the yarn calm her. The rhythm of the needles along with the scent of peonies wafting in from the open window took the tension out of her neck, but the pain in her lower back continued. Most likely from over exerting herself canning peaches.
As she knit, she struggled to keep her eyes open. She almost drifted off, but a sharp pain in her abdomen made her yelp. Fannie grabbed her middle and screamed, and then the room began to swirl.
~*~
Later that night, Marge ran from her front porch to meet Granny. “Oh, Deborah, we heard. You don’t even have to ask. Janice and I will drive the knitting circle down to the hospital.”
Granny dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief. “I met you there.”
“What?”
“Remember? I met you in the hospital. So glad I did.”
Marge’s eyes softened. “Me too. Changed my whole life…”
“I’ll tell the girls you can pick us up at seven. Is that okay?”
“Sure. See you then.” Marge charged back into her house and headed right to her woodstove. She stirred the peaches furiously so they wouldn’t burn along the edges. It was times like this she wanted a gas stove. She’d come to Smicksburg with visions of Little House on the Prairie dancing in her head, but reality was setting in.
Joe came in the back door. “Something burning?”
“No, I caught it in time but I’m sick of this woodstove. It heats up the whole kitchen. We need a gas one.”
To her shock, Joe started to laugh. Being upset, hot and in a hurry was not a good combination. She spun around and eyed her husband. “What’s so funny?” she snapped.
“You are, Mrs. Ingalls. Never thought it would be this hard, huh?”
“Joseph, I am not in the mood. Fannie’s in the hospital and I need to drive my Amish friends to the Indiana Hospital.” She went over to her icebox, took out some cheese, and tossed it to Joe. “Have this for dinner. I didn’t cook anything.”
Joe stood as still as a statue.
“Oh, don’t be in shock. I cook every night…” Marge wondered how much more she could take today.
“So, you’re not going to church?” Joe asked in a monotone voice.
“No, and neither is Janice. We have to haul half of Smicksburg to the hospital.”
Joe sat down slowly. “But Janice is the pastor’s wife. Won’t he be mad?”
“Why would he?”
“Because she missed a service….”
Marge tried to understand Joe’s meaning, but was stumped. “Joe, what’s running around in that mind of yours?”
“Being whooped, that’s what. If I missed a Wednesday night service, my rear-end would ache for a week.”
Marge went over and sat at the table next to Joe. “I’ve been trying to tell you that these people aren’t like that. It’s love God first, not rules and religion. Don’t you understand?”
Joe took a deep breath. “Kind of hard to forget how much church messed me up.”
Marge snapped her fingers. “There, you said it. The church your dad pastored messed you up, not God.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No, but I know you. You’re comparing everything you see from the Smicksburg Baptist Church to your dad’s and seeing that you were raised in a dead church.”
“A dead church?” He looked out the window. “May be on to something. Not much life in it, that’s for sure.” He met her gaze. “Have to admit, I’ve never met Christians who seemed free.”
Marge reached for his hand. “Free from what?”
“Rules. I mean, Janice is missing church when the doors are open. My mom would have heard about it for a year.”
“Seems to me like people are more important than church. The Amish help me see the church is simply a group of people gathered to worship. They don’t even have churches.”
“I know. It’s given me a lot to think about. Not saying I’m a believer, but if Jenny has her way…”
“Jenny? What’s she got to do with your faith?”
Joe snickered. “She’s a female preacher, so the Amish can’t say they don’t have them. That little girl thinks it’s a pity I don’t believe in God. She gave me some of her books about Jesus. Really touched my heart, have to admit.”
Marge grinned. “So those little books you read, all solid colored, are Jenny’s?”
Joe pointed at her. “They’re schoolbooks. Pathway
Readers. Do not tell a soul, understand?”
Marge felt like laughing, just the thought of it. Joe had been sitting up reading by the oil lamp, but when she asked what he was reading, he’s just say, ‘nothing’. Hopefully the books Jenny gave him would help him see the church he grew up in tainted his view of God: destroyed it.
~*~
Fannie clenched Melvin’s hand as they waited for the doctor. How could I be so vain? So stupid? To think she was fat, not eating when hungry; God’s way of telling a pregnant woman the baby needs food. Is this what her body image problem had come down to? And how would Melvin forgive her if he knew?
She heard a faint knock on the hospital room door, and thinking it was the doctor, the room started to swirl. But she managed to make out a group of women. She laid her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes to stop the dizziness.
“How are you feeling?”
Fannie felt warmth in her heart. “Granny,” she whispered. “Glad you’re here.”
“We’re all here. The whole knitting circle was concerned and needed to come.”
“Jah, we’re here to help carry your burden,” Ella said.
Fannie opened her eyes and looked over at Ella. “Wish you wouldn’t go…”
Ella kissed her cheek. “You’re tired. Rest now.”
Janice leaned forward. “You want me to elevate this bed so you can sit up?”
“I keep getting dizzy, so do it slowly.” Fannie concentrated on the lights above her and held her queasy stomach. When she was elevated enough to see everyone, she put her hands over her face and wept. How could she face these women, having starved her baby to death?
Colleen came closer. “It’s good to cry, Fannie, instead of bottling it up. Believe me.”
Granny gave a forced smile at Colleen. “Jah, get it out. Cleansing tears.”
Fannie gripped the sheets on the bed. “No tears will cleanse me!” she blurted.
“What needs cleansed?” asked a burly nurse who sauntered into the room. “Something wrong?”
Melvin got up. “Please, can we see the doctor?”
“He’s in the next room. Will be over in a jiffy.” She took Fannie’s temperature and pulse. When she took her blood pressure, she asked, “Do Amish always bring this many visitors?”
“Jah,” Granny said. “Took three cars to get us all up here.” Granny looked over at Joe. “Really appreciate all the help.”
“It was nothing,” Joe said.
“Absolutely,” Marge added. “We’re not Amish…yet.” She looked at Joe, then burst into laughter. “Just kidding.”
“Never know,” Colleen said. “The more I’m in Smicksburg, the more I like the Amish ways.”
Fannie heard the doctor’s voice and fear gripped her like never before. The doctor asked her if she minded the visitors hearing what he had to say. She nodded. “We’re all like family. Go ahead.”
“Well, I have good news. You’re still pregnant.”
Melvin shot up. “What?”
The tall, lanky doctor put a hand on Melvin’s shoulder. “Your wife expelled old blood. Lots of it. But the baby’s fine. Strong heartbeat.”
Fannie couldn’t contain the good news. Melvin bent down to hug her and she rested in his embrace, letting the tears flow freely.
“You are a little anemic, though. Eat lots of leafy greens, but I’m putting you on prescription iron.”
“Doctor,” Fannie said between sobs. “I’ll eat everything and anything for my boppli.”
The doctor’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, don’t eat just anything. Some things aren’t good for the baby, or boppli as you Amish call them.”
Fannie nodded. “That’s what I meant. I’ll be eating plenty and goot.” She met Granny’s eyes. The light, blue eyes that could see her pain without her even saying a word. The woman who helped her overcome her body image problems, and when they came back to haunt her, overpowering her at times; Granny was still right there to help her get through…along with her knitting circle.
~*~
Granny awoke to someone pounding on the side door. She shot up, looked at her wind-up clock on the nightstand, and panicked. Nine o’clock? How could she have slept through half the day? And where was Jeb? Did he get his breakfast?
She heard talking and quickly changed into her dress and apron. She combed her long gray hair and gathered it at the nape of her neck, and then took her long barrettes and pinned it into a swirl. This way, her massive amount of hair would stay in place under her kapp.
Taking some water from the basin she filled last night, Granny splashed her face, helping her wake up. Then, as usual, she took her Tea Tree Oil soap to cleanse, and made her way quickly out to her company.
When she walked into the kitchen, she didn’t like the look of Jeb’s face. What was wrong? Ella, Zach, Ruth, and Luke all sat at the table, drinking coffee.
“Morning,” Jeb said.
“Ach, why didn’t you get me up?” She put her hands on her warm cheeks, embarrassed.
“Deborah, you were up late with Fannie. You’re no spring chicken anymore…”
Granny ignored his comment, went to the blue speckle ware coffeepot and poured a cup. “So goot of yinz to visit.” She turned to see that Ruth had tears in her eyes. “What happened?”
Jeb pat the bench next to him, and she took a seat. “Ella and Zach found land in New York. They want to split it with Luke and Ruth.”
Granny immediately started to remind herself to breathe. Deep breaths had helped her through harder times, and calmed a body down. It also gave her time to think of what to say. But she couldn’t find words. Just like when she was speechless when her sons moved away. She’d heard Ella and Zach found land, but didn’t think they’d move. Now Ruth and Luke, too?
The pendulum clock ticking and the coffee pot percolating were the only sounds in the room. Jack breathed heavily through the side screen door. “I need to feed the dog,” Granny said. Before anyone could stop her, she quickly made her way outside to see her dog. How this black lab was able to calm her body down was a mystery. No wonder Suzy was so upset seeing her little Mollie decline. She went to the old metal milk churn where Jack’s food was stored, and taking the scoop, she filled his bowl. Granny stoked his shiny back, as he chomped on his food. “My comforting friend,” she whispered.
“Granny, are you alright?” Ella asked as she joined her on the porch.
Ruth followed, a hanky held up to her eyes. “Luke and I aren’t sure we’re leaving. We came for Jeb’s advice, since he’s our bishop now.”
Granny sat on a cedar chair, still not able to speak. How could she tell them she’d miss them, since they were like daughters? Amish folk moved all the time, mostly for land. Always land. The People were being scattered for lack of farmland. It was a cross the Amish were learning to carry.
Ruth and Ella sat on the bench across from Granny. The fear in their eyes made her wonder if she was scaring them, making them think she was ill. “So, you found land at a goot price?”
“Jah, and it’s in a large valley, so it’s rich,” Ella said. “It’s always been Zach’s dream…mine, too.”
Granny met Ruth’s gaze. She knew Ruth was planning on building on to the dawdyhaus next to her parents. And she was expecting. As another tear slid down Ruth’s cheek, Granny couldn’t help but join her in shedding a tear. Tears cleansed a body…
Ruth got up, bent down and hugged Granny.
“We don’t have to move,” Luke said, as he came on to the porch. “We’re just talking about it, Ruth.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “God won't lead you where His grace can't keep you.”
Ruth turned to embrace Luke. Granny took in the words Luke just spoke. It was a saying among the People she’d heard often, but it took on new meaning when you had to believe it. Would God give her the grace to carry her through yet another valley? And would her girls be carried, too, since they’ve never moved from Smicksburg and didn’t know the loneliness that came with a new settlement?
Zach soon appeared and sat next to Ella. “We didn’t mean to upset you, Granny.”
Again, Granny put her hands over her warm cheeks, most likely beet red. “Zach, as long as you get lots of advice before making such a change, you have my blessing. But remember, the grass always looks greener on the other side.”
“But it is greener in New York,” Zach said with a grin.
“In the summer,” Jeb blurted. “But the winters are brutal. Best be talking to folks in New York when yinz go up.”
Granny’s mouth dropped. “So you’ve already decided to all go up and visit?”
They all nodded, and Granny lowered her head and said a long casting off prayer.
~*~
Ruth clung to Granny before she got into the buggy. “We’ll think about all you said. Zeal without knowledge isn’t goot.” She looked over at Jeb. “Danki for the advice, Bishop.”
Jeb grinned. “You best be calling me just ‘Jeb.’”
“I’ll see you tonight, at knitting circle,” Ruth said to Granny. “Knitting really calms me down, and I need it.”
“And the homeless need hats and scarves.” Granny grinned. “Will we ever advance from making scarves?”
“I don’t know. Glad Suzy doesn’t give grades out like in school.”
Ruth made her way to the waiting buggy and waved good-bye, along with Luke, Ella, and Zach. Granny attempted a broad smile, but could only produce a forced one, at best. “Change. Does it ever stop knocking at my door?”
Jeb put his hand on Granny’s shoulder. “Would you want it to? Life could get boring.”
“I like it boring. Nice and steady, like how the plants grow. We need to keep in pace with nature. Zach’s being impulsive.”
“He’s a man who wants a farm.”
“Well, we’re not apt to agree on this, Old Man.”
“Oma! Opa! He grew some last night,” Jenny nearly sang as she skipped through the yard, holding her rabbit. “Look!”
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 Page 39