Where Healing Blooms

by Vannetta Chapman

  “Can’t someone step in? Social services or—”

  Simon held up his hand, palm out. “I can’t share all of the specifics. I can tell you that the family has been thoroughly investigated, and nothing against the law is going on in the home.”

  “So the other children will stay.”

  “Ya, for now they will.” Simon stood. “Should I go down the hall and see Mary Ann?”

  “She’s resting. Hopefully she’s asleep.”

  “Then tell her I will be praying for her healing, and I’d be happy to stop back in a few days to check on her.”

  “Danki.”

  Emma walked him to his buggy. Glancing toward the barn, she saw Joseph with one of Ben’s horses. He was brushing the gelding with solid, gentle strokes. The horse looked completely satisfied, if a horse could wear such an expression.

  “There is one more thing.” Simon had already climbed up into his buggy. His eyes had become even more serious than before. “Nancy Schlabach . . .”

  Emma might have cringed at her name. Surely nothing had happened to the young woman or her boys.

  “We’re going to have to move her out of their home until Owen can be treated for his condition. He won’t go to any of the facilities we’ve suggested. Or at least he won’t at this point, but it’s no longer safe for her or the boys to be there. Another incident and the police will be involved.”

  “What can I do to help?” The words popped out of her mouth before she’d fully considered them. She already had a crippled mother and a runaway boy under her care.

  “I’ve been looking for a place for them to stay—a safe place within our community.” He motioned out the front of his buggy, toward their garden and Danny’s pond. “This would be a gut place, if you’re willing to have them.”

  Emma swallowed the excuses that threatened to rise to her lips. “Of course.”

  It would be selfish to talk of any difficulties she might have when that poor woman and her children were in danger.

  “The Lord bless you, Emma. You know it is possible that Gotte is going to use you, use this place, to care for others.”

  Emma didn’t know what to say, so she remained silent.

  “I’ll be in touch.” And with that, he murmured to his horse.

  Emma watched as they made their way down the lane.

  Had she just agreed to house a woman and two small children? Had she agreed to care for more if the need arose? Their community didn’t have any more problems than other Amish groups, but in her mind’s eye, she pictured a long line of folks making their way down the lane and to their front porch.

  A feeling of panic bubbled in her stomach, but she pushed it down.

  As the Good Book says, “Each day has enough trouble of its own.” Certainly that had been true for the past twenty-four hours. No need to borrow problems from the next day when she had quite enough already! But the same Scripture said something about God’s provision. Emma walked into the kitchen, picked up Mary Ann’s Bible, and paged over to the Gospel of Matthew.

  “Do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes?” She sank into the chair and continued reading. “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?”

  For the first time since she’d spied Mary Ann lying on the ground, peace flooded her heart. She didn’t know how long it would take Mary Ann to heal. She didn’t know what Joseph’s problems were. And she couldn’t begin to understand what help Nancy and her boys needed.

  But God knew.

  God knew, and His grace would pull them through.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Danny waited as long as he could to check on Mary Ann the next day. He’d been tempted to stop by in the morning, when he’d taken Shadow on his early morning walk, but he’d resisted. Then as he worked trimming the bushes and flowers bordering his house, he thought about going over. Perhaps they were both resting though, and he didn’t want to disturb that. Finally in the afternoon, after he’d rewritten the same page three times, he called it a day and gave in to the desires of his heart.

  He didn’t want to be a pest, but he needed to assure himself that Mary Ann was healing and that Emma was coping with the latest emergency. She’d appeared quite shaken the day before. Thinking Shadow might be able to bring a smile to her face, Danny called out to him, and the dog obediently fell in step behind him.

  The dog’s training was coming along well, better than Danny had expected. As they walked toward Emma’s, Shadow emitted an occasional whine—no doubt wanting to chase the birds rimming the small pond or take off after the rabbit that hopped across their path. Shadow fairly quivered in anticipation of a good romp, but he stayed at Danny’s heel. Perhaps on the way back he’d allow him a good run.

  He found Emma and Mary Ann in the garden. No big surprise there. Mary Ann was wearing the big black boot, which stuck out from under her dark-blue dress. She looked good, her color back and her customary smile adorning the wrinkles on her face. She reminded Danny of his own mother, and he understood firsthand how important she was to Emma.

  Emma, on the other hand, looked as if she had spent the day chasing after one of her grandchildren.

  “I was successful keeping Mamm indoors and resting for the morning, but by afternoon she was a force to be reckoned with.”

  “She does love her garden.”

  “I can hear you both,” Mary Ann called from her bench, where she sat with a shawl around her shoulders. “Surely I can’t run into trouble by sitting in the garden. The flowers are beginning to bloom, and I want to enjoy their color and breathe in their scent.”

  Emma was feeding the roses with the old coffee grounds she kept for just that purpose. Danny knelt beside her, and they worked the old grounds into the dirt with a hand trowel.

  “Trying to stick close to Mary Ann?” he asked in a low voice.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You’ve practically dug up that rosebush. I thought the idea was to use the tool thingy to revive it, not kill it.”

  Danny knew all about gardening, aerating the ground, and applying fertilizer. But he enjoyed the look Emma gave him whenever he played like he didn’t.

  “I am trying to stay close and keep an eye on her. Though the bump on her head has gone down nicely, she’s still quite wobbly on her feet.”

  “How’s the ankle?”

  Emma stole a peek at Mary Ann, then refocused on the rosebush. “The swelling is better, but the bruising is worse. It’s a deep purple now. Doc warned us it would be.”

  They continued in their fertilizing efforts, working side by side in the afternoon sun. Clouds were building in the west, and Danny guessed they’d have rain again before morning. After initially saying hello to Mary Ann and Emma, Shadow had plopped down on his belly, content to lie on the warm ground and occasionally yelp at the butterflies.

  “How’s our lad?”

  “Joseph has been cleaning up Ben’s office. Since he insists on sleeping in the barn, he can at least move out of the horse stall.”

  Danny was about to reply when Joseph walked down the path separating the roses from the vegetables.

  “Did I hear a dog?” His question was directed toward Danny and Emma, but his smile was for Shadow. It was the first smile Danny had seen from him, and it made him look his age—a young man who should be enjoying life.

  “You did indeed.” Danny stood and called to his pup. “Joseph, meet Shadow. Shadow, down.”

  The smart little pup had been moving toward Joseph at a lopsided gait, but he dropped to the ground at the word down.

  “How’d you teach him that?” Joseph knelt beside the dog and rubbed the spot between his ears—black silky fur that was still a bit loose. The dog would grow into his skin in the next few months. He’d be a big one. That was plain to see.

  D
anny could also see that Joseph was smitten.

  “Shadow is a quick learner. Do you like dogs?” Danny stood with his hands in his pockets, beaming at the boy and dog.

  “I do.”

  “Ever have one?”

  “Nein.” The next words were a whisper. “We weren’t allowed.”

  Danny seemed to consider that for a moment, then nodded his head. “Some Amish don’t approve of keeping pets.”

  “And then there are the puppy mills.” Joseph’s gaze darkened.

  “There are. I saw a few while traveling, but not as many as you might think. Between Englisch regulations and pressure from our communities to treat animals with kindness, the mills seem to be disappearing.” Danny frowned, remembering the few he had seen, but then that memory was replaced by another. “I also met a lot of Plain families who did have dogs or even cats that they kept as pets. Mostly they stayed outside, of course. Not too many house pets among people like us.”

  “So you taught him yourself?”

  “I did. I can show you how later, if you’d like. It’s fairly simple. You have to be consistent, and the occasional treat goes a long way.”

  “I’d love to learn.”

  “Excellent! Say, Shadow would probably enjoy a visit to the barn while we’re finishing up here.”

  “Come on, boy.”

  Shadow trotted at Joseph’s heels. The two were gone without another word.

  “That was nice of you.” Emma scooped more grounds out of the can and worked it around the base of a rosebush that was beginning to blossom pink.

  “Seems as if maybe he missed some of the things of a normal childhood.” Danny knelt beside her and began weeding.

  Emma had shared with him and Mary Ann all that Bishop Simon had told her the day before, all they knew of Joseph’s home life, which wasn’t much.

  “A dog can heal many broken places of the heart.”

  Emma looked at Danny in surprise and he had the sense she was about to ask how he knew that, but Mary Ann interrupted them.

  “I’d like my bench moved.”

  “Moved? Moved where?”

  The wooden bench had sat in the same place for as long as Danny could remember. It had always been at the end of the row of leafy vegetables. The path of hard dirt made a bend in front of her seat. It provided a perfect spot to study the wildflowers to the right, the roses to the left, and the leafy vegetables directly in front. Behind the bench was a large stand of mint, which gave off the loveliest of scents after a rain.

  “Perhaps we could move it over between the herbs and the marigolds.”

  “But, Mamm—”

  “It’s no problem.” Danny helped Mary Ann into a standing position.

  She clutched his arm with one hand and her cane with the other, balancing precariously on her black boot.

  “Emma, why don’t you stand here with her while I move the bench?”

  The place she had pointed to was a mere three feet away. Emma moved to Mary Ann’s side and studied her as Danny picked up the bench, carried it to the new spot, and made certain it was settled firmly.

  “Are you feeling confused, Mamm? Mood swings? Dizziness? You could have a concussion after all.”

  Mary Ann looped her left hand through Emma’s arm. With her right she tapped the ground with her cane. “Don’t worry so, Emma. A change of view is helpful at times.”

  Change of view? She could throw a pebble from the new spot to the old. Danny helped her to the bench, waiting to make sure she was satisfied with her new view.

  He had to resist the urge to laugh. Emma looked both concerned and put out at the same time, but she remained the patient daughter-in-law. Wrapping Mary Ann’s shawl around her shoulders, she returned to the row of roses and had crouched down to continue her chore when Mary Ann spoke up again.

  “We should plant something new there.”

  “Plant something?” Emma stared around at row after row of garden in bloom.

  “I know.” Mamm clapped her hands. “Transfer a little of the rosemary there. It can grow nice and tall. The tiny lavender blooms will look lovely next to the roses.”

  Emma stood, dusted the dirt from her fingers, and put her hands on her hips. Watching her made Danny want to pull out a notebook and begin writing about Amish women working hard on a rural farm.

  “You want rosemary planted there?”

  “Ya.”

  “And you want it done now?”

  “Now would be gut.”

  Emma was too old to roll her eyes and too well-mannered to stomp her foot. Danny guessed she wanted to do both. Instead she marched over to the small shed where they kept garden tools.

  Finding a medium-sized shovel, she backed out of the shed and into Danny. Her face flushed as he stepped back.

  “I’ve got that, if you’ll point out which plant is rosemary.”

  “You know good and well which is rosemary!” When he only smiled, she added, “We have enough to do, and she wants us to transplant perfectly healthy plants!”

  Emma took him to the herb area and pointed out a dark-green bush, which had grown knee-high.

  “Doesn’t look like an herb.” This time Danny was serious. He’d never seen such a big rosemary plant.

  “They grow large. Some people even use them for landscaping.”

  “Does it matter which I dig up?”

  “I’d take the one to the right side. It will leave a bit of an empty space, but this garden could use more open area.”

  Emma stifled a yawn. No doubt she’d risen several times during the night to check on her mamm. Danny wanted to tell her to go inside, to rest, but he knew those would be wasted words.

  He carried the plant back over to the spot where Mary Ann was waiting. Holding it up, he smiled and asked, “Will this work, Mary Ann?”

  “It’s perfect. You can leave it here while you dig. Careful with the shovel though. Digging can unbury surprises. A person never knows when he’ll hit something hard.”

  Mary Ann’s eyes were wide and focused completely on what Danny was doing. She had the look of a child on Christmas afternoon, when the gift-giving time was about to begin.

  Danny pushed the shovel into the rich, dark dirt. Both of their farms had been blessed with good soil. They had very few rocks, and over the years, they’d created pathways for the water to run down each aisle when the rains came.

  Placing his foot on top of the shovel, Danny dug up one, two, three shovelfuls of dirt. He glanced at Mary Ann.

  “A few more.” Now she was leaning forward, hand on her cane and chin on her hand, her eyes locked on Danny and the growing mound of soil.

  Danny added a fourth, then fifth shovelful of dirt to the growing mound.

  And suddenly his shovel hit something hard, and he heard the sound of metal scraping against metal.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Emma didn’t know what to say when Danny stopped, turned, and looked at her. She raised her shoulders up, then down. Perhaps he could dig to the left.

  But Mary Ann had other ideas. “Best see what that is.” Her eyes twinkled, and Emma suddenly realized her mamm knew what was buried.

  She stepped forward to help Danny. Together they dug around the object and lifted it from its hiding place. The thing was rectangular in shape, approximately the size of a large book, heavy, and sealed shut with a combination lock.

  Danny handed the box to her. She dusted the dirt off and carried it to Mary Ann.

  “It’s not for me, Emma. It’s for you.”

  “For me?”

  “Ya. I’ve been waiting until the time was right.”

  “And it’s right now?”

  Mary Ann reached forward and patted her hand. “Open it.” She gave Emma the combination. And how had she remembered that for so many years? But then, Mary Ann’s mind had always been clear. It was her body that was failing.

  Danny had followed Emma over to stand next to her mamm. He bumped his shoulder against hers. “Ya, open it, Emma. I’ve see
n a lot of things in my travels, but never treasure buried on an Amish farm.”

  “It’s not trea—” The word hung in her throat when she saw what was in the box. She pulled out the clear, weather-proof sack. It looked like a Ziploc bag but was made of a heavier material. What was inside had been wrapped in wax paper, now crinkled and yellow.

  Emma sat on the ground at Mary Ann’s feet and pulled the large bundle out of the bag, then unwrapped the paper.

  “There’re hundreds of dollars here.”

  “Thousands, actually.”

  “What? How? Mamm, where did this come from?”

  “Let’s have some tea.” Mary Ann stood and Danny instantly moved to her side. “Tea and maybe one of your cookies. Then I’ll answer all of your questions.”

  Danny reached for Emma’s hand, helping her up off the ground. When their fingers touched, electricity zipped up her arm. Emma felt confused, more confused than she was about the money.

  But instead of asking questions, she followed Mary Ann into the house, put the water to boil, and set out tea, cream, sugar, and cookies. Within ten minutes, they were all gathered around the table. Mary Ann sipped her lemon tea, nibbled on a gingersnap, and then began to tell her story.

  “You know about the war. You both have heard the old ones talk of it.”

  Emma glanced at Danny, and they both nodded. War was not discussed often in their gatherings or their families, but occasionally the topic would come up. When it did, the older folks would describe how they had made it through the years of conscription and service.

  Ben’s father, Eldon, had been eighty-nine when he died. Emma quickly did the math and realized he was probably eligible for service when he was eighteen, during World War II.

  “Eldon had the opportunity to serve with the CPS,” Emma said.

  “Civilian Public Service.” Danny ignored the cookies, something he didn’t normally do. His fingers tapped against the kitchen table. No doubt he was wishing for a pen so he could take notes. “Many conscientious objectors ended up working on public service projects—Amish, Mennonite, Quakers, even Methodists.”

  “We had just married.” Mary Ann stared into her tea, a smile forming at the corners of her eyes. “I thought I would die when he packed his bag to leave, but in the end, Gotte used that time to bless us. Now I want it to bless you.”