Sometimes it could be difficult to see how much Mammi had changed, but every so often, Anna saw glimpses of that same lively person in the frail woman before her. “I’m happy to see you again, Mammi,” she said softly now. “The sun’s shining brightly . . . it’s another beautiful day.”
Mammi’s white hair was pulled back in a bun beneath her white organdy Kapp, and she whispered to herself but kept turning the pages, some of their gilded edges worn away from decades of repeated reading. A few pages were even coming loose from the binding.
“I’m thinking of making a trip to Lancaster County,” Anna said, aware of the familiar lilac scent of the homemade soap her grandmother had made for years before Wanita took over the task. “Mamm reminded me that you spent a summer in Strasburg, too, many, many years ago.”
Mammi’s head lifted just then. “Strasburg?”
“Jah.” Anna paused, holding her breath. “Do you remember?”
Mammi’s glassy gray eyes seemed to clear, but her gaze looked beyond Anna. “I’ll wait for ya there,” she said breathily, as if talking to someone unseen, a faint smile on her face. “By the light of the moon.” Then Mammi slowly lowered her head to look at her tattered German Bible and began to turn the pages once again, murmuring to herself as her usual confusion seemed to descend.
The strange momentary response startled Anna. It was almost as if Mammi had actually remembered something from that time decades ago. What came to her mind?
Anna went on to talk about her plans to apply for a job there as though she and Mammi Eliza were having a real conversation.
After a while, when it appeared that Mammi was starting to drop off, Anna encouraged her to lean back in the recliner for some rest. It was only a matter of moments before she was fast asleep, her hands resting lightly on the old Bible.
Touched by the endearing sight, Anna leaned down to kiss her damp forehead as if she were a child. Like Mammi tucked me in when I spent the night with her and Dawdi John, Anna thought fondly. And glancing again at the ragged Bible, she realized it was the same one Mammi had read aloud to her during those very visits. Sometimes, Dawdi would also come in with her to say good-night and place his soothing hand on Anna’s forehead. Both of them had showed such tenderness toward her.
Reluctant to leave Mammi’s side, Anna stood there gazing at the sweet wrinkled face, wanting to share more about her hopes and prayers. Eventually, she tiptoed into the kitchen to find Wanita chopping garlic to make a batch of spaghetti sauce.
Wanita looked up. “How’s she now?”
“Dozing.” Anna didn’t mention that Mammi had possibly remembered her months in Strasburg. And something about waiting in the moonlight . . .
“She lives for your visits, you know.”
“I love seeing her, too,” Anna said, retying Wanita’s work apron for her where it had loosened in the back. “And you, sister.” She told Wanita about Cousin Sadie Flaud’s letter and the possible opportunity awaiting her in Lancaster County. “If it’s the Lord’s will for me to live and work there, I trust it’ll be obvious and that I’ll know without a doubt.”
Wanita’s eyes grew serious. “I would hate to see ya go, Schweschder.” She sighed. “What if you meet someone there—fall in love? How often would we see you then?”
“Well, I’m looking forward to what the Lord has planned for me. To be completely honest, I’m actually hoping to settle down somewhere other than Mifflinburg.”
Wanita smiled, but her eyes looked pained, so the effect was more sad than happy. “You’re a sensible young woman, Anna. And it may be time to expand your horizons and see where this prospect leads. Must it be so far from home, though?”
Anna grimaced. “I know it won’t be easy. I really just need a change—I’ve felt this way for a while now.”
“You’ll keep in touch, I hope.” Wanita’s expression was forlorn.
“No need to get ahead of yourself,” Anna said, glancing toward the doorway that led into the next room. “It’s not like I’ve got the job yet. And if I do end up moving there, I’ll definitely stay in touch with all of you . . . Mammi, too.”
“You’d come home weekends?”
“I’d miss you too much not to.”
Wanita gave the pot in front of her a good stir as she poured in the last of the chopped tomatoes. “We don’t know how long Mammi might have.”
“But she’s in fairly gut health other than her memory, ain’t so?” Even as Anna said the words, she realized she couldn’t bear the thought of losing her.
“Seems to be, jah. And I’m thankful for every minute of clarity she has.” Wanita washed and dried her hands. “Like those times when she can quote long passages of Scripture or sing hymns without being prompted. Moments like those are blessings.” She walked with Anna to the rear screen door, where Bonnie and Bethie looked up from their play and blew little kisses.
“Kumme again soon,” Bonnie said, eyes pleading.
Anna promised she would and blew a kiss back. Then, heading down the steps to the car, she prayed, Dear Lord, please watch over Mammi Eliza with Thy tender loving care.
During the short drive home, Anna passed the deacon’s familiar chair shop and a small country store run by one of their two preachers, as well as an Amish quilt shop she and Mamm frequented, owned by Dat’s cousins. Rounding the bend, Anna also spotted Atley Brenneman’s parents’ farmhouse and felt a renewed sense of relief, knowing that if she moved to Lancaster County, the steady stream of updates about his life wouldn’t reach her ears via the grapevine.
If Dat and Mamm agree to let me go, she thought, eager to see new places and new people.
Chapter 2
At supper that evening, Anna told her parents that she’d contacted the director at the Mennonite Information Center to request an application. The table was laid with the green-and-white-checkered oilcloth and Mamm’s off-white everyday dishes. A lazy Susan holding salt and pepper, sugar, and garlic salt graced its center.
“Based on Cousin Sadie’s recommendation, the director wants to have a face-to-face interview with me as soon as I can get to Lancaster County. She said I can hand-deliver my work application,” Anna said, cutting into her slice of baked ham with a maple honey glaze.
“So you’d miss a day or so of work here, then.” Mamm’s voice sounded pinched.
“Actually, I’ve thought of just giving my two weeks’ notice,” Anna said.
“You’re quitting?” At the head of the table, Dat grimaced and ran a hand through his dark bangs. Anna noticed gray circles under his brown eyes. “Simply because of an invitation from your Mamm’s Strasburg cousin?” he asked, looking over at her.
“Not just because of that,” Anna replied, going on to explain that she had been contemplating doing something new for some time. “I didn’t say anything right away, but I’m sure now that I want to take Cousin Sadie up on her offer to at least visit. I believe the Lord is leading me in all of this.”
“Well, the Flauds are God-fearin’ folk, but doesn’t it give you pause that they’re Old Order Amish?” Dat asked, a frown appearing.
Anna wondered why the topic at hand seemed to trouble her father so. She wouldn’t have thought that going to the Flauds’ would be so problematic.
“A visit’s fine, but does it matter that your Mamm and I would prefer you remain here, amongst our own People?” Dat said as he reached for his tumbler of ice water.
“I was hoping for your blessing, Dat.”
A slight shake of his head indicated any number of thoughts were going through his mind, but when her father spoke again, there was a softening to his tone. “I realize you’re old enough to choose Glen and Sadie Flaud’s offer, but if you were to settle down there and rub shoulders with the Old Order youth, that would concern us. I think ya know why.”
Anna sighed. He and Mamm must be worried I’ll marry outside the Beachy Amish church.
“I’ll attend a Beachy church,” she said respectfully.
“I would
assume so,” Dat replied, then paused to draw a breath. “But it would be hard on your Mamma if you married and settled down so far away, as well.”
Mamm nodded her head. “Both of us would miss ya, dear.”
They continued eating the tasty meal, including a vinegary macaroni salad with chopped carrots, celery, and onions, Anna’s favorite.
Mamm asked if she had called Cousin Sadie yet.
“I left a message at their phone shanty—hoping to hear back soon.” Anna also hoped this conversation might end happily and not the way it seemed to be headed.
“We won’t stand in your way, daughter.” Dat spooned up some more macaroni salad. “Just be careful not to fix your eyes on Lancaster County. Might be best to think of it as just a short visit.”
“But if I get the job I’m hoping for—”
“Well, you haven’t even had the interview,” he said, stopping her.
She understood, but she could also see he was struggling with letting her go.
“Regardless, I’ll pray God will be with you,” Dat added, his voice softer now.
“Denki,” she whispered loud enough for both parents to hear.
Mid Saturday morning, Anna heard back from both Cousin Sadie and Evelyn Leaman by phone and made plans to arrive in Strasburg that coming Monday morning. She’d have the interview with Evelyn the next day.
Anna was pleased that things seemed to be falling into place so quickly, and she packed a few clothes for the short visit, hoping and praying she would find favor with the director.
But her father’s cautious reaction to her plans lingered in her mind.
Monday’s breakfast of scrapple, fried potatoes, and sticky buns was especially delicious, thanks to Mamm, who’d gone out of her way. Afterward, Anna loaded her bag into the car and drove through miles of lush green alfalfa and small but unfamiliar towns on her way to Lancaster County. As she passed through busy Harrisburg and beyond, she was glad for Google Maps on her phone to guide her.
When Anna at last reached rural Strasburg, she took Lime Valley Road up to the righthand turn into the Flauds’ own long lane, lined with tall oaks that created a lofty, archlike passageway. Cousins Glen and Sadie’s stone Dawdi Haus was situated off to the east side of the larger main house, where Glen’s youngest son and family lived and ran the turkey farm. Both houses were set back quite a distance from the narrow rural road and featured distinctive roof lines and dormers. A rectangular gray buggy was parked near the carriage shed, its black shafts resting against the ground.
Parking her car, Anna had a fleeting feeling of embarrassment at its being the only one on the premises. While no power lines were in sight, a tall windmill stood not far from the white clapboard turkey house and the large woodshed on the opposite side. Colorful flowers were in full bloom, and the light fragrance of lavender permeated the air.
The hem of Anna’s dress swished against her calves as she moved up the cobblestone walkway to the Dawdi Haus where her mother’s cousins had resided for some years now. A large white birdbath surrounded by blooming pink and white ground cover stood off to the side of the walkway, and two red hummingbird feeders hung from the porch.
“’Tis wunnerbaar-gut to see ya, Anna!” Cousin Sadie said, her round cheeks rosy as she stepped out onto the back porch. She stood there smiling broadly in her long green dress and black cape apron, her iron gray hair parted down the middle and pulled back into a tight, low bun beneath her white heart-shaped Kapp. She was barefoot and held a white dishcloth in one hand.
Anna hurried to greet her. “Wie geht’s?”
“We’re fine . . . chust fine. Been lookin’ forward to your arrival.” Sadie patted Anna’s arm and invited her inside. “Glen’s over in the hayfield with the men, but he’ll be back come dinnertime.” She led Anna into the sunlit kitchen, where the windows were open and a tall glass pitcher of iced tea sat on the counter.
“Mamm sends her love,” Anna remembered to say. “And I’m grateful for your kind invitation.”
“Well, that’s quite all right. We’re family, and far as I’m concerned, your folks are salt of the earth.” Sadie carried a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies and set it down on the square oak table. “Make yourself at home.” Sadie placed her right hand on her ample hip. “Thought ya might need a sweet treat ’bout now.”
The sight of the cookies made Anna smile, and she reached for one. Sunbeams spilled through the two curtainless windows near the table, making the kitchen quite cheery, and she noted that the room had been updated with white painted cupboards and woodwork since she and her family had visited here several Christmases ago. For the annual play at the Amish schoolhouse . . .
Cousin Sadie offered her iced tea, too, and when Anna politely accepted, Sadie brought over two empty tumblers and set them on the table before joining Anna. Not wasting any time, she asked about Anna’s phone conversation with Evelyn Leaman.
“It went well. In fact, I have an interview scheduled for nine o’clock tomorrow morning.” Anna could hardly say it without feeling like she might burst with anticipation.
“I’m sure it’ll go fine.” Sadie nodded as she pushed her white Kapp strings over her shoulders.
“Denki for saying so.” Anna took a bite of the soft, warm cookie, thankful for this chance to catch her breath. The trip here had been a bit unnerving, as she’d never driven such a distance by herself.
Sadie poured some iced meadow tea into each tumbler and offered one to Anna. “Something to wet your whistle.”
“I know I’m repeating myself, but it was really kind of you to think of me for this job possibility. And I couldn’t help noticing what you said in your letter about believing that God prompted you to write to me.”
“Jah, it was quite unexpected.” Sadie explained that she’d heard about the job opening at Preaching service and immediately thought of Anna. “You kept comin’ to mind after that, so it seemed like the Lord had put you on my heart.”
“Well, you should know that the moment I read your letter, I felt like it was the chance I’ve been praying for.”
Sadie smiled and went on to ask about Anna’s parents and siblings.
Quickly, Anna filled her in on her family back home, including Mammi Eliza’s steady decline.
Sadie’s eyes were full of understanding. “Ach, poor Eliza. And I s’pose it was hard for your parents, sayin’ good-bye an’ all, considering you’re the baby of the family.”
“It’s only a visit for now. And Strasburg’s not too awful far from Mifflinburg. Just under two hours by car,” Anna said. She thought of the parting with her parents, especially Mamm, whose tears had welled up despite her reassuring smile. “I’ll return home for more clothes if I get the job, so either way, I’ll see them again soon no matter what comes of my interview tomorrow. I also want to stay in close touch with Mammi Eliza. Did you know she spent a summer in Strasburg many years ago? Stayed with her widowed great-aunt.”
Cousin Sadie reached for another cookie. “She was just a youth, if I have it right.” She paused to chew. “I got this secondhand, though—it happened before I was born.”
“It wonders me why she would’ve left Mifflinburg for the whole summer,” Anna said, thinking that surely Cousin Sadie knew that, like much of Mamm’s family, Mammi Eliza had been raised Beachy Amish, while Sadie’s own family had always been Old Order. Mammi’s great-aunt wouldn’t have considered her Amish at all, just as the Old Order around us don’t accept my family as Amish, either, she thought, knowing this from having grown up close to the more traditional Amish.
“She might’ve come here to help her aunt with produce and canning and whatnot. Or maybe she needed a change of scenery, like we all do from time to time.” Sadie eyed Anna.
“Could be.” Anna wondered once more why Mammi Eliza had seemed to become more alert at the mention of Strasburg. She must have strong memories of her days here. . . .
“It was a long time ago,” Sadie said. “And it wasn’t talked about.”
Anna perked up at this but didn’t respond, even though she was very curious.
Sadie’s blue-gray eyes twinkled. “Just know that Glen and I are delighted to have you with us for whatever time we have together this summer. And, the Good Lord willin’, things might just work out for that job.”
“Whatever happens will be the right thing.”
“I daresay you’re wise beyond your years.” Sadie folded her hands over her pudgy middle and looked across the table with a sweet expression. “’Tis refreshing.”
Anna felt at ease with Sadie, just as Mamm had assured her she would. In fact, if anything, Sadie was more cheerful and easygoing than Anna had remembered, though one wouldn’t think it to look at her—the simple subdued attire seemed to indicate otherwise.
Chapter 3
The next morning, Anna rose before dawn, reached for a light switch out of habit, and smiled to herself as she went to the oak dresser across the room to turn on the battery-powered lamp. A hand mirror lay beside it, and she used it to look at herself, hoping against hope that this day would be filled with good news. Then, going to kneel at the double bed covered with a handmade summer-weight quilt, she prayed as she always did before beginning her day.
Later, after Anna had also read a chapter from the New Testament, she washed up and dressed for the upcoming interview, then checked her text messages. She was glad to see one from Mamm, who was thankful she had arrived safely. Then, going downstairs, she offered to help Cousin Sadie make breakfast. Anna also greeted Cousin Glen, who had returned from helping his son Luke with the morning chore of feeding and watering seventy-five turkeys. Glen was seated at the table in his black suspenders and a dark blue shirt, his graying beard long and thin. A large leather Bible lay inches from his placemat.
“It’s another beautiful day, ain’t?” Glen said as she brought over a bowl of peach yogurt and a loaf of homemade sweet bread on a small tray. “We pray it’s a gut day for you, Anna.”
The Stone Wall Page 2
