Holding a Tender Heart

by Jerry S. Eicher

  The bishop pulled back on the reins and slowed Milo for the turn into Henry Yoder’s driveway. He stopped beside the barn, jumped out, and tied Milo to the hitching post. He rapped on the barn door and pushed on in when he received no answer. Barns were different from houses. You were expected to enter and check. The owner might well be at work somewhere inside and not hear the knock.

  “Howdy there!” Bishop Beiler hollered out. He stood still as he waited for an answer.

  A faint shout came from the direction of the haymow. Moments later a man’s legs appeared, and the rest of Henry soon followed. He slapped at the straw on his pants and took his hat off to shake it. Henry grinned. “Haymow’s about empty. I’ll sure be glad to see the first hay cutting put up.”

  “Yah,” Bishop Beiler agreed. “It shouldn’t be long now. Maybe in a week or so.”

  Henry leaned against the wooden ladder. “Thought I might try a little practice cutting myself last week. Had to pick up a new machine. You know how that goes.”

  Enough of this skirting of the issues, Bishop Beiler decided. He glanced down at the barn floor before he spoke. “Deacon Mast came by to say you had something against me, and that I’d better look into it.”

  Henry didn’t appear pleased. “That’s putting it a little harshly. You know how things get mangled up between mouths. I thought it was you who had something against me.”

  Bishop Beiler didn’t hesitate. “We have to uphold the Ordnung, Henry. There’s nothing new about that.”

  Henry dropped his head. “Each man has his weakness. Mine is that I can’t keep away from the neighbor’s tractor.”

  “And for three or four hours it sounds like.”

  Henry winced. “Remember how things get mangled up, Bishop.”

  Bishop Beiler met his gaze. “It’s time you became a better example for your family and the community, Henry. Your children are growing up and looking to you for lessons on how they should behave. We can’t have this kind of thing going on all the time. Maybe it’s time for a knee confession. Perhaps it would stick then.”

  Henry frowned. “Why would you say such things with what’s going on in your family?”

  Bishop Beiler stepped closer. “Deacon Mast told me you had something against me. Maybe you’d better tell me what it is, Henry.”

  “I’m sure the church would also wish to hear about it, Bishop. So maybe I should tell them first?”

  Bishop Beiler sighed. “That’s not going to work, Henry. I’ll tell the congregation I offered to make things right, but you held out so you could embarrass me in front of everyone.”

  Henry swallowed hard. “Okay, I’ll tell you. Your eldest daughter’s boyfriend, Joe Weaver, also seems to have a liking for Englisha vehicles. He’s been driving them around at the auction barn in Belleville for quite some time now. How’s that for being a bad example to our young people? At least I keep my things hidden behind the barn for the most part.”

  Bishop Beiler gathered his thoughts. “And you know this for sure, Henry?”

  Henry glared. “I saw him myself, Bishop. Quite a few times.”

  Bishop Beiler squared his shoulders. “Then it will be taken care of. And you can give your regular confession the same Sunday he does. But the next time I will call for a knee confession. I’m warning you, Henry, so take this seriously.”

  Henry didn’t say anything, so Bishop Beiler headed back to his buggy. So this did involve Joe Weaver. Well, confound it! he thought as he untied Milo and climbed into the buggy. Joe would confess in front of the church or he’d never bring Verna home from a Sunday-night hymn singing again. He drove Milo down the road. Now he knew the answer to the question of the Englisha girl. Debbie could move into their place. If Henry was determined to make trouble for his family, then he’d better take all the steps to help himself he could. And having Debbie live with them might keep Lois at home. Who knew but that Da Hah had supplied this very answer for his problem and he’d been too blind to see it. What better help could there be for Lois than someone living in the house who knew the Englisha world so well and could warn against its dangers?

  Bishop Beiler pondered the matter some more and felt a weight lift from his shoulders. This was indeed from Da Hah. The bishop hummed the Praise Song then allowed his voice to rise above the beat of Milo’s hooves. Even when another buggy passed him, he waved and lowered the volume only a little. The day had turned out pretty well after all. There was still the administration of church discipline that lay ahead, and what Verna likely would have to say when she heard about Joe’s transgressions, but he could handle it. Verna would have to learn that he knew what he spoke of when it came to men. Maybe she would think twice about allowing Joe to bring her home again.

  Ten

  Later that evening Verna walked into the living room. Mamm was sitting on the couch with her hands clasped in front of her, a strained look on her face. Daett was in his rocker not smiling. Had she done something wrong? But what? “You called for me, Daett?” Verna asked.

  Daett cleared his throat. “A matter has come up that concerns you, and…”

  “Me?” Verna sat on the couch. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  Her daett watched her intently and said, “If you’ll let me finish, I’ll tell you.”

  Verna fell silent. Daett was about to tell her she couldn’t see Joe Weaver again. But why? She felt the words to come would be like an ax falling toward a fallen tree limb, prepared to split it wide open. And she would split, Verna told herself. Her heart would tear at the seams. How could Daett do this to her? And for no reason at all! The date with Joe had gone so well.

  Verna’s thoughts hung in the air as her daett spoke again. “It has come to my attention that Joe Weaver is driving Englisha vehicles at the auction barn in Belleville. The ministry will be asking him to make a church confession on the matter. Normally you wouldn’t be told about these church matters, Verna, but since you’re seeing the boy, I thought you should know.”

  “But, Daett, Joe already told me”.

  Bishop Beiler raised his eyebrows. “You knew of this?”

  Verna clutched the side of the couch until her fingers hurt. “Joe told me in confidence as a confession, and it was intended to go no further.”

  Bishop Beiler sighed. “I told you to stay away from the boy, Verna. Nothing gut is coming out of any of this. Perhaps you see now why Rosy dropped him. She probably found this out herself and had the gut sense to get out of the relationship. I wish I could say the same thing for you.” Bishop Beiler looked at Verna for a moment. “Or have you cut off the relationship and haven’t told us?”

  Verna struggled to find her voice. “No, I haven’t…and I’m not going to. Something is going on here that’s not right. Driving an Englisha vehicle isn’t such a serious transgression of the Ordnung.”

  “It’s serious enough, Verna,” Mamm interrupted. “Were you not concerned when Joe told you?”

  Verna winced. “Of course I was. But he’s sorry, Daett. And he confessed on his own. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

  “Then he can say he’s sorry to everyone,” Bishop Beiler told her. “Now I’ve said enough on the matter. Tomorrow when you see Joe, you can tell him what’s coming. If he’s really sorry, he can make his way over to Deacon Mast and save the poor man a trip on Saturday. Da Hah knows this church work wears us all down to the bone.”

  Verna got to her feet and steadied herself with one hand on the couch. Her daett didn’t seem to notice her discomfort.

  “One thing more, Verna. There is a bit of gut news to come out of the day, I suppose. Debbie, your friend who wishes to board here and perhaps join the community later—I’ve decided to allow it. You can tell her whenever you wish. My house and heart are open to her request.”

  You’re trying to throw my boyfriend out of the house, but you’re welcoming in an Englisha girl? Verna wanted to say. Instead, she whispered, “That is gut news indeed, Daett.”

  “Yah, it is.” Bishop Beiler
settled back into his rocker. “You know I work hard to keep my own family in Da Hah’s will. But with Lois I seem to have failed completely. Perhaps we can do some gut to someone who sees value in our faith and, at the same time, maybe Debbie can help us with Lois.”

  Right after noticing Mamm’s sympathetic glance, Verna fled toward the stairs. At least someone was concerned about how she felt about Joe! And Daett hadn’t demanded she cut off her friendship with Joe and send him down the road like Rosy had. So was Daett trying to understand? And she must likewise try to understand where he was coming from. In the church world certain things must be done, and her daett was only doing his duty.

  Why hadn’t she been born the daughter of an ordinary man? To some daett who sat on the church benches each Sunday, farmed during the week, and gave no thought to how people watched and criticized every move he made. How peaceful that life would be. But it was sinful to wish one were in a different place from what Da Hah had willed. That much she knew. “Please forgive me, dear Hah,” Verna whispered as she rushed into her room. “I’m trying to be content, but it’s so hard. What if I lose Joe through this? It can’t happen! It just can’t!” She threw herself on the bed and buried her face in her pillow. She had to gain control of her emotions, but how? This was her first serious chance at love, and her heart would surely break if she had to stop seeing Joe. Should she tell Joe on Sunday night about the problem? Maybe that was the way out of this situation. She could act innocent and allow Deacon Mast to arrive the following Saturday afternoon and tell Joe himself. That way she could enjoy Sunday night with Joe, and they wouldn’t have to speak about this church problem. On second thought, how could she be so devious? It would involve a front of cheerfulness all Sunday evening while her heart would be in an agony of suspense. And what if Joe found out later that she knew and hadn’t told him? Hadn’t he taken her into his confidence about the incident to begin with? He would expect her to watch out for him.

  Nee, if their relationship had any chance of survival, she would have to tell him. It was the only honest thing to do. Surely Joe would understand. She’d explain what she’d been told, which wasn’t that much. Yah, she would tell him, Verna decided, as she sat up on the bed. It was high time she acted her age. There were more profitable things to fill the evening with than tears. The first was the matter of Daett’s decision on Debbie. She must be told, or rather her sisters should hear it first—Lois especially. Perhaps afterward they could all walk down and tell Debbie the gut news.

  A faint smile spread over Verna face. Yah, that would be gut. They were sisters, and like sisters they should go together. Verna walked across the hallway to Ida’s room and rapped on the door.

  “Come in!” Ida called out.

  Verna opened the door to find Ida on her bed, her nose in a book.

  “Reading, huh?”

  Ida looked up, her gaze searching Verna’s face. “What have you been crying about?”

  Vern looked away. “Nothing much.”

  Ida didn’t appear convinced. “I heard Daett’s voice downstairs. Was that it?”

  “Yah, but it doesn’t matter now. What I wanted to ask…will you go with me down to Debbie’s place to tell her Daett says she can move in whenever she wishes? I thought it would be nice if all three of us went—you, Lois, and me. Sort of like sisters inviting another sister into the family.”

  Ida’s face brightened. “That would be gut! I’m glad it’s happening.” She got up and laid her book on the bed. “Let’s go. I’ll finish when I get back.”

  “What are you reading?” Verna glanced at the cover.

  “One of Christmas Carol Kaufman’s books—Light from Heaven. It’s gut reading.”

  Verna grimaced. “Sorry, but the main character joins a more liberal church, so you’d better keep the book out of sight right now. Daett’s on the warpath.”

  Ida’s hand reached out for Verna’s. “Did Daett make you cut off your relationship with Joe? Is that it?”

  Verna shook her head as they went out into the hall and headed toward Lois’s room. Verna didn’t knock before she stuck her head in. “Ready for a little jaunt, sister?”

  “Where to?” Lois asked.

  “Down to Debbie’s. Daett just told me she can move in if she still wants to.”

  “Of course I’ll come!” Lois’s feet hit the floor, and she quickly appeared in the doorway.

  “Which room will be hers?” Ida asked.

  “I think she should have my room,” Lois offered. “I’ll take the guest room across from Emery.”

  “You just want a new room!” Verna said as she snickered.

  “I do not!” Lois protested. “It’s for practical reasons. Debbie would feel more at home closer to the two of you.”

  “I thought she was also your friend,” Ida said as they went down the stairs and stepped into the living room.

  “She is, but…” Lois stopped as her daett looked up and saw them.

  “Off to somewhere?” he asked.

  “A sisterly stroll down to Debbie’s,” Verna said.

  He looked pleased as they went out the front door.

  Lois ran on ahead once they reached the driveway. She did a little dance on the blacktop road. An Englisha car came from the west and slowed down. The passengers waved with broad smiles on their faces.

  “I think I’m blushing bright red and pink,” Verna told Ida. “That was probably a sight no tourist ever saw before. An Amish girl doing a jig for them.”

  “At least there were no cameras snapping pictures,” Ida pointed out.

  Verna laughed. “They probably dropped them from their astonishment.”

  “Yah, and broke the lenses to pieces.” Ida glanced at Verna, who broke into giggles.

  “What are you two laughing at?” Lois hollered over her shoulder as she did another twirl on the road.

  “You, of course! Stop it now,” Verna told her. “Debbie’s parents will think we’ve all lost our minds.”

  Lois held still and waited for the two to catch up. Then she deadpanned, “I think I’m leaving now that Debbie’s moving in. That’s the real reason I want the guest room. I won’t be around much longer.”

  Ida and Verna looked at each other.

  “Don’t look so shocked,” Lois told them. “You knew this was coming.”

  “But you’re not serious,” Verna chided. “You’ve said things like this before.”

  “I mean it this time,” Lois said.

  “Then you’d better tell Daett and not us,” Verna said. “I won’t believe you until that happens.”

  “Oh, I’ll tell him…eventually,” Lois said, a bit more subdued.

  “Uh huh,” Verna said. “Well, I won’t be holding my breath.”

  When they reached the Watson house, Debbie greeted them at the door. “What a surprise! I wasn’t expecting you, and certainly not all three sisters. How delightful!”

  “We came down right after we found out,” Verna said. “Daett said you’re welcome to move in whenever you want to.”

  “This is great news!” Debbie said, her face glowing. “What an answer to prayer for me. I was hoping your dad would let me know before too long.”

  “When are you coming?” Lois asked.

  Debbie thought for a moment. “I guess that depends on you. I don’t want to barge in. You might need time to adjust.”

  “We’ll clean my room at once, from top to bottom!” Lois declared. “And then I’m moving into the guest bedroom. You’ll have my room—the best bedroom in the whole house.”

  “I wouldn’t think of that!” Debbie objected. “I’m pushing no one out of her room.”

  “But you’re not pushing me out,” Lois said. “Of course, if you prefer, you could move in with me. My bedroom is large enough for two. Wouldn’t that be even more wunderbah?”

  “You would do that for me…really?” Debbie appeared thrilled.

  “Of course! We’ll be like real sisters. Almost like we grew up together.”


  Verna snuck a glance at Ida’s face as Debbie and Lois hugged each other. Ida appeared pleased. Debbie was clearly an answer to all of their prayers. She would be a stabilizing influence in their lives, especially for Lois. Truly Daett had made a wise choice.

  Debbie waved them inside. “I declare! All of you must come in and celebrate with a glass of orange juice.”

  “Are your parents at home?” Verna spoke up. “We might disturb them.”

  “They’re eating out tonight,” Debbie said. “I have the house to myself. This is such a night to remember!”

  Lois led the way inside and seated herself at the kitchen table. Verna and Ida followed. Verna smiled as Debbie poured glasses of orange juice from a paper carton. It was sweet to the taste and almost like what they pressed from ripe oranges at home.

  Debbie seemed to read her mind. “Just think, Verna, soon I won’t be using paper cartons. I’ll have the real thing.”

  Verna beamed. “Yah, and we are very glad to have you.”

  Eleven

  On Sunday night after the hymn singing, Verna stood in the soft glow of the buggy lights as Joe tied his horse to the hitching post at the Beiler house. All the way home she’d struggled to hold a cheerful thread of conversation. The dread of what she had to tell Joe was heavy to carry. Their conversation had been pleasant enough—all about the nice week of weather and the spring crops growing in the fields. Joe had been pleased with the size of the first cutting of hay. “It’ll be our best in a long time,” he said. “Daett thinks we’ll save plenty on feed costs come winter.”

  Apparently she’d done well with her responses…or perhaps Joe didn’t know her that well. Either of her sisters would have asked long ago what was bothering her.