A Wedding Quilt for Ella (Little Valley 1)

by Jerry S. Eicher

  After a few moments, Ella’s thoughts turned to what would be expected of her after today. She would, of course, be expected to go on with her life. Tradition would be demanded of her. Amish girls didn’t stay single, locked away from society, and lost in their own worlds. She was almost twenty-one. Soon she knew the questions would come. In a thousand ways, she would know she must show she was ready to live again. There would be litde dropped hints and seemingly innocent questions raised, perhaps not immediately but soon enough.

  “I wonder if the time’s been long enough,” they would say. “Has Ella healed from her sorrow yet?” Even her mamm and Dora would join in. “When are you going to move on, Ella? You know you mustn’t waste your life. There’s a man somewhere who needs you, who can love you, and whose children you can bear.”

  She held both hands out in front of her. No man’s arms would ever be placed around her again. There would never be another to draw her into his embrace, to find her lips in love, or to feel the beat of her heart on his chest. In fact, she did not desire another man to love, and she would not allow herself to be drawn into another man’s embrace. I will stay true to Aden, to his memory, to his love, and to what we experienced together. Let people say what they want. She raised her face to the sky. Let the heavens dare to say nee.

  A soft whisper of a breeze flowed across her face, cooling her brow, soothing the throb of her headache. Ella took a deep breath and let it back out slowly. Her eyes were dry now, and her fingers were clenched in her hands. Yah, I will live my days alone in my parents’ house if necessary but not in another man’s. Ella Yoder, you will not be untrue to Aden’s memory, whatever the cost. My life will stretch out before me as long and lonely—

  “I saw you come out,” the voice of a man called out behind her, the sound soft on the morning air.

  Startled, she whirled around to find Daniel a few steps behind her, his eyes cast down.

  “You surprised me,” she said.

  “I didn’t mean to,” he said, raising his gaze to hers. They were sad eyes, as hers must be. “He was a good brother, Aden was. Yah, as good a brother as one might ever have.”

  She nodded.

  “I see the sun is putting on a right good display,” he said.

  She turned to look again at the colors in the sky. “It doesn’t seem right,” she said slowly. “This beauty…does it? Not today.”

  “Nee.” He shook his head. “None of it makes much sense.”

  She glanced at this face, his eyes studying the bright colors above them.

  “How can one understand such a loss as Aden?” he continued. “Aden was so alive, so full of life…only a few days ago. We worked on the job together the day before. It’s so hard to believe that it could really have happened.”

  “Oh,” she said, her interest rising, “you were with him?”

  “Yah,” Daniel said, nodding, “we worked hard all day. Aden, of course, always worked hard. With what we know now, that was the worst thing he could have done. It must have pumped the poisons all the way through his body, with his appendix ruptured like it was.”

  “Why didn’t Aden visit the clinic? He could have seen a doctor.”

  “He could have,” Daniel said, meeting her eyes. “He probably wanted to save money. I don’t know. Aden didn’t think it was serious enough, I guess, especially when the pain seemed to have gone away.”

  She nodded. Choosing to be frugal was a common trait in her people. Usually, though, the results weren’t this tragic.

  “By the evening I could tell he was tired,” Daniel went on, “but I just thought he’d worked a little too hard too quickly. Mamm checked his temperature when we got home. She said he ran a fever and that he should eat supper and rest, which he did. I guess we all figured he’d be better by morning. I heard nothing from him all night. You would think I would have heard something, as sick as he was. I was just across the hall.”

  Ella nodded again.

  “That’s the kind of man he was. It took a lot to slow him down,” Daniel said and then turned the topic to Ella. “I’m sorry for your sake, Ella. I know Aden loved you a whole lot. He told me so all the time. He thought you well worth the wait over all those years.”

  “I know. He told me that too.”

  “We all thought he’d just gotten the flu or something and that perhaps he needed antibiotics from the clinic at the worst. But we never thought of this.” He shook his head. “Now my brother’s gone, and I don’t quite know what will be happening with the construction business. Aden pretty much ran the crew. I guess I can go on…if I can get the courage up. Maybe someone else will help.”

  “It’s going away,” Ella said, motioning toward the sky where the colors had faded. “Rain would be much more fitting on the day of his funeral.”

  “I know,” he said with a long glance upward. “The moon woke me a while ago. I don’t know exactly when. I spent some time thinking about Aden. I think he would like this morning, though, with the sky so full of colors.”

  Ella considered this. Perhaps the weather didn’t suit her for the occasion, but Daniel was right. Aden would have loved the beauty of this morning.

  Behind them the house door opened, and Ida called, “Breakfast is ready.”

  Eleven

  Gathered around the table, they all bowed their heads in silent prayer and then ate breakfast with few words, the weight of the day’s sorrow heavy on the house.

  “You can go clean up and change your clothes in our bedroom,” Lydian whispered to Ella as they finished their meal.

  After she changed into her black dress, Ella glanced out the bed-room window to watch a few of the buggies pull in—mostly Aden’s relatives. The clock on the dresser read a little after seven-thirty. In an hour the service would begin and the pain would start anew.

  When Ella returned to the kitchen, the men had already started rearranging the benches in the living room. They soon had every corner full, quickly moving some into Lydian and Albert’s bedroom. The body was brought out by the pallbearers and placed on short benches close to the front door.

  Apparently an overflow crowd was expected because a wagon arrived bearing more benches. They were unloaded into the barn where, as customary, a separate service with separate preachers would be held.

  By eight-thirty the house was full. The only sounds in the house were the soft cries of babies and the squeak of a bench when someone moved. Two men in charge of the seating made sure the immediate family sat in the proper front seats. Ella was placed with Lydian and Albert on the first bench. Behind them the brothers and sisters sat, followed by cousins and then more distant relatives.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Ella saw her parents along with Dora and Clara ushered in and given seats in the house. Some of her aunts and uncles also made it inside, which was a nice gesture from the two ushers. They could have sent them out to the barn service, giving priority to the church people from Aden’s district.

  At a quarter of nine, one of the ushers gave a nod to Bishop Mast, who abruptly stood to his feet and began speaking. “We are gathered today to share in the sorrow of the Wengerd family. They have lost a son whom they loved, and their grief is great. We have been told by God to laugh with those who laugh and to mourn with those who mourn. Today we mourn with the Wengerd family.

  “No man can comprehend the mind of Da Hah or understand why a tragedy like this happens. Even the wisest of mankind cannot begin to understand. Man’s duty is to trust and to believe that Da Hah knows what is for the best. This hour may well be one of the darkest hours in the lives of the Wengerd family, and yet it could also be the one that bears the greatest fruit in eternal life.”

  Ella shifted on the hard bench, thinking that whatever the rewards were in eternity, she would still have preferred to have Aden here.

  The bishop had a kind face, and his eyes were moist as he turned his look to the family seated in the front row.

  “I have never lost a son,” he said. “All of my children
are still alive. Many might say that I can never understand what you feel, and that may be true. Yet in the Lord, we trust that we can share in your sorrow. Where we do not, Da Hah can fully understand. Da Hah lost His Son to death on a cruel cross, and He knows what those who have lost so much are feeling today.

  “On Calvary the Son of God, the eternal One who had come to save the world, died. He was slain by evil men. That day of death was a terrible day, more terrible than anything men have ever experienced. The earth shook when Jesus died. His death was so awful that the sun hid its face in shame and darkness.”

  So she had been right this morning. Death should be observed with awfulness and dark clouds. The rise of the sun had been an insult, after all. Does God, who cares so much about His own Son, not care about Albert and Lydian’s son? Ella glanced out the living room window at the open clear sky. What does God think of my bold question being tossed into His face? But what He thought really didn’t matter. The pain was simply too much to ignore.

  Why? Why doesn’t God care about Aden? Certainly He can hear my question. He is God, after all. Will He strike me down for thinking such a thing? Will He take me as He has taken Aden? If so, at least then I’ll be with Aden.

  Ella’s eyes were drawn to the wooden box between her and the bishop, who at that moment had stopped to pull a big blue handkerchief out of his trousers. He unfolded it with a shake and blew his nose with both hands.

  “Da Hah will have mercy on all of us,” he said and sat down.

  The next speaker was a relative of Aden’s, his older sister’s husband. He stood with his hands clasped for a long time, his head bowed, before he started speaking.

  “I know of many times,” he said, “when Aden did many good things for others. In my mind the actions reflect on the kind of man Aden was. I myself was a recipient of Aden’s kindness when he lent me money, a fairly large sum, a year ago when we had an emergency on our farm. Two of my best cows died in one week, and I needed funds to purchase replacements.

  “I paid back the money I borrowed from Aden last week, and he didn’t want interest on the money. He hadn’t even once complained about the amount of time I took to repay. I almost thought Aden might have forgotten about the money if I hadn’t brought the matter up.

  “Then there was the time when Aden was still a young boy. I had been seeing Aden’s sister, my wife now, and I forget exactly why, but Aden drove me home with his own horse and buggy. Once we set out, Aden’s horse became lame from a stone it had picked up. We both got out, and Aden removed the stone from the hoof, but the horse still limped.

  “Instead of riding the rest of the way back to his place where a new horse could be obtained, Aden insisted we walk the next two miles home. Aden led the horse by the bridle all the way. I told Aden this wasn’t necessary and that the buggy wouldn’t pull much harder with the two of us in it. But nothing could persuade Aden. The horse had to be favored. I know from experience that few young boys would have taken such kind actions.”

  He paused, produced his large handkerchief, and wiped his eyes before retaking his seat and allowing silence to settle over the room.

  Ella had never heard either of these stories and had listened carefully, the desire to know more about Aden strong in her heart.

  Preacher Stutzman slowly got to his feet. He let his eyes sweep the room for the longest time, his hands loosely at his side. Finally, he took a deep breath and then launched out with a great roar in his voice.

  “Gready beloved, I greet you in the name of the dear Lord, Jesus Christ. I fear that I do not have good tidings for you this morning but rather warnings from Da Hah. We must fear today…and fear it greatly. We must fear for our own souls and for our bodies. Dearly beloved, we must take great warning by this, the death of our brother. Much has been said about the good life he has lived, and this is all the truth as I can bear witness myself. Yah, it is so. Yet did not the Lord come for him in a sudden and dreadful way? We must then stand greatly warned. If this can happen to a good man, to one we can have good hope of a better life in eternity, can it not happen to any of us?

  “Yah, it can.” Stutzman answered his own question, his hands now held high, his pacing begun in front of the casket. “We must not be doubtful about this. This good man’s death is a warning from Da Hah Himself. This is a wakeup call to all of us here that we repent of our sins and turn to Da Hah and to the church for help. There are those amongst us—perhaps some of our young people—who are playing with the temptations of the world. There are those who are living in secret lives of disobedience. There are those who are in transgression of the laws of Da Hah and of the voice of the church. To them this is, and let it forever be, a great and terrible warning of what is to come. Death can arrive in an instant. It could take us by the hand and usher us into eternity before we know what is happening. I ask you young people, have you been preparing yourselves? How about you older people, married and unmarried, have you been preparing?

  “The Good Book says to seek your God while there is yet time. Seek your Creator in your youth because you know not when the evil day comes—as it has come for our brother. The day of calamity comes as it has come today.”

  Ella didn’t even look at his face. What in the world is he going to say about my earlier questions and how I threw angry words at God? She held her hands tightly together. Is he going to see me shaking? Does he already know what my thoughts are? Only a few feet away, he strode past, his broad pants loose around his waist, his suspenders doubled up on the back on one button, his black dress shoes dull and unpolished. Is God like him? Ella wondered.

  “The Word of God says,” Preacher Stutzman said with his voice filling the room, “that the day of the Lord will come as a day of wrath, as a day of trouble and distress, as a day of waste and a day of desolation, as a day of darkness and gloominess, as a day of clouds and of much thick darkness.”

  His voice boomed out the German words, “Zum Tag...Today if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts.”

  For the next hour, Preacher Stutzman paced and lectured those assembled. Ella knew she heard Bishop Mast clear his throat once quite loudly. Perhaps he wanted to add to the tirade?

  Then the sermon stopped as quickly as it began, and the long line of mourners began to file past the casket. Those from the service in the barn came in first, and then those in the house got to their feet. The family came last, and they stood together and walked forward. Ella stood with Albert and Lydian at the head of the wooden box. She forced herself to look, seeing him for one last time. But the man in the box no longer looked like Aden at all. Last night in the bedroom, with the kerosene lamp light on his face, she could imagine him as he used to be. Now he was stark, cold, and simply gone. She pulled her eyes away.

  When Albert and Lydian moved on, she followed them. The crowd parted before them. Ella saw several people glance at her. Likely they wondered why she had no tears. They had been cried last night. She had said her goodbye then. Let them think what they wanted to. They had not lost their beloved.

  They made their way to the yard, and then Ella rode to the cemetery with her own parents and three younger sisters. Somewhere behind them, Eli and Monroe had Clara and Dora with them. The long procession of buggies moved slowly toward the cemetery. At the state road, time was taken up in the crossing. Each buggy waited in turn until traffic was clear to cross over.

  “Looks like quite a storm’s building over the mountains,” her daett said from the front seat.

  Ella leaned out of the buggy door to see. It did look like a storm but why now? They almost had him buried. Why not earlier?

  “It’s just come up,” her daett said. “I hope it gives us time for the burial before the rain starts.”

  When her dad parked, Ella got out of the buggy, helped her sisters down, and then took another look toward the western mountains. The storm did look ominous. Stiff winds off the lake drove the great stacks of black clouds.

  Ella walked across the little graveyard, mo
ving forward to stand beside Albert and Lydian by the graveside. The casket was set on small benches, and, again, the lines formed and viewed the body. Bishop Mast read a prayer, a great swelling of German words written to express the agony of the human heart that had suffered unspeakable grief yet still worships his God. Then slowly they lowered the coffin into the ground.

  As Ella watched, they started throwing in the dirt. Gentle shovelfuls of dirt thudded against the wooden casket. The sound gradually became the soft sound of dirt thrown upon dirt. The mound grew slowly higher.

  Ella glanced over her shoulder at the storm clouds, which were ready to break. The winds came first, great blasts that tore green leaves from the trees and drove them across the graveyard. Then the rain came, lashing them with an intense fury. Yet no one ran for shelter. They waited until the shovels ceased their work, little rivulets of water forming and running off of the now completed mound.

  At last the mourners began slowly walking back to their buggies. Ella, however, stayed by the graveside, her head lifted toward heaven. The cold rain streaked down her face. So this is what it feels like when God cares.

  Long moments later, Mamm pulled at her arm and whispered, “It’s time to go.”

  Twelve

  Daett pulled to a stop at the main highway and glanced each way before he crossed.

  “Hard to see anything,” he muttered. “S’pose the Englisha drive slower in this weather. You just never know, though.”

  “I’m glad it’s raining,” Ella said from the backseat. She so wanted to be on her way home, but instead they must go back one more time to the Wengerd’s place.

  “Why would you like the rain?” Ruth, who sat beside her older sister, asked. “I’m all wet from it.”

  “Because I think Da Hah must be sad,” Ella said, “and I’m glad He’s sad with us.”