by Jan Drexler
God again. Even when he had prayed last night, God had remained silent.
“What about when things go wrong, or people die, or accidents happen?”
David set the second leg in its place. “We have a knack for expecting something different than what God promises. He never promised our lives would be easy, and He never said we would always be happy. What He does promise is that when troubles come, He will be with us.” He looked Guy in the eye. “He has never left you or forsaken you.”
Guy couldn’t meet David’s gaze. He swept the little pile of sawdust away, remembering the silent emptiness after Mama died. “It has sure felt like it sometimes.”
David sighed as he set in the third leg. Once it was in place, he gave each of the legs a final thump with the mallet, then set the stool upright on the workbench.
“Life is a lot like this stool.” David took a bit of sandpaper and rubbed the seat. “What would happen if I had given it only two legs? Or one leg?”
“I wouldn’t want to sit on it.”
“I wouldn’t, either. But that’s what we do when we try to live without God and a community of believers.” He pointed to the legs, one at a time. “God’s Word, the Bible, is the first leg, and the community, the church, is our second leg.”
“And the third?”
“That’s us. All by ourselves we’re like a one-legged stool. We can get by, but it’s precarious. So God has given us the church for support and help.”
Guy stared at the stool. He knew what it was like to only have yourself to depend on.
“Folks don’t have to belong to a church, do they? There are other groups, like the Lion’s Club or the Odd Fellows that have halls in town.”
“Run by men, for men. Social or civic clubs aren’t the same as a church, and aren’t built on the foundation of God’s Word. A man of faith lives by prayer and the Word of God.”
David ran his hand over the stool, then applied the sandpaper to a rough spot on the edge.
“When I think of all three of the parts of my life, the church, God’s Word and myself, I can see how everything works together. And all three parts are connected to God Himself.” David brushed off the seat and put the stool on the dirt floor. “Try it out.”
Guy sat, feeling the stool’s support, even on the uneven floor. “It will work fine for milking the cows.”
David grinned. “It works fine for your life, too. I urge you to think about joining the church, Guy. Not for me or for Verna, but for yourself. For your future.”
As David turned back to the workbench, putting away his tools, Guy took the new stool into the milking parlor. Was David right? That joining the church would give him a future?
Guy grabbed the manure fork and started cleaning out the aisle behind the milking stanchions. Every time he considered his future, he only saw emptiness. If Pa would come, then he’d know what to look forward to. A life like he had before Mama died, with someone he belonged to.
Carrying the loaded fork to the manure pile, he paused to gaze out the open door at the bare tree branches against the blue sky. Ever since Mama died and Pa left him at the Home, he had been waiting. Even knowing that Pa wasn’t likely to keep his straw promises, he couldn’t give up completely.
Guy turned and shoved the fork under the soiled straw again. Fat chance of that happening.
But until he was sure, until he knew for certain, his feet were stuck in the mire of doubt. There was no moving forward until Pa came back.
Chapter Eight
By Tuesday morning, Judith felt rested after her late night on Sunday. She fixed scrambled eggs for breakfast, with sausage patties and biscuits, hurrying to have the meal on the table by the time Matthew finished with the morning chores. Annie wanted to start clearing out the third upstairs bedroom today, in anticipation of Rose and Viola using it in a few months. The room had been used for storage since Annie and Matthew’s marriage, and it promised to be a lengthy project.
Before Judith put breakfast on the table, Bram drove into the yard. He jumped from the buggy and pounded up the porch steps, not taking the time to knock.
“Where’s Annie?” He strode into the kitchen, his uncombed hair framing his flushed face.
“She’s with the twins.” Judith stirred the scrambled eggs then turned to pick up Eli, who had taken refuge behind her skirts at Bram’s loud entrance. “What’s wrong?”
Bram turned to her, half laughing and half panic-stricken. “It’s Ellie. The baby is coming and she’s...she’s...”
Annie appeared in the other door, a twin in each arm. “The baby is coming? Is anyone with her?”
“Miriam is there, but she wants you and Judith, if you can come. Ellie wanted her mamm to be there, but Elizabeth has gone to her sister’s for the day.”
Annie placed a calming hand on their brother’s arm. “It’s all right. Ellie has gone through this before, and she’ll be fine. Go out to the barn and tell Matthew that Judith and I are taking the children to your house for the day and that his breakfast will be in the oven for him.”
She laughed as Bram stumbled out the door. “First-time fathers! I remember the state Matthew was in when Eli came.” She turned to Judith, her eyes lit with joy. “I suppose we had better get ready. I’ll pack diapers and extra clothes for the children if you’ll finish Matthew’s breakfast. It’s going to be a long day!”
As Annie rushed out of the kitchen, Judith jiggled Eli in her arms. “You get to play with Danny today. That will be fun, won’t it?”
Eli grinned a drooling smile, his fist stuffed partway into his mouth. “Danna, Danna!”
“That’s right.” Judith set him back on the floor and stirred the eggs once more. She took the plate of sausages she had already cooked out of the warming oven and added some of them to the skillet, then covered the skillet and put it into the oven. “Danny will be happy to see you.”
“Blocks?” Eli ran toward the front room. “Blocks.”
Judith grabbed three biscuits from the covered basket and split them open, laying a sausage patty inside each one. She took a fourth biscuit for Eli and cut a sausage patty into bites for him. At least they could eat some breakfast on the way to Ellie and Bram’s. In just a few minutes, Annie was back in the kitchen and they were ready to go.
As Bram’s horse, Partner, trotted down the road at a faster pace than Judith was used to, she handed the biscuit sandwiches around.
Bram shook his head at the offer. “I can’t eat anything.”
“You need to,” Annie said, leaning forward from the backseat. “You need to keep your strength up.”
“All right.” Bram’s growl sounded like Samuel as he stuffed the biscuit into his mouth, driving one-handed.
“And Bram,” Annie added, “don’t worry so much. Everything will be fine.”
Bram shook his head again and urged the horse to trot even faster. “You didn’t hear her. I think she must be dying, the way she was moaning.”
Annie patted his shoulder. “That’s how it is for women. And after the baby comes, she’ll forget the pain because of the delight of seeing her little one.”
Judith stared out the window. From what Bram was saying, Ellie must be having a terrible time, but Annie didn’t seem worried at all. The woman’s part in dealing with babies was a mystery to her, even after growing up on a farm. Judith hugged Eli as he sat on her lap and she jiggled the basket that held little Rose. The baby yawned, her eyelids drooping as the steady movement of the buggy put her to sleep.
When they arrived at the farm, Bram pulled up at the back door, jumping out to help Annie and Judith take the children in. Johnny, Judith’s nine-year-old nephew, met them at the door.
“How is your mamm?” Bram asked, his eyes on the closed bedroom door at the other end of the big kitchen.
“Grossmutti Miriam won’t let us in.” Johnny swung the
door open and stared at the folks Bram had brought with him.
“That’s all right,” Annie said, taking charge. “You and your daed need to go take care of the horse, and maybe you can find another task to keep you busy for a while.”
Johnny frowned. “I want to stay here with Mamm.”
Annie shooed the two of them out the door. “I know you’ll find something to do. Don’t come back in until we call you.”
Johnny planted his feet on the floor. “But I’m hungry. I haven’t had breakfast yet.”
“I’ll make something and bring it out to you,” Judith said. As much as she was curious about what was happening in the bedroom, she’d much rather make herself useful fixing meals and taking care of the little children while Annie helped Ellie.
“Coffee cake?” Johnny’s hopeful grin made her smile.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
With Bram and Johnny gone, Annie placed the sleeping twins in their baskets on the table and headed into the bedroom. She paused with her hand on the doorknob.
“Have you ever helped with a birth, Judith?”
Judith shook her head.
“We’re going to need boiling water, so keep a kettle on.” She hesitated, looking worried for the first time that morning. “Will you be all right with all of the children?”
“Susan will help me, and we’ll be fine.” Judith loved her sweet niece, and at seven years old, Susan was the perfect little mother with young ones.
Annie disappeared into the bedroom and Judith took Eli into the front room. Susan was there, playing with three-year-old Danny.
“Hallo, Susan.”
The little girl grinned at her from the floor, where she and Danny were building with blocks. “Hallo, Auntie Judith.”
“I’m going to make some breakfast. Will you be able to play with both Danny and Eli while I bake some coffee cake?”
“For sure.” Susan scooted over to let Eli take her place on the floor, then stood to whisper in Judith’s ear. “We’re going to have a new baby.”
Judith grinned at the excitement in Susan’s voice. “I know. Isn’t it wonderful?”
“Do you think it will be a boy baby or a girl baby?”
“Either one would be wonderful-gut. Which one do you want it to be?”
Susan’s face grew serious as she watched her little brother and Eli play. “I think a boy would be nice, because then he can play with Danny.” Then she turned to Judith, her face pensive. “But is it all right if I really want a little sister?”
Judith laughed and gave Susan a hug. “I don’t blame you for wanting a little sister. I’m Annie’s little sister, did you know that?”
Susan’s eyes grew big as she considered this. “But you’re a grown-up.”
“I haven’t always been a grown-up. Once I was little, like Rose and Viola.”
Susan shook her head. “I don’t remember that.”
Judith bit her lip to keep from laughing again. “I don’t remember it, either. I’m going to be in the kitchen with the babies. Be sure to call me if you need anything, all right?”
Susan nodded and went back to supervising the boys’ play. Judith peeked into the twins’ baskets when she reached the kitchen, then found a large bowl to use for mixing the cake.
As she put the cake in the oven, a sharp cry came from the bedroom, then the lusty yell of a newborn baby. It seemed that Annie had arrived just in time.
The door opened and Miriam, Ellie’s elderly aunt, came out with a basin. “We’re ready for some clean water to wash the wee babe.” Her face was one big smile, and the midmorning sunlight streamed through the window, making her hair shine in a silvery shimmer.
“Is Ellie all right? Can I tell Bram?”
Miriam nodded as she poured warm water into the basin. “She’s a beautiful little girl, with dark hair just like Susan’s.” The older woman gripped Judith’s arm. “Give us a few minutes to tidy things up, then Bram can come in. Ellie’s already asking for him.”
As Miriam went back into the bedroom, Judith ran out the back door to find Bram, flying as if she had wings. No matter what Ellie had gone through, she was blessed with a baby girl. Maybe this business of becoming a mother wasn’t such a scary event, after all.
Later, after the baby had been swaddled in soft cloths, Ellie lay in the bed resting and holding her new daughter. Judith leaned on the doorframe of the cozy bedroom with Eli in her arms, while Miriam and Hezekiah leaned against the wall on the other side of the bed. Bram had brought the other children in to meet their new sister, and at the sight of Susan’s glowing face, Judith’s eyes grew moist. The love in Bram and Ellie’s family was apparent, and so was their joy at the arrival of this new little one.
“What is her name?” The question came from Johnny, and Danny echoed it.
“What’s her name, Memmi?”
Ellie looked at Bram and he cleared his throat. “We thought a good name for her would be Margaret Ruth, after her grandmother, my mother. We’ll call her Maggie for short.”
Annie smiled as she stroked the top of the baby’s head. “That’s a fine name, Bram, and our mamm would have loved it. Little Maggie Ruth.”
* * *
March came in like a lion on Friday, with a storm that left a foot of snow on the ground. But the next day, the sun shone brightly, turning the spring air balmy. Judith sat in the wagon bed with Guy, while David Mast and Matthew rode on the high wagon seat. Matthew had replaced the wagon’s wheels with sled runners that morning and had hurried her out the door before she’d even cleared breakfast away.
“So the snowstorm means there’s more sap in the trees?” Judith asked Matthew. She still didn’t understand why everyone was in such a hurry or why they needed her help.
Matthew spoke over his shoulder. “Cold nights hold the sap back, so the storm we had slowed things down. But this sunshine and warmth means the sap will be shooting up the trees faster than a cottontail running from the hounds. My folks need all the help they can get to collect the sap.”
“Their sugar bush must be a large one.”
“Last year they made more than three hundred quarts of syrup.”
“Annie has a jar in the cellar. I wondered where she had gotten it.” Judith could still taste the delicious syrup she had eaten with her fried mush for breakfast. No wonder Matthew was excited. “I’ve never helped with a syrup harvest before, but it sounds like fun.”
“The sap only runs like this for a short time, so we need to bring it in while we can.” Matthew turned the horses at the corner, the harnesses jingling. “And we don’t harvest syrup. We take the sap from the trees and that’s boiled down to make the syrup.”
The ride to the Elam Beachey’s farm was short. Judith had been to the farm last week for the Singing, but this morning Matthew drove past the farm lane to the wood lot beyond it. As he drove into the woods, following a narrow track, Judith smelled wood smoke. The horses went around a thick clump of trees and a shack appeared, with smoke and steam pouring from the chimney. The yard around the shack was crowded with Matthew’s brothers and some older boys, with Elam, Matthew’s daed, standing on a stump in the middle of the group, assigning chores.
After welcoming them with a wave, Elam went on.
“We have four sleds now, with Matthew’s, so we’ll have four teams. Four people with each sled, and Mamm and I will work here in the sugaring shed, boiling sap.”
“Wait here,” Matthew said as he jumped off the seat. “I’ll get some cans and a barrel for our sap.”
As Guy helped Matthew load the big wooden barrel into the back of the sled, Judith watched the other three sleds head into the woods. Matthew rushed to the wagon seat as soon as he could, and drove into the woods, taking a different route than his brothers had.
“Why the hurry?” Guy asked.
Matthew laughed. “I
t’s a competition every year, to see which of us brothers can bring in the most sap. I’ve won every year so far, but those nephews of mine are getting older. Manassas and his two boys are bound and determined to win this year, but I think we’ll beat them.”
When he stopped the wagon, the four of them jumped down. A bucket sat at the base of most of the trees, under a little trough that was stuck into the trunk. Clear liquid dripped from each little spout.
Guy pulled on Judith’s sleeve. “Come with us. David is going to show us what we need to do.”
He grabbed two empty milk pails out of the back of the sled and followed David to the first tree. The bucket was nearly full.
David stepped into the deep snow at the base of the tree. “First, take anything out of the sap that doesn’t belong there.”
“What kinds of things?” Judith peered into the bucket.
David snatched a brown leaf from the surface of the sap. “Leaves, like this one. Later in the season, you might find bugs floating in it.”
Judith hoped that she wouldn’t need to help when the weather grew warmer.
David went on. “Pour the sap into your pail, then replace the bucket under the spout.”
Judith crowded close to Guy to watch. “The sap looks like water. Not like syrup at all. Are you sure this is a sugar tree?”
David nodded and moved to the next tree. “It doesn’t turn into syrup until it’s been cooked down. That’s what Elam and Sarai are doing at the sugar shack.”
Judith took her pail and went to another tree. The work was simple enough, but her milk pails filled so quickly that she was heading back to the sled after every two trees. Before she had finished a dozen trees, Matthew called to them.
“We’ve filled our barrel, so I’ll head back to the sugar shack.”
As Matthew drove off, David pointed out a smaller tree, away from where Judith and Guy had been working. “When I got to that tree, the bucket was empty. Can you see if the hole needs clearing out? I’ll go around and see if there are any others that need attention.”
Judith watched Guy take the little trough out of the tree. He broke a dead twig off a larger branch and poked it into the hole. He kept poking and wiggling the stick until the sap started flowing, carrying a few wood chips along with it.
