“Yah, the very one,” Lois had said.
“But isn’t he still angry?” Debbie had wondered.
“He’s supposed to be humbled,” Lois had told her. “But I doubt it. Still, there’s no reason we can’t have church at his place. Anyway, these things are scheduled a year or so ahead. They can be changed only under the direst of situations.”
All of this intrigue fascinated Debbie. She’d grown up around the Amish, and yet she knew so little about them and their traditions. Only after Bishop Beiler had opened his home to her had she been allowed to see the inside workings of the community. What a blessing that was! And she was most thankful. What if Bishop Beiler hadn’t allowed her to stay? Debbie winced at the thought. She wouldn’t be on her way to the services this morning with Verna and Lois, for one thing. “Thank you, Lord, for watching over me,” Debbie prayed silently as Lois guided Buttercup down the Yoder driveway. Their buggy bounced toward the line of several other buggies that had stopped at the end of the sidewalk where shawl-draped women climbed out, taking their time as they extracted smaller children from the backseats.
Verna gave a little wave as they went past and whispered to Lois, “Slow down. You don’t have to make such a grand entrance.”
“I’m showing off my visitor!” Lois pulled Buttercup to a stop beside a line of parked buggies.
She was doing nothing of the kind, Debbie thought as she watched the line of men standing near the barn who were now looking their way. Lois wanted attention for herself, even if she had no plans to stay Amish.
“Now you have Paul coming toward us,” Verna hissed as they climbed out of the buggy.
Lois made a face. “I do declare he’s got his eye on you, Verna.”
“He does not!” Verna retorted.
“Then who else is he looking for?” Lois shot back.
Verna colored slightly but had recovered by the time Paul arrived.
Lois cooed, “If it isn’t Mr. Charming himself. I didn’t think you stooped to helping poor girls unhitch.”
Paul laughed. “I do declare it’s the bishop’s daughters themselves. And who is this charming visitor who graces your buggy this morning?”
Debbie turned to face the full force of this man’s charm, of which he had plenty, she had to admit. “I would be Debbie Watson, an outside girl,” she told him, giving a quick nod of her head. “And I’m staying at the Beilers.”
“Yah, we’ve all heard about the pretty Englisha girl living at the Beilers,” he said, his grin broadening. “But why are you in…well…Amish clothing?” As he talked, he was undoing the tugs on their buggy.
“Leave her alone!” Lois snapped. “She’s not for you.”
“Mind your own business.” Paul dismissed Lois with a wave of his hand.
Debbie glared at him. It was time she changed her tactic. “Maybe I misspoke. I really meant to say that I’m a visiting Amish girl.”
Paul laughed. “You can’t fool me. I suppose you speak Dutch then?”
“Okay, so I’m Englisha,” Debbie pronounced the German word with care. “Now are you happy?”
“Yah, I am. And I hope you feel welcome,” Paul said, still grinning. “At least I’m doing my part to welcome you by coming out to help unhitch.”
“Glad to hear you’re gut for something,” Lois said, sinking in her barb as she handed him the tie rope.
Paul ignored Lois as he clipped on the tie rope and led Buttercup toward the barn.
“I think you blew our young charmer off his feet,” Verna whispered to Debbie as the three girls headed toward the house.
“I didn’t intend to,” Debbie whispered back.
Lois said out of the corner of her mouth, “I think our Paul’s taken quite a shine to you.”
Seventeen
Some fifty minutes later Debbie sat on a hard, backless bench inside Henry Yoder’s house trying to hold still. The service had begun less than an hour ago, but already it felt longer. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been warned last night about the discomforts of an Amish church service. Lois had made that clear in her description of the three-hour service that went from nine to twelve.
“And doesn’t get out one minute before that,” Lois had told her with a grim look. And then Lois had asked, “How long do your church services last?”
“It varies,” Debbie had mumbled, but Lois hadn’t looked convinced. Clearly Lois thought Englisha church services lasted a matter of minutes. Which wasn’t true, but at least they did sit on padded pews.
Debbie shifted in her seat between Lois and Verna. Ida sat a few girls down and gave her a smile when she glanced that way. Debbie smiled back but jumped when another song number was hollered out from the other side of the room. That was one thing Lois had failed to mention, but she probably hadn’t considered the loud announcement of each song number a thing worthy of report. It was amazing what one became used to—if one were raised with it.
There were also other things she would have to get used to, like the unmarried boys with their smooth chins who sat across the room in long rows. Behind them sat the married men with bearded faces, most of whom made only brief eye contact with her. She was obviously the new girl this morning, and both the married and unmarried males were curious. Most, though, lost interest after the first minutes—except Paul Wagler.
For someone with a reputation as a tease, Paul appeared serious enough. He’d gaze at her intently for long moments, obviously mesmerized with her every move. This she wasn’t used to. And it was something Lois hadn’t mentioned. How could she? Clearly no one had anticipated that Paul would be so smitten with her. Thankfully, Verna claimed Paul got over girls quickly, so surely she wouldn’t have to endure this for more than a few Sundays. As her new person allure wore off, everyone—Paul included—would leave her in peace.
They’d have to, Debbie told herself, because she did want to continue her Amish church attendance. If there had been any doubt in her mind, it had been dispensed with already. The singing had done that. It was magnificent. The sound rose and fell like she imagined the chants of medieval monks did. She’d never heard anything quite like this before. Here a whole group of people—male and female—sang in unison without accompaniment.
Debbie lowered her head and drank in each drawn-out note. The sound seemed to feed her soul, even though the words were in German, and she understood only a few of them. Once she learned the language better, which she would now make a concerted effort to accomplish, the effect would be even more profound. Debbie looked up to see Paul’s gaze fixed on her again. He glanced down at his songbook at once. Despite his present interest, Debbie knew his attraction to her would never grow into a deeper relationship even if he wanted it to. She’d been through this before. In his own way, Paul reminded her of Doug though, of course, Paul didn’t make phone calls and hadn’t begged for dates yet. Paul would get over her soon enough. What she wanted was a relationship that would reach her heart. Someone like Alvin Knepp, who was seated clear over on the other side of the room, might be able to do that. She’d looked forward to seeing him today. Soon after they had walked in this morning, Alvin had glanced at them…at Debbie…for a moment. A rush of color had run up his neck. He’d looked down at once. He was obviously shy, but he had at least recognized her, Amish dress and all.
The thought sent warm circles around her heart. How wrong of her to have designs on an Amish man she hardly knew, but she couldn’t help herself. Bishop Beiler’s opinion of her would doubtless falter if he found out. But perhaps it wouldn’t. The Amish were quite open about such things, and she did wish to join the faith, didn’t she?
Debbie glanced toward Alvin again but couldn’t catch his eye. Which was just as good. Being too forward wasn’t wise. She would have to remember that. And now that she noticed, the eligible girls around her kept their eyes on their songbooks most of the time. She promptly did the same, but moments later she caught movement in her side vision. Debbie looked up to see a line of men coming down the stairs. As
others also noticed, the singing stopped. The ministers were coming back from their morning meeting upstairs, according to what Lois had told her last night. And now the preaching would begin after the men were seated. Lois had said there would first be a short sermon, followed by a scripture reading, and then a much longer sermon.
“No one in the congregation knows which minister will preach before he stands up,” Lois had told her. “In fact I don’t think the ministers know until they have their little meeting upstairs. It keeps us from depending and leaning too heavily on one man.” Lois had pondered that for a moment before she asked, “I suppose your church doesn’t do that?” Lois hadn’t waited for an answer before she’d gone on to another subject.
The answer would have been a simple one, though, Debbie thought. With only one pastor, there wasn’t much question who would preach the Sunday-morning sermon unless a visiting pastor was brought in. And that was usually announced beforehand.
Debbie brought her attention back to the present. The first minister had risen to his feet. Everyone watched his bowed head as he waited for a few seconds before he said anything. Lois had said that unless there were visiting ministers, the responsibilities to preach fell between their two ministers—Ministers Kanagy and Graber—and her daett. From Lois’s description of the two ministers, this was Minister Graber. He was a well-rounded man of medium height with a high-pitched voice.
Moments later Minister Graber’s voice filled the room. Debbie refocused and listened to his lilting tones for over thirty minutes. She could learn to like him, she decided, once she understood German. He sounded serious enough, like there were worthy weighty matters beneath that high-pitched voice of his.
After Minister Graber sat down, Deacon Mast stood up and had the whole congregation stand while he read the scripture. Then a few of the men and a whole line of young boys filed outside.
“The bathroom break,” Lois had told her last night.
This had been more information than Debbie had wished for, but Lois hadn’t seemed to notice. Everyone talked about such things with great frankness, but Debbie hadn’t quite gotten used to it.
Lois had continued. “Daett tells the men at the members’ meetings to find a way to change their ways if they’re going out too often during the scripture reading. At least that’s what I’ve been told.”
Debbie had turned red, and Lois had laughed and then said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“Just tell me about the rest of the service,” Debbie had told her.
Debbie stole another glance across the room toward Alvin. He stood there with his head bowed. He obviously had no plans to leave. Debbie looked away at once. She wouldn’t think about such things anymore. Her neck had probably turned red already. Why did Lois have to bring up such subjects anyway? Now she’d think about which of the men left and which didn’t every time the scripture reading came.
Deacon Mast finished his reading and closed his Bible. Debbie sat down with everyone else. She caught Paul’s gaze on her again and snuck her hand up to rub her neck. As full of himself as Paul was, he would think she was blushing over his look. Sure enough, a pleased look crept across his face. Now she would never hear the end of him. Not if he thought she was smitten with him. Early impressions were difficult to overcome.
Bishop Beiler spoke next, and Debbie turned her attention toward him. He even had a better voice than he used at home for the scripture readings. He was obviously used to his role and comfortable with public speaking. In her world, Bishop Beiler would have been considered a grand preacher. He might even be in charge of a large church by this point in his career. In the Amish world, Bishop Beiler carried out his duties, and he performed them to the best of his ability with no thought of advancement.
This was a holy calling in every sense of the word, and Debbie liked it that way. It was much better that a man should preach from his heart with all worldly motives removed. As Debbie listened, peace settled on her heart. She could understand Bishop Beiler a little better than the other preachers since she’d been around him for so many years. But there were still many words that made no sense at all. She had much to learn, that was for sure. But she had planned on this, and now it was apparent she’d need to move learning German to a higher priority on her list. The day she could fully understand Bishop Beiler’s preaching would be among the happiest days of her life, she was sure. That and when she gained the attention of Alvin.
Debbie kept her eyes on Bishop Beiler until he brought his sermon to a close almost an hour later. After that there were “testimonies” or “words of agreement” given by several of the men. And the minister who hadn’t preached also said a few words. This Lois had all described.
Finally, Bishop Beiler rose to his feet and added his final remarks. Then he sat down and a song was sung. This seemed to take a long time, and then the final dismissal came, along with the rush of the younger children as they dashed outside. Debbie turned completely around for a look at the clock on the living room wall. Lois had been right. It was ten minutes after twelve.
“Are you stiff?” Verna whispered.
“Not really.” The truth was that once the preaching had started, she’d been pulled in and there hadn’t been time to notice much else.
“Come with me,” Verna told her. “I’ll have you help me with the tables. Would you like that?”
Debbie beamed. “Yes, of course! I don’t know much about cooking though.”
Verna laughed. “You don’t have to for this. The cooks have the food ready, and all we do is pass it out. Peanut butter bowls, red beets, cheese, coffee, and bread plates. How difficult is that?”
Verna made it sound so simple. There had to be more difficulties involved, but she was still game. What better way to learn to be Amish than to help out where she could?
“We’ll stay away from the unmarried boys’ table.” Verna leaned toward her to whisper, “I don’t think you want to face their teasing today.”
“I think that would be wise,” Debbie whispered back. She did want to see more of Alvin, but now was not the time. He seemed unsure of himself, and with Paul around those feelings wouldn’t be helped. She didn’t have much experience with insecure men, but she could figure that out. From her point of view Alvin had no reason for his insecurity. Bishop Beiler was his friend, and the community accepted him even with his father’s reported poor farming methods. She would have to see what she could do to encourage Alvin.
When they arrived in the kitchen, the younger girls had smaller bowls of peanut butter filled from a larger bowl. They set them on the counter as they finished. In one corner of the kitchen, dishes of red beets, cheese, and jam were also lined up.
“Fill your hands with bowls of food,” Verna said as she made her own selections.
Debbie followed her example. With their hands full, they moved back into the living room where the rows of benches had been turned into tables. This was a simple enough maneuver and ingenious at that. Wooden legs with slots along the top held two benches apiece, which raised them to table height. The women sat at one table and the men across the room at another. Through the bedroom doorway, Debbie noticed smaller versions of similar setups. This was simplicity itself, Debbie thought. She could serve these tables even with her meager cooking skills. Verna hadn’t exaggerated in the least.
Eighteen
A little before six o’clock that evening, Debbie stood in a long line of older girls as they moved out of Henry Yoder’s living room. The older boys had their own line a few feet away. Everyone chatted with each other as they waited their turn to file past the food laid out on the kitchen counter. Henry Yoder stood in the kitchen doorway. He directed the flow of young people with quick waves of his hand. He appeared pleased as he had all day. It occurred to Debbie that a church event hosted at your house was an enjoyable occasion in Amish life.
“Come on, come on!” Henry said. “The singing starts at seven thirty, and the women still have to clean the dishes.”
“Maybe you can help!” one of the boys wisecracked. “Give them dainty hands of yours the treatment they deserve.”
In the midst of the laughter, Henry lifted his hands to peer at them. A look of horror crossed his face. “I do declare, they’ve been well kept.”
Debbie laughed along with the rest. It was obvious Henry’s hands were callused, which was the real reason he had lifted them up so high—to display what he had.
“He’s a real show-off,” Verna whispered to Debbie as the two lines inched forward.
“That’s what I thought,” Debbie whispered back.
“He’s also the one who got Joe in trouble.” Verna’s face darkened.
Debbie leaned toward Verna. “Joe will get over it soon. Don’t worry.”
Verna face brightened. “Have you heard something?”
Debbie shook her head. “I just know you’re decent, Verna. Of course Joe will be back!”
“Oh…” Verna didn’t appear convinced.
Debbie wasn’t all that confident herself. But Verna was nice and decent, so why shouldn’t Joe come back? It seemed a safe guess. Plus Verna needed encouragement, even if the matter went south later. If Verna’s confidence was kept high, she’d be more attractive to the next boy who paid her attention.
“Howdy there!” A familiar voice interrupted Debbie’s thoughts. She hadn’t noticed that the girls line moved slower than the boys’. Paul must have crept up on her while she looked elsewhere.
“Good evening,” Debbie returned, giving Paul only the briefest of glances.
He grinned broadly. “What’s wrong? Have a rough afternoon?”
“No!” Debbie glared at him now, which produced chuckles from the boys around him. Obviously they were used to Paul’s teasing the marriageable girls and felt no shame when they enjoyed the humor along with him.
Holding a Tender Heart Page 13
