One of those Tuesdays, Eliza spotted Nellie, her aunt’s cousin and neighbor, riding past in her family buggy. This seemed peculiar, considering it was the time of day when most Amishwomen were cooking supper, but Eliza smiled and waved cordially all the same. She’s not seein’ anything to report, Eliza thought, watching as Nellie’s buggy headed down the road. Besides, there’s nothing to tattle about!
TUESDAY, AUGUST 31, 1948
By the last Tuesday in August, the tone of Eb’s letters began to change. He asked her to attend his Preaching service, and while he had written this casually before, there was a marked determination now.
“I can’t miss going to the Beachy meetinghouse on the Lord’s Day,” she muttered to herself on the back porch, knowing she must go in and set the table for supper. Old Order though she is, Aunt Joanna would be in the phone shanty calling my parents right away if I tried that. But even worse was realizing that it would likely be the end of Eb’s and her friendship.
Sitting there on one of the porch rockers, Eliza scribbled a few lines back to him at the bottom of his note, deciding to take it to the stone wall later tonight, even though she’d already left a note for today. I cannot give him a speck of hope, she mused, shaking her head.
Then, hearing her great-aunt calling to her, she slipped the note into her dress pocket and hurried inside.
She left the house right after she redded up the kitchen for her aunt, who was settling down with the Good Book. Eliza had said she was going for a walk and would be right back. Her aunt glanced at her over her eyeglasses, her brows raised, but said not a word.
“I won’t be but a few minutes,” Eliza said.
“All right, then.”
Running toward the stone wall, Eliza hoped Joanna wouldn’t contact Dat and Mamma, but she worried all the same.
At the stone wall, she was startled to see Eb standing behind the tall tree, the letter she’d placed there that afternoon in his hand.
“What’re ya doin’ here?” she asked.
He frowned. “How’s that any way to greet your friend?”
“Just mighty surprised to see ya.”
“Well, I got tied up workin’ with my Dat and just now came lookin’ for your note.” He held it up. “I should be askin’ what you’re doing here twice in one day.”
Now she smiled. “You’re right.” She handed him the note where she’d answered at the bottom.
He opened it, and seeing his own handwriting, he asked, “Are ya giving it back?”
“Look after you signed off.”
“You wrote me a PS?” He grinned.
“I doubt you’ll like it much,” she said, moving closer to point out where she’d written her answer to his invitation.
He read it, folded it, and pushed it into his pants pocket. “I’m gonna be frank with ya.” He paused. “We’ve been foolin’ ourselves, Eliza. I like you as much more than a friend.”
Her muscles tensed. And here she was, coming to end his romantic hopes.
“Truth is, I want to openly court ya,” Eb said, “for all the People to see. But to do that, you’d have to join my church.”
She should have guessed this. And hearing him talk so made her eyes well up. “I wish I could, but . . .”
He reached for her hand, and she stepped behind the tree with him, hidden from the road. “By now, you must know how I feel ’bout ya.”
She nodded as he drew her slowly into his arms.
“I don’t want to make trouble for ya,” he whispered, holding her near. “Never.”
“It’s impossible for us to be together,” she said, aware of the tenderness of his affection, her face against his chest. How she loved being wrapped in his embrace!
Ever so reluctantly, she stepped back. Eb looked at her with the dearest expression and, to her surprise, leaned forward to kiss her cheek.
Eliza’s heart pounded, and in that moment, she remembered having told her aunt that she would be right back. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stay,” she said, telling him why.
Eb reached for her again.
“I must go.” She shook her head. “I’m truly sorry.”
“I’ll write to you tonight an’ leave it here for you tomorrow, okay?” he said.
How she longed to return to Eb’s strong arms, to forget how sad she felt when they were apart. It was all she could think about, but she forced herself to walk away, lest her aunt come looking for her and Eliza be found out.
Chapter 45
Anna was hanging out the washing on the clothesline the following Monday when Marianna walked over to invite her to Preaching service this coming Sunday. Momentarily taken aback, Anna couldn’t help but remember that it was also Gabe’s church.
“A little birdie suggested I invite ya,” Marianna said, running her fingers across her lips. “And for the fellowship meal afterward.”
Was that bird Sadie? Anna wondered.
Still a bit startled, she said, “Well, I do attend my own church in Bird-in-Hand.”
Marianna nodded. “I know, but I thought you might be interested in our bishop’s approach to sermons. It’s not like the majority of Old Order services.”
“What are the differences?”
“Well, for one thing, our ministers use the Pennsylvania Dutch Bible, ’specially the New Testament, for all the Scripture readings and sermons.”
Anna was surprised. “How long have they done this?”
“Oh, a few years now.” Marianna explained that the change had been prompted by the fact that their youth had not understood the readings from the German Biewel.
Anna pondered this, still not giving an answer.
“You can think about it,” Marianna said with a smile. “Preachin’ will be held at the farmhouse at Peaceful Meadows. I believe ya know the way.”
It was obvious Marianna really wanted her to go.
“My car would stick out like a sore thumb,” Anna offered as a rather weak excuse.
Marianna smiled again. “Ach, no need to worry. If ya don’t want to ride with Sadie and Glen, Sadie and I will watch for ya, show ya where to line up with the other visitors and unbaptized youth in the back.”
“I shouldn’t promise,” Anna said, still trying to fathom the possible reason for this unexpected invitation.
“If you’re concerned ’bout fitting in with the womenfolk as far as dress and whatnot, I guarantee you will,” Marianna said encouragingly. She waved and went back to the main farmhouse, her long dress swishing through the grass.
Intrigued, Anna’s mind whirled at the prospect as she warmed up to the idea.
Maybe I should go, just this once. . . .
Anna enjoyed her Friday morning drive to Gabe and Emmie’s house. All the autumn colors were competing for superiority; even shrubs that were ordinary-looking all year long were decorated in beautiful hues that dominated the scenery.
Today she had remembered to bring along an old blanket, which Sadie had gladly donated to “cozy up” Emmie’s tree house. And because the weather was turning warmer than Anna had expected, she and Emmie only had to wear sweaters again, like last Friday.
Emmie had brought along a book of her own for Anna to read up high in the midst of the orange, leafy canopy. And looking at the front page of My Bible Friends, Anna noticed an inscription from Emmie’s mother, who’d also written the date. Feeling a twinge of sadness again for Emmie, Anna quickly moved on to the first story and began to read.
When she had finished reading, Anna suggested they climb back down and have some sliced apples and popcorn. Emmie nodded, and they headed to the house.
Recalling the conversation with Gabe about her stovetop popcorn, Anna made enough for the three of them while telling Emmie more Bible stories from memory. The child’s eyes brightened when hearing about little baby Moses being discovered in a basket in the bulrushes and adopted by Pharaoh’s daughter. And Anna found her heart touched once more by this dear little girl without a mother.
Anna ended up taki
ng her car to Gabe’s uncle’s farmhouse at Peaceful Meadows, where Preaching service was being held that Lord’s Day morning. The round pen was especially quiet as she drove in to park, and fields of stubble where soybeans had been harvested caused her to think of her brother Wayne, who planted a big soybean crop of his own every spring. From thoughts of him, she began to ponder how Dat and Mamm would react to her attending an Old Order Amish Preaching service. Would they be terribly upset? She knew they would only want her to be baptized into the fellowship back home if she was ready to promise faithfulness to God and to the Beachy Amish church. Yet how will I know for sure if I don’t visit other churches? she wondered.
Getting out of the car, she saw many buggies already parked and noticed Marianna and Sadie discreetly waving her over toward the line of women, children, and babies, all of them waiting to go into the temporary house of worship.
Little Emmie smiled broadly when she and her aunt Barbara spotted Anna. Then Marianna, holding Baby Jimmy, led Anna toward the back of the line. “I’ll sit with ya during the fellowship meal following the service,” she whispered.
Though Anna didn’t quite know why, she felt unexpectedly emotional during the congregational singing, even though she wasn’t familiar with the melody and didn’t recognize all of the German words in the old hymnal, the Ausbund. Even so, there was something about the intense fervor with which the People sang the songs of the Anabaptist martyrs that tugged at her heartstrings.
There were two sermons, and the second one was based on Philippians chapter two, with an emphasis on verse eight: “‘And being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.’”
The middle-aged minister spoke of how Christ had demonstrated humility in order to prove his obedience to the Father. “Our Lord wasn’t afraid to plead for the cup of suffering to be removed from Him, but when it became clear that His Father’s plan required death upon a cross, Jesus was willing to be obedient, surrendering His will,” the well-spoken preacher stated. “From this, we can see that meekness and obedience are essential in our own lives. Because without humility, we cannot have obedience, nor the other way around.”
Anna thought about her predicament over Mart and Gabe in the context of this idea of surrender. Had she submitted her will fully to God’s? She sighed, wanting to humble herself and spend even more time in prayer.
Listening more intently now, Anna was grateful for this inspired message from God’s Word. Thankful, too, that she had come on this particular Sunday.
———
After the deacon’s benediction, the womenfolk and children headed outdoors to the backyard—except the women assigned to help set out the light meal on the tables. Anna was happy to walk around following the three-hour-long service, unaccustomed to that, but as she recalled how little Emmie had sat so quietly without fidgeting, it didn’t seem right to complain.
Barbara Mast waved and walked over with Emmie to suggest they go out to the calf pens to see the new calves. Three more of Barbara’s young nieces came running just then, all of them hugging Emmie and surrounding her before they headed toward the pens. Anna went along, as well, and while they stood and admired one of the newest calves, Emmie slipped her hand into Anna’s.
Smiling down at her, Anna wanted to lean over and hug her, but she settled for squeezing Emmie’s hand.
“Well, just look at you,” Barbara said, grinning at Anna, blue eyes sparkling.
Emmie’s become very attached to me, thought Anna as she and Emmie ambled to the next calf pen, Emmie not letting go.
When Gabe came looking for Emmie, his eyes widened upon seeing Anna. But he did not comment as Emmie continued to cling to Anna’s hand, walking in step with her. It was apparent that Gabe wanted to come over and talk with her, but this wasn’t the time or the place.
Hours later, after the fellowship meal, where Sadie and Marianna introduced her to dozens of welcoming womenfolk, Anna returned home, her heart warm but feeling ever more conflicted.
Sadie waited till Anna had slipped over next door to help Marianna with the little ones that afternoon before she went to sit in the front room with Glen. “I’ve been thinking ’bout this for a while now,” she began, mentioning having seen Gabe looking at Anna before the fellowship meal. “And today, we were all out admiring the calvies, but it was as if Gabe wasn’t seein’ anyone or anything but Anna.”
Glen smiled her way. “You’d like the two of them to get together, I’m a-thinkin’.”
“Ain’t so much that . . . although it would be right nice.” She went on to tell Glen that Emmie had been holding Anna’s hand.
“Well, the man’s not gonna just choose a mother figure for his little girl, remember,” Glen said. “Not the Gabe I know.”
“Nee.”
“He’s schmaert and wise, too. He’ll marry for love, pure and simple.”
“Jah, true,” Sadie said, pondering this. “Anna’s parents might need to meet Gabe at some point, if he starts spending more time alone with her.”
“Might be just what’s needed.” Glen reached for his copy of Die Botschaft and flipped through the pages to an article he had been reading earlier. “Come to think of it, Alvin Beachy reads this periodical, too. He told me so last time they were here, round Christmas.”
“Well, how ’bout that.” Sadie perked up.
“We discussed how the scribes from here in Lancaster County and the ones there in Mifflinburg write similar things in their columns. Least it seemed like that to us.”
Sadie caught herself nodding in agreement. “There’s really only a small difference ’tween their church district an’ ours, as I see it.”
“Aside from the cars and electric, which is big!” Glen added.
She thought on that, realizing how readily Anna had acclimated herself to living without electric lights and other conveniences here in their home. Of course, Anna’s car might be a big hurdle. . . .
But Sadie was getting way ahead of herself.
Chapter 46
TUESDAY, AUGUST 31, 1948
Eliza’s great-aunt was sitting out on the back porch as Eliza scurried up the steps.
“You were gone longer than you said,” her aunt stated.
“I’m sorry . . . forgot the time.”
Nodding slowly, her aunt fixed her gaze on Eliza. “I s’pose you went to meet your so-called friend.”
Eliza gulped and reached for the handrail.
“The Lord despises deceitfulness.”
Eliza wondered how on earth she knew about the chance meeting with Eb.
“I walked up to where I suspected you were. And for pity’s sake, such goin’s on, and right out where anyone could see,” her aunt said.
Eliza hung her head in shame. Being with Eb like that had thrilled her at first, but terrified her now that she pondered it. “I just want to go home to my family,” she pleaded, her voice breaking. “I need to go home!”
“Gut thing, ’cause I went and phoned your parents.” Her aunt mentioned how she’d hobbled out to the little shanty to make the call. “I’ve just gotten back, in fact.”
Eliza couldn’t bear to stand there and have her wrongdoings recited, not now. “I best be going to my room,” she murmured, excusing herself.
“Your parents will fetch ya in the mornin’” were the last words Eliza heard as she reached for the screen door and stumbled inside.
Falling across the bed, Eliza wept bitterly in this room that had been hers since mid-May. Three and a half months of venturing onto a path of friendship with Eb Lapp had led to this. Such joy . . . and now, such sadness.
Eliza wept for her trickery against Great-aunt Joanna, and her parents, too. And she realized that her poor choices proved she was too young to make a decision about anything so serious as love.
No, she must leave here willingly and set him free to court a girl amongst his own People. That would also spare her parents and her family the heartache she herself
was suffering this night.
Thinking of it now, Eliza wished she had told Eb not to waste time writing another letter. All the same, he wouldn’t have understood.
Eb has no inkling he’ll never see me again. With that thought, she rolled over onto the pillow to muffle her moans.
Eliza sat in the back seat of her father’s car as he drove her away from Strasburg the next morning, past Yost and Nellie Petersheim’s farm, where she’d gone to purchase eggs so many times, and past Eb’s parents’ home farther up the road.
She stared out the window and wondered what the point was of having a friendship, forbidden as it was, with Ebenezer. In the end, what purpose had it served?
She shook her head as big tears rolled down her cheeks.
Chapter 47
Anna was occupied with several tours on Monday, but between clients, she contemplated yesterday’s Old Order Preaching service and Gabe and Emmie’s obvious affection for her. How was she going to handle that when pulling back now might break little Emmie’s heart? And what about Gabe’s heart?
Each workday that week, Anna’s thoughts revolved around her own growing friendship with Gabe that had started so innocently and now was at the place where he was showing constant interest in her.
Thursday, between tours, Mart mentioned that he would be busy the next two weekends helping with the harvest and filling silo. He really didn’t have to tell her this, since they didn’t have a standing Friday-night date. But the thought crossed her mind that he must care about her at least a little to make a point of letting her know.
But who do I care for more?
On Friday morning, while Anna helped Sadie make breakfast before she left to see Emmie, she brought up the differences in her church and their own. “I’ve often wondered why churches differ in the focus of their preaching or what’s allowed, when really, our Lord and Savior loves all of His children equally. We’re all called into His family and fellowship,” she said.
The Stone Wall Page 24
