by Price, Sarah
With love and blessings,
Lizzie, Abraham, and the kinner
Mimi could hardly believe that, after waiting what seemed like such a long time, she was now waking up in her own home. She was not one of these younger brides that often had to wait several months after their wedding, staying at their parent’s homes until their husbands had secured a suitable place for them to live. No, indeed, for Steve had finally finished the work on the kitchen and bedroom just the weekend after Mary Ruth had returned to her home with Menno. Mimi hadn’t waited one single day to insist that Steve come pick her up. With bags packed and her hope chest ready to be loaded on the back of the wagon, she had been as eager as a child on her birthday morning.
He had come to collect her after the dinner hour. Her parents had watched, disapproving of their daughter’s eagerness to move from the family house to the not-quite-ready home of her new husband. Naturally, they wanted the best for their daughter and they were not convinced that she would adapt easily to becoming a farmer’s wife; after all, this was not the environment in which she had been raised. Yet, she was an adult and they did not voice their concerns. They knew that Steve was a hard worker and had finished renovating the kitchen and master bedroom. It would do for now, they reckoned. They just spoke quietly with each other, hoping that Mimi was not taking on more than she was prepared to handle.
The evening before, Steve let Mimi unpack her things while he did the eight o’clock evening milking. It had been shortly after ten when he returned to the house, tired and weary from a long work day. Without any delay, he retreated to the bedroom to prepare for a short night sleep. He had to arise at six in the morning to, once again, milk the cows.
Mimi had lain in his arms, listening to his deep breathing and gentle snores. This was something new to her and she took comfort in it. With his arm around her waist, he slept deeply, with little bother at having someone in the bed with him. Mimi, however, found it hard to fall asleep. She was a tad disappointed that their first night in their new home hadn’t been spent over a board game or talking into the night; or perhaps spending time together as husband and wife on their first night in their own home Instead, he had just worked and she had just unpacked. Then, it had been time to retire. Not exactly what she had expected.
It had been well into the night when sheer fatigue had finally hit her and she had fallen asleep. Now, having awoken in the dark, she was reaching next to her. The bed was empty. Steve had already arisen and was most likely at work in the dairy barn, milking the cows. She glanced at the clock: six in the morning.
The room was cold and damp. She shivered as she slid her legs from beneath the warm covers. She needed to get up, to make a wunderbaar gut breakfast for her husband on their first morning together in their own home. The kitchen needed the good smell of fresh bread, baking in the oven, coffee, and scrambled eggs. That was what she wanted her husband to immediately notice the moment that he would walk into the small house.
It was after eight o’clock, two hours later, when she finally heard his footsteps on the stairs leading to the front door. But at this point, the eggs were dry, the coffee was cold, and the bread hadn’t risen properly. Mimi sat at the table, her head in her hands, silently sobbing.
“Wie gehts?” he asked, concern in his voice, setting his hat on the counter and hurrying to her side. He rubbed her back and leaned over to hear her response.
“I wanted to make you a special breakfast,” she cried. “But everything is ruined.”
He pulled her into his arms, chuckling to himself. “Mimi,” he soothed her. “It’s quite all right. It’s only our first breakfast at home together.”
“Nee,” she replied, shaking her head and sniffling. “Nothing is going quite all right, Steve.”
He laughed, kneeling before her. He placed his hands on her cheeks and stared into her face. “What do you mean? Everything is fine, Mimi.” He glanced over his shoulder at the counter. The frying pan was on the stove and the glass coffee canister was next to it. “Let’s walk through this together, then,” he said, taking her hand and helping her stand. “See what we have here that can be salvaged.”
Taking charge, Steve scraped the dry eggs into the compost bin and brought out four more eggs from the refrigerator. He turned on the two front burners on the propane stove and melted some butter in the pan. “See?” he said cheerfully. “We can reheat the coffee and make a new batch of eggs. Cook it together, ja?” He smiled as he whisked the eggs in a green bowl. “Then we can enjoy it together.”
Another sniffle, but she tried to smile.
“Bread didn’t rise?” he asked as he looked at the lump of dough in the metal bowl by the sink. “Mayhaps the yeast wasn’t fresh?”
“I…I…” She hadn’t considered that possibility.
“We can pick up more when we go to Miller’s Store later today, ja?”
“We’re going to Miller’s?” She smiled at that news. It would be the first time that they would be at the store together as a couple, buying dry goods for their kitchen. She wiped at her eyes.
“Ja,” he nodded. “You can do an inventory of what is missing and what else you will need when breakfast is over. I’ll harness the horse and we can go right after, if you want.”
“But your daed…?” She started to say, knowing that Steve always helped his father with the morning milking.
“We’re living here now,” he explained. “Isaac’s kinner will have to help. Time for us to work our own farm, wouldn’t you agree?”
She understood what that meant. They’d be working the dairy, plowing the fields, fertilizing, planting crops and harvesting them together. There would be three hay cuttings throughout the spring, summer, and fall. That hay would have to be dried and baled. There would be a garden to plan. Even though it was winter, there would be a lot of work in preparing the fields by spreading cow manure and removing rocks. The tenants would not be working the fields this year. It would all be upon Steve and Mimi’s shoulders to ensure the farm’s success, both from the dairy and the crops.
Not far from there, Katie grumbled to herself at having been awoken early, five in the morning, to help her daed and grossdaadi with the morning milking. She hadn’t expected that new chore to become part of her future. But with Steve moved out and living across the street at his own farm, Katie’s daed needed the extra pair of hands to help. Not for the first time indeed, Katie wished that she had an older brother.
Before Steve moved next door, he was always there, the first up, to help her daed and grossdaadi with all the chores. John David helped too. But now that Steve was gone, starting his new life with Mimi at his own farm across the road, he had too much to do in the mornings and afternoons. So her daed had insisted that Katie step up and help out with the chores. If she didn’t milk, she could certainly hay and water the cows, horses, and mules.
And she knew what came next: helping with the mucking!
With it being winter, the animals didn’t go out to pasture as much. The soil needed to rest and then be fertilized and reseeded. That meant that the dairy and the barn were extra dirty. With one less pair of hands to milk, her daed would need help with the other chores and, without a doubt, that meant picking up a pitchfork and a shovel and mucking out the manure. With all these heads of cattle under one single roof, there was going to be a lot of mucking to do, that was for sure and certain and that was something she was not looking forward to having to do each day.
Earlier, the sky still gray and the air crisp with cold, she had managed to sneak a quick visit to her precious pony. She had stood at the stall door, reaching her hand over the edge to rub Butterscotch’s neck. She had even snuck a carrot from the kitchen when her mamm wasn’t looking. Butterscotch had enjoyed that treat and nuzzled her nose against Katie’s hand for more.
Now, however, Katie was dirty already, covered in hay and dust as she helped to feed the livestock.
Katie dropped the hay bale that she was carrying onto the floor. It was
one of those heavy sixty-pound bales packed tightly with a mix of Timothy grass and alfalfa, tied with orange plastic string that required a razor to cut, and her arms ached. It wasn’t fair that she had to get up so early to help. It wasn’t fair that Benjamin only had to help in the afternoons. And she’d never have time to groom Butterscotch before and after school; she’d have to help with the evening chores. It wasn’t fair, she thought. Why did Steve have to move anyway?
“Stop dragging your feet, Katie,” her daed called out to the young girl from across the back room. He watched her with a frown on his face. “Cows need hay, not delay.”
With a deep sigh, she put her head down and returned to work. Life was more than about her and her wants. It was about the family and the community. She knew better than to complain. So, until the days became longer, she would have to resign herself to the fact that she wouldn’t be able to spend as much time with her beloved pony as she wanted. The only saving grace was that she’d have time on Saturday all to herself to groom Butterscotch. Hopefully.
It was mid-morning when Rachel and Leah stopped by the Yoders’ farm. They wanted to check on Mary Ruth, to see how she was making out at home now that she had a few days to recuperate. With the kinner in school, they now had enough available time to harness the horse and take the short drive to their sister’s new home.
To their amazement, they found Mary Ruth in the kitchen. She was busy making cheese, the curds already setting in the five-gallon pot sitting on her stove. There was a warm, doughy smell in the kitchen, one that was both welcoming and fresh, emanating from the bread baking in the oven. Clearly, Mary Ruth had been quite productive that morning.
“My word,” Rachel said as she took off her black shawl, setting it over the back of a chair. “You should be taking it easy, Mary Ruth, don’t you think? It’s been only a few days!”
Their youngest sister laughed, her eyes sparkling and her smile bright. “Whatever for? I’m right fine, Rachel. No use sitting around doing nothing when there is work to be done, ja?”
Rachel frowned and glanced at Leah who merely shrugged her shoulders. This was not the feisty, sassy sister that they had known all of their life. Instead, this was a new woman, a woman who radiated happiness and joy. “Oh help,” Rachel muttered with the hint of a knowing smirk. “She’s ferhoodled!”
Mary Ruth teasingly flung a dishcloth at her sister. “Oh stop that,” she said but with twinkling eyes. “It’s just right gut to be home.”
Leah shook her head. “Don’t push yourself, sister” she said as she sat down at the table. “Don’t need to be sick again.”
They had been visiting for almost half an hour, talking about the farm and Mary Ruth’s responsibilities as a young, newly- married wife when Menno walked into the kitchen. He seemed surprised to see his wife’s older sisters seated at the table. But he greeted them with a warm smile before turning to his wife. “Chores done next door and thought I’d head over to the natural food store. Reckon you might want to ride along, ja?”
Mary Ruth happily nodded her head in approval. “Would like to stop by the dry goods store, too. Need some yarn, if we might.”
Rachel stole another glance at Leah, wondering if she was paying attention to this interaction. What is this? Domestication for Mary Ruth? Such a change in Menno Yoder, too. Rachel couldn’t believe it was the same man that Mary Ruth had been so forlorn about a few weeks earlier.
Menno started to turn to leave then hesitated. He looked back at Rachel. “How’s Elias getting on?” he asked.
“Danke for asking,” she said, lowering her eyes. “Been sick a lot. The chemotherapy seems to be working but it sure is taking a toll on him. Seems the cure is sometimes worse than the disease.”
Rachel held back the rest, how her husband was violently ill most days and barely managed to get out of the bed. With therapy in the mornings, he returned to the farm early afternoon and retreat straight to his room. There were days when she wondered if he had not been correct when he originally did not want to undergo treatment for the cancer. She hated watching him disappear before her very eyes. With not being able to keep food down for very long, he had lost too much weight. And then there was the hair loss, from his beard to his head to his eyebrows. Even on his good days, he refused to leave the bedroom, never mind the house.
“Boys helping ok with the farm work, ja?” Menno asked, pausing for just a moment before he added, “You need anything, you just ask. Family takes care of family.” His eyes stole another quick peek at his wife and, with the slightest hint of a smile, he nodded his head at her before disappearing back outside the house and into the cold.
A moment of silence befell the room. The clock ticked on the wall and a horse whinnied from outside. Rachel stared at her sister, her mouth all but hanging open. “Well,” she finally mustered enough courage to say. “Reckon things are right as rain in this house, ja? It sure appears that way.”
Mary Ruth blushed and turned away so that her back was now facing her sisters. She didn’t care much for the insinuation but she also knew that the last time she had spoken to her sister, there had been problems between her and Menno. Now, it was clear that the newly-married couple had worked out their communication issues. There was happiness in the home at last.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you are talking about,” Mary Ruth mumbled, reaching for the strainer that was on the counter and putting it into the sink.
Leah fluttered her hand at Rachel. “Leave her be, Rachel,” she said. “I’m sure Menno is right happy to have his fraa back home…and safe, at that.”
“Oh, I can see that,” Rachel quickly concurred.
They watched as Mary Ruth started to drain the curds in the strainer, using her hands to break up the pieces into smaller bits. Then, she used some cheese salt on the curds, mixing it well before placing the curds into a cloth lined plastic mold.
“Raising a new barn in two weeks,” she said while pressing the curds into the mold. “Can’t wait much longer. It’s ever so inconvenient for the neighbors to house our cows, although he’s most glad to be able to do it.”
Rachel nodded. “Ja, I’m sure he is glad but raising a barn is better, especially with the cold weather upon us. That’s a long walk twice a day and if it snows…” Her voice trailed off and she shook her head, her tongue clicking a tsk tsk in her mouth
Shaking her hands into the sink, Mary Ruth glanced over her shoulder. “You’ll spread the word, ja? Get the rest of the family together.”
Rachel knew what that meant: lots of cooking and lots of preparations. It would be a very busy day and, if all went well, not too much of a cold one. The women in the community would bring fresh bread and pies, canned goods and jams. There would also be the need for volunteers to cook fried chicken and baked meatloaf and plenty of side dishes to keep the men full and working hard. Even if the weather held out, they would need to serve the men plenty of hot coffee to keep them warm. But, with enough volunteers to help out, they’d be able to raise a nice new barn in just one single day. At least the outside shell. The inside would be left for Menno to finish as per his own requirements.
“Such a shame that,” Leah said casually. “Still wonder what caused this awful fire.” She shivered, the memory still fresh in her mind, remembering too well having seen that fire from her own home.
Mary Ruth stiffened her spine, her jaw tensing for just a brief moment. Leah didn’t notice but nothing could escape Rachel’s watchful eye. She had learned long ago to recognize the subtle signs in her own kinner, to know when something wasn’t being said. In that way, her younger sister was no different than them.
“What is it then, Mary Ruth?” she asked.
“Nothing.” Mary Ruth quickly replied.
But Rachel knew better than that. She could see that Mary Ruth was hiding something. Something about the fire that still upset her but that she didn’t wish to share. For a moment, she considered pressing her but, with Leah in the room, she eventually thought bett
er of that idea. It would do no good to have Mary Ruth confide in her with Leah present.
Mary Ruth sat next to Menno in the buggy, a warm blanket over her legs as she snuggled against him. It was cold, that was for sure and certain, but she found that she didn’t really mind it. No, indeed, for the cold permitted her to sit closer to her husband, her leg pressed against his and his free hand covering hers under the blanket, the pretense for keeping her hands warm.
She had been home just over a week and each day seemed to get better than the last. After her first night home, she had recognized the change in Menno. His eyes sparkled and he stole secret kisses from her when the kinner were not around. Sometimes he’d even wake up early and bring her a cup of hot coffee, setting it on her nightstand before he would sit down beside her, tracing a soft line across her cheek. Her eyes would flutter open and she’d see him staring at her. Immediately, a blush would cover her cheeks at his attention. But she enjoyed it.
Each and every morning since returning home, she attempted to arise with him in order to accompany him to the neighbors’ farm where their cows were temporarily housed. She wanted nothing more than to help him with the chores. Selfishly perhaps, she just wanted to be near him, to surround herself with his presence and his attention. But, each morning, he insisted that she’d stay snuggled in their bed until the morning chill in the kitchen dissipated.
She felt lazy and uncomfortable, staying in bed when there was work to be done. So, as soon as she heard the outside door shut, she would hurry out of bed and quickly dress by the dim light of the oil-burning lantern sitting on her dresser. Unlike at her sister-in-law Anna’s house, Menno did not keep battery-operated lights around. Instead, he maintained the old custom of candles and oil-burning lanterns. Despite the near tragedy in the barn, Mary Ruth found that she much preferred the old-fashioned lanterns over the more modern convenience of the Englische lights and battery-operated gadgets.