“What’s happened?” Emma asked.
“I went to look for Jeramiah,” Jarron said. “Like you asked.”
“And?” Emma asked eagerly.
“I found him,” Jarron swallowed.
“I knew you would,” Emma smiled but her smile faltered when Jarron didn’t look happy about it. “Did he refuse to come? Did you tell him about Sarah and the boppli?”
“No,” Jarron said. “I couldn’t Emma.”
“Why ever not?” Emma was perplexed. “He has a right to know, you heard Bishop Amos.”
“Emma,” Jarron said. “Jeramiah’s dead.”
“What?” Emma gasped.
“He died eight months ago and no one knew,” Jarron said.
“How?” Emma’s voice was faint.
“A car accident,” Jarron said, “I don’t know how we will tell Sa-”
A loud thud of something heavy falling came from the kitchen. Jarron and Emma rushed in to find Sarah sprawled on the floor in a dead faint.
*
“Yours was the last name he called,” Emma soothed the hair off of Sarah’s face with a damp cloth. “He must have still loved you Sarah.”
“I never doubted his love for me,” Sarah sobbed quietly. “It was his human failing to fall for the devil’s temptations in this world. But his excommunication has ensured we will not be together in the hereafter,” Sarah’s words drowned in a sea of helpless tears. “Ach, take me to him!” she wailed.
Martha pressed Sarah’s feet to ease out the knots in her calves. Mamm sang hymns and Daed read from the Bible. They all sat with Sarah through the night, keeping a vigil for a man who died eight months ago.
The next morning Sarah sat in the buggy for a journey that would be taxing on her frail body but she had insisted and the family knew there was no going around it. They drove to the English town, past familiar streets and the Amish Goods Shop.
Off the main street the church rose high and white, the bell in its tower still for the day, the birds playing hide and seek in the trees, calling out to their mates and nestlings. Behind the church, the gravestones were in various states of disrepair. The old ones were crumbling to dust while the new ones shone with the occasional bouquet of flowers placed in front of a well-loved lost soul.
They found Jeramiah’s grave after fifteen minutes of searching the rows. A heap of dried leaves and twigs was scattered near the headstone obscuring the name Yoder. Sarah knelt on the hard ground, her protruding belly skimming the long grass, her apron stained green. She said a silent prayer, and succumbed to the tears that had been threatening the back of her throat.
The Bontrager’s kept a respectful distance, letting Sarah indulge in her moment of grief. After a decent time had elapsed, Emma walked over and knelt down beside Sarah, holding her shoulders for comfort.
“I had hoped,” Sarah said in a toneless voice, “I had hoped that he would come back to the faith,” her fingers were tearing at the grass distractedly. “Because I wished that if Gott had willed him not to be a part of my remaining life on this earth, we would be together after, in Gott’s Heaven.”
“But that is not going to be now,” Sarah wailed. “My sweet Jeramiah is lost to me forever!”
Emma hugged Sarah and Martha and Mamm strode over to help lift Sarah into the wagon. Isaac and Ruth stared from their weeping mother to the headstone that was all that remained of their father on this earth and the children stood stricken to the spot, their bewilderment at the events of the last year visible in their dull eyes and fearful glances.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Visit and the Promise
The smell of cinnamon spiced apples wafted through the house. Every corner and crevice smelled of apple pie and Martha was sure Daed was impatient for dinner, apple pie being his favorite dessert. Sarah and Emma were coming along to partake in Sunday dinner at the Bontrager home and Martha had been up since cock crow to make sure the meal was to everyone’s liking.
The Bontrager family had faced many blows recently; the departure of Jeramiah, Sarah’s pregnancy and eventual illness, Jeramiah’s demise and Emma’s inability to have children. But they were a strong family, with stronger faith and they counted their blessings every time the chips were down and were a tight unit against adversary.
Martha was also hopeful of turning their ill luck around. Jacob had been courting her for a month now and Martha was sure that his intentions were of marriage. They were both long out of their rumspringa and courtship for them was not about flirting for the thrill of it but to find a partner they respected and who made them happy.
Jacob had hinted at procuring the house and barn of old Mr. Byler who had died without any heir. He had shared his secret dream of a barn full of cows to tend to and a chicken coop in the back. Jacob wanted to trade in milk and eggs with the English grocery store as well as provide meat and dairy to his father’s restaurant.
“All I need is someone to help me run it,” Jacob had smiled mischievously at Martha and she had blushed.
Martha hummed and basted the roast turkey in the wood oven. She noticed the fire dwindling down and added another log. There was a loud knock on the door. Martha cleaned her hands on a tea towel and rushed to see who it could be.
“Hallo, Ant Lizzie,” Martha greeted her maternal aunt. A thin woman, she had a thin nose and narrow eyes. Sarah used to joke that she looked like a cross grasshopper when they were younger.
“Hallo to you too,” Aunt Lizzie said, coming into the house. “Where are your parents? Ach, there you are.”
Aunt Lizzie strode purposefully inside and took a seat on the armchair nearest the fireplace next to Mamm. Daed looked up from his newspaper long enough to grunt a greeting then went back to pursuing the latest agricultural news. Martha went into the kitchen to fix everyone hot chocolate. The weather was getting colder day by day and the colors of fall were turning to the stark greys and whites of winter.
“How are you, Lizzie?” Mamm asked, looking up from the cross stitch she was attending to. “And how are Elizabeth and Trudy.”
“They are well, as am I,” Aunt Lizzie said. Martha could hear them clearly from the kitchen. “I have come to speak to you about an urgent matter,” Aunt Lizzie proclaimed importantly and Martha had to suppress a smile. Everything Aunt Lizzie did or had to say was of the most importance to her. “I did not volunteer to do this, but my help has been enlisted and I could not, in gut consciousness refuse the task.”
“And what task is that?” Daed sounded bored. His face was still firmly behind his newspaper.
“I have been asked by Sam Lapp to intervene,” Aunt Lizzie said with great pomposity and Martha’s hand stilled over the hot pan, the steam and flames reaching up to devour her skin but she did not notice. “They do not like their son Jacob courting Martha, because of Martha’s English past,” Aunt Lizzie said delicately. “They have asked Jacob to abandon the courtship but he has refused so they have asked my help. They are begging that Martha should end the courtship.”
Martha pulled her hand back from the flames, her skin red and angry but she didn’t feel the slow burn. Her heart was burning far worse. She stepped out into the living room. It was no use pretending she hadn’t heard, Aunt Lizzie had been speaking at the top of her lungs.
“He is a good boy,” Aunt Lizzie said kindly, “and so is our Martha. But people have been talking and it is bringing shame to the Lapp’s. People are questioning just how chaste the courtship is because,” Aunt Lizzie faltered, her eyes falling to the floor in shame. Daed’s face was brick red. “The Lapp’s want an end to the gossip. They fear that though Martha has been accepted into the church she will not make a good wife to Jacob because she is tainted beyond repair.”
Mamm’s lips were pressed so tightly they were a thin white line. Daed looked defeated, his shoulders slumping down. Martha had hoped to make them happy after the hardship and pain she had given them all those years she had been away, especially now when they were worried sick about Sarah. But
it seemed Gott would not have them all be happy. Either she thought of her happiness and brought them more shame, or she thought of their peace of mind and let Jacob go.
“I’ll do it,” Martha said tonelessly. Daed looked at her as if he understood the pain this was causing her.
“Duchder,” he said, “I thought Jacob made you happy.”
“He does,” Martha shrugged. “But if I have learnt anything it is that no child can remain happy by hurting their parents to achieve that happiness. I will not bring you more pain and shame Daed.”
“You are a gut girl, Martha,” Aunt Lizzie said. “A credit to your parents. The Lapp’s will be very happy.”
Martha smiled weakly even though her heart was breaking. What was worse was that she could see the same heartbreak magnified in the eyes of her Mamm and Daed, who felt her pain as if it were their own. Even when trying to save them from it, Martha had still caused them agony.
*
The quilt was nearly finished. Martha traced her hands along the thread, the small ridges in the fabric only felt by the whorls of her finger pads, invisible to the naked eye. This is how Gott must view the world and our lives within them, Martha thought. The intricate lifts and falls that only he can see, and how they form ripples in the ocean of life, having effects our tiny minds cannot foresee or even comprehend. Gott’s plan is greater than the entire universe and us smaller than the tiniest grain of sand upon it.
The thought gave her comfort.
The bell on the door jangled and Martha stood up from her rocking chair to attend to the customer. Jacob stood at the counter, his hat in his hands. He wasn’t smiling like he usually did. His blue eyes were dark and stormy.
Martha felt the ground beneath her legs turn to jelly. She braced herself for his harsh words and his sense of betrayal.
“Hallo, Martha,” he said and Martha could sense the gravel of hurt underlying it. “I get the sense you’ve been avoiding me.”
Martha nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak. Her stomach was caving into her pelvis.
“Don’t I deserve an explanation as to why?” Jacob asked, spreading a beseeching hand.
“You’re parents are not happy with our courtship,” Martha finally said.
“I am happy with it,” Jacob said slashing his hand through the air decisively. “You’re happy with it. That is all that matters.”
“Nee,” Martha shook her head. “It does not.”
Martha came forward and took Jacob’s hand in her own.
“You have never disappointed your family before so you do not know the consequences of these actions,” Martha said quietly. “I have and look at what it has done. The whole community has accepted me as one of the faith but they still question my purity, they still think of me as other. We are having this conversation because of my foolish actions. I don’t want you to suffer with me.”
“Do you think you can be happy without me?” Jacob asked, lifting her chin up so she could look deep into his eyes.
“No,” Martha said. “But I was never happy so it makes no difference.”
“It makes a difference to me.”
“We cannot be together until your parents agree to the match,” Martha sighed.
“I will marry you, Martha Bontrager,” Jacob promised, a determined sparkle in his eyes. “You wait and watch. I will marry you in front of the entire community that hurts you and judges you. I will make you my wife and you need never be unhappy again.”
“But till then,” he held her hand to his chest before letting go, “I will honor your wish and not make the gossip mongers talk about us. Till our wedding day,” he placed his hat on his head, winked at her in his usual mischievous fashion and left the store.
Martha didn’t know whether she should laugh or cry.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The Secret
The chill permeated the wooden walls and touched every surface in the house. Breath was no longer invisible, pluming in the mouth and coming out as dragon smoke. The children laughed at their pink faces and their cold noses. It had rained for the past two days, the earth had turned to mush and the animals huddled close for warmth in the barn at night. Winter was slowly sinking its teeth into autumn, which was reluctantly giving way.
Warmth spilled from the pool of light around the wooden stove in the kitchen where Sarah’s cot had been placed. She lay there prone during the day, watching Emma work. Emma kept up the cheerful chatter for her benefit, trying to coax her to eat a little bit of this, a little bit of that but secretly she had been worrying.
Sarah had gotten frailer still since they learned of Jeramiah’s demise a week ago. Her time was near and Emma worried she might not survive the ordeal. Emma touched her belly superstitiously. She had been holding onto her secret for two months now, hoping against hope that it would become more than a secret soon.
“And I said to Martha,” Emma said, casually stirring the sauce, “She shouldn’t have rejected that poor boy. This community has a nasty habit of indulging in gossip. If they would concentrate more on Gott’s word and not on who is courting whom, we would have a much easier time on this planet. Try this,” Emma thrust the stirring spoon in front of Sarah’s chapped lips.
“Emma,” Sarah croaked. Emma put the stirring spoon into the pot and brought a cool glass of water for Sarah. Sarah took a small sip and nodded gratefully. “Emma, how will I ever thank you for all you have done for me?”
“Please, Sarah,” Emma said, tears in her eyes. “You are my sister. And you did far more for me when Eli…” Emma looked away, blinking furiously against the tears. “I would do anything for you!”
“It gladdens my heart to hear you say that,” Sarah breathed. “Will you make me a promise?”
“Anything, Sarah, you know it,” Emma clasped Sarah’s weak hands.
“Will you look after Isaac and Ruth?” she asked desperately. “Will you look after my children after I’m gone?”
Emma’s blood froze in her veins. She had never allowed herself to think that Sarah could die. She had assured herself that once the boppli was born, Sarah would get the help she needed. But it looked like no matter what Emma hoped for or planned for Sarah had given up.
“Please don’t talk like that,” Emma pleaded. “You’re not going anywhere. Gott willing, you will stay with us till you are grey haired and old with a few grosskinner on your lap.”
“That is not Gott’s will, Emma,” Sarah said.
“Who are we to know His will?” Emma cried in despair. “His will might be to let you live, to cure your illness with a miracle.”
“My children are my miracle,” Sarah smiled. “I have had many miracles, the summers and sunsets I have seen, the joys of marriage I have known with Jeramiah and the product of our union, our children. Please promise you will take care of them.”
“I promise,” Emma said. “But you must promise me not to give up. I won’t be able to stand it if you gave up.”
“What is the point of persisting?” Sarah closed her tired eyes.
“Isaac and Ruth and the new boppli,” Emma said gently, “they are enough reason to persist. To keep Jeramiah’s memory alive, to pray for his forgiveness so you may be together in the hereafter. That is the reason to persist. If we do not persist in our hopes of happiness, Gott will not grant them to us.”
Emma took Sarah’s withered hands and placed them on her belly.
“I persisted, Sarah,” Emma said quietly. “I persisted after the many miscarriages, after the many false hopes and the painful lack of a boppli in my arms and I think Gott has finally blessed me with one.”
“Ach, Emma!” Sarah’s face was radiant with happiness. “I pray that it is so. You are a great mother to my children, you will be even greater to your own. Have you told Jarron yet?”
“Nee,” Emma blushed. “I am waiting for five months to pass to be sure. I am hoping that this Christmas I can give him the gut news of being a Daed.”
“He will be thrilled,” Sarah sighed
, “Gott willing.”
“But see, Sarah,” Emma soothed loose strands of hair from Sarah’s sweaty forehead. “Maybe Gott’s plan isn’t as bad as we think it is. There is hope at the end of every hardship. We just need to look for it persistently.”
“That maybe so,” Sarah held Emma’s hand. “But I have lost the rock I could lean on. My Jeramiah has been taken away from me.”
“He still remains within you,” Emma consoled. “Take strength from his memory like I did with Eli’s when he passed away. Jeramiah will be loath to see you in so much pain. It will make his passage so much harder if his soul is bound to your sorrow on this earth.”
Sarah didn’t reply. She closed her eyes. They itched constantly, her breath was hot and ragged but her body was cold.
Isaac and Ruth tiptoed in to see their mother. Emma waved them over and they sat gingerly on the cot at their mother’s feet. Ruth had a dirt smear on her cheek but before Emma could lift her hand to clean it, Isaac had already rubbed it off.
It was sweet how close the brother and sister had gotten over the past few months. Isaac, who would be loath to have Ruth trailing him like a shadow, now comforted her in the dark of night and even waited for her to catch up on the way to school. Ruth for her part tried to be less of a nuisance to her older brother, saving a choice candy for him and even giving him half of her cake once in a while.
They were gut children, Emma thought, kindhearted and responsible. Sarah had done a gut job raising them and even though Emma would have loved the chance to mother them, she knew that the loss of Sarah would be too great for this family to withstand.
Emma squeezed Sarah’s hand, trying to give her warmth and the will to fight.
An Amish Christmas With the Bontrager Sisters Page 5
