“Not to worry, Miriam,” Nora said as she headed for the door. “I’ve got a food processor I never use, and an extra blender that’s never been out of the box. I’ll be back in a few.”
“Talk about good timing,” Rebecca remarked as the bell above the door jangled again. She ran water in a bucket to mop the floor. “I think it’s so cool that Nora’s opening a store in that big barn. Can’t wait to see all the stuff she’s going to sell.”
“And it would be such a blessing for her and Millie if they could work together,” Miriam said. She shook her head as she grabbed a knife to peel onions. “Gabe’s got no idea how many lives he’s puttin’ on hold because he won’t let go of his old grudges.”
Silence filled the café as each of them went about their separate tasks. Rebecca made quick work of mopping the floor while the peelers went flick-flick-flick in Rhoda and Rachel’s hands. Time and again Miriam had wondered how she could convince Gabe to relent, but he seemed oblivious to everyone’s pleas. Thick white onion slices piled up in her metal pan as she wielded her knife, lost in thought.
“Here you go!” Nora crowed as she came in through the back kitchen door with a box under each arm. “Let me show you how to feed those carrots into the food processor and you’ll whip through them in no time.”
Once again Miriam gave thanks for Bob Oliveri, Rebecca’s English dat, who’d bought the building so her restaurant could have the electricity that health department standards required. Nora’s slicing demonstration took only a few moments, and then Miriam began feeding the carrots through the food processor’s top opening with an amazed grin.
“Can’t thank ya enough for lettin’ me borrow this handy-dandy contraption,” Miriam said above the whirrrr of its motor. “Come by for your lunch tomorrow when ya pick it up, all right?”
“Oh, keep it—and the blender,” Nora insisted. “I rarely use them, but I couldn’t bear to leave them behind when I moved here. And now that you’re going great guns with the slicer, I’ll talk some business with Rebecca. If I’m to open the store by the first weekend in September, I’ve got to get my website up and running.”
“She’s a gut one for doin’ that,” Miriam agreed. By the time she’d dumped a couple of bowls of sliced carrots into a stock pot, her English daughter and Nora were heading for the back kitchen counter, where Rebecca had stashed the laptop she was never without.
It made Miriam smile to watch the two young women discuss the website Nora wanted, using terms no Amish woman would ever understand. Rebecca plugged a little gadget of Nora’s into the back of the computer, and then began clicking to bring photographs onto the screen.
“Oh, look at this pottery!” Rebecca said. “And these look like quilts from the Schrocks’ shop next door.”
“They are,” Nora said as she leaned over Rebecca’s shoulder. She scooted aside as Rachel and Rhoda came to gaze at the pictures, and Miriam joined the cluster gathered around the computer, too.
“And those look like the horse collars Matthias makes,” Rhoda remarked. Then her eyes widened. “Oh, but look at these hangings! I’ve never seen the likes of that one, with the laundry on a real clothesline—”
“And these black calico cows looking over the fence are too cool,” Rebecca joined in.
“Those are Vernon Gingerich’s Black Angus, and that’s his silo,” Nora said as her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. “I made a banner for his nephew’s butcher shop and it was so cute I made a second one to put in the store.”
Rebecca clicked to make the picture bigger. “Just my opinion, but that cow design should be the header on your home page, Nora. And whenever you get the sign for your store, we could use that as the name for your website, as well.”
“Ben’s making my sign now, from wrought iron,” Nora replied. “I decided to call the place Simple Gifts. Do you think that’ll work?”
Miriam sucked in her breath, and so did her daughters. “Oh, but I like the sound of that, Nora!”
Nora watched Rebecca open more of the photographs, her expression waxing more serious. “Um, any idea how much my site will run me? I’m being careful with my—”
“Not one penny,” Miriam insisted as she slipped her arm around Nora’s shoulders. “That blender and food processor’ll more than cover whatever Rebecca’s gonna charge ya, honey-bug. She and I will work it out between us.”
Nora gasped. “But I couldn’t let you—”
“Don’t argue. It’s a done deal—jah, Rebecca?”
“Yup,” her daughter replied. She had already cropped the image of the cow banner so it would fit across the top of a web page and was experimenting with different colors for a background.
Miriam laughed at the expression on Nora’s freckled face. She looked younger, sweeter, in her kapp and a calico dress of little pink roses and green leaves. “Consider it my homecomin’ gift for your store, Nora. I’m so tickled you’re back amongst us. What with you and all three of my girls livin’ within a hoot and a holler, it’s just like old times.”
A smile stole across Miriam’s face then, and goose bumps tickled her skin. “I can still hear my little triplets gigglin’ at the songs ya sang for them when you’d come over so’s I could get some housework done.”
“Wow, I’d forgotten about that. I couldn’t have been but nine or ten,” Nora mused. “It was a treat to cross the road and come to your place. Nobody else had three cute toddler look-alikes.”
“That was before Rebecca washed away in the flood,” Rhoda murmured in a faraway voice. “I don’t remember us all being together when we were that little.”
“Me neither,” Rachel said. “Far back as I can recall, it was just you and me, Rhoda.”
Miriam wrapped her arms around as many shoulders as she could reach, drawing all four of the young women into a close huddle with Rebecca in its center. “Just goes to show ya how we made it through tragedies that tore both of our families apart,” she said in a voice that hitched a little. “But here we all are, together again. It’s God’s doin’. He’s never failed me, girls. And He’s not finished lovin’ us.”
As they let out a collective sigh, Miriam gave thanks for these kindred spirits—the daughters and the neighbor girl who were sharing this new life she lived with Ben, running her café. A year ago, she’d had no idea such joy and satisfaction awaited her.
“I was too young to realize it then,” Nora murmured, “but what a loss you suffered, Miriam, when Rebecca washed away in the river during that storm. I recall the men searching along the riverbanks downstream, but when they didn’t find her, no more was said about it.”
“It’s not our way to involve the police—then or now,” Miriam recounted in a tight voice. “Hiram and my Jesse and your dat declared that we’d done all we could do and the rest was up to God. We didn’t have a funeral, and we didn’t question the men’s authority. It was like my little girl had never existed—but of course I never stopped missin’ her, even though I still had Rachel and Rhoda to look after.”
“That must’ve been so awful, Miriam.”
The five of them turned to see Millie standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room. She so closely resembled Nora that Miriam had to smile as she opened her arms to the young girl. “It was much the same when your mother left town, carryin’ you, honey-bug,” she said. “Our Nora just disappeared. The women could only speculate about why she left until Wilma finally broke down and explained the predicament her daughter was in.”
“I don’t like it that the men make all the rules and tell us what to think and how to act,” Millie blurted. “It’s makin’ me think I don’t want to join the Old Order. I can see why Ira and Luke have dug their heels in about joinin’, too.”
Miriam closed her eyes, hoping God would approve of her reply to this vulnerable teenage girl. “Our faith has always been that way and I don’t see it changin’,” she murmured. “But in the meanwhile, we women learn to work within the Ordnung’s framework even as we handle our day-to-day livi
n’ in our own ways. Your mammi never stopped thinkin’ about Nora—or lovin’ her—just because she’d left town to have a baby without bein’ married. But Wilma kept the silence. She kept the faith, and she carried on.”
“And your mammi will love you no matter what you decide about your religion,” Nora said as she eased away from the group around the computer.
“When Mammi saw you gettin’ out of your black van over here, she told me to slip on over for a visit,” Millie replied with a grin. “Dawdi fell asleep in his chair, so here I am.”
Miriam’s heart thrummed as she watched the redheaded mother and daughter embrace. Rebecca turned from her laptop then to smile at the pair.
“If you ever want to talk about what you’ve gone through, Millie, finding out you had a different mother than you’d believed,” she said in a pensive voice, “I know all about that. You have a lot of conflicting feelings to deal with, and you don’t have to keep them inside just because your grandfather refuses to talk. Okay?”
Millie nodded shyly. “Mammi’s told me the same thing. We talk a lot more now that she’s doin’ so much better.” Her eyes lit up when she saw the images on Rebecca’s computer screen. “Is this gonna be your website, Mamma? I still hope I can help in your new store.”
Nora’s expression was priceless. Miriam could guess, by the profound mixture of love and joy and gratitude that lit up her freckled face, that Millie had just called Nora her mamma for the first time. It was the sweetest word Miriam knew, and she was so pleased that Nora thought so, too.
“We’ll work it out as best we can,” Nora insisted as she kept her arm around her daughter’s waist. “A lot depends on how your dawdi responds at the next church service—whether he confesses, or if Bishop Tom calls for a vote to shun him.”
“My word, it’ll be a busy Sunday and a long Members’ Meeting,” Rhoda remarked. “My Andy has finished takin’ his instruction, and that’s the day everybody’ll vote on whether he can become a full member of the Amish church.”
“I don’t know a soul who’s gonna say no to that,” Miriam remarked. “What with him runnin’ the clinic and his kids takin’ to our ways so quick, it’s like the Leitners have lived here a long time.”
“And then ya can set your wedding date!” Rachel piped up as she grabbed Rhoda’s hands.
“Shall we make it before ya birth your baby, or after? I couldn’t have anyone but you for my side-sitter, Sister,” Rhoda replied. Then she chuckled. “I’ve been havin’ odd dreams about the wedding, where ya let out a holler and then Andy has to deliver your wee one right there in church. Kind of crazy.”
As laughter filled her kitchen, Miriam put her hand on her swelling belly, where the baby was kicking, joining in their mirth. Mothers and daughters . . . was there a deeper, sweeter bond on this earth?
While the younger women kept visiting, Miriam poured a couple of gallons of chicken broth into her stockpot and turned on the burner beneath it to start cooking her sliced carrots. It seemed that while she was trying out a new recipe for soup, their little group had cooked up a fresh understanding of what it meant to nurture each other . . . to strengthen their relationships, which in turn strengthened their faith.
The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. And for that, Miriam was grateful.
Chapter Nineteen
Around ten thirty on Sunday morning, Nora started toward Ben and Miriam’s house for what she sensed would be a monumental day in Willow Ridge. The low gray clouds intensified her unsettled mood as she walked up the county highway. She could have attended the Amish church service, but her presence would’ve set her dat on edge and thereby upset her mother. She’d watched Luke and Ira walk this way a few hours ago.
The new Hooley house was built on what had once been part of the Glick farm. Selling this property had probably provided the largest lump sum her parents had seen since Dat retired from raising crops several years ago. The income from renting out several acres of his land to the mill was a godsend, but Nora suspected her parents had jars of home-canned food on their cellar shelves and meat in their deep freeze mostly because Lizzie and Atlee—and other families around town—had shared what they’d preserved from their gardens and what they’d butchered. The Amish took care of their own, even as they believed God would provide for their needs.
Singing drifted from the open windows of Ben and Miriam’s home—the final hymn. Soon the nonmembers of the congregation would step outside while her father’s fate was decided. Nora intended to join Millie, Luke, and Ira when they came outside—not to eavesdrop, exactly, but hearing the words of the Members’ Meeting would prepare her for the events to come.
After the hymn ended, Vernon Gingerich delivered the benediction in his rich, resonant voice. Nora was grateful that he was assisting with the service, providing his calm wisdom. While she hoped her father had experienced a change of heart since she’d last seen him, she asked God to guide all of those present as Dat responded to the kneeling confession Bishop Tom had prescribed.
“As the nonmembers leave the room,” Tom said, his voice carrying through the windows, “let’s prepare ourselves for the two very important matters before us today, the consideration of Andy Leitner as a new member of the Old Order, followed by Gabe Glick’s confession.”
The back door flew open and several little boys whooped as they ran into the yard. The girls were more demure but equally eager to be playing after a three-hour church service. A few teenagers come out next, followed by a nice-looking fellow and then Ira, Luke, and Millie.
“Nora, this is Andy Leitner, the nurse who runs the new clinic down the way,” Luke spoke up. “Andy, Nora has bought Hiram’s place—”
“Ah, the gal who’s to open the new store,” Andy said as he shook her hand. “Sounds like you’ve taken quite a step, coming back to Willow Ridge.”
“And you’ve made quite a life change, joining the Amish church—and bringing your medical expertise to town,” Nora replied as she took in his black broadfall trousers, matching vest, and white shirt. While his Sunday clothes and straw hat made him appear Plain, the final decision wasn’t his to make. He’d taken a considerable risk to come this far in his quest to join the Amish faith. “I wish you all the best.”
In the house, one male voice followed another as the members voted on whether to accept Andy into the church. “Aye . . . aye . . . aye . . .”
It was gratifying to hear lifelong Amish folks accepting an Englischer, after Andy had sold his previous home—given up the life he’d always known—and taken his instruction in the Amish faith so he could marry Rhoda Lantz. Soon the vote continued on the women’s side of the room, and Nora’s heart thrummed as the ayes kept coming. It gave her hope that this community might accept her presence even if she couldn’t follow the strict doctrines and principles that formed the backbone of the Amish faith.
The Hooleys’ back door swung open. Rhoda stepped outside, beaming as she wiped her eyes. “You’re to come inside now, Andy,” she announced. “You’re one of us! A member in gut standing.”
Rhoda and Andy’s embrace made Nora envious of the affection this couple shared—and when a school-age boy and girl who resembled Andy ran over to join their hug, the family picture was complete. Nora shared a smile with Millie as Andy and Rhoda went inside.
“That’s fabulous,” Nora murmured. “You can feel the love and the respect they have for each other. They just glow.”
“Jah, it’s gut to see that everybody wants Andy here,” Millie agreed. “He’s had half of the clinic building made over into their new home, so things would’ve gotten sticky if he and Rhoda couldn’t get hitched after all Andy’s given up to be with her.”
Nora nodded. She found it heartening that a good man like Andy Leitner had sacrificed so much to be able to marry the woman he loved. Such things did happen, even if she’d not had them happen in her life. As Bishop Tom’s voice rose again, she listened closely.
“We’ve a more serious issue
to consider now, concernin’ the return of the Glicks’ daughter, Nora,” he said in a solemn voice. “More than once Nora has asked for her dat’s forgiveness for the circumstances surroundin’ her unwed pregnancy, but Gabe’s turned away from her. Because this goes against Jesus’s teachings about forgiveness, I’ve asked him to give a kneelin’ confession today, to cleanse his heart so their family can reunite in God’s love and—”
“But see, that’s where I’ve got a problem with this whole procedure.”
Nora’s eyes widened at the defiant edge in her father’s voice. She heard a lot of whispering because Dat had dared to interrupt the bishop, and to defy him.
“What do you not understand?” Vernon’s voice rose above the murmuring of the crowd. “You’ve spent most of your life as a preacher of the Old Order—”
“And Tom here was a preacher just like me when I sent Nora away,” her dat protested. “He and Hiram went right along with sendin’ Nora to her aunt’s house to have her baby. It’s still the way we separate these girls, to give them time to consider their sin and to find a home for the child. So if my decision was right back then, why am I gettin’ called out for it now?”
“Ah, but let’s remember that ya sent Nora away without consultin’ me or Hiram or Jesse Lantz,” Bishop Tom pointed out. “And jah, while it’s the way we’ve historically handled that situation, the issue now is that Nora has asked ya to forgive her, and you’ve refused. More than once.”
“Not my doin’ that she came back,” her father retorted. “And not my doin’ that she dumped Millie on Atlee’s porch instead of adoptin’ her out, either.”
Wincing, Nora slung her arm around Millie’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry you heard that,” she murmured.
“This is just wrong,” Luke muttered as he and Ira huddled around Nora and her daughter. “I can’t believe Gabe’s picking at these straws.”
“And the way I see it,” Vernon spoke up in the house, “God’s will has been at work all along. Where would you and Wilma be, if it weren’t for your granddaughter caring for you? And Nora, who was lost to you for so many years, has returned, wanting to reunite with your family. I see that as a tremendous blessing.”
Harvest of Blessings Page 18
