by Sarah Price
Henry opened up the conversation. “Gideon offered to plow the old garden patch, Emma,” he said as he reached for the boiled potatoes. “Fresh vegetables next year will keep us all healthy. I’m not too keen on those store-bought foods, you know. Those Englische use chemicals that are certainly killing us!”
Exasperated, Emma rolled her eyes.
Not one to be discouraged, he pointed his fork at Emma. “It’s true! And all those sweets with refined sugar!” Clicking his tongue in disgust, he shook his head and turned his attention to Irene. “You best be using only that organic sugar.”
“I am, Daed.”
Emma caught Irene’s eye when her daed wasn’t looking and mouthed the words I told you so. Both women suppressed their amusement and bent their heads down, choking back laughter by avoiding each other’s gaze. Even Hannah joined in, familiar by now with Henry’s concern for proper eating habits and good nutrition.
Indeed, Henry’s concern was not a new one. His reputation among the g’may included more than just his being a godly man with a fierce sense of piety. He was also known to fret about just about anything and everything under the sun. As he continued to lecture Irene about what was permissible to feed his grandchildren, Emma caught a smile sneaking on Gideon’s face. When he glanced up and saw that he had been discovered, the smile turned into a grin and she too found herself smiling back.
After tending to the needs of her kinner, Irene took a deep, satisfied breath and began to focus on enjoying her own food. “What news, Daed, of Francis Wagler? Has he come back to meet his new maem?”
“Nee,” Henry replied, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “Curious that. I have heard nary a peep about him. Emma, what says Anna?”
The eyes of the adults shifted to Emma, and for just a moment, she wanted to squirm. Instead, she merely shrugged her shoulders. “She shared a lovely letter that Francis had written to congratulate his daed and Anna. He apologized for not attending their wedding, but apparently his aendi in Ohio is ill.”
With a disgusted wave of his hand, Henry dismissed Emma’s comment. “That woman never was well thought of! Never letting that boy come back to Lancaster and making Samuel travel to Ohio to see him.”
“Daed,” Irene said softly. “He is a young man now who can make up his own mind.”
Despite the validity of Irene’s comment, Henry shook his head in disgust. “Bah!”
Gideon spoke up next. “I never quite understood that arrangement, I confess,” he stated, properly setting his fork down on the side of his plate.
Henry shook his head. “None of us did, Samuel most of all, I imagine.”
For a moment a silence befell the table. To speak further of the situation would be inappropriate in front of the young kinner. However, Emma knew that everyone was thinking back to the year when Francis’s maem had passed away and her older schwester had convinced Samuel to allow her to raise the young boy. What was to start out as just a few months had turned into several years. With Samuel left in Lititz to tend to his aging parents and work toward paying the enormous medical bills incurred from their illnesses, he had little option except to permit his only son to be raised in Ohio by his deceased fraa’s family. A most unusual situation, indeed.
Ever the peacemaker, Emma sighed and tried to shift the conversation back to a more positive tone. “Vell, the letter that Francis sent to Anna was rather positive, and he did apologize for not having been out here to visit yet, and promised a future trip to Lancaster. Surely he means well. I’ve never heard anything but kind words about Francis from Samuel and Samuel’s family.”
“Kind words gathered from the once-a-year visit Samuel must take to Ohio to see his own son?” Henry’s disapproval was more than apparent. The silence from the other adults seated at the table spoke volumes. Emma seemed to be the only one ready to forgive Francis for his apparent neglect of his own father.
When the meal was finally over and the after-meal prayer was said, the men retired to the front porch, freeing up the space while the women gathered the dishes and cleaned. Hannah held the baby, giving both Emma and Irene a break while they worked side by side, just like old times, at the kitchen sink. The younger children sat on the floor, fitting together pieces of an alphabet puzzle in a long line across the kitchen floor.
Emma was just drying the last dish when she noticed someone walking across the front lawn toward the house. She squinted to get a better look. With a slight gasp she turned to Hannah. “Paul’s here!”
“Paul?”
Emma shushed her sister with a quick glance and lowered her voice to respond so that their words would not carry through the open window. “Paul Esh.”
“The bishop’s son?”
Hannah shifted the baby in her arms and managed to reach a hand up to quickly smooth back her hair so that it lay properly under her prayer kapp. Raising an eyebrow, Irene quickly understood what was happening. She suppressed a smile and turned back to her task at hand of wiping down the counters.
“Good evening, ladies,” Paul said as he walked into the kitchen. “I understand there is a finished quilt to be picked up . . . a quilt in need of binding, ja?”
Hannah smiled but said nothing, too shy to speak up.
“How good of you to remember, Paul!” Emma glanced at Hannah and made a quick face at her, encouraging her friend to say something.
“Remember? How could I forget!” He noticed Irene and hurried over to shake her hand in proper greeting. “How right gut to see you, Irene! Will you be staying for the weekend then? I’m sure that the church members would love to see you after communion.”
Irene shook her head. “Nee, Paul. We will be returning home this evening. We need to be in our own district for communion tomorrow morning.” She dried her hands on the front of her apron and joined Hannah on the sofa, reaching out to tuck the blanket back from the baby’s face. A soft expression of love crossed her face, and she lifted her eyes to look at Hannah. “They are so precious when they sleep, ain’t they?” she whispered.
Curious, Paul stepped forward and looked down at the bundle in Hannah’s arms. Emma watched with delight as she saw his own emotion on his face. As the oldest son of the family, Paul did not have any nieces or nephews yet. His experience with kinner was limited to his own five siblings. From the way he looked at the boppli, it was clear what was on his mind.
“Will you be staying for a spell, Paul?” Emma asked.
He looked up as if startled from his thoughts. “Nee, Emma,” he said, turning his attention away from Hannah with the baby and directing his focus onto her. “While I would so greatly love to stay to visit, I must return home, for we’re to visit family this evening.”
With a simple clicking of her tongue, Emma expressed her disappointment.
“However, I did want to stop by to pick up your quilt. We’ll be in that area and it’s the perfect chance to drop it off at the Hostetlers’.”
As usual his thoughtfulness touched Emma, just one more reminder that Paul Esh would make a wunderbaar gut husband for someone. She knew, from the twinkle in his eye, that the someone in question, the one he had in mind to court, was none other than Hannah.
“Then I shall not delay,” Emma said
cheerfully. “I’m just so grateful that you are able to take it, Paul.”
“My pleasure.”
Emma glanced at her sister. “Irene, mayhaps you might help me collect it? I’ll need help wrapping it.”
She had only just finished the final stitches the previous evening. Earlier that morning she had made Irene study it in great detail to ensure that she had not overlooked any area or that any stitches were loose.
Now they climbed the stairs to the second floor, leaving Paul and Hannah alone. Emma could hear them talking softly and wondered what they might be discussing. She hoped it was Paul asking to take her to the singing the following evening, for Hannah was not an official member of the g’may yet and therefore could not attend the communion service in the morning. This would be Paul’s only chance to ask Hannah to ride to the evening youth singing.
Carefully they folded the unbound quilt and set it upon Emma’s bed. If Irene suspected that Emma took more time than she needed to wrap the quilt in a clean white sheet to protect it from dust along the journey, she said nothing. Yet Emma felt the heat of her older sister’s eyes upon her as she worked. She tried to ignore Irene’s inquisitive stare and began to hum a hymn as she went about her task.
When they finally returned to the kitchen, Emma was disappointed to see that Paul had retreated outside and was no longer keeping Hannah company. Carrying the wrapped quilt in her arms, Emma headed outside to where the men were gathered on the porch.
“Ah, there you are!” Paul said happily and reached to take the quilt from her. “Is this the most prized quilt that I have the distinct honor of taking to the Hostetler’s for binding?”
She flushed at his words.
“Now that I have it, I will make haste so that I can catch up with my family,” Paul said, unaware or merely oblivious to Emma’s discomfort. “I shall see you all at communion tomorrow, ja?”
“Not all,” Emma quickly offered. “Hannah will not be there.”
For a moment Paul looked downcast and disappointed as if he had not previously realized that. “Such a shame that she will not enjoy worship and fellowship with us,” he said, a genuine inflection of sorrow in his voice. After a moment’s pause, just enough to pay proper respect to the mention of Hannah’s misfortune, Paul brightened and lowered his voice as he said, “But, of course, I shall look forward to seeing you instead.”
Her mouth fell open and she stared at him as he started to carry the packaged quilt to the buggy. She had expected more of a solemn response, not a quick recovery at her reminder that Hannah would be absent from worship. But Paul seemed quite content as he walked a few steps then paused, glancing over his shoulder at Emma. “Mayhaps you might assist me in putting the quilt in the buggy. I would prefer that you lay it the proper way so that it does not wrinkle or get mussed.”
Ignoring the amused look on Gideon’s face, she followed Paul, more out of curiosity than a need to actually assist him. Once she joined him at the buggy, she was surprised that he made no motion to leave. Instead he stood there by the buggy for a moment, fiddling with his hat and shuffling his feet.
“Paul?” she asked. “Is there something else?”
He glanced over her shoulder, making certain that no one was close enough to overhear.
“I have brought something for you,” he whispered, his eyes still roaming behind her to ensure that they were alone. “The other day, when we were in the carriage on our way to my aendi’s, you asked for a Bible verse for the collection you and Hannah are making, and I have brought it.”
She wondered at his attempt at secrecy over something so trivial. “How kind of you!” was all that she could think of saying.
There was another moment of hesitation and he leaned forward, lowering his voice once again. “You may not want to put it in the book, Emma. I think you will understand why after you read it.”
She did not have the chance to respond before he had slipped a small folded piece of paper into her hand.
“I shall see you at the communion service on Sunday then, Emma,” he added, his voice soft as he took a step backward and adjusted the straw hat on his head. He swiftly untied his horse from the hitching post and climbed into the buggy. At no time did he look at her again. In fact, it seemed as though he were avoiding her on purpose.
How odd, she pondered, a confused frown on her face. Only when his buggy disappeared down the road in the direction of Bird-in-Hand did she look down at the paper. With a quick glance over her shoulder to make certain no one was observing her, she quickly unfolded it and let her eyes drift over the neatly written words:
Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish. In the same way husbands should love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. For no one ever hated his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it, just as Christ does the church.
It took her a moment to reread the verses, and then, with a squeal of delight, she hurried back into the house, calling out for Hannah. Irene looked up, stunned by Emma’s show of exuberance.
“My word, Emma! What’s that about?”
Ignoring her sister, Emma ran to Hannah and thrust the paper in her hands. “Read this! Read what Paul has given me for your collection!”
With trembling hands, Hannah took the paper and let her eyes slowly digest each word. She chewed on her lower lip, frowning at one point as she read it. “Oh, dear . . . ”
Emma was surprised by Hannah’s calm reaction. “What do you mean, ‘oh, dear’?”
“I’m not sure that I understand . . . ”
Snatching the letter from Hannah’s hands, Emma started to read it aloud, pausing when she read “husbands should love their wives as their own bodies.”
“Don’t you see? That’s a secret message to you!”
“It is?”
Emma rolled her eyes and sighed. “Well, of course it is! And here. Look at this part.” She pointed to the words “for no one ever hated his flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it.”
“If a husband should love his wife as he loves his own flesh, he’s clearly telling you that he cherishes you!”
“He is?”
Shaking her head, Emma handed the paper back to Hannah. “I’m afraid you must be too stunned to realize what this means, Hannah! He is clearly smitten by you!”
Irene pursed her lips and frowned. “Emma . . . ”
Silencing her sister with an absent-minded wave of her hand, Emma focused on Hannah instead. “It’s only a matter of time,” she said, hugging her friend. “And to think that you’ll be Paul’s Hannah! Isn’t that just wunderbaar?”
Hannah laughed and clutched the paper to her chest, holding it against her heart. Her face shone with joy and Emma laughed in delight. Neither woman paid any attention to Irene or noticed Gideon’s disapproving look as he stood in the doorway, frowning at Emma’s latest misguided attempt at matchmaking.
Chapter Seven
A GENTLE BREEZE BLEW through the open window, cooling the back of her neck as Emma sat on the hard wooden bench, preparing herself for what was going to be an undoubtedly long day. It was Sunday worship, and the g’may was gathered at the imposing leather shop of Jacob Yoder. While the large room was usually full of supplies and inventory used in the Yoders’ business, it was clear that the Yoder family had spent the previous week cleaning out the room in order to accommodate this special Sunday gathering.
While the Weavers’ haus was certainly too small to have ever hosted a worship service, Emma had helped neighbors who had. She knew what was involved in preparing for that special day when all of the members of the g’may would descend upon the haus to sit in the rooms, now cleared of all moveable furniture and cleaned from the top of the walls to the corners of the floors. Days were spent washing windows and waxing the floors so that everything was as pristine and clean as possible. No one ever wanted a member of the g’may to walk away having noticed a cobweb or dirt in the room.
Most g’mays consisted of anywhere from twenty to thirty families—rather large families as six to eight children were the norm, even more if the family were farmers. When the church districts eventually grew too large, as they usually did, they would split, creating two new districts. That had already happened twice in Emma’s lifetime, and she suspected that it would happen again in the not-too-distant future, for they were already bursting at the seams as more of the younger members had grown, married, and were expanding their own families.
Today, however, unlike other worship meetings, this one was limited only to members of the church, for today was communion. Unbaptized members of the district, including the smaller kinner, were not permitted to attend service on that day and stayed home with older siblings who had not taken the kneeling vow yet. It was a day of reflection and worship that lasted well into the afternoon, unlike regular church services that would end with the noon meal and a short time of visiting.
