by Kelly Long
Sarah’s Garden © 2010 by Kelly Long
Lilly’s Wedding Quilt © 2011 by Kelly Long
Threads of Grace © 2013 by Kelly Long
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Thomas Nelson. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of HarperCollins Christian Publishing, Inc.
Thomas Nelson titles may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, fund-raising, or sales promotional use. For information, please e-mail [email protected].
Scripture quotations are taken from New American Standard Bible®. Copyright © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission. (www.Lockman.org) And from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com. The “NIV” and “New International Version” are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.®
Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.
ISBN: 9780718082857
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
CIP data available upon request.
17 18 19 20 21 RRD 5 4 3 2 1
AUTHOR’S NOTE
In researching this novel, I discovered the fact that Amish communities differ from one to another from both simple to larger-life activities. For example, there are dialectal differences in the spelling of such words as “dawdi” house, which may also be spelled “doddy” or daudi” depending on the region in question. In addition, praying aloud at the dinner table may also, at times, be a voiced prayer when there is a particular praise offered.
The Amish man who was my main source of information, the truly forthright and dry-humored Dan Miller, told me that it would be difficult to find two Amish communities exactly alike. While all may share basic beliefs in the Lord, family, and work ethics, diversity still exists.
It is a lesson to me as an Englischer, that though the Amish may appear to live “the simple life,” their differences provide a rich culture for both fact and fiction, and it is my honor to represent some small threads of their ways of life.
—Kelly Long
CONTENTS
AUTHOR’S NOTE
SARAH’S GARDEN
GLOSSARY OF PENNSYLVANIA DUTCH WORDS AND PHRASES
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
LILLY’S WEDDING QUILT
GLOSSARY OF PENNSYLVANIA DUTCH WORDS AND PHRASES
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
THREADS OF GRACE
GLOSSARY OF PENNSYLVANIA DUTCH WORDS AND PHRASES
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
For Brenda. who would not let me quit.
GLOSSARY OF PENNSYLVANIA DUTCH WORDS AND PHRASES
ach: oh
aldi: girlfriend
Alli mudder muss sariye fer ihre famiyle: Every mother has to take care of her family.
Ausbund: hymnal
Bass uff, as du net fallscht!: Take care you don’t fall!
boppli: baby
bruder: brother
danki: thanks
Der Herr: the Lord
Der Herr sie gedankt: Thank the Lord
doddy: guest house next to the main house
Dummel dich net: Take your time; don’t hurry.
Englisch: non-Amish people and their ways
Es fenschder muss mer nass mache fer es sauwer mache: One has to wet the window in order to clean it.
frau: wife, Mrs.
geh: go
gern gschehne: you’re welcome
grossmudder: grandmother
guder mariye: good morning
gut: good
Hallich gebottsdaag: Happy Birthday
Ich kam sell neh geh!: I cannot tolerate that!
jah: yes
ju
ddekaershe: husk cherries
kapp: prayer cap
kinner: children
kumme: come
Lob: traditional second hymn
Mamm: mom
narrish: crazy
nee: no
Ordnung: unspoken rules that govern the community
rumspringa: running-around time
schweschder: sister
sei so gut: please
vrolijk: frolic
Wann er schnarit, halt er much waker: When he snores, he keeps me awake.
Was in der welt?: What in all the world?
Wie geht’s?: How are you?
windel: diaper
wunderbaar: wonderful
PROLOGUE
THE KING FARM
PINE CREEK, PENNSYLVANIA
Letty King chopped zucchini on a wooden board and scraped the skins to one side to be fried as a side dish for dinner. She grated the dense centers into neat piles and glanced out the small kitchen window. Her husband, Ephraim, was spending a rare few minutes with their toddler, Sarah, staking up tomatoes in the kitchen garden. When Letty finished her task, she covered the vegetables with a damp tea towel, praised the carrots her five-year-old daughter, Chelsea, was busy scraping, and ventured outside for a stray moment of pleasure in her husband’s company.
Ephraim’s brown eyes greeted her with warmth, and then he glanced down to where two-year-old Sarah touched the tomato vine.
“Ach, Letty, kumme and see; our Sarah loves the plants like I’ve told you.”
Letty smiled ruefully and moved to pat her younger daughter’s crop of fine, blonde curls. “Ephraim, you haven’t shown any of the other kinner this kind of notice. You will turn Sarah’s head for sure.”
Ephraim laughed aloud. “Nee, Letty. It is not me; Der Herr has given her a gift. The Lord, Letty. Even now, she knows how to touch a plant, to nourish it.”
“Perhaps, but Ephraim, is it seemly to draw attention to the child?”
“It is not Sarah I draw attention to, Letty. It is Der Herr whom I honor through the child. It is the Lord working through her whom I praise.”
Letty sighed. “That’s true, but now I must change her windel before the others return from school.” She scooped up the baby and patted her damp cloth diaper as the toddler’s lip puckered and she stretched over her mother’s shoulder for the vine.
Ephraim made a soothing sound in his throat as Letty carried the baby away.
When Letty reached the house, she sneaked a brief glance back to find her husband still studying the plants. She sighed to herself and went inside, closing the blue door firmly.
CHAPTER 1
THE KING FARM
PINE CREEK, PENNSYLVANIA
Eighteen years later
Sarah King passed the mounded dish of mashed potatoes to her older sister, Chelsea, then caught up the bowls of boiled turnips and fried apples to bring to the table. It was nice to have Chelsea visiting. It was her first long visit home since her wedding to John Kemp five months earlier, and having her there certainly helped when it came to feeding her three brothers. Twenty-year-old Sarah felt that being the youngest of five was not always easy, especially when spring planting came around and the boys were ravenous from working the fields from sunup until dark.
Sarah caught her mother’s approving eye at the food-laden table and slipped into her own place on the long bench at her father’s left hand. She folded her hands into the lap of her apron and bowed her head. The general rumble of male voices ceased as her father began to pray.
Der Herr sie gedankt for this food and for those who have “labored over it, from the fields to the table. Amen.”
There was a chorus of amens, and the boys dove for the food.
“Ach, I nearly forgot . . .” Father held up his hand, and the boys froze in their scoops with the ladles and spoons. They dropped them with a low groan when Father bowed his head once more.
“And Der Herr sie gedankt for Chelsea and for the boppli she carries for John Kemp.”
Sarah smiled. A baby! She should have known, since Chelsea had been closeted with Mamm and Father for a hurried conference in the pantry just before serving time. Her brothers patted John on the back and made good-natured jokes while Chelsea glowed and met Sarah’s eyes. Sarah knew that many in her Old Order Amish community did not speak of pregnancies openly, but Father and Mamm encouraged conversation of all sorts in the privacy of their home in an effort to keep the family together in spirit and prayer.
Sarah was so excited at the prospect of being an aunt that she forgot to eat. Father jokingly nudged her arm and set the whole table laughing at her untouched plate. Sarah joined in the laughter, though she would not have laughed as outrightly had she been anywhere but home with her family. She gazed down the table to the tanned faces of her older brothers and the always-moving gentle hands of Mamm and thought how blessed she was.
“And,” Father pronounced, startling her, “I think that Sarah might make the baby quilt for my first grandchild. What do you say, Sarah?”
Sarah ducked her head at her father’s words. She knew he only made an innocent suggestion; it was her own insecurity about extending her creativity beyond her garden that shook her. She had only attempted one quilt, when she was thirteen, and her Grossmudder King had so criticized her handiwork that she’d never picked up a needle again. But the table was waiting for a reply, and she nodded.
“Jah, I will try.”
Chelsea rose and came around the table to kiss and hug her sister. “Wunderbaar,” she exclaimed and returned laughing to her seat.
Sarah smiled and adjusted her hair covering, tucking back the stray blonde strands that tended to escape at her temples.
Her brother Luke stopped eating and opened his eyes wide in a comedic manner, which grabbed everyone’s attention.
“Was in der welt, Luke?” Mamm asked in mock exasperation.
“I just thought of something, Mamm!” Luke exclaimed. “Now that Chelsea is married and working on the Kemp farm, she won’t be able to run the roadside stand. And it’s supposed to open again next week! Who will take care of the stand this year?”
The table rumbled in perplexity, and Sarah bit her lip in thought. The King family roadside stand was no mere plank of wood on sawhorses. Indeed, Father and the boys had built a full-length, open-fronted shed, well shingled against the weather and able to house many tables of produce, baked goods, and canned items in the spring and summer as well as baskets of walnuts, beechnuts, scented pine cones, and bundles of firewood in the autumn. It was a source of income for the family and was the most successful of all the roadside stands in the local Amish and English communities. To spare a boy from the fields would be unthinkable, and Chelsea was busy on the Kemp farm. Mamm had all of the housework . . .
“Your mother and I have thought of this, eh, Mama?”
Mamm cleared her throat and folded her cloth napkin before replying. “Jah,” she announced. “Sarah will take over the running of the stand when it opens again next week.”
The sudden silence around the crowded table did nothing to ease Sarah’s swimming head as she stared at her mother in confusion. Father took up the conversation and reached to pat Sarah’s cold hand in reassurance. “Jah, Sarah will do it.”
Luke laughed aloud—a brief chortle cut short by a glare from his mother—and then looked apologetically at his younger sister.
“Forgive me, please, Sarah. It’s just that you’re always with your plants . . . I just thought . . .” His words trailed off and Sarah felt a quick wash of pity at his floundering.
“It doesn’t matter, Luke. It’s strange for me to think of it also,” Sarah admitted.
Chelsea spoke up. “Sarah can do it,” she proclaimed stoutly, so that her father nodded in agreement and a murmur of ascent went around the table.
“Yes, Sarah, you can.” Father went on, “It is your nature to hide among the garden plants you love, jah? But there are others to minister to, a world to understand s
o you can be sure that you do not conform to its ways and people. Sarah, there are people to meet and to serve.”
Sarah nodded, but her heart was thumping and she felt sick to her stomach.
“Jah, Sarah, perhaps you’ll meet your husband at the stand this year, unless you marry your old friend Jacob Wyse,” Luke suggested, then ducked when John Kemp gave him a cuff on the shoulder.
“What?” Luke asked. “She might.”
Chelsea smiled down the table at her brother. “Maybe it’s you, Luke King, who should visit the stand . . . You might find a wife!”
Luke flushed as his brothers laughed. It was a common joke among the family that none of the boys had yet to marry, with James, the eldest, being nearly twenty-eight. The simple truth was that there was barely time for courting when they all worked a farm as large as the one the Lord had provided for the King family.
Despite the laughter around her and her brother’s sincere apology, Sarah had no time to worry about a husband when faced with the prospect of dealing with the responsibilities of the stand and all the strangers who would stop as customers. It was one thing when the King family hosted church meeting and she could stay in the background, or at picnics or berry picking when she busied herself with the younger children. But to deal with a parade of strangers on her own . . . and Englisch strangers at that. She swallowed hard at the staggering thought and questioned her fears. She couldn’t recall any reason for her reticence; she’d only ever known kindness from those in her community. Yet she was afraid.
She realized that conversation had resumed around the table and the world was spinning for the others of her family. Her brother Samuel was speaking.
“There’s been more work done today at the Fisher farm, Father. I noticed when I was plowing the south end. Soon we’ll have new neighbors.”
“Yes, we will, and they will be Englisch neighbors.”
There was brief silence around the table, though Sarah couldn’t quite pick up the threads of conversation from her own miserable musings.
“It’s a strange thing to think of Englischers working an Amish farm,” Luke commented and Father raised an admonishing hand.
“It was an Amish farm, but all of the earth belongs to Der Herr. And I must say that the Englisch may care for the place much better than the Fishers ever did. As our neighbors, we must extend goodwill and, further, good expectations. You all know this.”
Luke nodded in agreement as Father continued.
“It is good to remind ourselves on occasion—kindness, fairness, goodwill. All as Der Herr would do Himself and as the Ordnung instructs.”