“Did you hear me, Sister Jancey?” Madelyn tugged on my hand.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. My thoughts were elsewhere.” I leaned down to eye level with the girl. “You now have my full attention.”
“I asked if you would like to go back to the house with us. We usually go home until time for prayer meeting.”
Uncertain what I was supposed to do, I sent a questioning look in Brother Herman’s direction. “Ja, that would be gut. You go with the Hetrigs. Madelyn will keep you entertained, for sure.”
After placing a kiss on my mother’s cheek and bidding my parents good-night, I joined the Hetrig family. Brother Werner gestured toward the kitchen house. “My wife will be home in a short time. First she must finish her work with the other women while they clean in the Küche.” He raised his eyebrows. “You understand?”
With a slight nod, I stepped alongside Madelyn. “Yes, Sister Hanna described her work to me earlier.”
“I would like to hear why you have joined us here in Middle Amana, Sister Jancey.” Brother Werner glanced over his shoulder as he spoke. “I know your parents lived here long ago, but I am sure to come here caused you some worry, ja?”
“You’re right. Coming here was a big decision for me, but I wanted to be with my parents. They are all the family I have. Brother Herman may have told you my mother’s health is failing.”
Brother Werner didn’t indicate whether he’d been advised or not, but since I’d told Sister Hanna a bit about my past when we were together earlier, I thought it would be easiest to answer any questions from the rest of the family while she remained at work. It would save repeating the same things over and over.
“It is gut you want to be with your Mutter during her time of need, and we will do all we can to help you and your parents.” He glanced at Ritt and then Madelyn. “Won’t we?”
Both of them agreed. I didn’t miss the sympathy in Ritt’s eyes when he looked at me. “You should tell us whatever you need, and we will answer any questions you have. Do not be afraid to ask.” His voice radiated a deep warmth and kindness that made me feel comfortable in his presence.
“Thank you, Ritt. I’m sure I’ll have lots of questions until I learn how things are done and where everything is located.”
He chuckled. “Will not take long to show you where things are. The village isn’t so big, and you speak German, so anyone can help you if you get lost.”
“Where did you live before you came here? Was it a big city?” Madelyn spread her arms wide.
“My parents and I had a home in Kansas City, Missouri. I consider it a big city, but it isn’t as large as some of the cities on the East Coast. Still, it is much larger than Middle Amana.”
Madelyn’s eyes grew wide. “I would be afraid in such a big place.”
Brother Werner turned toward me as we walked inside the house. “Did your father work in Kansas City, Sister Jancey?”
I nodded. “He owns Forsythe Construction Company, which is located in Kansas City, but sometimes his contracts would take him to nearby smaller communities. As soon as all of his current construction contracts are complete, the business will be sold.”
Ritt opened the door to their parlor and waited while we entered. Once inside, we sat down, and Ritt leaned forward. “I am curious about one thing. If your Vater owned the business, why didn’t he name it Rhoder Construction Company?”
I explained that my father and mother had come to own the business, as well as our house, because of the kindness of Mr. and Mrs. Forsythe. “They were like grandparents to me. Since they had no children, they treated our little family like their own. My father wouldn’t have considered changing the name of the company when he took over. Besides, keeping the name helped remind him of all the good that happened to our family. We were very fortunate to have met Mr. and Mrs. Forsythe.”
“Ja, is true, but I think Mr. Forsythe must have known your Vater and Mutter would carry on his business in an honorable way. He was a gut judge of character. I understand the business has done very well.” Brother Werner removed a pipe from his pocket and filled it with tobacco.
“Yes, the business has prospered under my father’s direction.” The fact that Brother Werner knew about the success of Forsythe Construction surprised me, since he hadn’t previously indicated he knew anything about our family or my father’s business ventures. Perhaps Brother Herman had provided some details about our family.
Madelyn inched closer, and when I pointed to the empty space beside me on the sofa, she immediately filled the spot. “Did you work in a Küche like my Mutter?”
“No, I taught school at an orphanage a few miles from our home.” I didn’t know if my father had shared that bit of information, but I saw no reason to withhold the truth. Keeping my eyelids at half-mast, I ventured a glance at Brothers Werner and Ritt, curious how they might react to such news.
Madelyn gasped and clapped a hand to her lips, her eyes shining with disbelief. “You were a teacher?” Though her words had been muffled, I’d clearly understood her question.
“Yes, I had a wonderful group of boys and girls in my class, and I was sad to tell them good-bye.” I inhaled a ragged breath, remembering each of the children’s faces as clearly as if they were sitting in front of me right now.
Madelyn moved her hand from her lips. “What will you do? The sisters cannot teach in the Amana schools, only the brothers.”
Her look of concern warmed my heart and I patted her hands. “I knew that before I came here, so you need not worry. Brother Herman has already told me that I will be caring for my mother and also helping to clean the quarters occupied by the outside workers near the woolen mill.”
“You’ll be helping Sister Margaret.” Brother Werner took another draw on his pipe. “She’s a nice young woman and a hard worker, but she is . . .” He hesitated for a moment, obviously looking for the proper word. “Clumsy. Ja, clumsy. She sometimes can make as much mess as she cleans. It will be gut for her to have help.”
I snapped to attention at Brother Werner’s remark. I doubted I could provide a cure for clumsiness, and any attempts to correct Sister Margaret could spell disaster. And I didn’t think she’d like being corrected by an outsider.
During my first weeks at the orphanage, I’d learned that suggesting new ideas could lead to heartrending ostracism—something I wanted to avoid here. I would do my best to perform my job in a suitable and efficient manner, and I would do my best to help Sister Margaret, but unless requested, I wouldn’t make suggestions. And I certainly wouldn’t criticize her work habits.
“If you still want to teach, you could help me with my reading, couldn’t she, Vater?” The color heightened in Madelyn’s cheeks as she turned toward me. “I’m not gut at reading. Brother Wieler says I need more practice. He’s our teacher. He is married to Sister Bertha at the Küche.”
“If your mother and father agree, I would be pleased to help you with your reading, Madelyn, but I don’t want to break any of the rules.” I glanced at Brother Werner.
“Ach, would not be breaking rules to help her read. No different than to have her Mutter or me sit at her side and listen, but I can stop at the school and speak to Brother Wieler, so he will know you are helping Madelyn.” He pushed up from his chair. “I need to go to my room for a few minutes. Please excuse me.” He waved to the three of us. “You go on and visit with one another.”
Ritt smiled at his sister. “The schoolwork is not so important, Madelyn. You worry too much about your reading and writing.”
I stiffened at Ritt’s comment. Did he truly believe education wasn’t important? Or did he think it wasn’t important because Madelyn was a girl? Either way, the thought annoyed me. A good education was the foundation of a productive future, for both men and women, and given his age and experience, Ritt should realize that. I folded my hands in my lap and tightened my lips into a strained smile. I didn’t want to challenge Ritt in front of his sister, but if we were ever alone, I’d ask h
im to explain his remark. For now, I’d take another tack.
“If I remember correctly, Brother Herman said you work at the woolen mill, Brother Ritt.” I turned slightly to my right and faced him.
“Ja. I have been there since I finished school. I hope one day that I will become a supervisor, but that will be a decision for the elders when a new supervisor is needed.” He stared down at my folded hands before looking back into my eyes. “It is a gut feeling to help create our fine woolen products.”
“Do you ever need to read or write orders or instructions to complete your work?”
“Ja, for sure. I have to write out the orders for supplies and check them when they arrive.”
I arched my brows. “So you need to add and subtract, as well?”
“For sure. We don’t want to have incorrect numbers in our inventory.”
I could see he hadn’t connected my questions to his earlier remark to Madelyn about her schooling. “I’m pleased to hear that you have put your schooling to good use at the woolen mill.”
His smile wavered as he slowly grasped my meaning. “Ja, I use a little of my schooling to do my job, but is not the same for Madelyn. She won’t be working in the woolen mill, and I don’t want her to worry all the time about not being as smart as the others. Is not gut to compare yourself with others.”
“You’re right, it isn’t.”
Madelyn turned back and forth as she listened to our conversation. There was no doubt this little girl valued her brother’s opinion, and I could see she wasn’t certain what to believe at the moment. I’d likely overstepped my boundaries and needed to set the child at ease. I grasped Madelyn’s small hand in my own.
“We are all different, Madelyn. Each of the children in my class learned at a different rate. Some were good at reading, so they learned quickly.” Madelyn’s smile drooped, and I squeezed her hand. “But those same students didn’t learn their arithmetic as quickly as they learned their reading lessons. God has given all of us special gifts, but I encouraged my students to do as well as they could in all of their studies. And that’s what I’m going to help you do—be an excellent student. We’ll work well together, and you’ll do fine. You just wait and see.”
Shortly after Brother Werner rejoined us in the parlor, Sister Hanna returned home from the Küche, her cheeks rosy from the brisk walk in the coolness of the spring evening air.
Only moments after greeting his wife, Brother Werner gestured to Madelyn, Ritt, and me. “Come along. Is time for prayer service.” I wasn’t certain if Brother Herman or my parents expected me to attend prayer service with the Hetrig family, so I hesitated for a moment. The older man arched his brows. “Something is wrong?”
“My parents didn’t say if I was supposed to attend any of the church services. I wasn’t sure it would be proper.”
Brother Werner waved a dismissive gesture. “Ach! You are welcome to join us. Our prayer meetings are not long, but we attend every evening. Your parents told you this?”
I grabbed my shawl as we departed. “Yes. They said there would be meetings seven times a week and sometimes more during holidays.”
“We have prayer service every evening. Is not like our Sunday meetings, but we gather in small groups to pray and read the Bible. And there is no reason why you should not be with us. Is always proper to meet with others for prayer and to worship our Lord, ja?”
I nodded my head. “I wanted to be certain I was doing the right thing, since I haven’t yet learned all of your ways.”
Madelyn skipped to my side and grasped my hand. “I’ll help you learn. We can trade lessons, ja?”
I squeezed her hand. “That would be perfect, Madelyn. I can hardly wait to begin.”
Chapter 7
I had expected to begin work the day after our arrival in Middle, but Mother’s initial spurt of energy didn’t last. Instead of starting my job, I remained at home to care for her. In some respects it worked to advantage for me. When Mother wanted to remain awake and visit, she told me about her early years in the colonies—how she’d worked in the large garden that supplied fresh vegetables to the Küche where she and her family ate their meals. At times she became surprisingly animated. When she talked about the delivery of bread and coffee cakes from the village bakery, she lifted her nose in the air and sniffed as if she could still smell the yeasty aromas. Though I wasn’t excited to hear tales of butchering, my mouth watered when Mother spoke of the cured hams and the sausages, for I’d already tasted both during meals at the kitchen house.
She described how the women preserved and dried fruits and vegetables for the winter months. “If you ask Sister Hanna, she can show you how things are stored in the cellar below the Küche and in the drying houses.”
Although not so different from the way things were done in the outside world, I couldn’t imagine the enormity or the responsibility of preparing and storing enough food to feed so many people through the winter months.
All of it interested me, yet I wondered why Mother hadn’t told me any of this years ago. Perhaps back then it hadn’t seemed important. Now she likely hoped her remembrances would help me adjust and feel a sense of belonging. And they did help, but I believed both time and participation would teach me the most about this new way of life.
Worrying I might forget some of the Amana customs and regulations Mother spoke of, I began writing her recollections in my journal after she went to sleep. Whether good or bad, a memory, or a rule to live by, I wanted to retain her words.
Last evening I’d received notice that today I would commence my new job of cleaning the men’s dormitory. So this morning I opened my journal, and to refresh my memory, I read aloud some of the rules Mother had mentioned during our visits: “Don’t talk during meals; walk to and from church with the women; always enter the women’s door; a single life serving God is preferable to marriage; a year of waiting is necessary after receiving the elders’ permission to wed; a young man must be twenty-four years of age before marriage.” My thoughts turned to Ritt and I stopped short. I barely knew him, so why had he come to mind rather than Nathan?
Across the hall, my mother stirred and I closed the book. I wondered if the doctor had informed Brother Herman that my mother’s health had shown some improvement over the past few days.
Since our arrival, time had passed quickly, and our small apartment now bore some semblance of our former home. The overstuffed sofa and three chairs, though somewhat less sturdy than those constructed in the colonies, looked quite nice in the parlor. I’d taken care to arrange small marble-topped tables near each of the chairs and topped them with vases and kerosene lamps. I’d become accustomed to the gaslights in our Kansas City home, but it hadn’t taken long to adjust to the flicker of the kerosene lamps. If my parents experienced any difficulty readjusting to their earlier way of life, or if they missed any of the conveniences we’d once enjoyed, they gave no sign. In truth, they both appeared quite content.
For as long as I could remember, my father had read the daily newspaper each morning without fail. Now, instead, he read the Bible, and the only news from the outside world came by letter. Only one had come since our arrival, and it was from Father’s lawyer. A brief note stating funds had been transferred from the sale of our house to the elders of Middle Amana, as previously instructed.
I had hoped to hear from some of my students by now, for I’d left a packet of addressed and stamped envelopes with Mr. Ludwig at the orphanage. Of course, I couldn’t fault the children overmuch, for I’d written only one letter to them. If Miss Manchester was teaching all of the children, she wouldn’t have time to help them pen letters. Still, I couldn’t help worrying about Charlie and his arithmetic or about Bertie’s progress in reading. And was Miss Manchester exercising patience with Henry? The boy needed a gentle hand. If he was pushed, he often stopped trying. Would Henry or any of the other children regress in my absence? My heart ached as I thought of each one.
During these past weeks I’d almost
learned to schedule my life according to the bell that tolled throughout the village. The sound was a reminder of when and where I needed to be present throughout the day. Mother had said I would eventually enjoy the soulful clanging, and she’d been correct. It hadn’t taken long to grow accustomed to the familiar sound.
I’d arisen and dressed early this morning, for I’d been awake most of the night. My shoes clacked on the wooden sidewalk as I accompanied Father to the Küche for breakfast. I doubted I’d be able to hold anything in my stomach. I hadn’t been this nervous when I began my first day of work at the orphanage. I’d always been confident about my abilities, but this was different. I’d never before worked as a cleaning woman, and I worried I’d do something wrong. I cared little about myself, but I didn’t want to cause my parents any embarrassment.
“So today you will begin your first day of work.” My father walked alongside me. “I know this work doesn’t put your education to good use, but you should remember that whatever we do, we are to do it heartily, as working for the Lord and not unto men—that’s from Colossians.” He smiled down at me as I hurried to match his stride. “I have no doubt you will do your very best. And you should know I am very proud of the way you have worked to adapt to this new way of life. I am sure it has not been easy.”
I glanced down at the dark calico dress that had replaced the clothing I’d worn in Kansas City—colorful cashmere jersey suits, well-tailored skirts, lace-trimmed shirtwaists, as well as numerous day dresses and evening gowns. I offered a weak smile. “I am adjusting. I do miss teaching and the freedom of choosing my own schedule, but there is something to be said for this simple way of life.”
He nodded. “And Nathan? Do you miss him, too?”
I hesitated, trying to decide exactly how I did feel about this separation. “I’d certainly enjoy the sight of a familiar face, but Nathan hasn’t written, so he may have found someone else to occupy his free time.” The thought that Nathan would so easily toss me aside bothered me a bit. I didn’t know if it was pride or if I had cared for him more than I wanted to admit. Though he hadn’t exhibited his best characteristics before I departed, Nathan could be fun and quite charming. During the early days of our courtship, he’d enjoyed attending parties and celebrations of every sort. It hadn’t been until later that his raw ambition to become a successful businessman had outweighed his fun-loving side—the side I enjoyed and missed.
A Simple Change Page 6
