Food and a shower helped Sadie feel steady on her feet again. She pulled back her wet hair, pinned it up and donned a kapp and Amish dress … probably for the last time. The clothing wasn’t something she favored, but the clean dress had been hanging in her sisters’ room, and somehow it seemed right to dress Amish for this last afternoon on the farm.
The screen door slapped shut behind her as she stepped into the humid, still afternoon. The powerful sunshine that nurtured their crops seemed to weigh on her head, and she was grateful for the cooling effect of her damp hair on this hot August day. The horses seemed sluggish as Sadie passed them on the way to the maintenance shed, where Mary had told her she’d find Adam in the small woodshop.
The door creaked as she gave it a push. “Adam?”
There was movement in the shadows. Adam straightened up and put a tool on the workbench, his eyes on her directly for the first time this week.
“I came for a proper good-bye. It’s time for me to leave, but I can’t go without really talking to you.” The coolness of the shed was welcome as she stepped in. “Mike is coming to pick me up. He’ll stay for dinner, if it’s all right with you.”
“He’s welcome here. How are you feeling? The fever’s gone?”
“Ya.” The thought of Adam sitting by her bedside with Mike made her feel the bittersweet tug of the love and care she had known in the safe haven of her family.
She walked past an unfinished hope chest, trying to put her feelings to words. Say that you forgive me. Say that there’s peace between us. She knew what she wanted him to say, but how could she lead him to the topic when the words had to come from his heart?
“Thank you for allowing me to visit,” she said. “Coming home was …” She steeled herself against the realization that this wouldn’t be her home anymore. “Being here was a blessing. It reminded me of all the wonderful things that will be so hard to leave behind.” Good food, clean air … the sweet tang of summer clover and the feel of warm earth beneath her feet. All the trappings of the farm that fit her like a familiar old shoe would be sorely missed. So many good things here on the farm, though none of them compared with the love of her brothers and sisters.
“So you’re really going,” he said.
She nodded, her throat thick with emotion. Her heart ached at the thought of saying good-bye to her family. “Not a day goes by when I don’t think of you and Jonah, Mary and Ruthie. I miss joking with Gabe and Simon in the milking barn. Leah and Susie are done with school now, and Sam and Katie have grown so while I was away. I miss you all so much, my heart aches.”
“Then why are you leaving?” he asked, his voice so calm it reminded her of their dat’s peaceful way.
“Remember how Mamm used to say that sometimes the right path isn’t always the easy one? The right path for me leads away from this farm. It’s taken me a while to figure it all out, but now I know what I must do. I have a lot of work ahead of me to make myself useful through music, but you know that I’ve never been afraid of hard work.”
“There’s plenty of work for you here, Sadie.” He put the sanding block aside and rubbed his hands together in a cloud of dust. “I can’t let you go without warning you that Englisher ways are very different from ours. That world is not a safe place for an Amish girl.”
She put her hands on her hips, strengthened by the truth of her decision. “It wasn’t that long ago that you yourself left here for your own rumspringa. Three years you were gone. You saw the problems with the … the stiff ways of the Amish. No bending of the rules, no exceptions. It’s a hard life to follow.”
“I did leave here for a different life. But I was disappointed in the Englisher world. Disappointed and lonely. You and me, we are more alike than you think, Sadie. The reason I stayed away so long was not that Englisher girl. It was my craft work.”
“Working with wood?” Sadie had never heard these details of Adam’s rumspringa. Intrigued, she moved to the workbench and ran her hand over the smooth finish of a narrow piece of wood. What would it become? A chair spindle? The leg of a short table?
“I made furniture by hand, and I was successful with it. The wood … I was good with it. I had a talent, working with it, finding its grain, figuring out what a piece wanted to be. It was a good life, but it wasn’t mine. I didn’t care for the town or the people around me, and I was lonely. I was planning to come back even before Mamm and Dat were killed, but I was stuck in my ways, so proud of my work. The real shame is that Dat didn’t know I would return and join the community.”
“That always bothered you, didn’t it? Thinking that Dat was disappointed with you.”
His head tipped down toward the workbench, his voice solemn in the cool shadows of the shed. “Ya, it was a heavy weight to bear.”
“But you’re wrong if you think that Dat was angry with you. He could never stay mad at any living thing, and he never gave up on you. Mamm and Dat loved all their children, whether near or far, baptized or …” Sadie’s voice trailed off as her own words sank in. Their parents hadn’t loved Adam any less when he had gone away during his rumspringa, and if Mamm and Dat were still alive, their love for Sadie would have burned on, unwavering, like a lantern in the night.
Whether she was living Plain or fancy.
That thought reassured her, but even the approval of her family couldn’t protect Sadie from the decisions of the gemeinde. The church leaders could not accept any reason for leaving, and their disapproval of Sadie would turn community opinion against her. If she was allowed to visit in the future, she would be met with scorn and sour faces. Her life here would never be the same.
“Why must my decision to leave here cause such a stir?” she asked, thinking out loud. “I never wanted to burn bridges behind me. I want to come back and visit. I want to be here next spring when the crocuses push up and the tulips bloom … and a year from now when Sam starts school.…”
Adam shook his head. “You can’t walk two roads at the same time, Sadie. If you leave your Amish home, there’s no telling if the ministers will allow other visits. And the wedding …” He let out his breath in a huff. “Bishop Sam might not let us have you as a guest. That’s why you need to be sure of your choice, Sadie. Because you can’t drop in and out of your Amish family every time the weather changes.”
She stepped up to the workbench, facing her oldest brother. “I’m sure of my decision to go.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “I’m so very sure, but it breaks my heart. And knowing that this is the right choice for me doesn’t make it any easier to say good-bye. I feel bad about leaving our family.”
The image of Susie’s pale face came to mind, and she remembered gripping the spoon and pressing it to her sister’s dry lips through the long night. “I don’t want to bring shame to our family, but in my heart, I know I have to leave here. I can’t commit to living Amish forever, and God has blessed me with wondrous things in the world beyond our farm. I’m learning so much about music, Adam. Beautiful music that lifts the soul and gives glory to God.”
“So … you will make a joyful noise.”
She squinted at him, recognizing the quote from the Bible.
“Just not so joyful for the rest of us when you go. There will be a price to pay, Sadie. The church leaders can’t tolerate young folks leaving the faith. And as the leader of this family, I have to say that you were born and raised to be Amish. Baptism is the good and proper thing to do.”
Her heart sank and she looked away, not wanting to hear a scolding from her older brother. Of course there would be a price to pay. There would be consequences … but Sadie had hoped these things would not drive a permanent wedge between Adam and her.
The knot in her throat seemed to block her words from coming out. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice trembling, “but I have to go.”
“I was afraid of that. But I’ll pray that Gott watches over you.”
She lifted her gaze, catching a glimmer in his eyes.
“His eye is on the spar
row,” he said.
“And I know he watches me,” she finished, blinking back tears. “So you do … you understand?”
“Ya, I do. Dat would have understood. He would have kept a light burning for each and every one of us.”
Sadie swallowed, and the thick emotion eased from her throat as guilt lifted from her heart. Relief mingled with sorrow as she threw herself against her brother and hugged him hard, her face pressing into the cloth of his shirt.
“Denki, Adam,” she said as his arms closed around her reassuringly. Such an impossible choice she’d made! But now, knowing that her brother would always love her, it was just a tiny bit easier to go.
Just a tiny bit.
Dinner was a simple summer picnic set outside at the big, long tables. Sadie had helped Mary boil two dozen eggs and chop as many hot dogs and peppers to prepare a family recipe for egg salad. So delicious on a sandwich with cold pickles! Sadie felt her appetite returning. Remy and Ruthie made coleslaw, potato salad, and a green salad from the vegetables in their very own garden.
As she and Mary worked side by side in the kitchen, singing the songs their mother had taught them to mark their chores, Sadie realized this bond with her sister would remain strong no matter how far apart they lived.
She was delighted to hear Remy joining in on a few songs.
“You’ve picked up quite a bit while I was gone,” she told Remy, who had barely a trace of Englisher left in her.
“I’ve been trying my best. My Pennsylvania Deutsch has improved, too. I’ve gotten to the point where Sam and Katie understand what I’m saying. And Aunt Betsy is convinced that the chickens in their coop must be Englisher because they seem to understand me the best.”
The girls laughed. As Mary reached over Sadie’s shoulder to tuck away the spices, Sadie was hit by a wave of dizziness.
“Poor girl,” Mary said, dropping a hand to Sadie’s shoulder. “Still shaky on your feet, are you?”
“Just a little,” Sadie admitted, pressing the back of one hand to her forehead. “But the fever’s gone, and I’m thinking straight now.”
“You’re welcome to stay until you feel better,” Mary said.
“But Mike has to get back for his job at the bakery, and he’ll give me a ride.” Sadie was touched by her sister’s concern, but she was eager to go now. The next part of her life beckoned her down the lane, and she was ready to begin the journey.
As they sliced bread for sandwiches they sang “His Eye Is on the Sparrow,” and for the first time since her dat’s death there was a smile on Sadie’s face as she sang this song. Her dat’s love had been endless and unconditional, just like God in heaven. Mamm used to say that Gott always leaves a candle burning in the window so that you can find your way home in the darkest night. Mamm was right; the path had been lit for Sadie.
They were setting food out on the table when Mike’s car pulled into the lane. Sadie’s eyes swept the landscape—green grass, red barn, blue sky—and her heart lifted at the sight of his familiar car. She had to resist the urge to run to the car and give him a big hug, though her siblings were a step ahead of her. Ruthie, Simon, and Leah were already racing across the grass to greet him.
Placing a pitcher on the table, Sadie was surprised to see a second car following Mike’s. The cars pulled in beside the parked buggies and she squinted to see. Dr. Trueherz? Mike had brought his father. Well, there was plenty of food, and the good doctor was always welcome. Besides, she would like to get to know Mike’s father better. These past months, she had shared good times with Mike’s grandmother, but rarely had she seen his father outside the Paradise clinic.
“I wanted to check up on some of my favorite patients,” the doctor said when he and Mike approached the table, his black medical bag in one hand. “We’ve got to stay on top of Susie’s condition, and there’s no use in you traveling if you’re not well yet.”
“I’m feeling much better,” Sadie assured him. “But it’s kind of you to make the trip.”
“And since you’re here, you must stay for dinner,” Mary added.
Henry’s eyes twinkled as he nodded. “I’m happy to combine my visit with some socializing. I understand you and Mike have become good friends.”
Sadie felt her face grow warm at the talk of courtship. Dr. Trueherz made it sound light and breezy, as if they were discussing the weather! But Mary turned away to tend to the table, and Mike flashed Sadie an easy smile.
“Yes,” Sadie managed to say, “Mike has become a good friend. You know, your son is a fine person. He’s a helper.”
“Just like his father,” Mary said from across the table.
The doctor squinted at Mike for a moment, then clapped him on the back. “I’m proud of the man he’s become. Very proud.”
“Okay, you’re talking about me like I’m not here,” Mike said. “That’s weird.”
Over the laughter Sadie sensed that things had shifted between Mike and his father—all for the best.
A sweet breeze swirled around them as they sat down to a meal—Sadie’s last supper with her family for a long time. Mike sat across from her, his father beside him at Adam’s right hand, and as they bowed their heads for silent prayer, she thanked the Heavenly Father for bringing her to this place, surrounded by people she loved, even if it was only for one simple meal.
Adam began the conversation by thanking Dr. Trueherz for his visit. There was the usual clatter and murmur as people passed the sandwiches and salads and reached for their lemonade.
“This will be our last meal with sister Sadie,” Adam began, his words bringing the table activity to a halt. “She’s traveling back to Philadelphia with Mike. Spending the rest of the summer taking care of Katherine Trueherz.”
The breath swelled in Sadie’s chest as she felt all eyes upon her.
“My mother is looking forward to having you with her,” Henry said. “She enjoys your company, and I think she’s ready to dismiss the health care workers and regain some of her privacy.”
“Sadie’s a wonderful good caretaker,” Mary said, picking up a fresh radish. “I’ve trained her well.”
“And she’s not so bad in the barn, if you’ve got any cows to milk,” Gabe teased.
Everyone laughed, easing the moment.
“But we just got you back,” Ruthie said, a trace of sorrow in her voice. “Can’t you stay a little longer? I want you to stay with us forever and always.”
“I’m afraid not, honey girl.” Sadie met Ruthie’s eyes, sorry to disappoint her.
“Will you ever come back again?” Simon asked.
“I’ll be back to visit.” Sadie passed him the relish tray. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”
He grinned. “Not if you know how to calm a horse.”
“You’ll come for the weddings?” Leah asked.
Susie clapped a hand against her heart. “You must return in November. The celebration won’t be the same without you!”
The weddings … “I’ll come back for that,” she said, catching Adam’s stern gaze. “If the bishop allows it.”
“You can get around wild horses,” Simon said, “but Bishop Samuel? Not so easy.”
Sadie smiled at his joke, funny but true.
As talk continued she turned to the ones who planned to marry: Remy, the Englisher who had brought light back to her brother’s eyes. Sister Mary, who had been filling her hope chest with quilts since she’d begun courting Five. And brother Adam, who had left to pursue his own dream but returned to take Dat’s place at the head of the table, head of the household. In a few months they would be young Amish couples, starting families of their own.
The farm would go on, with a new batch of calves, the milking and planting and harvest. But it would go on without Sadie.
Emotion rose, overwhelming her for a moment. Such an odd mixture of excitement at her new life and sorrow over the end of her childhood here. Holding back tears, she reached under the table for the bag she had stashed there before supper. Her
plastic Walmart bag.
“There’s something I want to show you.” She eased back from the table a bit and pulled the bag into her lap. Colorful squares of fabric emerged as she rolled down the edges.
“Oooh, colors,” Katie crooned. “So many colors.”
“Ya, bold, beautiful colors. I chose them because they reminded me of the cloth we sew our dresses from. Deep blues and greens and purples.” She held up a swatch. “They’re squares for a quilt, but they’re all a little different. This one is for Simon.” She had embroidered his name there—a little rough but readable—along with an appliqué of a horse. The woman in the Walmart had shown her the collection of images, and she had fallen in love with the idea of a family quilt.
“I started the squares to pass the time on tour. There’s one for each of my brothers and sisters. And you too, Remy. And Five,” she said with a glance at Mary. “I found a big number five to add to his square.”
Mary pressed a hand to her mouth. “He’ll be glad to know he’s in the family.”
“And a book for Leah,” Ruthie said, reaching over to open a square. “What did you get for mine?”
“A flower reaching for the sun.” Sadie squeezed her sister’s shoulder. “Because you are a sweet flower and you always find the sunny side of things.”
“Oh, that warms my heart.” Ruthie pressed against her for a hug.
“And there’s a dolly on Katie’s, and a car on Remy’s to show how she came into our lives.”
“Driving off the road in an ice storm.” Remy twirled a kapp string around one finger. “It’s all part of the story, isn’t it?”
“And mine has a heart with a smiley face on it! It’s so very cute,” Susie exclaimed.
“A heart for good health and a good heart,” Sadie explained.
“What’s on my patch?” Sam asked.
“You have a chicken, because you’re wonderful good at gathering the eggs, and you’re the only person who’s not afraid of Lumpig.”
Sam grinned. “Can I see it?”
“Ya.” The chatter was lively as the patches were passed around the table, and Sadie sat back and tried to soak up the joy of being with her family.
A Simple Spring: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel Page 32
