Holding a Tender Heart

by Jerry S. Eicher

  “Yes,” she said. At least he didn’t frown at the revelation. “What’s different?” Debbie croaked.

  Emery shrugged. “There are smear marks up the side of the pan. Lois would never do that. But that shouldn’t change how the cake tastes. That is—if you didn’t miss a cup of flour or something.”

  “Emery!” Lois snapped. “Behave yourself. Debbie made a perfectly gut carrot cake.”

  Debbie stared at the cake pan. Indeed, there were smudges up the side of the pan and now baked on in dark brown. She would have to remember that the next time she emptied batter into a cake pan. Mercy sakes, there were more things to cooking than she’d imagined. No wonder she didn’t like it.

  “She’s never cooked around here before,” Emery said, which jerked Debbie out of her thoughts. “Has she cooked at home?”

  Debbie cast around for something to say, but Lois beat her to it.

  “That’s a nasty question to ask, Emery. Maligning a woman’s character like that. I personally oversaw the making of this cake, and Debbie did just fine. So there!”

  Emery obviously didn’t buy a word of this. He wrinkled up his nose and poured gravy onto his mashed potatoes.

  Debbie glanced at Lois, and they both smiled. If he’d seen the flour bowl fly across the room earlier in the day, he wouldn’t dare touch the cake!

  “I’m sure Debbie did just fine,” Bishop Beiler said. “I was here while she stirred the batter. In fact, I’ll be the first one to taste it when we’re ready. We’ll see what kind of cake we have.”

  “Oh! Please, don’t do it!” Debbie begged. “You don’t have to do that, Bishop Beiler. The cake might be awful.”

  “It might kill you,” Emery teased.

  “Emery!” Bishop Beiler had reproof in his voice. “Debbie’s expressing a proper humble attitude for a young woman to have. I like that. And I’m sure the cake will be fine. In fact, let’s settle this matter right now. Slide the cake over here, Mamm.”

  “I’ll get the clean plates then.” Saloma leaped to her feet. She went to the counter and grabbed a stack. “Here they are.” She placed the plates within the bishop’s reach, along with a sharp knife.

  The bishop cut a large piece, transferring it to a smaller plate. He sectioned off a portion with his fork and took a bite. A thoughtful look came across his face as he chewed.

  Oh, she was going to die if this turned out horribly! Debbie thought.

  The bishop appeared pleased. “Perfect!” he pronounced. “The best I’ve tasted in a long time.”

  “You’re just saying so,” Emery protested. “Let me check it out.”

  “But it’s not time for dessert,” Saloma said, apparently pushed beyond her level of tolerance by this break in routine.

  “Let him try it,” Bishop Beiler overruled. “Let the boy see what kind of cake our Englisha girl has stirred up.”

  Emery cut a small piece and popped the portion into his mouth.

  “There! Now we’ll see who was right!” Lois launched into Emery before he even swallowed, “Isn’t the cake just a marvel?”

  “Not too bad,” Emery allowed once he could speak.

  A satisfied expression settled over the bishop’s face.

  Saloma didn’t wait long before she proclaimed, “Okay! Now that is settled! We can get back to our meal. Pass the corn, Verna. It’s already getting cold.”

  “You did okay!” Ida whispered in Debbie’s ear.

  The hot and cold flashes ran up and down Debbie’s back again, but this time from pleasure. She’d never thought praise for a simple thing like a baked cake could mean so much. She filled her own plate as the good dishes were passed around and listened to the chatter of conversation. Her cake was soon forgotten as subjects ranged from the plans for tomorrow’s church service, which would be held at Deacon Mast’s place, to how they would drive home from the Sunday-night hymn singing.

  Verna’s face had fallen at the mention of the hymn singing, but she hid it with a drop of her gaze until she gathered her composure. Debbie noticed Ida had reached under the table to squeeze her sister’s hand. The two gave each other quick smiles and soon joined in the conversation.

  After supper they all followed Bishop Beiler into the living room, leaving the dishes on the table. The bishop sat in his rocker, opened his Bible, and read a portion of scripture from the book of Ephesians, starting with, “Be ye therefore followers of God, as dear children; and walk in love…”

  Debbie settled on the couch and allowed the feelings from earlier to overtake her again. How wonderful that she was really living in the Beiler home…an Amish home. This was exactly what she’d longed for all these years.

  Bishop Beiler finished reading the scripture passage, and they all knelt in prayer. Afterward, Debbie followed the three girls and Saloma back into the kitchen. Emery headed upstairs in a rush over something.

  “He’s leaving before long,” Lois whispered in Debbie’s ear. “Emery’s spending the night out somewhere. He sometimes doesn’t come back until early morning.”

  Debbie nodded as she remembered Emery was on his rumspringa time. “That’s nice to know. If he comes creeping up the stairs tonight I won’t be scared,” Debbie whispered back.

  Lois giggled. “Sometimes I go with him, but Emery’s not a lot of fun. He doesn’t do Englisha stuff.”

  Debbie picked up several plates and carried them to the counter. Saloma stopped her when she came back for more. “The two girls and I will take care of the supper dishes, Debbie. Maybe you and Lois want to walk down to your parents’ place. Let them know how you’re doing on this first night of your stay here.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Lois said at once. “Let’s do it.”

  “I guess,” Debbie said. “But Mom knows where I’m at.” She hadn’t thought about a visit home this soon.

  “It would still be gut to touch base with your mother,” Saloma insisted.

  “Come on.” Lois pulled on her arm.

  Debbie followed but sent a protest over her shoulder. “I should help with the dishes.”

  “You’ll have plenty of time for dishes another time,” Saloma called after them.

  Once they were outside, Debbie headed toward her car, while Lois took a few steps in the other direction. She stopped and looked at Debbie. “Mamm said to walk.”

  Debbie shook her head. “I’d be more comfortable driving.”

  Lois stayed where she was, and Debbie climbed into her car. She found her keys in the glove compartment. She couldn’t explain why she felt taking the car was necessary. Maybe her mother would feel better if she drove in instead of arriving on foot. The Amish culture shock might be less severe. There would be plenty of time to walk to her parents’ place later.

  Lois finally shrugged and climbed in when Debbie drove the car over and stopped beside her. She probably figured this was Englisha laziness, Debbie decided, but she didn’t really wish to explain. Lois didn’t protest during the short ride, but she spent the time brushing imaginary crumbs off her dress.

  Debbie laughed. “Mom knows we’ve both been working. And your dress is clean anyway.”

  “Just making sure.” Lois gave her dress another couple of swipes as they climbed out of the car.

  No one answered her knock, so Debbie walked on in. Both her parents were sitting on the couch with the TV on. Her dad hit the remote when she appeared with Lois close behind.

  “Well, who comes in here?” Joy spread over her dad’s face. “Are you settled in at your new abode?”

  “I think so.” Debbie bent over to give him a hug. “I thought I’d come down and let you know that all is going well. Actually, Saloma suggested I come.”

  “Do sit down.” Her dad motioned toward the other couch. “And hello, Lois. How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine,” Lois chirped. She looked around as usual, but mostly she stared at the picture on the TV.

  “Just watching another episode of Mad Men,” Debbie’s dad said. “What a series! Absolutely
amazing how they’ve recreated the sixties.”

  “Dastardly series if you ask me,” Debbie’s mother complained. “Men treated women horribly back then.”

  Lois followed the conversation wide-eyed until Debbie interrupted. “I guess we’d better head back. I still have to see about what to wear tomorrow. Are either of you going to church?”

  “I think I’m going,” her mother said. “I don’t know about Herbert. Depends on how late he stays up watching TV.”

  Her dad laughed. “Debbie, why don’t you come by at the regular time, and you can ride with us? If you’re still attending our church, that is.”

  “Yes, that’s fine,” Debbie agreed. “I’m not quite up to attending an Amish church service just yet. She pulled on Lois’s arm. If she didn’t get the girl out of the house soon, Lois was going to plop down on the couch and join her dad in watching Mad Men. Debbie figured she’d never get Lois home then. And she certainly didn’t want to explain it to the bishop.

  Lois was still looking over her shoulder as they reached the front door. When they went outside and climbed into the car, Lois asked, “What was that wunderbah show about, Debbie?”

  “It’s not something you want to see,” Debbie assured her. “It’s from a totally different world.”

  “That’s what I liked about it.” Lois was entranced as Debbie drove out of the driveway. “I like worlds different from mine. That’s why I like you, Debbie.”

  Debbie nodded. “Thanks, Lois. You’re a wonderful friend, but my world isn’t what you think it is.” Lois didn’t look convinced, but Debbie decided she’d keep saying it until the truth sank in. Bishop Beiler might have allowed her to stay in his house for this very reason. Her moderating influence on Lois might be something the bishop was counting on.

  When they arrived back at the Beilers’, Debbie parked the car beside the buggies. They climbed out, and Lois led the way inside. In the kitchen Ida was stacking the last of the dishes in the cupboards. Debbie offered to help, but Saloma waved them on upstairs. “You’ve done enough today, both of you. Go and finish unpacking and get your jabbering out of you. I don’t want noises coming from your bedroom late into the night.”

  “Thank you for everything,” Debbie told Saloma before she followed Lois up the stairs.

  In their room, Lois held one of Debbie’s best summer dresses—a bright-yellow polka dot—high in the air in front of her. “May I try this one on?” she begged. “Please? I’m going to weep all night if I can’t. Especially now that I’ve seen it. Just thinking about how it will look sends shivers up and down my back.”

  Debbie closed the door behind her. She looked for a lock, but there was none. “What if someone sees you, Lois? Your dad will think I’m corrupting you.”

  “You promised!” Lois clutched the dress closer.

  “Well, okay,” Debbie conceded.

  Lois’s face glowed as Debbie helped her drop the dress over her head and settle it on her shoulders. The Amish girl seemed quite adept as she fastened the buttons, which Amish dresses didn’t have. She turned around and asked for Debbie’s help with the zipper. When they were finished, Lois pulled the hand mirror from a dresser drawer and spent long minutes looking at herself, repeatedly moving the mirror up and down to see the full dress.

  “Like it?” Debbie asked. Lois was beautiful, she thought. And if she were honest, Lois had natural grace. But Debbie wasn’t about to admit that fact out loud. Lois needed no encouragement in this area.

  “It’s absolutely divine!” Lois exclaimed. “I feel like I’m going to float away on the clouds and never come back.”

  Debbie laughed. “I don’t think it’s quite that good. Now, help me into one of your dresses.”

  Lois came out of her trance. “You want to try on one of my dresses?”

  “Yes, if you don’t mind.”

  “I guess, but they’re ugly, Debbie. Are you sure?”

  “I don’t think they are ugly.”

  Lois took in a long breath and went to her closet. She brought out a dark-blue dress. Skepticism was written all over her face.

  Debbie held out her arms, and Lois helped her slide the dress on.

  What followed was a long pinning of dress pieces and a few yelps from Debbie when she tried to do some of the pins herself.

  Lois giggled. “It takes practice, believe me. You push the pin in, holding your finger underneath for protection. Then you push it out again, so you don’t get stuck with the point during the day.”

  Debbie tried the next pin with better success, and soon the task was completed.

  Lois handed her the mirror, and Debbie repeated Lois’s process from earlier.

  “It does look a little better on you than on me,” Lois allowed.

  “It’s divine!” Debbie said. Both girls dissolved into a fit of giggles and fell on the bed thinking how odd this was. An Englisha girl in an Amish dress, and an Amish girl in a bright-yellow polka dot outfit.

  Debbie’s life with the Amish had surely begun, and someday, hopefully, she would take it all the way. Before long she would attend an Amish church service—if Bishop Beiler would allow it. Not this Sunday, but soon. Debbie could feel it in her bones. But right now there was work to do. She had to separate the clothing she didn’t absolutely need so she could drop them off at the thrift store next week. And she needed to keep Lois away from the makeup kit until she figured out what to do with it.

  Fifteen

  When the time came for Joe’s church confession, Verna kept her head down. This horrible day had started hours ago when church began. As usual, she was seated in the older girls section for the three-hour church service. Now the last note of the last song rang in the air. Her daett stood. Verna knew most everyone expected dinner in a few minutes, but she knew what was coming. Today’s church confessions lay ahead of them. Joe, and likely Henry Yoder, who was the culprit in all of this, were going to experience the public humiliation that fell on transgressors of the Ordnung.

  Everyone waited in silence as Bishop Beiler’s voice swept through the house. “Now that Da Hah has blessed us with another day of worship, will the members please stay seated while the others are dismissed?”

  There were no groans as might be expected in an Englisha environment. The Amish were too reverent for such things. There were a few startled looks as the nonmembers rose and poured out of the house.

  Verna glanced over at Joe. He’d refused to look her way even once during the long church service, even though he sat in plain sight in the unmarried boys section. Thankfully she noticed he wasn’t making eye contact with any other girls either. Perhaps there was still hope their broken relationship could be mended. If Joe would so much as glance in her direction, she’d send him the sweetest smile she could manage. It didn’t matter who else might see it at this point. She would let them think what they wished.

  The slam of the front door rang through the house and jerked Verna out of her thoughts. She glanced around to see a few of the younger girls peeking out of the kitchen doorway. Bishop Beiler gave them a brief stare, and they vanished. He turned to the people sitting on the benches.

  “As we all know, Da Hah’s vineyard needs work done to it from time to time. None of us ministers would object if He were here Himself to care for His people, but Da Hah is not. He has left us in charge. So we wish to proceed today with humility and brokenheartedness. It gives none of us joy to exercise church discipline, but it must be done.” Bishop Beiler paused and nodded at the row of ministers who sat with bowed heads. “It has come to our attention that two of our brethren have been found in transgression. It is always a serious matter when the Ordnung is broken. These are rules we have all agreed to live by as part of our community. It troubles all our hearts when trust among the people of Da Hah is breached. I ask that our brothers Henry Yoder and Joe Weaver please leave the room. We will call them back inside when we are finished.”

  Verna held her hand over her heart as Henry stood, followed by Joe. They both walk
ed down the benches to the aisle. Joe looks so troubled, Verna thought. But he’s doing what is required of him. Isn’t that a gut sign? Oh, if only some hope could rise in her heart. If Joe only knew how she ached for him. Perhaps then he’d give her at least a small sign. Perhaps even a hint of a kind look. She watched as the two brethren walked toward the door. Joe’s gaze didn’t stray from the floor. Didn’t he understand that she had no part in this matter? Hadn’t Daett explained who had told the ministers about his transgression?

  When the men had exited and the door closed behind them, Bishop Beiler lifted his head. He spoke with a steady voice. “Both of our brethren have agreed to this confession, for which we are grateful. And now I will present what happened to see if the church is willing to accept their confessions. Some of our youngest members may ask why we cannot accept confessions without the voice of the church, so I will take some time this morning to explain that.”

  A few of the men settled lower on the benches. This would take some time, but Verna really didn’t care. The end would come with Joe seated on the front row, where he would speak his confession of failure. Verna forced her mind back to what her daett was saying.

  “The early church had such a standard. They believed that all members should be involved in deciding if a transgressor had truly repented and if his punishment was suitable to the sin. With that in mind, we will now proceed.”

  Bishop Beiler paused for a moment. “Henry Yoder has in the past confessed to the problem of using his Englisha neighbor’s tractor to pull around the new equipment he buys. Henry understands this is against the Ordnung, and yet he continues to fail in his attempts to resist this temptation. So the ministry recommends that another confession be taken at this time. Deacon Mast has also visited the Englisha neighbor, asking him to respect our ways. Perhaps he can be an aid to Henry by refusing to loan his tractor. We have no hold on the Englisha neighbor, but he has, in his kindness, told us that he will consider our problem and our solution. For this, Deacon Mast has heartedly thanked him. If these solutions don’t stop Henry from further transgressions, we expect other disciplines will need consideration.”