The Amish Seasons Collection: Contains An Amish Spring, An Amish Summer, An Amish Autumn, and An Amish Winter

by Sarah Price

  Yet, even God had a few surprises left for His loyal followers.

  What Esther thought was the change of life was accompanied with an expanding waistline.

  “Danke, Drusilla,” her mother said as she sat down on a chair near the table. “I’m so drained these days. Sure will be nice when Hannah’s done with school, ja?” She sighed and leaned her head against her hand, shutting her eyes for just a moment. “Those two boys…”

  Drusilla smiled, not needing to hear her mother finish the sentence. She knew that she was referring to Henry and Elam, the two mischief makers in the house. When they came home from school, they would immediately head toward the cow paddock to jump through the stream or try to catch frogs in the small pond. On more than one occasion, they would bring their findings into the house: frogs, salamanders, even snakes. Hannah would scream and run away, leaving poor little Elsie alone and usually in a fit of tears.

  On more than one occasion, both boys had a date with their father behind the woodshed on account of their rambunctious behavior. Still, that didn’t deter them from finding more pranks and capers to keep Hannah and Elsie on their toes.

  “Daniel grew out of it,” Drusilla reminded her. “Henry and Elam will, too.”

  Her mother didn’t answer, just merely raised her eyebrows, clearly not convinced that Drusilla’s prediction would come to fruition.

  While her mother rested, Drusilla carried the basket of clothing upstairs and quickly sorted it. The upstairs was small, only four bedrooms. Drusilla and Daniel each had their own rooms, small ones that barely had enough space for a small mattress and a nightstand. The other two bedrooms were shared by the two younger boys and the two younger girls. The new baby would sleep in their parents’ room which, like most Amish homes, was downstairs, on the first floor. Sorting through the clothes was easy enough since everything was folded and already stacked in piles according to which room (and person) it belonged. Her mother was organized like that.

  By the time she walked back down the staircase, the now-empty laundry basket on her hip, her father and Daniel had already finished the feeding and were in the kitchen, Daniel at the sink washing his hands and Amos already seated at the head of the table.

  “A barn raising? At the Lapps?” Her mother sighed. “I sure do thank you for begging my absence, but I’ll be sure to send along some canned goods and fresh baked bread.” She turned to look at Drusilla, standing on the bottom step. “Mayhaps you should go along, ja? I reckon it wouldn’t hurt to see if Naomi or Miriam might want to go, too.” The way she said it, Drusilla knew what her mother was thinking: If there wasn’t some female representative from the family at the barn raising, tongues might wag and that was always something to be avoided.

  “May I ride over to Naomi and Miriam’s after dinner, then? To ask them?” Drusilla asked eagerly. During the springtime, at least so far, she hadn’t much opportunity to see her cousins too often. Between early spring plowing and planting in the fields and garden followed by the haying and baling, springtime was one of the busiest times of the year on an Amish farm.

  This time, it was Amos who spoke up. “Nee, Drusilla. We need to finish that baling today. But I reckon you can head over there later. Just be home before suppertime,” he added.

  With the food set upon the table, Esther finally assumed her seat. For a long minute, the four of them bowed their heads to say a silent prayer over the food, thanking God for all of His love and expressing their gratitude for the many blessings that He continually bestowed upon them. Almost at the same time, they all looked up and, after a quick glance to make certain everyone else was ready, they began to serve themselves and pass the plates around the table.

  At the Riehl farm, mornings began at four o’clock. Cows needed to be milked twice a day and, after the milking, the equipment needed to be sterilized, a job that usually fell upon Drusilla, while Daniel and their father let the cows out in the paddock and began cleaning the alley between the stanchion stalls. During milking, the cows all stood in a row, their necks immobilized between two iron bars. With hay in the manger before them, the cows didn’t mind standing there, but with over thirty cows, by the time milking was done, the alley between the two areas would be filthy. With a long chain, Daniel would pull the large alley scraper, collecting all of the manure into the collection pit outside of the barn. While it didn’t always smell the best, especially on hot and humid days, the manure would be used to fertilize the fields throughout seasons.

  “Brother Eli and his family are visiting this Sunday,” Amos said between mouthfuls of food. He pointed at Drusilla and Daniel with his fork. “One of you should go to market for your maem. She’ll be needing some fresh vegetables, ja?”

  “And some dry goods, too,” she added.

  Drusilla glanced at her brother and they exchanged a silent dialogue through their expressions. It was almost as if she could read his mind. “I’ll go, Daed,” she volunteered. “I know there’s a farm equipment auction that you wanted to attend on Friday, ja? I’m sure Daniel would prefer to accompany you rather than go shopping.”

  Amos turned his head and stared at his son. “That so, Daniel? You prefer the auction to shopping?” His tone of voice made the question light and teasing. “Vell then, I reckon I could use the company!”

  Her brother exhaled, a look of relief washing over his face. When his father wasn’t looking, he mouthed a quick “danke” to Drusilla.

  She recognized the importance of Daniel being able to join their daed at the auction. Other young men would be there and it gave him an opportunity to socialize. She also knew it was important for Daniel to be exposed to Amish gatherings like an auction.

  Only two months ago, Daniel had turned sixteen, the age when Amish youths began their rumschpringe, a time in their life when they could explore the outside world before deciding if they wanted to become baptized members of the church. Many young men and some women took their rumschpringe a bit too far, exploring the outside world by traveling, drinking, and even dating Englischers. More than one young woman returned home with a round belly and heartsick remorse, although Drusilla never personally knew anyone like that. She often wondered if the stories were circulated in hushed tones in order to scare the sassier girls.

  The more the youths kept close to their own communities, the more likely they would not stray from the faith or become too adventuresome during their rumschpringe.

  As for Drusilla, she had taken the kneeling vow. She didn’t need to explore the world. All that she needed was right here, on her family’s farm. The extent of her rumschpringe had consisted of attending youth gatherings with Naomi and Miriam and helping with the Mennonite Central Committee who always conducted fund raisers throughout the year. She had several friends in the Mennonite church and found that, with few exceptions, they were truly no different from the Amish. Of course, some of the Mennonites drove cars or used electricity. And the women wore patterned dresses and flat prayer kapps. But Drusilla found that level of worldliness to be quite forgivable.

  By the time the baling was finished for the day, the rest of the children were home from school. The noise level in the house had considerably increased. “Might I go to Naomi and Miriam’s now, Maem?” she asked her mother, hoping to escape the chaos that had descended upon the Riehls’ house with the return of her younger siblings

  “Can’t I go, too?” Hannah had asked.

  That was the way it usually went. Whatever Drusilla did, her younger sister wanted to do it with her. Hannah’s strong personality differed from the other daughters in the family. Her enthusiasm for socializing often meant that she found herself disappointed when she wasn’t allowed to do everything that her older sister did. This left Hannah sullen and sulky over the perceived injustice which usually meant staying home, tending to chores, or watching her younger siblings.

  Esther, however, was all too familiar with Hannah’s tendency of being at odds with her decisions. Long ago, she had learned to take a deep breath and
remain composed. Drusilla admired her mother’s ability to defuse Hannah, the alternative being to inform Amos about the young girl’s defiance. That would come to no good end for anyone, Drusilla thought.

  “When you’re eighteen, Hannah,” Esther said, her words even and devoid of any sign of irritation, “you’ll have your time to visit others, ja? But this isn’t your time. Not when there are chores to do.” She glanced over her shoulder at Hannah and met her daughter’s angry gaze. “Which, I reckon, you best get started on before too much longer.” This time, there was an undercurrent of a warning in Esther’s voice, enough so that Hannah pressed her lips together, as if forcing herself to remain silent, and stomped outside to attend her chores.

  Once the door banged shut behind her sister, Drusilla turned toward her mother and apologized. “I’m sorry, Maem,” she said softly. “Don’t mean to cause any troubles with Hannah.”

  Esther gave a soft laugh and shook her head. “Nee, Dochder. We all know that our dear Hannah was born with a penchant for dissension.”

  It was true. Drusilla could well remember how, as a newborn, Hannah’s colic kept the family up late into the nights. She seemed to be a cranky infant that grew into a crankier toddler with a habit of getting into mischief. Whether it was opening cabinets to remove the pans or wandering outside when she shouldn’t have, Hannah required someone to watch her every waking moment.

  Now as Hanna rested on the top rung of the fence, it seemed as if she straddled the unknown world bordering childhood and womanhood. It was uncharted territory she was impatient to explore. Being left behind did not suit her personality.

  After leaving the house and crossing the yard to fetch her scooter, Drusilla had felt the longing gaze of Hannah who watched from atop the fence. After a long day of school, Hannah’s afternoon would consist of weeding the garden and helping her mother make dinner while little Elsie did her best to contribute. But, at eight years of age, her attention span was short. Easily distracted, Elsie might weed for a few minutes before noticing a worm or small bug and poking at them with a stick.

  “Not fair,” Hannah had said as Drusilla passed by the garden. The scowl on her face had almost made Drusilla smile, but she knew that she dare not do so. Instead, she had maintained a serious look as Hannah had continued complaining. “I never get to do anything fun!”

  “That’s not true, Hannah,” Drusilla had replied, her voice soft so that she didn’t spark Hannah’s temper. “And your time is coming. Why, you’ll be turning fourteen over the summer and, next year, you’ll begin your internship. You should be excited! No more school and you’ll be helping out on the farm with Daed, Daniel, and me!”

  Hannah had shrugged her shoulders as she shoved the hoe into the ground. Now that spring was here, the garden plot needed to be tilled so that any lingering weeds were removed and the soil freshly overturned. It was a job that Drusilla didn’t mind doing and she had almost offered to complete the chore upon her return, but she knew that her mother would disapprove. Hannah needed to learn to help the family as needed, not when she wanted.

  “And remember, Hannah,” Drusilla had said with a smile of understanding, “it wasn't so long ago that I had to do the same thing while you stayed inside coloring pages from a book or playing with dough when Maem was baking bread.”

  Her sister had rolled her eyes.

  “I’ll be back soon,” Drusilla had added. “I’ll help you with the rest of the hoeing, ja?”

  It was a small consolation, but Hannah had nodded in appreciation of the offer and Drusilla gave her one last smile before she began pushing the scooter down the driveway and toward the main road.

  During the spring, the roads weren’t too busy with traffic. As the weather improved, however, that would change. Tourists visited the area in increasing numbers until, by summer time, Drusilla dreaded leaving the farm on a scooter after ten o’clock in the morning. By that time, the tourists were up, fed, and ready to explore the backroads, snapping photos of any Amish person that they encountered. If that wasn’t bad enough, some of the less congenial tourists would pass by her on the scooter, so close that she often felt a breeze on the back of her legs from the speed of the car.

  But for now, a perfect spring day, she enjoyed the short journey to her cousin’s farm. The air kept her skin cool and, since she hadn’t used the scooter so much over the winter, her leg muscles began to ache, especially after having worked all morning in the fields. She loved the farm work and knew that the soreness indicated that she had worked hard, something else that pleased her greatly.

  The driveway to her uncle’s farm wasn’t paved and wove through two large fields of growing corn. The stalks would be almost two feet high by early July and harvested in late August. But, for now, they were small plants, just beginning to cover the barren fields with a tint of green. She couldn’t wait until summertime when the corn crops would be tall and, when a breeze would blow through the fields, their green leaves would whisper as they rippled like the surface of a pond.

  “Why hullo there, Drusilla!” Her aunt greeted her with a cheerful smile and a wave. She stood on the grass by the corner of her house, wheeling in the clothes line. With her brown dress and dirty black apron covering her waist, she looked as if she, too, had a long workday. But Barbara, Naomi and Miriam’s mother, was one of the most cheerful people that Drusilla had ever met.

  Waving back, Drusilla stepped off the scooter and set it against the side of the house. “The girls here? Wanted to ask them if they’d like to go to a barn raising on Monterey on Thursday. If it’s all right with you, of course.”

  Her aunt dropped her hands and stared at Drusilla with her mouth open. “A barn raising?” The timbre of her voice exposed her surprise. “Why, I hadn’t heard of a Monterey barn raising! Whose haus, Dru?”

  “A…Jonathan Lapp?” Truth be told, she wasn’t certain if that was the proper name. She hadn’t been listening at first when her father was talking with his cousin earlier that morning.

  “Oh my!” She shook her head and clicked her tongue, a slight gasp escaping her lips. “Such a shame. I’m sure something awful must have happened. I do wonder that we hadn’t heard about it before now, though.”

  “Maem’s not going,” Drusilla said. “But she said me and the girls might go instead.”

  “Oh ja, sure sure,” her aunt replied, nodding her head. “I’m sure Naomi and Miriam will want to go along.” She glanced over her shoulder toward the side of the house. A blooming dogwood tree blocked the view, Drusilla knew that the family garden was just behind it. “Go on and ask them.”

  The grass felt soft on her bare feet as she walked around the side of the house. A few of the dogwood tree’s petals littered the ground, creating a soft pink pattern on that section of the lawn. As soon as she ducked under the lowest limb, she saw the corner of the garden and, sure enough, her two cousins were busy with the hoe, gently loosening the soil where weeds had started to grow. Like Drusilla, both were barefoot and wearing handkerchiefs over their heads, instead of the customary white heart shaped prayer kapp that was so typical the Amish women in Lancaster.

  Naomi spotted her first and stood up, taking a second to stretch her back after having bent over for so long. She leaned against the hoe and smiled at Drusilla. “Come to help us, then?”

  The two sisters, twins born just an hour apart, were only five months older than Drusilla. With the exception of the fact that Naomi and Miriam lived on a different farm from Drusilla, the three of them did most everything together. During their school years, they walked together, ate lunch under the same tree, and helped each other with studying. Before Elam and Elsie were born, Naomi and Miriam often spent days at a time at Drusilla’s house. Esther hadn’t minded since they helped with entertaining the young children or kept to themselves, exploring the outside when the weather was nice.

  Now that they were women, their days of sleepovers and running through fields were over, left to the younger children.

  “Ha,
I think Sister Hannah would be quite upset if I did!” Drusilla laughed. “She was looking a bit forlorn when I left to come here.”

  Miriam joined them and greeted Drusilla with a big smile. While the two looked alike, they were not identical twins. Unlike Drusilla’s family where brown hair and brown eyes were predominant traits, with the exception of Drusilla with her sky blue eyes so large and bright, all of her cousins had light hair and hazel eyes. Between Miriam and Naomi, the main differences were height and weight. Miriam’s face was more cherubic and her stature more stout. Naomi, however, stood almost six inches taller than her twin and her figure resembled Drusilla’s: thin and delicate.

  “Aw that Hannah,” Miriam said, a light tone in her voice. “If only our maem hadn’t stopped having bopplis after us. She’d have a cousin her own age too, ja?”

  It was a thought that always lingered in Drusilla’s mind. She tried to include her sister in as many activities as she could, inviting her to ride to market or helping her with the garden. Sometimes she even took her for a drive to the main road so that they could stop for ice cream. She knew that Hannah was a lonely child, bookended by boys and with only two little girls in the g’may that were about her age. But Drusilla knew that she couldn’t include the thirteen year old in every activity that she did.

  “Thursday’s a barn raising,” she finally said. “Maem said I could go and suggested that you both might want to join me.”She gestured toward the house. “Your maem said you could.”

  Always the more energetic of the two, Naomi’s expression lit up and she nodded her head emphatically. “Oh how much fun. Of course we’d like to go!” She looked at her sister. “Right Miriam?”