The Amish Midwife

by Mindy Starns Clark

  I have no plans to travel to the United States. However if my daughters would like to contact me, or even come and see me, they are welcome to do so.

  Sincerely,

  Aunt Giselle

  THIRTY-TWO

  I took three copies of the email the next day. One for my aunt, one for my sister, and one for my grandmother. I also took the carved box, the century-plus letter, and the locks of hair. The photo of Dad and my baby quilt were safely packed inside my suitcase. James drove his rental—I’d already returned the borrowed Datsun—and I directed him to Klara’s.

  From the road, I could see buggies parked in front of the house as James and I turned down the lane. There were extra horses in the field, eight or nine at least, and streamers were strung across the railing of the balcony of the house.

  “It looks like a party,” he said. I couldn’t imagine.

  He parked behind a buggy and I climbed from the car, my Coach bag over my shoulder and the other things in my hands. Marta’s car was parked over to the side.

  I spotted Will and his girls first in the side yard. He and Christy were batting a volleyball back and forth over a net, and the twins were twirling around his legs. Rachael came around the corner with a bratwurst in her hand.

  “Lexie!” she called out and then ran toward me.

  Will looked up and smiled. “Everyone is in the backyard.”

  “Everyone?” I asked, astonished.

  James had to introduce himself to Will and the girls as I was in a daze. I floated around the corner of the house. Alice was there, sitting beside Mammi. Someone had moved my grandmother’s recliner outside. Hannah was holding Elizabeth Alice. Esther was holding Caroline and sitting beside Marta, and Zed was playing with Simon. Ella and Ezra stood at the edge of the yard, laughing, next to a long table covered with food. John and Sally, who was well into her seventh month, sat together, and Ruth was off to the side, pretending to listen to her sister but keeping an eye on Ezra all the while.

  Alexander stood beside the barbecue grill as smoke swirled out from under the lid. Beyond him was Klara, her arms wide.

  “Wilkom,” she said as she hugged me.

  After only a moment’s hesitation, I found myself hugging her in return. I had expected the process of forgiveness to take a while, but already my resentment seemed to be floating off to the sky and dissipating away, just like the nearby smoke. Surely, God was doing a mighty work in me.

  For the next several hours, James and I both immersed ourselves into the gathering—devouring the food, enjoying the people, soaking in the warm afternoon sun. I relished the relationships we were forging here, and already I wondered when we might come back for a visit. At one point, I looked out across the yard at the babies and children and adults young and old, and my heart was so full I thought it might burst. Heaven had to be something like this, I thought, but with Mama and Dad and the folks from back home and even Giselle as well. Wrapping my arms around myself, I simply took it in, uttering a silent prayer of thanks to God, who had finally led me here, had finally led me home.

  Thinking of home, I made a point of texting Sophie and apologizing for the angry words I had sent her the day before. Of course, I still wished she had told me all that she had known about my past, but what’s done was done. In keeping silent, she had simply been respecting my father’s wishes, not willfully attempting to deceive me.

  After a few moments came her reply: Thank you for this grace. Now come HOME, Lexie. We miss you! Smiling, I wrote back Will do, miss you too, and put away my phone.

  As the shadows began to grow long on the lawn, I managed to steal a quiet moment with Ada so that we could talk. We sat in the car, which was parked in the driveway, a rousing game of volleyball taking place off to one side of the yard. At the cottage earlier, I had carefully halved the locks of hair, turning the two into four. Though I would keep a set for myself, I gave Ada an envelope containing the other set now, along with copies of Giselle’s email and of the old letter. Ada was fascinated by the wooden box, and as she ran her delicate hands over the surface, she asked me if I planned to go to Switzerland.

  I shook my head. “Maybe someday. For now, I just plan to go home.” James and I had tickets for the evening flight from Harrisburg to Portland, and our packed bags were already in the car. I was going back to my job, my house, my orchard. I’d called the Realtor the night before and told her I wasn’t interested in selling after all.

  Ada nodded, handed me back the box, and glanced at her copy of the email from Giselle, the one she had insisted I read to her last night over the phone several times.

  “You seem so settled,” she told me, folding up the letter and sliding it into her pocket along with the envelope that held the locks of hair. As her eyes met mine, I realized that for her the opposite was true. She seemed less settled than she had since we’d met.

  “I found closure here,” I told her, sounding a lot like James. “The end of a long journey to the truth.”

  Again she nodded, and I realized that although my journey may have ended, hers had in a sense just begun. After all, I’d spent a lifetime wanting answers, but she hadn’t even known there were any questions until just a few days ago. She and her parents seemed well on their way to making peace and dealing with the past, which was important. But now I recognized something in Ada’s expression that I had seen in my own mirror countless times before, a hunger for understanding, a need to connect with her true past.

  “You want to go to Switzerland.” I meant it to be a question but it came out more like a statement.

  “Ya,” she answered dreamily, a faraway look in her eyes. Then, as if remembering herself, she blushed prettily and added, “But of course I… It’s not possible.”

  Glancing around at her large, extended family, I tried to find the right words to say. Though I deeply respected Ada’s Amish heritage, I wanted to remind her that she had a choice, that she was free in this life to do whatever she wanted, regardless of how far away it might take her.

  Unable to come up with the words after all, instead I reached into the backseat and pulled out the Coach bag, which I had emptied that morning. “For you,” I said, handing it to her.

  Stunned, she shook her head, again looking around at her Amish surroundings. “I’m sorry, I cannot accept it. It wouldn’t be fitting.”

  I understood her resistance, knowing that the purse was far too “fancy” for one who lived Plain.

  “Maybe not around here. But I have to tell you, Ada, it makes a great travel bag. Might be the perfect accessory for a trip to Europe.”

  The blush in her cheeks spread to cover her whole face. “It is very beautiful.” She reached out a finger and traced it along the handle. “But what about you? You have travels too, ya?”

  I smiled.

  “My big adventure is over for now,” I told my sister, again holding it up for her to take. “But something tells me yours has just begun.”

  Later, back outside, I couldn’t help but linger at Mammi’s chair, even though I knew our time was nearly up and James and I needed to head to the airport. I had no doubt I would see most of these people again, but Mammi was old and in poor health, and I couldn’t help but be aware that this might be our final visit. That made our time together now bittersweet, our parting that much more difficult.

  “You will write to me of your home out there in Oregon, yes?” she asked, taking both of my hands in hers as I knelt beside her. “I would love to hear from you now and then, to know you are doing well.”

  I nodded, biting my lip, afraid that if I tried to speak I would cry. She seemed to understand. With effort, she raised one fine, wrinkled hand and placed it against my cheek.

  “That’s a good girl,” she said, and her words echoed in my heart, stirring wisps of memory from our long-ago last farewell.

  We said our goodbyes and then it was time for the rest: David and Esther and Simon and Caroline. Alice and Nancy. Will and Christy and the twins, Mat and Mel. Jonas and H
annah and Rachael and Elizabeth Alice. Klara and Alexander and Ada—my sweet sister, Ada.

  Then, at last, came Marta and Ella and Zed. Marta hugged me fiercely, and before we pulled apart she whispered in my ear, saying that she’d spoken to Connie, who had already talked with the DA, and the case was to remained closed.

  “Thank you for making me tell the whole truth,” she added as we pulled apart.

  I simply smiled, looking from her to Klara, who had moved to stand beside Alexander and was discreetly holding his hand. A verse came to mind, one that applied to all of us: Then you will know the truth and the truth will set you free.

  Ella and Zed insisted on walking us to our car. We bid a last farewell to the others gathered there in the backyard and then walked toward the front with the two teens just as the sun began to dip below the horizon.

  “So if you guys get married, can I be a bridesmaid?” Ella asked, linking her arm in mine as we walked.

  I could feel my face blushing a hundred shades of red, but James simply grinned and said, “Absolutely, Ella, as long as you’re willing to come to Oregon. I’m thinking maybe we’ll have the ceremony in the orchard.”

  Both James and Ella looked at me, waiting for my assent. Nothing would thrill me more than to join hands in marriage with this man there in the heart of my father’s beloved grove of hazelnut trees, in the midst of some of the Creator’s most beautiful handiwork.

  “Well, Lexie, what do you think?” Ella prodded me.

  I looked from her to James.

  “I think someone needs to ask a certain question before someone else is going to start discussing details,” I said.

  Zed chuckled and James laughed, but Ella merely pouted.

  “I tell you what, Miss Ella,” James said, noticing her scowl. “There is a certain question I’ll be asking someone very soon, so maybe before I do I could text it to you and you could let me know if I’ve worded it romantically enough.”

  That drew a small smile from her lips.

  “Okay, but remember, it has to be very romantic. Don’t just throw it out there like it’s nothing.”

  “Duh, Ella,” Zed chimed in, “why do you think he’s not down on one knee right now? Get a clue. It has to be just right.”

  Now it was my turn to laugh, wondering how James and I were suddenly being bulldozed by mere munchkins.

  Our time for chatting was done, and at the car we said our final goodbyes to the kids. I would miss Ella, of course, but when I hugged Zed and thanked him for all of his help, I could feel an actual, physical pang deep in my heart. He was my nephew, but I couldn’t tell him. Chances were, he might never find out.

  It wasn’t until I was in the car and James had started it up that I realized it didn’t really matter whether Zed ever learned of our special bond or not. To him, family was family, regardless of DNA. That was a truth I had always known, of course, but it didn’t hurt to be reminded of it now.

  “Ready to go?” James asked.

  I turned and looked at him, at his handsome face, his loving eyes, his furrowed brow.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He shrugged. “I just want to make sure you’re good. It’s been quite an eventful trip.”

  Placing one hand on his arm, I assured him I was better than I’d been in a long time, and I was leaving here in peace this time, not in pain, and that made all the difference.

  Relaxing somewhat, he backed the car around and headed toward the main road. As we went down the lane I turned and looked back over the grassy, gently sloping lawn one last time. Hungrily, I took in the image, imprinting it on my mind.

  As we pulled away, I thought about pulling out my camera and snapping one final picture but decided against it. I didn’t need a camera to remember this home, these families, this feeling of being so absolutely surrounded in love. I didn’t need to flip through an album to remember the eight babies I’d delivered in Lancaster County either, nor their mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters. I didn’t need photos to recall the peacefulness of these rolling hills, the warmth and vitality of the Amish homes, the complex and fascinating people who shared my blood and my heart. All were pictures I would never, ever forget. Put together, they told my story.

  The story I had found at last.

  DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

  1. Lexie is surprised to find that her father withheld parts of her adoption story. What was her father’s motive? Do you think he was right or wrong in doing so?

  2. What role does Sophie play in Lexie’s life? Does Sophie reveal too little information about the past to Lexie? Or too much?

  3. According to the Benchmark Adoption Survey (1997), sixty percent of Americans have a personal experience with adoption, meaning that they, a family member, or a close friend was adopted, adopted a child, or relinquished a child for adoption. Many other Americans have an indirect connection. Do you have a connection with adoption? If so, what is it? Has this story changed the way you view adoption?

  4. Lexie has a long-standing fantasy about her birth family. How did her fantasy help her through the years of not knowing the truth about her past? Have you ever held onto a childhood fantasy or known someone who has? What were the benefits? What was the harm?

  5. How does Lexie’s Mennonite community in Oregon compare to the Amish community she encounters in Pennsylvania? What does she find attractive about the Amish? What do you find attractive about the Amish?

  6. Who is Marta trying to protect by not being forthright with Lexie? Why does Marta think it’s better to leave the past alone? What does Marta have to lose if the truth is discovered?

  7. The Amish practice of “letting be” is at odds with the individualism central to most modern cultures. When do you think Christians should “let things be” and when do you think they should be more proactive?

  8. James tells Lexie there is no shame for her in her story. Is there an area in your life that you have experienced false shame? How did you overcome it?

  9. Lexie finds comfort in Psalm 139:16. Is there a particular verse that has brought you comfort? What is it and why?

  10. Lexie is intrigued with both the word “kinship” and its concept. Have you found kinship in any unexpected places? What impact has it had on your life?

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  The Amish Midwife is Mindy Starns Clark’s fifteenth book with Harvest House Publishers. Previous novels include the bestselling Whispers of the Bayou, Shadows of Lancaster County, Under the Cajun Moon, and Secrets of Harmony Grove, as well as the well-loved Million Dollar Mysteries.

  Mindy lives with her husband, John, and two adult daughters near Valley Forge, Pennsylvania.

  Leslie Gould, a former magazine editor, is the author of numerous novels, including Beyond the Blue and Garden of Dreams. The Amish Midwife is her first book with Harvest House.

  Leslie received her master of fine arts degree from Portland State University and lives in Oregon with her husband, Peter, and their four children.

  For a detailed “Family Tree Companion Guide to The Amish Midwife,” visit Mindy’s and Leslie’s websites at www.mindystarnsclark.com and www.lesliegould.com.

  A POCKET GUIDE TO AMISH LIFE

  by Mindy Starns Clark

  “I cannot imagine being any happier than I am now.”

  —An Amish Man

  As Amish fiction continues to appeal to a huge audience, A Pocket Guide to Amish Life gives you a glimpse into an obscure, fascinating world—what the Amish believe and how they live. Full of fun and fresh facts about the people who abide by this often-misunderstood faith and unique culture, this handy-sized guide covers a wide variety of topics, such as:

  • beliefs and values

  • clothing and transportation

  • courtship and marriage

  • shunning and discipline

  • teens and rumspringa

  • children and the elderly

  • education and work

  Presented in an easy-to-follow and engaging style, th
is pocket guide to the Amish is a great resource for anyone interested in Amish life.

  SHADOWS OF LANCASTER COUNTY

  by Mindy Starns Clark

  What Shadows Darken the Quiet Valleys of Amish Country?

  Anna Bailey thought she left the tragedies of the past behind when she took on a new identity and moved from Pennsylvania to California. But now that her brother has vanished and his wife is crying out for help, Anna knows she has no choice but to come out of hiding, go home, and find him. Back in Lancaster County, Anna follows the high-tech trail her brother left behind, a trail that leads from the simple world of Amish farming to the cutting edge of DNA research and gene therapy.

  During the course of her pursuit, Anna soon realizes that she has something others want, something worth killing for. In a world where nothing is as it seems, Anna seeks to protect herself, find her brother, and keep a rein on her heart despite the sudden reappearance of Reed Thornton, the only man she has ever loved.

  Following up on her extremely popular gothic thriller, Whispers of the Bayou, Mindy Starns Clark offers another suspenseful standalone mystery, one full of Amish simplicity, dark shadows, and the light of God’s amazing grace.

  SECRETS OF HARMONY GROVE

  by Mindy Starns Clark

  What Secrets Lurk Deep Inside Harmony Grove?

  Philadelphia advertising executive Sienna Collins learns she is under investigation by the federal government for crimes she knows nothing about. Suspecting the matter has something to do with one of her investments, the Harmony Grove Bed & Breakfast in Lancaster County, she heads there only to find her ex-boyfriend dead and the manager of the B and B unconscious. As Sienna’s life and livelihood spin wildly out of control, she begins to doubt everyone around her, even the handsome detective assigned to the case.

  As Sienna searches for the truth and tries to clear her name, she is forced to depend on the faith of her childhood, the wisdom of the Amish, and the insight of the man she has recently begun dating. She’ll need all the help she can get, because the secrets she uncovers in Harmony Grove are threatening not just her bed-and-breakfast, but also her credibility, her beliefs, and ultimately her life.