She got up and put out the lantern and hobbled back to bed, wondering why the sovereign God and heavenly Father chose to heal some people and not others.
The mules in the barn must have heard it in the distance before Rachel and her husband ever did—the stark, abrupt smack of thunder. The air was still outside their open bedroom windows, oppressive and damp. The very next moment, a sudden wind kicked up, howling past the eaves and sending dust spitting against the north side of the old stable.
Joseph rose from his chair and hurried to the windows to close them. “Once the rain’s over, I’ll open them again to let in some cooler air.” He mentioned that too much rain might put a damper on the Bird-in-Hand Fire Company Carriage and Antique Auction tomorrow. “Wish I could go, but work comes first,” he said.
“I wonder if I shouldn’t go down and close the first-floor windows. They’re all wide open,” Rachel said, moving toward the hallway.
Downstairs, she made her way quietly to the kitchen, then to the middle and front rooms, going through the house to lower all the windows. At last, she slipped by Maggie’s little haven and saw her closing her window. She could hear her murmuring, evidently in pain, and once again Rachel felt sorry for her.
Surely something could help her, Rachel thought as she made her way back upstairs to Joseph. “Maggie was closing her window,” she told him.
“Still up at this hour?” he said, settled now in his chair.
“The whistlin’ wind must’ve bothered her.” Rachel began to pull her hair back into a loose ponytail. “Like father, like daughter.”
“Well, she’s more like her mother, really.” Joseph looked over at Rachel.
“And the boys . . . they’re like you, jah?” Rachel went to their bed and sat there, aware of how stuffy it was already getting with the windows closed. She left the sheet and quilt folded below her feet.
“I see some of myself in all my children, but Leroy’s the most like me, odd as that may seem.” Joseph drew a deep breath. “He’s hardworking and leaves no stone unturned to get what he’s strivin’ for.”
Rachel leaned against the headboard.
“But I’m more concerned now than before about how he’s been acting, even toward me, here lately. I plan to take him fishin’ Saturday morning. Something’s gnawing at him, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”
“What if it fans the flame?” Rachel asked, concerned.
“Ach, can’t get much worse. Can it?”
Rachel wasn’t going to say more. Joseph’s decisions about his children were up to him. Still, she feared further upheaval from Leroy, whose perpetual scowl was all too obvious.
“I’ll make sure he knows how much I love him, too,” Joseph said quietly.
“Jah, des gut,” Rachel was quick to agree.
On Saturday morning after breakfast, Rachel, Grace, and Miriam left for market to sell many of the pint jars of strawberry jam, leaving Maggie home, as was her wish. Since she was feeling more energetic today, she decided to get word to cousins Luke and Lila about going with them to the tent meeting that evening. But because Dat and Leroy had gone fishing, just the two of them, she would have to wait to honor her promise to Dat first, before sending Andy or Stephen over with the pony cart so that Luke and Lila would know to pick her up.
Meanwhile, Maggie baked two strawberry pies for supper—one to share with Aunt Nellie. And as she worked, she read one verse after another, many of them about the healing miracles of Jesus. She could scarcely stay away from the Good Book, so she kept it lying open on the counter as she baked.
Before the noon meal, Aunt Nellie brought over tuna salad sandwiches and a macaroni salad, which made putting together a meal for Dat and her brothers very easy. Rachel and the girls wouldn’t be back from market till late afternoon, as was typical.
Like always, Dat sat at the head of the table and bowed his head to ask the silent blessing. Once everyone had food on their plates, Dat began to tell about the four fish he and Leroy had caught and tossed back.
Maggie had been curious about the lack of fresh fish to clean and fry, but there were times when her father just enjoyed fishing for the relaxation of it, and by the look on Leroy’s face, this had been one of those times. Leroy’s scowl had disappeared, and he looked as pleasant as before Mamm had become so weak and ill.
“The rain of the past couple nights soaked the ground real gut,” Leroy said, holding the second half of his sandwich near his mouth. “It was still glodsick out in the pasture.”
Andy nodded and grinned. “Soggy’s right!”
Stephen pulled a face. “My feet got stuck deep in a suck hole when we were roundin’ up the mules, an’ Andy had to pull me out.”
“I thought he was sinkin’ clear away to China,” Andy added.
“Oh now, boys,” Dat said, reaching for his coffee cup.
It looked to Maggie as if they’d washed off at the pump before coming inside. Mamm had taught them well. “Gut thing ya weren’t wearin’ work boots,” she said.
“That’s for sure.” Dat grinned at Leroy now, who smiled back.
Maybe the worst is past, thought Maggie, hoping so. What did Dat say to Leroy while they were out fishing?
16
Maggie’s brothers hurried back to the stable to continue cleaning out the horse stalls, but before Dat left to join them, she shared her plan to attend the tent meeting again that evening. “I just wanted to tell ya this time.”
Dat paused a moment before letting out a sort of groan. “At least we’ll know where you are,” he said as he stood in the kitchen doorway, his eyes serious.
He’s displeased, she thought as he headed out to the stable. Because of this, she decided not to ask to use the pony cart to get word to her Witmer cousins. I’ll see if Leroy will run over there once he’s done working, she thought.
As it turned out, Lillian Beiler, Jimmy’s mother, dropped by an hour later to bring some homemade doughnuts. “I made an extra batch,” Lillian said, dressed in a bright green dress and matching cape and long black apron.
Lillian surely knew that Rachel and the younger girls were still at market, so it seemed like her way to be able to visit with just Maggie. “Would ya like to sit and have some iced meadow tea?” Maggie asked, feeling as awkward as she had when seeing Jimmy’s mother at the fabric store.
“Sounds delicious,” Lillian said, her face beaming. “I won’t stay long, since I’m headed to see my sister down the road a ways.”
“How far’s that?” Maggie asked, curious if maybe Lillian might stop in at Witmers’ for her.
“Oh, three miles or so.”
Nervous about asking, Maggie said, “Would ya mind takin’ a note to my Mennonite cousins for me?”
Lillian shook her head. “It’s right on the way.”
“It would be a big help,” Maggie said, reminding herself as she went to the refrigerator for the pitcher of meadow tea that she needed to actually write the note. “Hope ya like your tea sweetened . . . we sure do.”
“Honestly, I’m partial to sugar.” Lillian laughed and sat down with a great sigh right where Rachel always sat. Mamm’s old spot . . .
Maggie shuffled to the cupboard and poured the tea into two tumblers, then carried them slowly to the table, where she sat across from Lillian.
They sipped their tea, and Lillian wiped her brow and cheeks with her hankie, then slipped it back under her sleeve. “Our neighbors had a lengthy visit the other day from a man sellin’ encyclopedias,” Lillian told her. “Can ya imagine?”
“I’m sure there’s plenty to learn from those.” Maggie smiled. “Did your neighbors purchase a set?”
Lillian laughed and waved it off. “I guess the wife was actually interested, but the husband thought it was against the Ordnung. So ’tween the two of them, they started tossin’ round the idea of buying a set and sharin’ it with all us neighbors.”
“Like a lending library?” Maggie thought this was an amusing way to get around the churc
h ordinance, especially if they were providing the learning for Englischers. “So what happened?”
“I guess the deacon dropped by for coffee, and the husband sent the door-to-door salesman on his way right quick, much to the poor fella’s disappointment. He was that close to sealin’ the deal.”
Maggie shook her head. She could just imagine the situation. “Guess we oughta be ready in case that salesman drops by here.”
Lillian nodded. “’Tis schmaert not to even invite him in. My husband says that people end up buyin’ just to get the salesman on his way.” Now she was laughing, her hand on her chest.
Maggie had never known Lillian to be quite so frank—or so humorous.
Before Lillian rose to leave, Maggie scribbled off a note to Cousin Lila. She thanked Lillian very much for the doughnuts and for stopping by. “I’ll let Rachel and my sisters know they missed ya.”
“You do that, dear. Have yourself a nice afternoon!” With a smile, Lillian took the note and headed out to her horse and buggy.
By now, Maggie was thankful for the empty house. She went to her room to rest up for her evening at the revival meeting. Opening her Bible on the “comfort quilt,” she read all of James again, rereading chapter one, verse four, twice: But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.
Sighing, she leaned back on the pillow and wondered if she might ever be perfect and whole. How much longer must I be patient? For a lifetime?
When she dozed off, Maggie dreamed she was a young girl again, running lickety-split up the road toward the old mill to meet her father, his strong arms wide open to her as she hurried toward him. “Dat!” she called. “Let’s skip home to Mamm and Gracie and Leroy and baby Andy, okay?”
“All the way home?” Dat said in the dream.
“If ya want to,” little Maggie said, laughing.
“Like this?” He skipped all wobbly, just for fun.
In the dream, she giggled. “Don’t forget to whistle, too!”
A doughy scent caught Rachel’s attention as she and the girls walked into the kitchen. There on the counter, she noticed two pies and a big batch of doughnuts. Ach, how did Maggie manage to do all this? she thought.
Then, seeing two tumblers near the sink, Rachel realized someone had come by. Perhaps that person had brought the doughnuts, which were in an unfamiliar basket.
But who?
She cautioned Grace and Miriam to keep their voices low, lest they wake Maggie. “She might be resting.”
“I’ll check,” Miriam said, walking out of the kitchen toward Maggie’s room.
“We sure sold lots of jam today,” Grace said in a near whisper.
“Honestly, if we’d had a few dozen more pints, I think we would’ve sold them, too,” Rachel said, thankful that more berries were coming on in the patch out back. She loved gathering berries, especially in the early morning when the air was cool and fresh.
Miriam hurried back on tiptoe. “Maggie’s sound asleep, her Bible next to her.”
Rachel, too, had noticed this pattern for several days now—Maggie’s interest in reading the Good Book almost night and day. No one Rachel knew had ever spent so much time doing so. “We’ll let her rest a while longer” was all she said to Miriam’s comment.
“I wonder who made these giant gooey doughnuts,” Miriam said, removing the plastic wrap and choosing one, then eyeing Rachel. “It won’t spoil my supper, I promise.”
Rachel smiled. “We’ll just see ’bout that.”
Miriam opened her mouth wide and took a bite. “Ooh, is this wunnerbaar-gut!” she said, holding the sticky doughnut up to Grace, who was counting the market money at the table. “Here, see for yourself,” Miriam insisted.
Evidently Grace didn’t have to be asked twice. She reached for Miriam’s doughnut and bit right into it, her eyes suddenly wide, and then, just that quick, she took another bite. “They’re so good—they must’ve been fried in lard,” Grace said, shaking her head as she chewed. “Ach, get these out of my sight!”
Now Miriam was giggling, and they all had to cover their mouths to keep the laughter in.
The evening had cooled off pleasantly, and Maggie enjoyed the breezes flowing through the tent, where she sat with Cousin Lila in the first row. They’d come extra early because of the swelling crowds, securing enough seats for her and Lila, as well as for Lila’s parents and their four younger children. Upon arriving, Luke had immediately disappeared, eager to assist wherever needed.
Maggie had seen others carrying their Bibles, some looking up the verses from Preacher Brubaker’s sermon. She’d brought hers again, too, having placed bookmarks in a number of spots where she had been rereading since she was last there. She’d even seen Rachel curiously peering into her room as she did so, but Maggie hadn’t attempted to hide her desire for Scripture. Why should she?
After the congregational singing and the offering, it was time for testimonies. A young woman about Rachel’s age went to the platform and began to tell of beginning her new life in Christ . . . and of her new outlook. And, since confessing her sins at the altar ten days ago, her chronic migraine had disappeared. “And it’s still gone, praise God!” she said, folding her hands and looking heavenward.
The crowd responded with a simultaneous amen, and Maggie glanced at Lila, whose eyes were fixed on the young woman. She wondered if Glenn’s healing had transpired like this, too.
Preacher Brubaker took the microphone and explained that this particular testimony was an example of the kind of healing Jesus had described in the Gospel of Mark, chapter two: “‘. . . the Son of man hath power on earth to forgive sins, (he saith to the sick of the palsy,) I say unto thee, Arise, and take up thy bed, and go thy way into thine house. And immediately he arose, took up the bed, and went forth before them all.’”
Maggie’s skin literally prickled, and she located the verse in her Bible on her lap. Jesus both forgave the paralyzed man’s sins and healed him, thought Maggie, watching as the young woman left the platform and took her seat.
Later, when the evangelist began to preach, Maggie stared at the large white banner stretched across the back of the platform: Confess your sins and come to the Savior!
She’d so longed to be here again, it was like walking into a familiar dream. Maggie breathed deeply, thankful for every word the minister was saying about having one’s sins washed away, to be remembered no more. “‘Therefore if any man be in Christ,’” he read from his large black Bible, “‘he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.’”
Another solid amen rose up from the crowd.
Sitting there, something stirred in Maggie, and she wondered if any of the Witmer cousins also felt it. Or is it just me?
Sighing, she considered what it might be like to be healed by the power of God, just as the man in the New Testament had been . . . and the young woman who’d given the testimony tonight. Maggie’s eyes filled with tears until the words in her Bible became blurry. She held her breath, not wanting to call attention to herself. That’s what I long for, she thought.
During the altar call, Preacher Brubaker invited listeners to commit their lives to the Savior of their souls, to cast off their pride and make their way to the front. Maggie had struggled all evening with an urge to turn around in her seat and kneel right there, the way the People prayed together silently at Preaching services. So, while many knelt at the altar along the base of the front platform, Maggie made her seat an altar of sorts and managed to kneel there, just as she’d seen others do. Quietly, she recommitted her life to Christ. As much as she longed for healing, she did not ask for it, yet she could not shut out her awareness of the terrible pain in her legs as the sawdust scratched at her ankles.
A lightness filled her inside—an indescribable sensation—and Maggie lost track of time. She wished she could stay there praying longer, except that her legs were becoming numb, and she worried she might need help to get back onto he
r seat.
After a while, Lila knelt beside her. “Are you all right, cousin? Mamma’s askin’, too.”
Wiping her wet cheeks, Maggie nodded and smiled. “Help me get up, all right?”
Lila slipped her arm around Maggie’s waist and pulled her up, steadying her.
“Denki.” Maggie lowered herself back onto the chair while Lila’s mother leaned forward in her seat several chairs away, making eye contact. Maggie smiled back and then said to her cousin, “Tell your Mamma I’m so glad I came tonight.”
Beaming with joy, Lila reached for Maggie’s hand.
“Can we stay a bit longer?” Maggie asked, opening her Bible to one of the bookmarked pages. She scarcely felt tired at all. “Is it all right?”
Lila asked her mother, who agreed.
Maggie reread a couple of the passages from the evening’s sermon and closed her eyes, pondering many things. She was thankful she’d heard the young woman’s testimony of salvation and healing—such a beautiful combination!
Later on, there was a mention of going out for pie with Luke and a friend of his, but Maggie just wanted to linger there, absorbing this most precious feeling she was experiencing, hoping with everything in her that healing might come next.
“If it’s not one child disappearing, it’s another,” Rachel remarked to Joseph as they sat on the back porch, enjoying the cooler evening.
“Mighty strange, too, ’cause Leroy was his usual happy-go-lucky self when we went fishin’ earlier.”
“How was he at the noon meal?” Rachel asked, curious.
“Well, he seemed just fine then, too.” Joseph shook his head and reached for her hand.
The First Love Page 10
