Amish Love Saves All

by Rachel Stoltzfus

“Ach. Well, she was the only fly in the ointment when it came to Amos and me. Well, other than his heart. But we knew as soon as we got his diagnosis that it would be just a matter of time.”

  This time, Beth couldn’t hold her tears back. She missed her daed so much! Plus, her ribs were really sore and she felt horrible. “I’m sorry, Mamm. I just miss Daed and I feel so sick.”

  “Let’s go to bed, girl. That’s the best thing for us right now—sleep.”

  The two women trudged slowly up the stairs so they wouldn’t stimulate more coughing. In her bedroom, Beth removed her robe and lifted her gown. Looking at her ribs, she grimaced, seeing the bruise already beginning to bloom. She remembered how kind and gentle John had been at first—even if he seemed moody or angry at unpredictable times. His moods had served to keep her off balance. Of course, now she knew this. If I could only predict when he’s going to be in one of his moods!

  Sitting on her bed and sliding under the covers, Beth leaned against her pillow. She remembered the first time John struck her. They were coming home after the singing. It was supposed to be a celebration. They had been seeing each other—or “courting,” as John still called it—for one year. Beth noticed he had been almost angry most of the evening. He wouldn’t talk about it. But he said he wanted to spend more time with her after leaving the singing. She told him that she needed to be home right away because she was going...wait! Beth finally made the mental connection.

  Every time she had work hours scheduled, he would get moody. It was her work the whole time! Her mind slowly took her back to that first time John had hit her. She had told him she had early working hours the next day, and he didn’t like that. “I’m supposed to be your focus!” He practically screamed in her face. Then, his fist hit her arm, hard. She nearly fell out of his buggy. He grabbed her before she fell, and she was grateful...she thought. But he hit her again—this time in her stomach.

  Beth came home and threw up almost in the hallway. She told her mamm that she ate something that disagreed with her. My Gott! He’s serious! He doesn’t want me to work. She wasn’t an able enough quilter, so she couldn’t do that from home. She wished she had the courage to stop seeing him. Resting her hot forehead on her fisted palms, Beth began crying quietly.

  The next day, her temperature was normal. Aside from some weakness, she felt normal again. “Mamm, how do you feel?”

  “Much better, denki! I just feel weak. Breakfast will help with that now that we can eat. Eggs and oatmeal, I think, with toast. Coffee?”

  “Ya! I am so hungry!” But Beth was only able to eat a portion of what she normally ate. “I am so full. Are we ready to go now? We have to clock in soon.”

  “Ya. Let’s just wash and dry the dishes. Why are you moving so carefully?”

  Beth had been favoring her left side after being punched so hard the night before. “I don’t know. Maybe I sneezed or coughed so hard that I pulled something.” She now felt free to place her hand against her bruised ribs.

  “Just be careful in the diner. You don’t want to stress that any more.”

  “Nee!” Beth dried the dishes as her mamm washed and rinsed them.

  As they drove to the diner, Beth froze just slightly; she saw John in his daed’s wagon. Turning away from the sight, she prayed he wouldn’t see her. She knew she couldn’t say anything to her mamm. I’ll figure out a way of getting him out of my life. For gut. Glancing in the direction John had been traveling, she let out a silent breath—he hadn’t spotted them.

  “Mamm? When Daed got upset at you, how did he express it?” She held her breath, hoping her mamm wouldn’t figure out what had been happening.

  “Did you and John have a disagreement? This is common with couples who are getting to know each other.” Her mamm seemed to be thinking back to her own courting days. “Well, our first disagreement was over whether I would work. He wanted me to stay at home and take care of the house and kinder. But he told me that, if we needed for me to work, he wouldn’t stand in my way. In fact, after he took sick, he was the one who found out about the cook’s position at the diner. He told me about it. ‘You’d be perfect for it. Your roasts, chicken and vegetables top anyone else’s in the community. And your desserts!’ While I didn’t feel very confident about my shoofly pie, he did. This was right before he had to stop working as a farrier. So the timing was just right. I applied and got the job.” Her voice softened as she seemed to remember taking the job and, over the next year, seeing her husband’s condition worsen. “He died a year later.”

  “I... I remember.” Beth’s voice was choked. “He loved you so much. And he supported my working as well. Do you think he did so because he could no longer work?”

  “Partly, ya. But he was always somewhat forward thinking. While he would have preferred for me to stay at home, it didn’t bother him that I liked working.”

  Beth remembered the scene at the Miller’s several weeks earlier. “Ya. I thinking of the Lapps. Mister Lapp nearly killed Missus Lapp. Didn’t he go into some kind of mental health place?”

  Mrs. Zook thought for a few seconds. “Ya, something operated by both the Amish and Mennonites. At least he won’t be made to give up his faith.”

  She shifted her position on the buggy seat, trying to ease the pain in her ribs. I hope they aren’t broken. He hit me hard enough. As the morning wore on, it became harder and harder for Beth to hide her pain. Finally, just before she took her lunch, the diner’s owner called her into her office. “Beth, you’re obviously in pain. What’s going on?”

  Beth couldn’t lie without being called out on it. Shifting on the kitchen chair in the small office, she opened and closed her mouth before speaking. “I...was hit in my ribs last night. My boyfriend.” She flushed with shame. “Please don’t tell my mamm!”

  The owner, an older, kindly Mennonite woman, opened her eyes in shock. “Beth! You need to be seen by the doctor! I’ll send you—”

  “I’ll go, but please, Ann, don’t tell Mamm!”

  “Beth, I’ll keep your secret on one condition. You tell your mamm.” She waited until Beth nodded slowly. “Now, go. I’ll call my doctor. He’s the soul of discretion. Oh, and you need to make it clear to your boyfriend that physical violence against women is wrong, period. Promise?”

  “Ya. Thank you. Can I come to work tomorrow? We need the money for bills.”

  “Only if you don’t have broken ribs and can hold heavy trays of dishes.” Ann stood. “Now, I have daughters of my own. Unpin your dress. I want to see the damage for myself.”

  Beth looked with longing at the door, just wanting to escape. With reluctance, she unpinned her dress and opened it, exposing the large, ugly bruise to Ann’s view.

  “Oh, my! You will be very fortunate if you don’t have at least one broken rib.”

  Beth swallowed hard, trying not to cry. “What will you tell my mamm? She’ll see that I’m not here.”

  “That I sent you to run an errand for me. I’m not lying.” Ann quickly phoned her doctor’s office. When the receptionist said that the office had two cancellations, she spoke. “I’m sending my employee, Beth Zook. She needs her ribs X-rayed. They may be broken.”

  “Do you want us to send the bill to you?”

  “Ya, please.” Hanging up, she smiled softly at Beth. “Okay, they have a cancellation and can see you in twenty minutes. Doctor Stone’s office. You know where it is?”

  Beth thought. “Ya, over on Second, right?” She finished pinning her dress up.

  “Ya. That’s the one. When you’re done, come back and give me the report. If you don’t have broken ribs, you can work the rest of today and this week. Otherwise...”

  Not for the first time, Beth felt a strong anger toward John. “Denki.” Turning, she hurried out.

  ***

  At the doctor’s office, she was carefully examined. As the doctor ran her fingers over Beth’s ribs, she flinched. Finally, she was taken to the X-ray department.

  “Okay, Miss Zook. No broken b
ones, but you definitely have some strong bruising there. Take ibuprofen every four to six hours and apply an ice pack. How did this happen?”

  Beth’s lips were paper-dry. Licking them, she inhaled carefully. Looking at the middle-aged doctor, she noticed her blue eyes were alert and sharp. She decided to tell the truth. “My boyfriend got mad at me last night. He...”

  “Hit you. Do you know that whether a couple is married or not, that qualifies as violence? And it’s wrong. I don’t want to pry, but what made him mad?”

  “He doesn’t want me to keep working at the diner. I’m a server there. My mamm is a cook.”

  “Wait a minute...Zook. Your dad was Amos, right?”

  Beth’s chin wobbled as she nodded. “Ya.”

  “I remember now. So, you and your mother need to work to bring money in. Have you explained this to your boyfriend?”

  “Many times. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t believe that women need to be working outside the home. I could quilt, I guess, but I earn more money faster by working as a server.”

  The doctor sighed. “You know that I need to report this to the state of Pennsylvania, right? I won’t use names. But I’m required by state law to report every case of violence against a family member or an intimate partner.”

  “We have never been—”

  “Intimate? That doesn’t matter. I still have to report it. You can work, but I want you to tell your mother what happened.”

  Beth nodded. “I will.” Just not right away.

  ***

  Naomi sat in the back of her mother’s store with Eli Yoder. “I want to see women be free to work outside the home. You know, sometimes their family circumstances make that necessary. Someone like Missus Hershberger for instance. Amy was widowed two years ago in that accident, remember?” At Eli’s nod, she continued. “The only way she can make money for her and her kinder is to operate a corn maze in the fall and sell baked goods, hot chocolate or lemonade to the English tourists. Now that she’s seeing Andy Stoltzfus, he’s starting to give her trouble about quitting what she’s doing. Has anyone invited him to our meetings? He needs to know that because Amy is singlehandedly supporting her kinder, she can’t be away from her home for several hours every day. This is the only way she has to provide for them.”

  Eli nodded thoughtfully. Occasionally, he scribbled notes to himself. “I know who he is. He’s pretty traditional Amish, and I think he needs to be at our meetings. I’ll go and explain Missus Hershberger’s situation to him and invite him to start taking part in our meetings. I happened upon them last week as she was leaving the market. He was trying to argue with her so she would quit. He just doesn’t see that she has very little beyond what she earns from the tourists. He doesn’t like that she and her kinder are exposed to them five days a week. He raised his voice at her and was waving his arms around. Bishop Kurtz and Deacon King are meeting with him now.”

  ***

  In his barn, Andy Stoltzfus wore a look of confusion as he talked with Deacon King and Bishop Kurtz. “But allowing her to work is an abomination! Even worse, she is exposing her kinder to all of those English tourists, and who knows what ideas they are giving to Amy and her children?”

  “We need to worry much less about that than the very real possibility that Amy and her children would have no home if you were to be successful at making her quit giving tours of her farm. You do realize that since her husband’s untimely death three years ago, she is the only form of support for her family, right?”

  Andy could do little more than allow his mouth to hang open. “Uhhh...well, to tell you the truth, the only thing I was thinking of is the Ordnung.”

  “Okay, our Ordnung, as you know isn’t written. It’s all oral. But, if you think about the section governing families and work, there is nothing that says wives and young, unmarried women can’t work outside the home. Amy works at her home, bringing honest money in from tourists. She follows all our rules. Nothing in the Ordnung says she and her kinder can’t be around the English. She has assistants who work with her and they help with her children. The youngest ones don’t even see the tourists. So what is your worry, really?”

  “Just...that she’s violating the Ordnung in some way.” Andy’s large Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

  “Hannes, I’ll speak.” Bishop Kurtz knew just what he wanted to say. “You say ‘In some way.’ But you can’t say in what way, specifically. We have a peer counseling organization in Peace Valley. This group is made up of elders and Amish men and women who want to help people whose confusion and fear about women working have led to relationship issues. Now, you and Missus Hershberger aren’t married, but it isn’t unreasonable to think that won’t happen under different circumstances.

  If you rip away Amy’s only form of income, she won’t be very happy with you. She will begin to feel you are responsible for her loss of income...and of her home. While she and her departed husband had some money in savings before he was killed, she knows that money won’t last indefinitely. Therefore, given the young ages of her children, she has chosen to work from home, giving tours of an Amish farm to visitors who come to Peace Valley. Before she started, she came to see me with her idea and I explained to her exactly what she needed to do to start her home business and stay in complete compliance with the Ordnung. Did she tell you this?” The bishop was well aware that Amy had not explained her discussion with him.

  “Nee...well, no.”

  “And...why would that be?”

  Andy couldn’t speak. His throat had frozen, not allowing words to come out.

  After waiting for several seconds, the bishop spoke. “Is it because you never gave her an opportunity to explain what she did beforehand?”

  “Guhhh... Well, maybe. I was just...”

  “Ya, ‘concerned about the Ordnung.’ Andy, from this point forward, why don’t you allow the elders to do their work?”

  Andy flushed, feeling shamed. Not wanting the elders to see his emotions, he looked at the ground and scuffed one shoe along the ground. “Ya, I will.”

  The deacon broke back in. “Andy, before we leave, I want to get one piece of information from you and make an offer to you.”

  Andy nodded quickly.

  “Do you intend to propose marriage to Amy Hershberger in the future?”

  “Well, I do, ya. But... I want to make sure it’s right for both of us.”

  “Okay. You do that. Stop putting pressure on her. She can’t leave her home to work and she doesn’t want to bake or quilt. Finally, we have that group. I want to offer several sessions to you. Come to six of our meetings, try them out, and see what you learn.”

  “Hmmm. That’s all? Ya, sure.” Andy didn’t seem to be aware of what he was committing to.

  “There is one more thing. You know now that she has no other form of income. What she’s doing complies with the Ordnung of our community. Please, Andy, stop pressuring her to quit. You say want to continue your relationship with her. If she feels any additional pressure from you, she will stop courting with you. Do you understand?”

  Andy seemed to take a long time processing what the deacon was telling him. Slowly, he nodded. “Ya, ya, sure. Whatever.”

  Here, the bishop spoke. “Are you agreeing just so we’ll get off your back? Or because you truly understand that Missus Hershberger has no income other than what she brings in from the tourists?”

  “Bishop, please forgive me. But you are making me feel guilty for looking out for the safety of Amy’s soul...”

  “Ach! Now, I get it! You were only looking out for her soul! Hannes, that’s funny...I thought that was our role.”

  “Same here! Andy, if you have any concerns about anyone, you are to discuss them with that person one time. If they don’t change what they are doing, then you come to us and let us begin working with them. It’s for the bishop and me, along with our two ministers, to look out for the souls of everyone in Peace Valley. Understood? I’m concerned about your soul, too, if you a
re going to try and badger a young widow out of her sole source of income.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Andy flushed. Looking out his barn door, he sighed heavily. “Okay, ya. Whatever. I’ll stop. I just don’t like that she’s hobnobbing with the English.”

  “Andy, remember that she came to us. She asked us what would be permissible to do in starting her tourism business. She wanted to be sure that she wasn’t in violation of our Ordnung. I believe you’ve lived here from birth, meaning you know our Ordnung quite well, ya?”

  “Ya, Bishop, I really gotta get back to work.”

  “Okay, we’ll go now. But I want to see you at our next meeting. They are set up for people such as you, who have trouble understanding that the women in our community have the right to decide how they are going to make a living. As long as it doesn’t violate state law, federal law or our Ordnung, we are fine with their choices. There are some men, however, who believe they need to dictate how and what women can do. It looks like you fall into that group. If you want your relationship with Amy Hershberger to go well, you’ll back off and let her earn her money. Hannes? We should leave now.” Clapping his hat back on his head, Joseph strode out of the barn before he said something he knew he’d regret.

  ***

  At her farm, Amy Hershberger was finishing her baking, knowing that what she earned this weekend would allow her to pay off a big bill. “Anna, what are your brothers doing?”

  “Just playing outside. They’re in the yard.” Anna, at seven, was Amy’s assistant. She had been assigned the responsibility of checking out the door occasionally, and she took that seriously. “Mama, Mister Stoltzfus is coming into the yard!”

  Amy squeezed her tired eyes closed. She didn’t need this now! Sighing, she spoke. “Get your brothers inside and go into the far room downstairs. If you hear anything strange, you go to the phone house and call 911.”

  “Ya, Mama.” Running, Anna hurried to comply.

  At the loud knock on the door, Amy started. Covering the dough with a clean towel, she sighed. “Ya? Andy, I am very busy right now. I can’t—”