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Hannah's Joy

Page 27

by Marta Perry


  A shadow crossed the joy, and he knew what caused it. He held her hand in his, cherishing the feel of it.

  “I have been thinking on this,” he said. “And if y-you gave up driving a car, and I gave up home worship, w-we maybe are meant to be horse-and-buggy Mennonites. What do you think of that?”

  The answer had been in the back of his mind for a while. This was the reason he had never felt ready to be baptized—because God had something else in store for him. Probably neither family would be best pleased about the choice, but they would get used to it. More important was what Hannah thought.

  Her answer wasn’t long in coming. She smiled, and all the hope and joy of a future together seemed contained in that smile.

  “I think you are very smart, William Brand.” She raised her face for his kiss.

  EPILOGUE

  Come, Jamie. It’s almost time for the parade.” Hannah held out a small jacket as William and Jamie came into the bakery from the kitchen.

  “Grandpa,” Jamie declared, shoving his arms into the jacket’s sleeves.

  “Ja, Grossdaadi will be in the p-parade,” William said, dropping a kiss on Hannah’s lips. “You will see him.”

  Hannah responded to the kiss, her palm against William’s cheek, feeling the warmth in her heart that came of loving and being loved. Now that they’d both been baptized into their new church family, their wedding was less than a week away. It would be held in the churchhouse, instead of at home, but their Amish kin would be present, as well as the Mennonites.

  “Komm,” William said, handing Jamie the small flag his grandfather had brought for him. “You will wave your f-flag when you see Grandpa, ain’t so?”

  “Ja,” Jamie declared. He was talking more every day, it seemed, using Pennsylvania Dutch words as easily as English and often enough mixing them both together.

  The three of them went out the front door of the bakery to Main Street, where people were already gathering to watch the Veterans Day parade.

  Phil Russo hadn’t gotten his wish to have Hannah and Jamie in the parade, but Hannah had persuaded Robert to come for another visit, so Jamie would see his grandfather marching with the valley’s veterans.

  It was a good compromise, one of many that she and William would make as they built their lives together. Already they felt accepted among the horse-and-buggy Mennonites, a change that was probably easier for her than for William, as the group was so similar to the black bumper Mennonites.

  After their wedding, they would move into a house only two blocks from the bakery, with a fenced-in yard for Jamie and an extra bedroom for the other babies they hoped to have. Her life would be full and useful, running the bakery, having a family, loving her new husband.

  She studied William’s face as he lifted Jamie to his shoulders, ensuring her son a good view of the parade. They could hear the sound of the band somewhere down the street, and Jamie bounced with excitement.

  Most of the crowd that had gathered to watch the parade was English, of course. That was only natural. But even as Hannah glanced around, some of the Mennonite and Amish shopkeepers came out their doors, looking down the street for the first glimpse of the parade.

  Someone touched her arm, and she turned, barely preventing herself from gasping when she realized it was Isaac Brand. William’s brother had come around to accepting their marriage and the changes it would inevitably make in William’s life, but she certainly hadn’t expected to see him here.

  “Isaac, how are you? Do you have business in town today?”

  “A few errands, ja,” he said. “But since my new little nephew’s grossdaadi is in the parade, I thought I would watch.” He reached out to pat Jamie’s leg, where the boy sat on William’s shoulders.

  It was an olive branch she hadn’t expected from Isaac, and Hannah could tell that William was as surprised as she was.

  “That is so kind of you,” she said, when William seemed speechless. “Jamie, say denke to Onkel Isaac.”

  “Denke, Onkel Isaac,” Jamie parroted, cooperative at the moment, and she breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t always want to perform when asked to talk, but this was the right moment to pick, because Isaac was smiling and the very air around them seemed warmer.

  Or maybe that warmth came from William’s hand, clasping hers, hidden by the folds of her skirt. A very un-Amish thing to do, holding hands in public, but maybe William guessed at the emotions tumbling around inside her.

  The sound of the high school band grew louder, and it came into view, red-and-white uniforms bright, rounding the corner and heading down Main Street toward the firehouse. Jamie bounced excitedly in time to the music, waving his flag when he saw the color guard with their flags.

  A car carrying the community’s oldest veterans came next, and a lump choked Hannah’s throat. The lump threatened to grow to boulder size when she spotted Robert marching next to Phil in uniform. She fought to keep a smile on her face, but tears weren’t far off.

  William squeezed her hand, and her racing pulse steadied. Travis was gone, and it was right and natural to grieve him, even to be affected by the sight of a uniform.

  But life never stood still, and she moved with it. She glanced up at her son, firmly ensconced on William’s shoulders. They’d both moved forward. They’d found a home here in Pleasant Valley, and now they’d found a good man to share it with.

  Joy welled up in her, sweeping away the lump in her throat. She had been lost, but now she was found, and she was content.

  GLOSSARY OF PENNSYLVANIA DUTCH WORDS AND PHRASES

  ach. oh; used as an exclamation

  agasinish. stubborn; self-willed

  ain’t so. A phrase commonly used at the end of a sentence to invite agreement.

  alter. old man

  anymore. Used as a substitute for “nowadays.”

  Ausbund. Amish hymnal. Used in the worship services, it contains traditional hymns, words only, to be sung without accompaniment. Many of the hymns date from the sixteenth century.

  befuddled. mixed up

  blabbermaul. talkative one

  blaid. bashful

  boppli. baby

  bruder. brother

  bu. boy

  buwe. boys

  daadi. daddy

  Da Herr sei mit du. The Lord be with you.

  denke. thanks (or danki)

  Englischer. one who is not Plain

  ferhoodled. upset; distracted

  ferleicht. perhaps

  frau. wife

  fress. eat

  gross. big

  grossdaadi. grandfather

  grossdaadi haus. An addition to the farmhouse, built for the grandparents to live in once they’ve “retired” from actively running the farm.

  grossmutter. grandmother

  gut. good

  hatt. hard; difficult

  haus. house

  hinnersich. backward

  ich. I

  ja. yes

  kapp. Prayer covering, worn in obedience to the Biblical injunction that women should pray with their heads covered. Kapps are made of Swiss organdy and are white. (In some Amish communities, unmarried girls thirteen and older wear black kapps during worship service.)

  kinder. kids (or kinner)

  komm. come

  komm schnell. come quick

  Leit. the people; the Amish

  lippy. sassy

  maidal. old maid; spinster

  mamm. mother

  middaagesse. lunch

  mind. remember

  onkel. uncle

  Ordnung. The agreed-upon rules by which the Amish community lives. When new practices become an issue, they are discussed at length among the leadership. The decision for or against innovation is generally made
on the basis of maintaining the home and family as separate from the world. For instance, a telephone might be necessary in a shop in order to conduct business but would be banned from the home because it would intrude on family time.

  Pennsylvania Dutch. The language is actually German in origin and is primarily a spoken language. Most Amish write in English, which results in many variations in spelling when the dialect is put into writing! The language probably originated in the south of Germany but is common also among the Swiss Mennonite and French Huguenot immigrants to Pennsylvania. The language was brought to America prior to the Revolution and is still in use today. High German is used for Scripture and church documents, while English is the language of commerce.

  rumspringa. Running-around time. The late teen years when Amish youth taste some aspects of the outside world before deciding to be baptized into the church.

  schnickelfritz. mischievous child

  ser gut. very good

  tastes like more. delicious

  Was ist letz? What’s the matter?

  Wie bist du heit. how are you; said in greeting

  wilkom. welcome

  Wo bist du? Where are you?

  RECIPES

  Rye Bread

  1/2 cup light or dark brown sugar

  1/2 cup shortening

  1/2 cup molasses

  11/2 tablespoons salt

  2 teaspoons caraway seed

  21/2 cups scalded milk

  2 packages active dry yeast

  3/4 cup warm water

  2 tablespoons grated orange rind

  3 cups rye flour

  51/2 cups white flour

  Mix the brown sugar, shortening, molasses, salt, and caraway seed in a large bowl. Add scalded milk and stir, then cool to lukewarm. Meanwhile, add the yeast to the warm water until it’s bubbly. Add the yeast/water mixture to the brown sugar mixture, then stir in the grated orange rind, the rye flour, and the white flour until the mixture forms a smooth ball. Turn it out onto a floured board and knead until smooth and elastic. Place in a greased bowl and let rise in a warm, draft-free place until it doubles in size, about 11/2 hours. Punch the dough down and shape it into three loaves. Place in loaf pans and let rise for about 11/2 hours, until each forms a rounded top above the pan. Bake the loaves at 350°F for 30 to 40 minutes, until lightly browned.

  Walnut Streusel Cake

  FOR STREUSEL:

  1/2 cup light brown sugar

  2 tablespoons softened butter

  2 tablespoons flour

  1/2 cup chopped walnuts

  1 teaspoon cinnamon

  With two knives or a pastry blender, cut the streusel ingredients together until they form fine crumbs. Do not use mixer.

  FOR BATTER:

  11/2 cups flour

  3/4 cup sugar

  21/2 teaspoons baking powder

  1/2 teaspoon salt

  1/3 cup melted butter

  1/2 cup milk

  1 egg

  1 teaspoon vanilla

  Preheat oven to 375°F.

  Combine dry ingredients. In a separate bowl, beat the wet ingredients together. Add the dry ingredients and mix thoroughly. Pour half of the batter into a greased 8-inch baking pan. Sprinkle with half the streusel mixture. Pour in rest of batter and sprinkle with rest of streusel mixture. Bake at 375°F for 25 to 30 minutes.

  Pretzels

  1 cup milk

  1/2 cup butter

  11/2 tablespoons sugar

  1/2 teaspoon salt

  1 package dry yeast, dissolved in ¼ cup warm water

  1 egg white, beaten

  33/4 cups of flour

  1 egg yolk, beaten

  coarse salt, for sprinkling

  Scald the milk, and then add the butter, sugar, and salt to the pan, turning off the burner and letting the mixture cool to lukewarm. Add the yeast/water mixture and the egg white, and then stir in the flour, using enough flour to make a soft dough. Knead the dough on a floured surface until smooth and elastic. Place the dough in a greased bowl, cover, and let rise in a warm, draft-free place until it doubles in size, about 11/2 hours. Punch the dough down, turn it out onto a floured board, and roll it out to a large rectangle. Cut it into twelve strips about 1 inch wide and shape each strip into a traditional pretzel shape. Let them stand on the board until they begin to rise. Meanwhile, fill a large, shallow skillet half full with water and bring almost to a boil. Drop the pretzels in and cook about 1 minute on each side. (It may take several batches to do all of them.) Lift each pretzel out carefully with a slotted spatula, letting it drain before putting it on a greased baking sheet. Once all the pretzels are on the baking sheet, brush them with the beaten egg yolk and sprinkle with coarse salt. Bake in a preheated 425°F oven for about 10 to 15 minutes, until brown. Remove and let cool on a cooling rack. Makes 12 large pretzels.

  Dear Reader,

  I hope you’ve enjoyed another visit with the people of Pleasant Valley. Although the place doesn’t actually exist, it seems very real to me, as it is based on the Amish settlements here in my area of north-central Pennsylvania.

  I loved writing about Hannah, torn as she is between two worlds. To me she represents all those who are seeking to find the place where they belong. That’s never been an easy task, and in today’s culture it seems more difficult than ever.

  When I was growing up, I had several friends who were Old Order Mennonite, and I cherish the ways in which we learned to appreciate each other’s differences. Some of my Plain friends left that way of life at some point just as Hannah did, but I believe all of them, again like Hannah, carried that heritage with them wherever they went.

  I would love to hear your thoughts on my book. If you’d care to write to me, I’d be happy to reply with a signed bookmark or bookplate and my brochure of Pennsylvania Dutch recipes. You can find me on the Web at www.martaperry.com, e-mail me at marta@martaperry.com, or write to me in care of Berkley Publicity Department, Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, NY 10014.

  Blessings,

  Marta Perry

  An Excerpt from

  NAOMI’S CHRISTMAS

  Pleasant Valley

  BOOK SEVEN

  by Marta Perry

  Coming in November 2012 from Berkley Books

  Naomi Esch froze in her seat at the family table, unable to stop staring at her father. Daadi had just tossed what felt like a lightning bolt into the middle of her thirtieth birthday celebration. Around her, she could feel her siblings and their spouses stuck in equally unbelieving attitudes.

  “Ach, what is wrong with all of you?” Daadi, eyes narrowing, his beard seeming to bristle, glared at his offspring. “This is a reason to celebrate, ain’t so?”

  Lovina, her brother Elijah’s wife, was the first to recover, her sweet, heart-shaped face matching her character. “We wish you and Betty much happiness.” She bounced baby Mattie, who’d begun to fuss, in her arms. “Wilkom, Betty.”

  Betty Shutz, a round dumpling of a woman with a pair of shrewd brown eyes, nodded and smiled, but the glance she sent toward Naomi was cautious.

  Isaiah, the youngest and most impetuous, said what everyone must be thinking. “But what about Naomi? If you and Betty are marrying, what is Naomi to do?”

  The question roused Naomi from her frozen state. What was she supposed to do, after fifteen years spent raising her siblings, tending the house and garden and her beehives, and taking care of Daadi?

  Daadi’s gaze shifted, maybe a bit uneasily. “Naomi is a gut daughter, none better. No one would deny that. But newlyweds want to have time alone together, ja? So we . . . I was thinking Naomi would move in with Elijah and Lovina. They are both busy with the dry-goods store and three young kinder besides. It would be a
big help to you, ja?”

  Elijah and Lovina exchanged glances, and then Lovina smiled at Naomi. “Nothing would please us more than to have Naomi with us, but that is for her to say, ain’t so?”

  “Denke, Lovina.” Naomi found that her stiff lips could move after all. “But what about my beehives?”

  Odd that her thoughts had flown so quickly to her bees in the face of this shock. Or maybe not so odd. The beehives were the only things she could call truly hers.

  “I’ve already talked to Dick Holder about the hives, and he’ll be happy to give Naomi a gut price for them.” Daad spoke as if it were all settled, her life completely changed in a few short minutes.

  “I will not sell the hives.” Naomi could hardly believe that strong tone was coming out of her mouth. Everyone else looked equally surprised. Maybe they’d never heard such firmness from her.

  Daad’s eyebrows drew down as he stared at her. “Komm, Naomi, don’t be stubborn. It is the sensible thing to do. Betty is allergic to bee stings, so the hives cannot stay here. And Elijah’s home in town isn’t suitable. The money will give you a nice little nest egg for the future.”

  A babble of talk erupted around her as everyone seemed to have an opinion, but Naomi’s thoughts were stuck on the words Daad had used. Her future. He clearly thought he knew what that future was to be. She should move from one sibling to another, helping to raise their children, never having a home or a life of her own.

  She was engaging in selfish thinking, maybe, unfitting for a humble Amish person. But . . .

  She looked around the table. Elijah, the younger brother she’d comforted when bad dreams woke him in the night. Anna and Mary, the next two in the family. She’d taught the girls everything they needed to know as Amish women, overseen their rumspringas, seen them married to gut men they loved. And Isaiah, the baby, the one whose first stumbling steps she’d guided. Were they to be her future, as they had been her past?

 

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