by Price, Sarah
And then she felt him move. The bed creaked and a soft glow flickered from a match that she heard her husband strike against a strike pad on the wall by the door.
“What’s wrong?” she mumbled sleepily, trying to sit up and make sense of why Steve was awake.
“Time for milking,” he whispered. “Go back to sleep.”
Milking? It was the middle of the night! “What time is it?”
“Two.”
“Two?” She couldn’t believe her ears. Two in the morning? Who milked cows at two in the morning?
“Ja, two. Today is the two, twelve, and ten o’clock milkings.”
She sat up in the bed in slight dismay, covering her mouth as she yawned. Shadows danced across the room as Steve moved about, reaching for his pants and slipping them on, one leg at a time, before he sat on the edge of the bed. He coughed twice, clearing his throat as he started to pull on his boots.
Awake now, Mimi rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she leaned against the headboard. Two, twelve, and ten? She had known that Steve practiced the ten-hour milking cycle that was said to produce more milk from the cows. More milk meant more much needed income. She knew that, for sure and certain. But she hadn’t understood what such a schedule actually meant. It meant that she’d have to plan her meals around his schedule. It meant that sometimes, they’d not be able to attend church service. It meant that on some days, visiting would be cut short. It meant that a full night sleep would only come once or twice a week.
She wondered why he didn’t change the schedule. Certainly it was grueling on him. She could tell it was a schedule that she was not partial to, that was for certain. However, she knew that changing the schedule would be difficult. Besides the fact that this schedule increased the income of the farm, once on a schedule, cows needed to adhere to it. To delay a milking would mean issues with the cows producing milk, some even drying up eventually.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I’ll help,” she mumbled, knowing that she’d never be able to fall back to sleep now that she was fully awake. She was a light sleeper and, once awoken, it was hard for her to fall back asleep.
It had become bitter cold outside as they walked from the house to the dairy. Mimi shivered, despite wearing a sweater and her black coat. The moon was out and lit up the now empty fields in a gentle blue-gray light. Everything looked quiet and sleepy, everything except for the two people who lit the lanterns in the dairy and began working, silent in the glow of night, while the rest of the community was still sound asleep.
Chapter 7: Sylvia’s Letter
Dear Family,
What a blessing! The weather holds out after that snowstorm a few weeks back. With the holidays so close upon us, I confess to being thankful for clear skies and dry air.
I am certain that Menno and Mary Ruth will be equally as thankful as the weather appears to be holding for their barn raising, an event I sure look forward to attending! It isn’t often we raise barns in winter and the fellowship will add brightness to these drab winter days!
The week wasn’t all work. Earlier this week, I visited two thrift stores, looking for some new bedroom dressers for the kinner. As they grow, the smaller dressers just don’t suit. New Holland had some wonderful pieces and John went to pick them up just yesterday.
Sad news. John’s daed has become so frail and is being cared for at Fairmount Home. Naomi and John visited the week past and said that Dawdi John’s health is failing rapidly. But we rest in knowing that he is well tended before he is called home.
On a happier note, we were blessed with visitors last weekend. John’s brother Daniel and his new wife, Wilma, came visiting and stayed for supper. She’s a lovely young lady from Ephrata and makes for delightful company.
I will sign off this letter now to get it in the mail. I reckon I shall see most of you well before you read this missive. In the meantime, I shall continue to pray for all of you, especially Rachel’s Elijah who I hear is not faring well with treatment. May he take comfort in the knowledge that God loves him and will tend to him, for God has plans for each of us that we know not.
May God bless each and every one of you,
Sylvia, John and family
“Something sure smells right gut in here!” Menno walked into the kitchen for the noon meal, rubbing his weathered hands together and smiling at his younger wife. With his dirty black work pants and soiled white shirt, it was clear that he had been working hard to prepare for the barn raising; something the whole family had been looking forward to with increasing excitement that was hard to hide, ever since that unfortunate fire had consumed their barn practically to the ground Yet, despite being tired, his eyes still sparkled at his young wife as he entered the kitchen. “Getting ready for the barn raising on Friday, ja?”
Mary Ruth was just pulling out four large, fragrant loaves of bread from the oven to set on the kitchen counter. She returned his smile, a hint of color rising to her cheeks as his eyes sparkled at her. He walked over to the oven and shut the door for her before reaching over to push a stray strand of hair off of her cheek.
“This is the last of the bread,” she said, setting the potholder on the counter. “Twenty loaves here and Sylvia is bringing another twenty, bless her heart. I don’t know how she does it with working that market.”
Menno leaned against the oven door, crossing his arms over his chest and watched as she gently pulled the bread from the metal pans to cool them on the rack. “Will be nice to have the barn back,” he observed, glancing out the window. The sky was blue, no threat of snow or any other precipitation on the horizon. “And the weather should be cooperative for tomorrow too, I reckon.” He turned back to her, watching as she carried plates chock full of food to the table and set them before his place setting. As always, she had set the table for him long before it was time to eat. “I reckon we should keep the kinner home from school,” he added, with a slight inflection to his voice, waiting for her response.
She looked up in surprise. “Whatever for, Menno?” The last thing she needed was to have to worry about little Ruth Ann. Though a precious gem of a girl, she had a tendency to get clingy with Mary Ruth, especially when other people were around. “They’ll be home early enough to help in the afternoon. Might be good to not have them afoot while so much activity is going on.”
Moving over to his seat at the head of the table, Menno nodded his head. “You may have a point, Fraa,” he admitted as he sat down. “Was just thinking it might do Melvin some good.”
Mary Ruth hesitated, contemplating her husband’s words. For the past two weeks, Melvin had been somewhat of a problem: moody, sullen, and quiet; all into himself, barely sharing with anyone She knew it had to do with the guilt he was feeling about the fire, that was for sure and certain. Would keeping Melvin home to help with the raising also help him rebuild his own bruised conscience or further hurt him? She wished that Menno would confront his son but she dared not question his reasons for not doing so. “Whatever you think is best,” she finally replied. “If so, I can leave a message to see if Anna would let Katie come. I bet that would cheer him up, you think?”
Menno nodded as she sat beside him. “That’s a wunderbaar idea, Mary Ruth. Might help him a bit, no? He sure does favor her company.”
She didn’t respond, biting her tongue from what she wanted to say. It didn’t sit well with Mary Ruth that Melvin had stolen those notes that she had left for his daed. But she wasn’t about to speak out to Menno. After all, Melvin was his son and what did she know about raising a young boy? She respected Menno’s decision about not confronting Melvin, even if she did neither fully comprehend it nor agree with it.
As she did not respond, Menno took the silence as his cue to start the blessing over the food and he bent his head. Following his example, Mary Ruth said a quick prayer of gratitude to the Lord, thanking Him for his many gifts but added a quick request that He take special care of His son, Melvin. She was worried that the boy wasn’t able to break fre
e from his guilt.
When Menno cleared his throat, she looked up from her prayer and passed him the warm slices of ham that she had heated up for dinner. With steaming mashed potatoes, freshly baked bread, chow-chow, pickled beets, ham, and green beans, the table looked as if it were ready for a feast, not a simple dinner in the middle of the week. But Mary Ruth liked to cook for Menno. Dinnertime was a special time, for just the two of them except on the weekends. With the winter weather setting in, she also liked to prepare a right gut hearty meal for her husband so that it warmed his insides and helped him take a short cat nap in the afternoons, before the kinner returned from school.
Some days, he would just sit at the table and read the paper while she cleaned the dishes. If he had no more chores until evening, he would drink coffee and share with her some of the stories from the Budget. When she’d finish cleaning, she would join him and work on the large blanket that she was crocheting for Suzanna. She was trying to crochet a blanket for each of the kinner for Christmas. Already she had finished Ruth Ann’s and Emma’s. They were folded in plain brown paper and tucked away on a shelf in the pantry, too high for curious little eyes to find.
Other days, they would hitch up the horse and buggy and take a short drive to visit Elijah and Rachel. Her sister remained a pillar of strength but it was clear that Elijah was not getting any better with his treatment. Instead, he was clearly becoming worse. His hair had fallen off and his skin resembled an over-baked piecrust both in color and texture. Mary Ruth almost couldn’t look at him for he now seemed like a man twice his age and bore no resemblance to the energetic and loving man whom her sister had married.
On those days, when they rode home, it was silent in the buggy. There were no words to be shared about the visit, only prayers to lift to heaven in the hopes that God would make certain Elijah was not suffering. Yet, when they returned to the house, Mary Ruth would wait patiently in the barn while Menno unhitched the horse. Then, they would walk, side by side, into the house where he would take her hand and lead her to their room, as though being together reconfirmed to him that she was with him and had not perished in the barn fire.
“Shall we go visiting today?” she asked innocently.
He glanced up and smiled at her. “Mary Ruth, we have over a hundred people coming here in two days. I think we will need to prepare, no?”
She blushed, embarrassed at her mistake. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
He laughed as he cut at the large piece of ham on his plate. “Nothing to be sorry about. But you need to make certain everything is organized. Daniel Miller is bringing the church wagon over this afternoon so that we can set up the tables and benches for the noon meal in the morning.” He chewed his food slowly, his eyes looking at the ceiling as though deep in thought. “The Riehl and Miller brothers are coming over later this afternoon to nail the wall studs together. I want to be here to help. ”
“Of course, Menno.”
For a few moments, they ate in silence. Mary Ruth pushed at her food, her appetite suddenly disappearing. She knew that other women were bringing pies, bread, cold cuts, and canned goods but she worried that there wouldn’t be quite enough food. She had never hosted a barn raising nor had she hosted a church service. With so many people attending, she was concerned about the weather and the food. Anywhere from one hundred to three hundred people might show up to help. It was almost impossible to plan how to feed them.
“You feeling poorly then?” he asked, his voice lifting at the end of his question.
She looked up and met his gaze. “Nee,” she replied, hoping that didn’t count as a lie. The last thing that she wanted to do was to concern him or show him her fear. The wife managed the home and food while the men managed the farm. It would do no good to show him that she was not confident in her planning. “Mayhaps, however, I could take a run over to Mamm’s? Pick up some more canned goods and ask Anna directly about Katie.”
It was almost an hour later when she pulled into her mamm’s driveway. She tied the horse to the hitching rail by the barn and, pulling her black wool shawl over her shoulders, she hurried across the front yard to her mamm’s side of the house. Inside, she was not surprised to see her daed napping on the sofa, a paper on his stomach and his glasses falling off his nose. Her mamm wasn’t in the room, but Mary Ruth thought she heard footsteps upstairs so she quickly ascended the steps and peeked into John David’s bedroom.
“Mamm?”
Her mother was hanging up some laundry that she had folded after it dried in the basement. It was too chilly outside for clothes to dry properly when hung on the clothes line. Instead, during colder months, she preferred to hang them inside as the basement tended to be warm. “Mary Ruth?” She sounded genuinely surprised to see her daughter standing there. “Is everything all right? You feeling poorly?”
Mary Ruth managed to laugh. “Mamm, it’s been almost a month. I’m fine.”
Miriam set the folded undershirts on the bed and moved around it so that she could take a good look at Mary Ruth. “You look pale! You shouldn’t be working so hard.” A look of concern crossed her face. “I knew I should have come to help you prepare for tomorrow.”
“Mamm,” Mary Ruth said. “It’s just fine. I’m only pale because it’s cold outside!”
Her mother looked at her, disbelieving her daughter’s explanation. “Then why are you here?”
“I need some advice, is all,” she replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed. She smoothed out a few wrinkles in the quilt before looking up at her mother. “I’m worried about tomorrow.”
“Worried?”
“Ja,” Mary Ruth added, nodding her head. “Worried there won’t be enough food.”
It was Miriam’s turn to laugh. “Oh Dochder! Have you ever been to a gathering where there wasn’t enough food? We always make do, don’t we now?”
Mary Ruth frowned. She didn’t like being laughed at by her mamm and certainly not over something that was so important. “I’ve never hosted anything like this, Mamm. No church services, no quilting bees, no barn raisings. When we had those things here, you always did all of the planning. I think I have the right to be worried, ain’t so?”
Taking a deep breath, Miriam smiled at her daughter. “Why don’t we go sit down and make a list of who is bringing what? The ones that you know about anyway, ja? Might make you feel better.”
Back in the kitchen, Mary Ruth sat in her usual place at the table and watched as her mamm hurried about the room, opening a drawer to search for paper and pulling a pen from a holder on the counter. Miriam sat opposite Mary Ruth and, after licking the tip of the pencil, squinted as she began to write.
“The essentials are meat, canned goods, bread, and dessert, ja?” She was speaking out loud, not really anticipating that Mary Ruth would respond. “And I know that Anna is making four big containers of her cup cheese to bring. She also has pretzels for dipping. That’s always a welcome treat.”
Mary Ruth listened as her mamm continued making an inventory, starting with all of her sisters. Lizzie was bringing forty quarts of applesauce. Ella had set aside tomorrow to make a dozen loaves of bread. Lovina was bringing fifty pies, a contribution from her entire church district. James would transport them in two pie boxes made from stained pine that was used specifically to transport pies to church services so that they would not get ruined in transit.
From her own pantry, Miriam was bringing thirty quart jars filled with chow-chow. After having three children who married during the previous month, she didn’t have much left to provide. However, she assured Mary Ruth that the families from the church district were sending along more canned goods with John David and Ella.
“Are you feeling better now, then?” Miriam asked, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “We haven’t even started talking about your own church district. They’ll be more bread than you know what to do with, I’m sure. And Sylvia will bring plenty of cold cuts for the sandwiches.”
Mary Ruth gasped. “But she also mad
e bread! That’s too much!”
Miriam laughed. “I guarantee you that she didn’t mind. She always loved baking.”
Mary Ruth felt a weight lift from her shoulders. Clearly she did not have to worry about the food. The friends, family, and church districts had come together to ensure that there would be no empty bellies at the barn raising the next day. “And Leah is bringing cookies, too.” She smiled at her mamm. “I guess I worried for nothing, then.”
Her mother reached over and laid her hand on her youngest daughter’s arm, the gesture immediately sending a warmth feeling of comfort through Mary Ruth. She placed her hand upon her mother’s. There was a moment of silence between the two women, an unusual showing of affection that neither had expected.
Finally, Miriam removed her hand as she cleared the emotion from her throat. “You should know by now that we take care of each other,” Miriam said gently, pausing to touch Mary Ruth’s chin, a gesture that she used to do when Mary Ruth was but a child. Then, turning her head, but not before Mary Ruth caught sight of the emotion in her eyes, Miriam added, “Everyone will come through. They always do.”
Mary Ruth sighed, comforted in the knowledge that her mamm was correct. No matter how much she worried, the community would come through for Mary Ruth and Menno. Without another word, Mary Ruth stood up and watched as her mamm walked back up the stairs to finish with the laundry. Smiling as she watched, Mary Ruth waited until Mamm disappeared before walking to the sink and, without being asked, quietly washed the dishes that were still there from the noon meal. It was the least she could do to help her mamm who had comforted her so with just a few moments of her time.