Janice wiped away a stray tear. “This was Jerry’s idea. Likes to have people in the church get together, real casual-like.”
“Then why is he never here?” Marge probed.
“He’s always working on his dissertation. Almost done, but needs to defend it to get his Ph.D.” She looked up at the sky, past the towering pines. “I pray he finishes soon. I miss him. I feel like a widow.”
Joe got up and pulled Janice to her feet. “I’m going to pray for you.”
Marge beamed at Joe, as she took Janice’s free hand. “You go ahead, Honey. Lead us in prayer.”
~*~
Jonas took a deep breath, trying to compose himself on the porch of his new dawdyhaus, attached to the main farmhouse. When the families from the Baptist church came for Amish Day Camp at ten o’clock this morning, what if his MS kicked in and his speech became slurred? MS had never affected his speech, but with such an unpredictable disease, what if it happened today?
He looked down into the devotional Jeb lent him, Grace for the Moment, by Max Lucado. He shook his head in amazement. Jeb was a wunderbar goot bishop, and knew what he needed.
Even though it was August, he started at the beginning, January 1. His eyes landed on the title, God Listens, and quickly read the Bible verse at the top of the page:
I cry out to the Lord; I pray to the Lord for mercy. Psalm 142:1
He went on to read how God listens to the cry of everyone: elderly in resting homes, prisoners on death-row, alcoholics, businessmen…everyone. Jonas bowed his head, asking for grace to be able to talk coherently to the families that would arrive soon.
Jenny, Millie and Tillie ran up the steps. Jenny, as usual, took the lead. “Opa Jonas, we were watching you. Are you okay?”
Since Jonas had the tree house built on their favorite tree, the girls had been calling him opa. Only having one child, he’d never been a grandparent. And now he had three beautiful little granddaughters. “Ach, I’m fine. Just a little nervous to speak in front of the English.”
“But you talked to the English in your store,” Millie quipped.
Jonas pulled at his beard. “You’re right, but it wasn’t about anything personal. These folks want to know about Amish life.”
“We can help answer questions,” Jenny said.
Tillie went to Jonas and put a hand on his shoulder. “Jah, Opa Jonas. We can stay here the whole time.”
Joy filled Jonas’ heart, and spread across his face. “I’d like that. But these folk are paying money and are told they’d be talking to an Amish man.” He winked. “I guess you girls will be a surprise bonus.”
Before the bus turned onto the driveway, its sound could be heard. “Can’t believe they had enough signed up to hire a bus driver.”
“No wonder you’re nervous,” Jenny said, taking a seat next to him on the bench. “We’re here to help if you need us.”
Jack barked at the gray bus, darting in front of it, as if to warn it to come no closer. The girls screamed, thinking he’d get hit. But Jack turned when he heard them, thinking they were in need of protection, and ran towards the porch. Jenny made him sit at her feet, and he plunked down obediently.
As the bus neared, Jonas could tell the Englishers were taking pictures from inside the bus, and he lowered his head. He’d told Janice no cameras, but the English couldn’t seem to resist. The bus door opened and families came out, each parent responsible to watch their own kinner, like Janice explained. Jonas counted thirty people and realized his mouth was dry. Could he speak at all?
Janice had everyone sit on the benches the Amish church wagon had provided in the yard, and Jonas made his way to the front of the benches. The girls followed and sat on the bench facing the audience, lending Jonas their support.
Janice introduced him and told people to raise their hands if they had a question. Soon several hands were up, and Jonas looked at a teenager in the front row, and nodded.
“How can you live without television? I’d die.” He had a pierced nose, jet black hair to match his black clothes.
Jones wasn’t sure if he was seeing things clearly, as it appeared the boy had a dog collar around his neck. He cleared his throat. “Well, television hasn’t always been around, you know. It’s kind of a new thing, when you think of all the centuries people lived without it.”
The teen rolled his eyes. “But now that we have it, you can, too. Why don’t you?”
Jonas noticed the boys’ need for attention and knew if he told them they didn’t want to be connected to the “grid”, he’d have a slew of other questions. He looked down at the grass, then evenly at the teen. “How can you live with television? Don’t you feel like you’re wasting your time watching how others live, and not living yourself?”
The boy glared at Jonas, but his parents grinned. The mom spoke up. “That’s why we’re here. To see how to make a stronger family.”
The teenaged boy shot a look of distain toward his mom, making Jonas cluck his tongue. “When I was a teenager, I spend lots of time coon hunting. My daed and I would be out all night, tracking down coons. Have you ever done anything like that?” he asked the boy.
“You hunt?”
“Jah, we sure do. And the price of hides used to bring in lots of money, but not now. I’d get up before milking, around three, to check my traps. I was like Daniel Boone.” He chuckled. “Wanted to wear a coon-skinned hat but the bishop wouldn’t let me.”
The teen gawked. “So you know who Daniel Boone is?”
“Doesn’t everybody?”
The crowd laughed, but Jonas, being serious, was confused. “Tell me, what do you folks do besides watch television? Do you have hobbies?”
A hand went up, and a little girl stood to her feet. “Well, sometimes we put a puzzle all together, if it’s a holiday…”
Her father reddened and shifted. “Yes, we need to do things more often.”
The girl stared at her dad. “Mom and I play cards when you watch the Steelers, twenty-four-seven.”
A nervous laugh came from the burly dad. “They’re not playing twenty-four-seven, like you call it.”
“But some other team is, and every season it’s a different sport and –”
“We’ll work on that, honey,” her mom said gently, looking up at her husband sympathetically.
Jonas looked at the girls and Jenny shrugged her shoulders. “How about a different question?” Jonas asked.
A woman stood up. “What’s your definition of marriage?”
Jonas froze. Didn’t everybody know that? He looked at Janice, who buried her face in her hands. Confused, he looked at the girls, and Jenny stood up. “My daed just go married, so I know the answer. It’s when two people really love each other and live in the same house.”
“And want to have bopplis,” Millie added. “We’re praying our new mamm has a boppli soon.”
“What’s a boppli?” the woman asked.
“Ach, a baby,” Jonas said. “We talk German in the home and sometimes a few words slip.”
The woman put her hands on her hips. “So you think marriage is between one man and one woman?”
Jonas clearly didn’t understand the question. “Well, we’re not polygamist, if that’s what you mean. In the Old Testament the men had more than one wife, but when Jesus came, he set the record straight: one man to one woman.”
The woman sat down, scowling. Jonas looked at Janice again, but she only looked at the ground. Did he say something wrong? Maybe he just wasn’t cut out for this. “Any other questions?”
A man stood up. “I like the Amish. They have a moral compass, having a clear line between what’s right and wrong.” He shifted his baseball hat. “But I’m a military man. Why are you pacifists?”
“Thou shalt not kill is one of the Ten Commandments,” Jonas said, relieved to have a question he understood.
“But what if someone came into your house with a gun, and started to threaten your family. You said you hunt, so you have guns. Wouldn’t
you shoot someone who was trying to hurt your family?”
“We don’t even lock our doors. We believe the Lord will protect. And I could never kill another human being.”
The man crossed his arms. “So, do you think I’m a sinner for being in the military?”
Jonas put up a hand. “I don’t judge. That’s God’s job.”
The man huffed and sat down. Jonas wished he hadn’t signed up for this. He didn’t think the English would be so confrontational. He imagined easy questions, like how to milk a cow.
A man raised his hand, and Jonas nodded. “We homeschool our eight kids. We think the public school is corrupting young minds. Is that why the Amish still have one-room schoolhouses?”
“Well, I went to public school, back in the day. Had to, until the law changed, allowing us to have our own schools. We do like having a say-so in what the kinner are learning. And all the kids can walk to school, too. We have schools all over the place as needed.”
The mom put her hand over her heart. “So, it’s like Little House on the Prairie. Laura with her braids flying in the air, following her sister Mary to school…”
“Well, the girls can wear braids in their hair, if that’s what you mean.” Jonas felt fatigue wash over him. “Would yinz like to see a cow being milked, and Amish rockers being made?” Jonas looked over at Janice, hoping she’d understand his meaning.
Janice stood up. “Any more questions?”
The teen in the front, dressed in black from head to toe, raised his hand. Jonas grimaced. “Jah?”
“How come you need crutches? Don’t the Amish believe in medicine?”
Jonas searched the youth’s eyes. Was he making fun of his handicap, or was he concerned? After a few seconds, his heart warmed. He was concerned.
“I have MS. I’m on an experimental drug that stopped most of the damage. Wish I’d had it when my symptoms started. But no real side effects yet. My brain hasn’t turned to cheese…”
The teen’s brows furrowed. “Can that happen?”
The audience laughed, and the youth put his head down.
“You’re exactly right,” Jonas blurted. “One side effect is that the drug can make holes in my brain, much like Swiss cheese. I joke about it, but I was awfully fearful. I figured if this here drug worked, it could spare lots of people being bound to a wheelchairs or worse.”
The teen looked up, and to Jonas’ shock, his eyes were misted. “Thanks a lot, then. My grandma’s in a wheelchair. I was just wondering…”
Jonas motioned for the teen to come forward, and he did. “How about we become pen pals?” Jonas asked softly. “You seem like a nice man.”
He rolled his eyes. “Try telling my parents that.”
“I can if you bring them over.”
He laughed. “It’s just an expression.” He looked down and fiddled with a stone on the ground. “Can you give me your address?”
“Jah, if you’ll give me yours. What’s your name?”
“Charles.”
Jonas grinned. “Nice to meet you Charles.”
~*~
Colleen traced the red kittens she embroidered on the white quilt square, wondering why Iva and Marie had to leave the quilt shop so suddenly. She’d just gotten there, and was hoping they’d talk over some homemade sticky buns again, like last week. Well, maybe it was because their mamm, Emma, was home from New York and they weren’t needed. They bid her good-bye and out the door they went…in a hurry. Amish were never in a hurry.
Emma appeared from her house, but looked pale. “How are you, Colleen?”
“Fine, and how was your trip to New York?”
Tears formed in Emma’s honey-hazel eyes. She took out a handkerchief from her apron pocket and dabbed her eyes. “Ach, I miss the kinner so. New York is so far away.”
“I can drive you up anytime,” Colleen offered. “But I know what you mean. It’s not like Marie and Iva, huh? Living so close.”
“Jah,” Emma agreed. “Did you finish the squares?”
Colleen held up the pile of quilt squares, and Emma flipped through them, taking her glasses off first, her nose almost on the material. “I’m real near-sighted, seeing things up close that others can’t see. Your stitching is perfect, similar to my daughter…Mad.”
Colleen was stunned Emma started to cry again, and then took her hand, asking her to come into the house. Emma sat sticky buns on the long oak table. “Would you like iced-coffee?”
“No thank you,” Colleen managed. “Emma, please tell me what’s wrong.”
Emma took a well-worn letter from her pocket, fidgeting with it as her hands shook. “I have a letter here I’d like for you to see. Only the signature…”
Emma smoothed out the letter, covering up the content only to reveal the bottom. “It’s from my daughter, years ago.”
Colleen stared at the signature. Mad. Who would sign a letter ‘Mad’?
“Does this handwriting look familiar?”
“Well, lots of people write that way….”
Emma’s shoulders hunched in defeat. “Ach, Marie and Iva told me about your conversations while I was away. And we’re awfully suspicious…”
Colleen stared at the signature more. “I know you’re suspicious of us Englishers. Did I say something wrong?”
Again, Emma burst into tears, and motioned for Colleen to get up. Emma took her hand and kissed it, and they ascended the creaky wooden steps to the second floor. Was Emma alright? Was the trip to New York too much on her? When they reached the top, she was led into a bedroom. Colleen stared at the log-cabin-style blue quilt on the bed, and déjà vu overwhelmed her. “I’ve seen this quilt. This room.” She turned to Emma. “I don’t understand why this keeps happening to me. I’m going crazy!”
Emma led her to the hickory rocker and asked her to sit down, as she took her place on the nearby bed. “Colleen, I’d like to read part of this letter to you. Just to confirm.”
Confirm? Confirm I’m crazy? “Go ahead.”
Emma trembled as she read:
Dear Mamm,
This is the last letter I’ll be sending for a while. I’ve made a decision to stay with Jared, and Colleen’s little visits, he’s forbidden. She’s three now and…
Emma could read no more. She buried her face in the letter, sobbing. Colleen tried to soak in what she just heard. Her father’s name was Jared. Could it be?
As Emma sobbed, Colleen looked around the room. The cuckoo clock had squirrels carved on it. Deja vu again! Colleen felt Emma’s hand on hers, and through pools of tears in her eyes, she said… “I’ve missed you so…and Maddie.”
Colleen felt the room blur and spin. Her mother’s name was Madeline, but Maddie on rare occasions…when her Aunt Miriam visited. “Emma, you don’t have a daughter named Miriam, do you?”
Emma nodded and rocked at the same time, not even attempting to hide her tears. “Jah. Two dochders left…”
Colleen cupped her mouth with her hands and gasped. When Emma looked up, she was drawn in…eyes that held warmth…like a distant memory. “Grandma?” Colleen whispered…
~*~
Granny plopped a heaping spoonful of bean casserole on Jeb’s plate, and then Nathan’s.
“Beans?” Jeb groaned. “We’ve been pickin’ them all day. Do we have to eat them too?”
Granny cocked her head back in disbelief. “Jebediah Weaver. Be happy you have something to eat.”
Jeb winked. “Just joking, Love. It looks goot.”
Granny took her seat to the right of Jeb and they bowed their heads in silent prayer. Granny was truly thankful this year for the rain. A dry August had shot fear throughout the community. Corn wasn’t as big as last year, but most families had enough to feed livestock.
Jeb said amen, and then Granny passed the basket of homemade bread to Nathan. “The drought in Montana affect anyone you know?”
“It was further south, but, jah, some had few crops.”
“And your parents? Do they have enough t
o put up?”
“It looked mighty goot when I came down.” He shoveled a spoonful of casserole into his mouth, and Granny resisted the urge to tell him to not eat like one of the farm animals, but knew he was mighty busy helping bring in the harvest and make rockers.
“So, will you be heading home?” Jeb asked. “You’ve done a goot job here, but shouldn’t you be getting home to –”
“I think you should stay longer,” Granny blurted. “Roman’s arm’s still in the cast and –”
Jeb cleared his throat loudly. “I think he should go home to Sarah…”
Granny knew Jeb was protective of Lavina, and as much as he loved having Nathan around, was fearful for this girl who was like a dochder. He noticed how Lavina ignored Nathan, following his instruction to guard her heart.
“Sarah’s fine with me being here,” Nathan said. “I can stay.”
Granny tapped the table with the handle of her spoon. “Nathan. Are you sure about Sarah? She did leave the People once, and it concerns me.”
“She’s a baptized member of the church now. Sarah told me why she left, and it satisfied me.”
Jeb put his hand on Granny’s shoulder. “And she took the baptismal classes and had her trying period. She’s Amish now.”
“It’s just peculiar that –”
“It’s not our place to pry.” Jeb turned to her, mouth scrunched up to one side.
Granny knew he wanted her to drop it. To not say what she was about to say…That it’s mighty peculiar for an Amish woman to be so fickle. She’d said it before, and she’d say it again, but knew Jeb rarely hushed her. Why did he treat Lavina like one of her China cups? She’d shown such strength lately. Had Lavina told Jeb something? Did she still love Nathan?
Jack’s bark made Granny jump. What on earth? From outside the window, she saw Janice’s van come to a screeching halt in front of her porch. The banging of car doors and running up the porch…An emergency? A loud pounding on the door made Nathan bolt up to let her enter. Colleen followed Janice into the house.
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 47