The Healing Jar

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The Healing Jar Page 5

by Wanda E. Brunstetter


  The tinkling of the wind chimes hanging under the porch eaves pulled Lenore’s thoughts back to the present. The day was too pleasant to let worry or negative thoughts take over.

  “Since there’s only one row of berries left to pick, would you mind if I went inside to check on your grandpa?” Grandma asked. “He may have woken up from his nap by now. If so, he will need my help getting up from the bed.”

  “I should go so you don’t end up straining your back.” Lenore started to rise from her kneeling position, but Grandma held out a hand to stop her.

  “I can manage, dear. There’s still some strength left in these old bones.”

  “Okay, but please give a holler if you need my help with him.”

  “I will.” Grandma rose to her feet and started for the house.

  Several minutes later, a ruckus broke out in the barnyard. Lenore looked over. One of their feisty roosters had his head stuck in the hog pen. The poor thing looked like it was doing a dance as it squawked and flapped its wings.

  It’s a good thing we don’t have hogs in the pen anymore, Lenore thought as she made her way across the yard. They might have attacked.

  With little cooperation from the rooster, Lenore managed to free it, but she’d stepped in some manure. Setting the rooster down near the coop, she turned on the hose to wash off her gardening clogs. Only sheer willpower kept her from spraying the now strutting old rooster for all the trouble he’d caused. “I could’ve been nearly done picking berries out here in the hot sun if it wasn’t for you,” she muttered, shaking her finger at Big Ben—a name Lenore had given the troublesome rooster.

  Big Ben turned to look at her, and as if in response, he let out an ear-piercing squawk.

  Lenore chuckled, in spite of her aggravation. With all the negative things going on around her these days, it was good to have something to laugh about, even if it was at the rooster’s expense.

  Chapter 7

  Gordonville

  Hallich gebottsdaag, Mom.” Herschel handed Vera a bouquet of red roses and gave her a hug. Jesse had given her a box of pretty notepaper with matching envelopes, but it paled in comparison to the roses.

  “Danki, Son, for the birthday wishes and lovely gift.” She placed the flowers in a vase and set it in the center of the dining-room table. “You went all out getting me twelve roses. I’m sure it was expensive.”

  “Not too bad. I bought them at the flower shop in Strasburg, and the nice woman who owns the place gave me a good deal.” He puffed out his chest a bit. “Besides, you’re worth it.”

  Vera’s cheeks reddened as she flapped her hand at him. “Go on with you now. I don’t need any praise.”

  Jesse, who’d been sitting in a rocking chair holding Cindy, thought it was time for him to speak up. “Herschel is right, Vera. You’ve done a lot to help out with Cindy since I moved here, and I want you to know how much I appreciate it.”

  She shrugged. “It’s nothing, really. I enjoy helping others whenever I can.”

  “Even so, I’m still on the lookout for someone else to watch Cindy while I’m at work. I’ve asked around, but all the young Amish women in my area are either married with families of their own to care for, or they already have a job.” Jesse stroked his daughter’s soft cheek as she nestled against his chest.

  Vera took a seat on the couch next to her husband. “There’s no hurry for you to find someone else, Jesse. I am willing to do it for as long as you need me.”

  Milton snorted, turning to face her. “You’d work yourself right into the grave if someone didn’t stop you.” He looked at Jesse. “My fraa means well, but it’s hard for her to say no, even when she’s tired, stressed, or in physical pain. So my advice to you, young man, is if you can’t find a maud, then look for a wife.”

  Milton’s bluntness caused Jesse’s skin to tingle. He’d never expected such a bold statement. “I—I’m not ready to get married again,” he mumbled, keeping his focus on Cindy. “But I will keep looking for a maid to watch my baby girl and keep the house running while I’m at work.”

  Herschel sauntered over and stood beside Jesse’s chair. “Why don’t you leave Cindy with my mamm right now and come outside with me for a bit? There’s something I’d like to show you.” He looked at his mother. “Would that be okay with you?”

  “Of course.” She held out her arms.

  Although a bit hesitant after Milton’s previous remark, Jesse stood and placed Cindy in Vera’s lap. Then he followed Herschel out the front door.

  Outside, Herschel led the way to the barn. Jesse had no idea what could be in there that Vera’s son wanted him to see, but he went willingly.

  Once inside the building, Herschel pointed to a pair of wooden stools sitting close to one wall. “Go ahead and take a seat.”

  Once again, Jesse obliged. “What did you want to show me?”

  “Nothing in particular. I wanted to talk to you in private.”

  “About what?”

  “My daed’s offhanded remark.” Herschel folded his arms and leaned against the wooden planks. “He’s worried about my mamm, but that didn’t justify his suggestion that you find a new wife.”

  “It’s okay. I’m sure he didn’t realize how impossible that would be.”

  “You still love your fraa, jah?”

  Jesse nodded. “What Esther and I had was special. I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving her.”

  “I understand. My heart still lies with Mattie, which is why I never remarried.”

  “It’s too bad you don’t have any kinner. Cindy is the joy of my heart. Every day I am reminded how blessed I am to have her.”

  Herschel rubbed a hand across the middle of his chest. “Mattie and I wanted children, and she gave birth to a son a few years after we got married.” His posture slumped as he paused and cleared his throat. “I would have given most anything to be a father, but I guess it wasn’t meant to be, ’cause our boppli died a few hours after he was born.” He heaved a sigh. “Mattie was never able to conceive after that.”

  Jesse stood and put his hand on Herschel’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said gently.

  “Danki. Even after all these years I still think about it. I’m not one to easily let go of things that have touched me on a deep emotional level.”

  Remembering the conversation he’d had with Herschel a few weeks ago, Jesse realized that it must have been the memory of losing his child that caused Herschel to say he’d suffered a loss twice. No wonder the poor man always seemed so withdrawn. After all these years, he still grieved for what he’d lost.

  Jesse closed his eyes briefly. I am ever so grateful for the privilege of raising my precious daughter. The memory of my dear Esther will never die, because Cindy is a part of her. I’ll cherish every day we have together, and if by some chance I do end up getting married again, I’ll make sure Cindy knows all about her mother.

  Strasburg

  “How did you get that nasty-looking gwetsche?” Grandma pointed to the bruise on Lenore’s forearm, where she’d rolled up her dress sleeve to wash their supper dishes.

  “When I put my gaul away in her stall this afternoon, one of the katze ran in front of her. Dolly got a bit frisky, tossing her head from side to side, and as I tried to calm her, I ended up bumping into the wooden post outside her stall.”

  “Better watch yourself around the horses,” Grandpa mumbled from where he sat by the table in his wheelchair. “They can’t be trusted, and you never know what they’re gonna do if something spooks them.”

  With eyes open wide, Lenore turned to look at him. It was the clearest he’d spoken since his stroke. Apparently the speech therapy he’d been having weekly was beginning to take effect. What a joy to see this measure of improvement. Here she’d been looking for ways to bring more happiness into his life, and today, he’d brought some unexpected cheerfulness into hers.

  “Jah, Grandpa, I’ll try to be more careful.” Lenore glanced at Grandma and noticed the sweet smile o
n her face. No doubt, she too was pleased with Grandpa’s progress.

  “Now about that bruise … Have you put anything on it?” Grandma questioned.

  “Just some ice after I came in the house.”

  “Arnica. That’s what you need.” Grandpa spoke again.

  “He’s right.” Grandma reached for a clean dish to dry. “There’s a tube of Arnica montana lotion in the bathroom medicine chest. Apply a thin layer to the affected area three times a day, and it should help. You should also take some of the arnica tablets in my homeopathic medicine kit. Just follow the instructions on the container.”

  Lenore smiled. “Danki. I will do that as soon as I’m done with the dishes.”

  It seemed like Grandma had holistic remedies for a good many things. Too bad she didn’t have one to keep Grandpa from having another stroke. But hopefully with him watching his diet, taking a blood thinner, and doing everything the doctor said, it would never happen again. Lenore wanted her grandparents to be healthy and live many more years. She’d lost her mother’s parents when they were tragically killed in a buggy accident six years ago. The thought of losing either Grandpa or Grandma Lapp put a lump in her throat.

  “Want to join me in a game of Scrabble?” Ezekiel asked, stepping into the kitchen where Michelle sat at the table.

  “Maybe later.” She gestured to the pen and paper lying before her. “I’m working on my grocery list right now, for when I go shopping tomorrow.”

  “You came in here more than thirty minutes ago to do that. Thought you’d have it done by now.”

  She shook her head. “I haven’t decided what all we need.”

  He moved closer to the table and looked down at the list. “We went over all the items we both need during supper, but you only have a few things written down. How come?”

  “I don’t know.” Michelle didn’t look up at him.

  Ezekiel pulled out a chair and sat beside her. “Okay, what’s the problem? You’re depressed about something, aren’t you?”

  Slowly, she nodded.

  “Is it your brothers, because you haven’t heard from them in a while?”

  “No, it’s not that. In fact, I heard from Ernie a few weeks ago.”

  “What then?” Ezekiel cupped Michelle’s chin with the palm of his hand, turning her head to face him.

  She drew a quick breath before speaking. “I’ve been sitting here wondering why God hasn’t answered my prayers about having a baby.”

  He gently stroked her arm. “We’ve had this discussion before, and I thought we’d both agreed that if it’s meant to be, you’ll get pregnant in God’s time, not ours.”

  “I know, but—”

  “Have you ever thought how worrying over this might be causing you stress, and that the stress could actually be keeping it from happening?”

  “I have considered it.”

  “Then stop fretting, try to relax, and put your focus on other things.” Ezekiel put his hand on Michelle’s shoulder. “Philippians 4:11 says, ‘I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.’”

  “Danki for that reminder, Ezekiel. You’re so full of wisdom I wouldn’t be surprised if someday you get chosen by lot to become a minister.”

  Ezekiel’s eyes darkened. “I hope not. A lot of responsibility is put on a man’s shoulders when he is selected to be one of the church leaders.”

  “It’s not something you need to worry about, for now at least.” Michelle reached up to stroke the side of her husband’s bearded face. “I love you, Ezekiel, and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “You’d have a lot less dishes to wash.” Grinning, Ezekiel leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Now hurry up with your grocery list so you can beat me at Scrabble.”

  Michelle chuckled. Just a few words of encouragement from the wonderful man she’d married, and already she felt better. There might be times in the days ahead when she would think about her desire to have a baby, but Michelle would try to remember to be content, even if she and Ezekiel were never blessed with children.

  Chapter 8

  Sara was about to leave the flower shop to meet Brad for lunch a little before noon on Saturday when her part-time employee, Cynthia, called out, “What should I do after I’ve washed all the plastic buckets in the back room?” Cynthia worked three days a week, mostly cleaning. She was also being taught how to make floral arrangements.

  Sara didn’t understand why Cynthia had asked her that question when Misty, her new full-time floral designer, was behind the counter filling out some paperwork. Misty used to work at a flower shop in Lancaster before coming here, after Sara’s previous designer, Peggy, had moved away. So Misty pretty much knew how to run the place. Sara always felt comfortable leaving Misty in charge whenever she left the store for any length of time.

  “Once the buckets are cleaned and put away, you can help Misty in the back room, and work on the orders that came in this morning.” Sara nodded in that direction.

  “Oh, okay.” Cynthia gave Sara a hesitant nod and retreated to the back room.

  Sara looked over at Misty and winked. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  “No hurry. Take your time. With any luck, we’ll have most of those new orders already filled when you return.”

  Sara left the shop and headed down the sidewalk in the direction of Isaac’s Famous Grilled Sandwiches. About half a block down, she spotted Herschel Fisher heading her way.

  “Hello, Mr. Fisher,” she said when he drew near. “How did things go for your mother’s birthday? Did she like the roses you bought her?” When he looked at her strangely, Sara paused. “Oh, I forgot … you prefer to be called Herschel, right?”

  He gave a brisk nod.

  She smiled. “I’ll try to remember.”

  “In answer to your question: Yes, my mother liked the bouquet. Her birthday turned out well, even though she insisted on cooking the meal.”

  Sara remembered the time Herschel’s mother had come into her shop to chew Sara out for selling flowers to her son, which he’d put on his wife’s grave. Vera struck her as a woman with a lot of spunk.

  They talked for a minute about the unusually warm weather they’d been having, before Herschel said he needed to be on his way.

  “I hope to see you again soon.” Sara waved and headed for the restaurant to meet up with Brad. It had been nice to see the gleam in Herschel’s eyes when he talked about his mother. Sara wished, once again, that her own mother was alive. She had so many unanswered questions that she would never get the chance to ask her. All Sara had left of her mother were the messages she’d left in the prayer jars. Some she understood, but others were a mystery. It seemed like Mama had left out an important piece of the puzzle of her young life—the piece she wanted no one to know about.

  Sara sighed. I wish Mama had told me about the notes before she died. There are so many things I would have asked her.

  Ronks, Pennsylvania

  Lenore had been running errands on Grandma’s behalf for most of the morning, and she still had a few more stops to make before going home. Since it was almost noon, she decided to have lunch at Dienner’s Country Restaurant, where Michelle used to work as a waitress. She quit when she married Ezekiel, but she’d said many times how much she enjoyed working there and how busy the place was because everyone liked the food.

  Upon entering the building, Lenore was greeted by a middle-aged hostess who took her to a table near the window. She had only been seated a few minutes when the waitress came to take her order.

  “I’d like a chicken salad sandwich and a glass of unsweetened iced tea with a slice of lemon, please.”

  The young woman smiled and wrote Lenore’s order on her pad. “I’ll bring your beverage right away, but it may be several minutes before your sandwich is ready. We’re really busy today and the kitchen is shorthanded.”

  “No problem. I’m not in a hurry.”

  After the waitress left, Lenore dug in her purse for the list G
randma had given her this morning. The two stops she had left were the post office to mail some letters and the pharmacy to pick up a prescription for a refill of Grandpa’s blood thinner. Those stops shouldn’t take long, so hopefully she would be back in plenty of time to help Grandma fix their supper.

  Lenore felt concerned about how her grandmother would manage all day once school started in August. At one point, she’d considered resigning from her teaching position to stay home and help, but Grandma insisted she could manage on her own and didn’t want Lenore to give up a job she enjoyed. If things got to be too much, Grandma would call on a friend or neighbor for assistance.

  Lenore had returned the list to her purse when she heard a baby fussing. What began as a mild form of crying soon turned into fretful sobbing. She glanced across the room and saw Jesse Smucker at a table, holding his little girl in his lap. The baby’s creamy complexion quickly turned red as she flailed her chubby arms and kicked her feet. Her daddy’s face was equally red. No doubt he was embarrassed and at his wits’ end.

  Without hesitation, Lenore got up and moved swiftly across the room. “I don’t mean to intrude, but would you like me to see if I can settle her down?”

  Sweating profusely, he nodded and held the child out to Lenore.

  A few pats on the back and some gentle strokes of the little girl’s tearstained face, and all was quiet.

  Jesse shook his head slowly as his mouth fell open. “If I hadn’t seen it for myself, I wouldn’t have believed it. Either you have magic in your hands or you’re just plain good with kinner.”

  Lenore’s chin dipped a bit as a warm flush crept across her cheeks. “I’ve been told that I do have a knack with children, which I suppose is the reason I enjoy teaching school.”

  Jesse stared at her with a curious expression. “I’m surprised you’re not married and raising a family of your own by now.”

  His comment caught her off guard, and she lowered her gaze even further. “I would like to get married someday, but God hasn’t brought the right man into my life.”

 

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