Harvest of Blessings

by Hubbard, Charlotte

  “Had she done it right all those years ago—come home and joined the church, like she was supposed to—we wouldn’t be havin’ this discussion,” Dat ranted.

  “Forgiveness, Gabe. It starts with you,” Bishop Tom stated. He sounded a lot less patient now.

  “Our faith is all about forgiveness,” Vernon chimed in. “Forgiveness and following God’s will rather than being misled by our own willful ways. You’ve been given this chance to start fresh, Gabe. What’s your response to God’s call?”

  Nora held her breath as silence ensued—until the back door flew open and her father limped out. Anger contorted his weathered, wrinkled face when he saw the four of them standing together. “Eavesdroppers, the lot of ya!” he spat as the sunlight flickered on his glasses. “No respect for your elders or the ways of the church.”

  When Dat lurched, Nora started over to catch him, but Luke held her fast. Her father regained his balance by leaning against the side of the house for a moment. Then he hobbled toward the lane to walk home.

  “He’s gonna fall,” Millie whimpered as she watched her grandfather’s unsteady progress.

  “And whose fault is that?” Luke muttered. “But for you, Nora, I’ll see that he makes it to the house.”

  Nora watched, her heart in her throat, as Luke caught up to her father—and then saw Dat swat away the arm Luke offered him. She turned to follow the words that were drifting through the window.

  “Much as I regret takin’ this course of action,” Bishop Tom was saying, “I warned Gabe that he’d be shunned for six weeks if he didn’t confess. I’m askin’ everyone to keep Wilma and Millie, Lizzie and Atlee, and Nora in your prayers during this difficult time, and I’m askin’ God to shine His light on Gabe’s heart and soul.”

  As the Members’ Meeting adjourned, chatter rose inside the house. Nora had thought she was immune to Dat’s bitterness by now, but when she saw the anguish on her daughter’s face, she reminded herself that this shunning wasn’t about her. Mamm and Millie, as the ones who saw to Dat’s day-to-day living, were the most affected. The most afflicted. How would they handle the in-house separation that shunning required? Dat’s meals were to be served at a separate table, and they were to limit their speaking to him, except to exhort him to seek the path of salvation.

  Men emerged through the back door carrying long tables to be set up for the common meal, talking earnestly among themselves about what had just taken place. It had been unusual enough when Hiram Knepp, their previous bishop, had been cast out—and now, less than a year later, a retired preacher had been shunned, as well. It didn’t look good that longtime leaders of the Willow Ridge church district needed such discipline.

  Nora saw her mother slipping out the back door, her hand at her mouth as though she were ready to cry. She and Millie hurried toward her with Ira following close behind.

  “Mamma, I heard it all from out here,” Nora murmured as she grasped her mother’s hands. “I—I’m sorry I’ve caused so much trouble—”

  “Puh! The trouble is inside your dat’s hard head. There’s been no gettin’ through to him of late,” Mamm muttered as she also reached for Millie. “I wanted to crawl in a hole. I can’t be in that house with him after what-all he’s said today. He’ll have to make do by himself until he comes to his senses.”

  Nora gasped. Her mother had always followed the Old Order ways of a submissive wife who obeyed her husband and the church’s leaders. Mamma looked worn around the edges, yet she showed no sign of backing down from the stand she’d just taken.

  Millie licked her lips nervously. “Where’ll we go, Mammi? What about when Dawdi needs meals or his clothes washed or—”

  “He’ll have to humble himself and ask someone for help—or live hungry, in his own stink,” Nora’s mamm answered. “I’ve wasted all the breath I’m goin’ to on that impossible man. Don’t know what’s come over him.”

  “Come to my house,” Nora blurted. “I’ve got plenty of room for both of you.”

  “Or you can stay with Atlee and Ella and me,” Lizzie said as she joined them. “This is just—I can’t believe Gabe’s let it go this far.”

  Mamma stared at the grassy ground for a moment. “I’m not sure Atlee’ll be any too happy to have me under his roof—”

  “Well, it’s my roof, too,” Lizzie insisted as she shifted Ella to her other shoulder. “After all the times I’ve urged Atlee to spend more time at your house, helpin’ with things, it’s only right that he provide ya a place. It’s only for the six weeks of Gabe’s shunning, after all.”

  In the expressions that flickered across her mother’s drawn face, Nora detected a hint that her parents’ separation might not end when the shunning did. She felt surprised at her mother’s determination, but it stemmed from a deep desperation that appalled her even more. Her heart faltered when her mother gazed up at her.

  “Are ya sure it’d be all right to stay at your place, Nora?” Mamm asked in a breathy voice. “I don’t want to impose—”

  “It’s all settled,” Nora insisted. “You can stay as long as you need to.”

  “Denki, Daughter,” her mother murmured. “When Gabe launched into his hardheaded excuses, all I could think was how I could not endure six weeks of his attitude,” she added in a rising voice. “He brought this on himself. I’m not lookin’ after him again until he apologizes to you girls and gets himself right with God. And if I get shunned for disobeyin’ my husband, well—so be it.”

  Nora held Millie’s wide-eyed gaze as they both gripped Mamma’s withered hands. She certainly hadn’t anticipated her mother’s declaration of independence—nor had she figured on having two houseguests, although the idea made her smile. “I’d better not help you with your packing. Dat’ll accuse me of luring you into my English ways.”

  “I’ll help ya,” Ira insisted. He’d been listening to their conversation from a respectful distance. “I’ll go in with ya while ya pack, and I’ll have a rig ready to take ya to Nora’s. I think it’s a great idea that you’re goin’ to her place, considerin’ how Gabe won’t let her into your house. The three of ya can catch up with each other—as well ya should.”

  Nora appreciated the heartfelt, sincere way Ira wanted to help them. Was it her imagination, or had he matured a lot in the past few weeks? As it sank in that three generations of Glick women would be together at last, Nora knew she could be ready—knew she could somehow put her new consignment store together, as well—while they all weathered this emotional storm.

  For the first time in years, Nora felt she had a family who loved her and would stand by her, just as she would shelter them during their time of trial. It seemed right somehow, and she intended to make the most of the time she’d share with two people she wanted to know a lot better.

  Chapter Twenty

  Ira felt like the can of soda that had spooked his mare a few weeks ago—so fizzy and full of pent-up energy that he’d spew if he didn’t speak his mind. His thoughts had been evolving lately, and this morning’s church service had put the final spin on them. He grabbed Millie’s hand. “Let’s find Ben and meet up with Luke,” he said to her and Nora and Wilma. “There’s something on my mind, and I only want to say it once.”

  Millie’s eyes widened, but she didn’t hang back as Ira started through the crowd of men who were setting up the tables. He spotted Ben among them, and saw that Luke was leaving the Glick house after following Gabe to his door. Was he being stupid? Speaking too soon? Or was this the sort of moment that came over folks when they finally realized the path they were meant to follow?

  “Bennie,” Ira said as he swatted his older brother’s arm in passing. “I need your ear. Now that Gabe’s been shunned and Wilma and Millie are gonna bunk at Nora’s place, I’ve got something that needs sayin’.”

  Ben joined their group as they walked toward the lane. “You gals are sure that goin’ to Nora’s is the right idea?” he asked quietly. “That leaves Gabe to fend for himself—”

 
“As well he should,” Wilma interrupted. She walked between her daughter and her granddaughter, clutching their hands. “He’s chosen to separate himself with his hard-hearted attitude—just like when he sent our Nora away years ago, with no regard for the details of her situation.”

  Ben sighed loudly. “Somebody’ll need to look in on him. Miriam and I can do that, and I’ll let Tom know.”

  “I’ll take a turn, too, if he’ll tolerate me,” Nora spoke up. “I’d never forgive myself if he got sick because I’ve caused so much commotion.”

  Ira gazed at Nora with great admiration. She was a much deeper person than he’d imagined when he’d first seen her wearing shorts and a ball cap, driving a shiny red car. He probably wouldn’t tell her so in as many words, but she’d been an inspiration to him. A wake-up call.

  “Luke!” Ira hollered. “It’s a family meeting.”

  When they met up with Luke at the bottom of Ben’s lane, everyone gazed expectantly at Ira. For a moment Ira wondered what he’d gotten himself into, but his heart told him to go with the flow of rightness he felt.

  “I’ve decided to join the Old Order church,” he blurted. “Ever since Nora showed up, and Gabe’s made such a scene about it, I’ve come to realize that I belong in this district with Ben and the aunts.”

  Everyone around him sucked air. Time stood still for a few tight moments.

  “Are you nuts ?” Luke finally rasped. “Gabe Glick’s attitude and his refusal to change it are two of the best reasons to not become Amish.”

  “I figured you’d see it that way, and I understand,” Ira replied. He took a deep breath, meeting the intense gazes around him. Nora, Wilma, and Millie looked at him with wide, identical eyes, but their faces expressed wonder rather than doubt. A big grin was stealing across his oldest brother’s face.

  “And what finally brought ya to this conviction?” Ben asked as he grasped Ira’s shoulder. “I’ve been waitin’ to hear ya take some sort of stand, little brother. Gut for you, goin’ in this direction!”

  “Oh my,” Millie murmured. “This is a big switch from what you’ve been sayin’.”

  “And I hope you’ll bear with me, Millie,” Ira hastened to reply as he squeezed her hand. “It’s the big picture I’m seein’. If we younger fellas don’t join the Old Order, our faith has no chance to evolve away from attitudes like Gabe’s. Bishop Tom—and Vernon and Ben—have newer ways of lookin’ at our life, and I want to be a part of that vision. It’s the right thing to do.”

  Nora gazed intently at him. “I’m proud of you, Ira,” she said. “You’ve come a long way since we first met—when, frankly, I had serious doubts about a guy your age dating my sixteen-year-old daughter.”

  Laughter softened the tension of the group gathered around him, and Ira relaxed. If a strong woman like Nora believed in his motives—in him—he surely must be on the right track. “Denki for sayin’ that. I want only the best for Millie,” Ira insisted. “And if she’s not ready to join the church yet, I’ll be patient. It’s a big decision, and we all need to make our choices for the right reasons.”

  “Which is another question that’s slapping me in the face,” Luke remarked. “I’ve not heard you say one thing about your belief in God, and you’ve never paid much attention in church or gotten into evening Bible readings and such. I’m hearing more about social issues than religion—”

  “And that’s a place for faith to start,” Ben interrupted patiently. He winked at Ira. “After all, most fellas don’t take their instruction until the right young lady puts them in the mood to get married. Had I not been engaged to Polly Peterscheim back in the day, I wouldn’t have joined the Old Order when I did, for sure. But even though she threw me over for a wealthier beau, that little mustard seed of faith Jesus talks about had been planted.”

  Ben gazed toward his new house on the hill. “So after years of wanderin’ the Midwest in my farrier wagon, my faith made me the right man for Miriam when I found her last fall. If such a new direction—a whole new life—was what God had in mind for me, I don’t doubt that He’s got wonderful-gut plans for you, as well, little brother.”

  “I think you’re smart to hitch in with the likes of Bishop Tom—and Vernon,” Nora joined in. “Vernon reminded me a while back that Jesus commanded us to love one another, above all the other man-made rules and regulations. Somehow Dat’s lost sight of that,” she went on with a sigh. “So it’s in my best interest to shift his vision as much as I can with my love, instead of resenting his hard attitude.”

  “Ya said a mouthful there, Nora,” Ben murmured.

  “I’m so glad ya see it that way, Daughter,” Wilma spoke up. “I’m movin’ to your house while your dat’s under the ban, but that’s not to say I don’t love that pigheaded fella I married so many years ago. I’m just makin’ a point, hopin’ he’ll feel it faster.”

  “Like a needle piercing fabric,” Nora murmured with a chuckle. “Can’t sew things together without poking a few holes.”

  As they all chuckled, Millie’s grandmother smiled at Ira full on. “I like what I’m hearin’ now, Ira,” she murmured. “I’ve sometimes wondered about ya bein’ so much older than Millie, yet who am I to judge? Gabe’s fifteen years ahead of me, and it’s worked out. Mostly.”

  Millie’s nervous giggle made everyone smile. Ira felt so relieved now that the most important people in his life understood and supported his big decision. He glanced up toward Ben’s yard, where the women were carrying out bowls of chilled salads, baskets of fresh bread, and platters of sliced ham and cold fried chicken. It pleased him to know that this Sunday ritual, eating a common meal with everyone in the church community, would remain a part of his life. These gatherings were where all the best talk and sharing of life events happened—not to mention being a place to latch onto good, solid food like he and Luke couldn’t rustle up at their apartment.

  “What say we eat? All this serious talk’s made me plenty hungry,” Ira teased.

  Luke gave Ira’s shoulder a playful punch. “I’m glad some of your priorities haven’t changed.”

  As they all walked back up the hill, Ira smiled. Luke was making jokes and Millie was holding his hand. Ben and Nora had expressed their support, and Wilma appreciated his offer to help move her out of the old Glick farmhouse. All felt very right with his world now, even though he’d changed his path dramatically. And I thank Ya for that, Lord, and for standin’ by me while I stated my intentions.

  Later that afternoon, Millie entered her grandparents’ dim kitchen and stopped. Dawdi stood at the kitchen sink, spooning up tomatoes from a quart glass canning jar. When he glared at her and Mammi, Millie wished she could disappear into thin air to avoid the confrontation she knew was coming.

  “I see ya didn’t bother to bring me anything from the meal, after ya filled your own bellies and stayed to gossip,” he groused.

  Mammi straightened her shoulders. “Gabe, I’ve told ya time and again that home-canned vegetables need to be boiled in a pan before ya eat them,” she said in a voice that wavered a little. “But ya don’t listen—to me or to Bishop Tom—which is why Millie and I are goin’ to Nora’s house while you’re under the ban.”

  Dawdi’s spoon clattered into the sink. “That’s not part of the bargain!” he retorted. “It’s wrong to leave me alone—and even more wrong to take up with an Englischer when ya know gut and well I can’t get on by myself.”

  “I’m doin’ this so’s you’ll know how it feels to be shut out,” Mammi said in a stronger voice. “Just like you’ve shut Nora out—just like ya haven’t considered the way Tobias Borntreger was the one who sinned all those years ago and brought us all to this sorry state of affairs. I’m callin’ it tough love.”

  “And I’m callin’ it flat-out wrong,” Dawdi countered angrily. He started toward them, pointing his finger at them. “You’re the wife, Wilma. It’s your place to see to my needs, even if it means I’m to eat at a TV table and ya don’t talk to me much.”

 
Millie heard the door open behind her and was relieved to see Ira stepping inside.

  “So have it your way. Fetch a TV table from the hall closet,” Mammi replied as she eased farther away from him.

  “Easy now, Gabe,” Ira warned. “Let’s you and I sit here at the table while Wilma and Millie pack.”

  “Help yourself to the brownies in that pan,” Millie said, gesturing toward the other end of the counter. “We’ll be back in a few, Ira. Denki for helpin’ us.”

  Millie led her grandmother out of the kitchen as quickly as the older woman could walk. While in many ways Mammi was stronger than she had been, spending most of the last few years in bed had weakened her muscles. Millie was glad her clothes were downstairs in the small room Mammi had been using during her extended illness. After they folded her dresses and underthings into a suitcase, Millie urged her to rest while she packed her own belongings.

  Mammi’s lips twitched. “After I sit for a minute, I’ll pick our dresses and what-not out of the clothes hamper. We can wash them tomorrow at Nora’s.”

  Millie had been so wound up from dealing with Dawdi, she hadn’t realized why Mammi had had so few dresses to pack. She pulled an old gray duffel from the closet. “Stuff the laundry in this. Dawdi’ll rant about us takin’ our dirty clothes but not his.”

  As she hurried upstairs to her room, Millie wondered if her mother had experienced this same sense of desperation when she’d been sent to live with Mammi’s sister. This conflict and confrontation was tying her stomach in knots. Millie packed fast, praying her grandfather gave them no further trouble as they left—hoping Ira wasn’t bearing the brunt of Dawdi’s foul mood.

  Denki, Lord, for providin’ us a place to stay, and for Nora’s determination to love Dawdi even when he’s mean to her. Help me to be a gut daughter. Strong like my mother.