“That’s a gut thought,” Rose whispered. Even though Matthias seemed cheerful, the furrow between his eyebrows made her wonder if he might be keeping something from her.
Gracie gazed up at her, her expression troubled. “Is it okay if I say hi to Martha Maude and Anne, Mamma? Or do I gotta be quiet?”
Rose slung her arm around her daughter and pulled her close. What a shame it was when a little girl hesitated to show her affection for her grandmother and her great-grandmother, simply because the man of their family was upset by what she’d said a few days ago. “Let’s see how it is when we get there, sweet pea,” she murmured. “If they smile at you and open their arms, it means they really want to see you. And if they look sad or scared, maybe you should just smile at them and say a little prayer that things will get better because of tonight’s talk with the bishop.”
Gracie nodded, hugging her tablet of paper and the box of colored pencils to her chest. She seemed wise beyond her years, but Rose prayed that her daughter’s feelings wouldn’t be hurt by anything she would hear.
The trip to the Hartzler house didn’t take long. As Matthias drove up the long lane toward a large, well-kept white house, Rose gazed at the green pastureland dotted with black cattle, and at the abundance of dogwood and redbud trees just beyond the peak of their blooming season. “It’s so pretty here,” she murmured.
Matthias nodded as he pulled up beside two other buggies and horses already parked near the barn. “Saul’s done well with his carriage shop and those Black Angus cattle,” he said. “I wonder who’s here besides Jeremiah?”
Rose inhaled deeply again, smiling as Matthias stepped out of the buggy. He lifted Gracie out and then reached in to help her down. “Denki for coming to be with us,” she said. “Your presence will surely help everyone remain calm and considerate.”
Matthias’s gaze made butterflies flutter in Rose’s stomach as he kept his hands at her waist for a few extra moments. “Jeremiah asked me to be here—but for you, Rose, I would’ve come even if I hadn’t been invited.”
Rose wished her relationship to Anne hadn’t put Matthias’s partnership in possible jeopardy, but there was nothing she could do about that—Saul’s decision was beyond her control. When Matthias reached down for Gracie, she wrapped an arm around his neck while clutching her paper and colored pencils. He carried her against his hip as they started toward the house. They had almost reached the large front porch when Martha Maude stepped outside to greet them.
“Gracie, it’s gut to see you, honey—and don’t you look pretty in your new peach dress,” she said.
Gracie wiggled happily; and when Matthias set her on the porch floor, she raced into Martha Maude’s arms. “I brung my colored pencils so’s I’ll be real quiet,” she said as Martha Maude swung her up to her hip. “I’m gonna be a busy bee.”
“You’ll be the best girl ever,” Martha Maude affirmed. Her smile for Rose and Matthias was more reserved. “We’re all here now, and with Bishop Jeremiah and Bishop Vernon from Cedar Creek—and the gut Lord—to guide us, we’re in the best possible hands.”
Rose’s heartbeat accelerated as they all entered the large, comfortable house. Had Vernon come because she’d sounded so worried when she’d called him? As they passed through the beautiful kitchen into the front room, she felt more confident just knowing he was present—and it didn’t hurt that Martha Maude was carrying Gracie, either, as though her feelings toward the little girl hadn’t changed.
“Gut evening, Matthias and Rose and little Gracie!” Vernon exclaimed as he rose from an intricately carved rocking chair. “We’re pleased you’ve joined us—and if you’ve not met him, Rose, this is Jeremiah Shetler, bishop of the Morning Star district.”
Rose nodded at the tall, dark-haired man who stood to greet her. Jeremiah was a lot younger than Vernon, with a head of thick, dark hair just getting some gray at the temples. He had an air of calm authority about him—and his gracious smile was quite a contrast to the scowl on Saul’s face. Rose took in Saul’s glossy black hair and beard, his robust build—and the fine furnishings with which he’d filled his home—and she realized that if he would smile and acknowledge how blessed he was, he would be a very handsome man.
“Gut evening, Saul,” Rose murmured with the warmest smile she could manage. “I’ve prayed long and often that we might reconcile our differences this evening. God’s will be done.”
Saul grunted and looked toward the footsteps coming from one of the back rooms. Anne entered, appearing older and more fragile, her face pale with dark circles beneath her eyes. She smiled wanly at Rose and held out two Amish-style cloth dolls, a boy and girl, as she gazed at Gracie.
“I thought you might like some friends to play with while we grown-ups talk,” she said. “And we’ve got chocolate chip cookies for later, too.”
Gracie wiggled down from Martha Maude’s embrace. “We’ll all be real quiet,” she said as she tucked the dolls under her arm. “Can I sit in the kitchen and draw on the table?”
Rose’s heart swelled as Anne and Martha Maude accompanied Gracie to the kitchen and got her settled. Matthias was seated on an upholstered love seat near the fireplace, so she joined him. From where she sat, Vernon was at her right, Saul was in a large upholstered chair, and Jeremiah sat in the matching chair on the other side of a glossy walnut table. Anne and Martha Maude took their places on the remaining sofa.
The front room was quiet, except for the ticking of a large grandfather clock in the corner. As it struck the hour, Rose marveled at the elaborate song its music box played and then she counted the seven stately, sonorous chimes that made conversation impossible. Bong . . . bong . . . bong . . .
As the final chime died away, Jeremiah sat forward in his chair and gazed at each of them in turn. “Shall we pray?” he asked as he bowed his head. “Dear Lord, we request Your presence and Your guidance as we hold our important discussion this evening,” he said earnestly. “Grant us Your wisdom and Your peace as we seek Your will for the Hartzler family. Denki for Your love and forgiveness when we’ve gone astray and wandered from the path You would have us follow. Amen.”
They were just opening their eyes when Saul started in, his face growing ruddy and his tone terse. “To set the record straight, I resent the way we’re airing the family’s dirty laundry with strangers present,” he said, glaring at Rose. “I’m also displeased that Matthias has come, because he’s so deeply involved in this sordid situation that I have severed our partnership.”
Rose sucked in her breath. Matthias acknowledged this news with a rueful smile as he wrapped his hand around hers.
“And, Mother,” Saul continued vehemently, “I can’t believe the way you were clinging to that little girl as though—”
“As though she’s a member of our family?” Martha Maude challenged. One of her eyebrows rose as she gazed at her son, her voice as cool and calm as her demeanor. “You know, Saul, after two days when you’ve chosen not to be here except to sleep, I’ve had a lot of quiet time to think and pray. And you know what? This isn’t about you.”
Rose nearly choked. She had figured Martha Maude to be more outspoken than most Plain women, but she hadn’t anticipated the way this mother confronted her son. The two bishops were looking at one another as though they, too, were stunned by what Martha Maude had just said.
“So do I understand correctly, Saul, that you’ve spent your time—and eaten your meals—away from home since you and I talked?” Bishop Jeremiah asked. “It doesn’t sound as though you’ve made any effort to understand your wife’s situation, or to reconcile with her.”
Saul’s eyebrows shot up. “Don’t you see how it is?” he snapped. “With two women in the house, I barely get a word in edgewise—especially when they’ve banded together against me.”
“That’s not true, and you know it.” Anne’s voice shook with fear, yet her conviction rang true. “More often than not, you and your mother take up with each other and leave me out.”
> “I see that more clearly now,” Martha Maude agreed, “and I apologize, Anne. My son has not been at his best during these past two days. Frankly, his absence was much easier to take than his presence.”
Saul sat up very straight, his eyes narrowing. “And do you forget whose home you share, Mother? Do you not recall how I saw to the sale of the poor old farmhouse I grew up in, and brought you here to a better life after Dat died?”
“Puh,” Martha Maude said as she shook her head. “Your father made an honest living and he loved us with all his heart. You don’t take after him in some important ways—but again, this isn’t about you, Saul.” She smiled briefly at her daughter-in-law. “When Anne was forced to give up her baby, she was obeying her parents and following the Old Order ways by keeping the birth a strict secret. And I suspect the young fellow who got her in the family way refused to take responsibility.”
“He didn’t know,” Anne murmured. “We loved each other—I intended to marry him—but I was naïve . . . about how babies were made, among other things.”
Saul coughed as though preparing to launch into another lecture—until Martha Maude rose from her chair. She stared at him until he met her gaze. “I heard you accuse your wife of holding out on you, not giving you children, so I should point out that you, too, are probably a victim of some Old Order ways.”
The room got very quiet. Rose glanced at the faces around the room, noting the wary surprise in her mother’s eyes and the patient, interested wisdom Vernon and Jeremiah exuded as they witnessed this exchange between mother and son.
Saul could stand the suspense no longer. “How’s that?” he finally muttered. “Far as I can recall, you and Dat were faithful, model Amish parents, even if you could never seem to get ahead.”
Martha Maude smiled gently. “Remember how your dat refused to go to the doctor when he was sick? And remember when you were a young scholar, and you became terribly ill with a high fever—and we kept you out of school for nearly two weeks?” She pressed her lips together as though this memory still bothered her. “Because your father wouldn’t let me take you to the clinic, I suspect that nasty fever destroyed your ability to father children. A midwife I know says she’s heard of such a thing happening.”
Saul sprang from his chair, glaring at his mother. “Why on God’s gut earth must you reveal such personal—hurtful—in-formation in front of all these other people?” he demanded. “This is an outrage!”
“Maybe so,” Martha Maude put in, “but for all these years, you’ve blamed Anne for your childless marriage. Now that Rose has appeared, you must face a different truth.” She held Saul’s gaze when he appeared ready to protest again. “Sometimes it’s the unexpected details that bring us to our knees. Goliath might’ve been a giant, but a tiny stone felled him.”
* * *
Rose gripped Matthias’s fingers. It was embarrassing, yet liberating, to hear the reason that this large home had never rung with the laughter of children—and to learn why Anne and Saul had no grandchildren by now. Her heart ached for her mother, even as she watched understanding dawn on Anne’s pale face.
“That doesn’t change the fact that Anne sinned with another man, and she never admitted it to me,” Saul retorted.
“And I heard you tell her—in no uncertain terms—that you wouldn’t have even considered marrying her, had you known about her past. Think of the years of happiness you—and I—would’ve missed.” Martha Maude crossed her arms beneath her ample bosom, not nearly finished with what she had to say. “Again, Anne was following Plain customs when she gave up her baby and kept quiet about it. Do you think she hasn’t suffered every single day since she gave away her only child? Do you think she hasn’t been sorely disappointed that you’ve given her no children to fill the hole in her heart?”
Rose let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Never had she expected to witness this frank discussion between mother and son, nor Martha Maude’s impassioned, unconditional support of her daughter-in-law. A sense of hope wrapped around her heart, and she could see that Anne seemed amazed and relieved as well.
“I’ve done a lot of soul-searching while you’ve stayed away, son,” Martha Maude continued in a lighter tone. “Remember how, in the Bible, Saul persecuted Christians until the Lord knocked him down and blinded him to get his attention?” she asked with a knowing smile. “The day you were born, I sensed you had a defiant streak—like your namesake, Saul—and I figured that someday a major, life-altering encounter would take you down a peg or two. Well, here it is.”
Saul appeared ready to argue again, but this time he turned his back on his mother and the rest of them.
Martha Maude cleared her throat. “If you can forgive Anne, you might enjoy welcoming Rose and her delightful little girl into your workaholic world, my son. Lord knows we could use a heaping helping of grace in this family.”
Near tears, Rose glanced toward the kitchen. She wasn’t surprised to see Gracie peering at them from the doorway, her face alight with curiosity as she clutched a doll and some pieces of paper. Bless her, she’d been so quiet and well behaved. When Matthias crooked his finger, Gracie hurried across the front room as though she’d been invited to a party. She crawled into Matthias’s lap, smiling at Rose, but remaining quiet as the conversation continued.
Jeremiah rested his elbows on his knees, tenting his hands as he looked at Anne. “Do you have anything to add? You’ve remained quiet while we’ve taken in what your husband and his mother have discussed, but I believe your story has remained untold for long enough.”
Anne licked her lips, holding the bishop’s gaze. “As I mentioned to Saul the other night, I gave birth to Rose while I was still in my rumspringa,” she said softly. “When I joined the church a year later, I believed that God had washed my sins clean with the blood of Jesus our Savior, and that I no longer carried the guilt of my sin. I rested in the comfort that my child was being raised by a faithful couple who longed for a child they couldn’t have.”
She paused, glancing at Rose as she considered her next words. “Maybe I shouldn’t have written those letters to you, Rose,” she said in a quavering voice. “But I wanted you to know how much I loved you.”
Rose sniffled and swiped at tears. “You and Mamma both told me not to look for you, and I tried to abide by your wishes—but it seems God had a different idea when you came into the senior center that first time.”
“Jah, He did,” Martha Maude put in.
“And what a blessing it is that Rose has come into your lives again, quite unexpectedly,” Bishop Vernon said. He scooted forward in his chair, smiling at the Hartzler women. “Anne, I was pleased that you—back when you were known as Roseanne—could stay with Myron and Lydia Fry long enough to wean your child, and that you didn’t want Rose to find you when she grew up. I, too, insisted that Rose never needed to know she was adopted. However—”
Vernon paused for effect, as he sometimes did in his sermons, until Saul turned to see why he’d grown silent. “However, I’ve changed my mind,” the bishop continued, his blue eyes twinkling. “Seeing the sweetness of little Gracie being held by her great-grandmother and welcomed by her grandmother, I’m reminded that Jesus insisted that little children be allowed to come to Him. The Bible also tells us that in God’s peaceable kingdom, all His creatures will coexist without jealousy or hatred or separation, and a little child will lead them.”
“A little child has led us to this moment—even if what she said has caused us some discomfort this week,” Rose whispered, gently stroking Gracie’s cheek. “And I’m glad.”
“Jah, me too,” Anne put in, sounding much more confident now.
Saul was following this discussion with a doubtful expression. “So now I’m hearing that Anne isn’t even your real name?” he demanded. Saul sounded quieter, less confrontational.
Anne met his gaze. “Roseanne was my given name. But when I gave away my Rose, half of my heart—and half my name—stayed with her,
” she explained calmly. “I apologize for keeping yet another secret, fearing you wouldn’t understand it. Will you please forgive me for this, Saul, and for keeping my daughter a secret?”
When Saul appeared ready to protest, Bishop Jeremiah spoke first. “It’s the issue of separation that concerns me most,” he began. “It warms my heart to hear you speak of forgiveness and unconditional love, Martha Maude, because your son came to my house Wednesday evening, demanding that I shun his wife outright.”
Martha Maude’s mouth fell open. Rose sucked in her breath. It was unheard of to shun a member of the Amish church without first giving that person a chance to confess to the bishop—and then confess before the entire congregation if he thought it was necessary. No one member could order another member to be shunned. It was a decision of the entire congregation.
“What were you thinking?” Martha Maude demanded in a low voice. “You’re a deacon of the church, yet you’ve taken it upon yourself to pass judgment and order punishment without anyone else’s input? I raised you better than that, Saul.”
Saul had the sense to appear sheepish as his mother glared at him. “Okay, so I was upset,” he muttered.
“Your wife has also asked you to forgive her,” Vernon pointed out with a nod at Anne. “Forgiveness is a two-sided gift. The one who requests forgiveness is admitting a need for it, while the person who grants forgiveness has freed his own soul of any lingering doubt or distrust.”
“And once a person has asked another for this gift of forgiveness,” Bishop Jeremiah continued, “he or she deserves an answer. Forgiveness is not a one-sided situation that leaves the requester hanging until her accuser gets around to a response. It is an urgent, sincere appeal that demands an immediate, positive response, if we are to follow the path Jesus would have us go down.”
Saul glanced warily at Anne and then focused on Bishop Jeremiah. “Are you saying my wife won’t be going before the congregation to confess?”
A Mother's Love Page 24
