A Simple Faith

by Rosalind Lauer

  “No,” she said quickly. “No, I can’t forgive her for doing something so stupid, so selfish. It’s unforgivable.”

  “In our faith, there is always room for forgiveness.” Zed’s voice was even but firm, holding no judgment. “Gott wants us to forgive others because He forgives us. His love for us is great. It knows no boundaries … like the sky above. That’s how I think of His forgiveness. A big, blue sky that goes on forever.”

  “That’s a beautiful image, but I think it’s different when your own child does something horrific like this. It’s an extension of you.” She looked around the table. “Does anyone here even have children?”

  George lifted his hand. “Three sons, and I know what you mean. They do shame a parent when they do the wrong thing. But I think you’re being hard on Clara. Hard on yourself, too.”

  “I feel like I could have changed all this if I’d done the right thing. If I’d been more strict with her, a better parent …”

  “We can’t change the past, Graciana.” Dylan stepped in, wanting to keep the conversation moving forward. “As Rachel said, we have to let go of the things beyond our control.”

  “I know it’s not always easy to forgive,” Elsie said. “But it’s Gott’s will. And if we don’t forgive, the bad feelings eat away at the soul. Anger is a heavy burden to carry around.”

  “I can vouch for that.” Haley held up her hands, as if surrendering. “I’ve been walking around with a lot of anger and blame for people in my life. I’ve been mad at my parents for thinking that I was a failure. I was mad at my ex-fiancé for not being the right man for me. I was mad at my sisters for being the type of daughters my parents wanted, and …” She let out a sigh. “I’ve just been mad, mad, mad, and I blamed other people for the things that went wrong in my life.”

  Dylan had to keep himself from smiling at her animated admission. There was something so lovable about Haley. She was human and fallible and quick to admit it all and laugh it off. She was sunshine and laughter and … He swallowed, reminding himself to stay on track. He was the therapist for this group.

  “Somehow, the accident released me from the anger that was festering inside me. Not that I don’t still get mad now and then, but now I won’t let it stew. I’ll never forget that terrible night, or the way it shook my life up. But I’ve come away from it seeing how precious life is. I realized that I’d been wasting mine, spending too much energy worrying about qualities in myself that I couldn’t fix instead of focusing on the gifts God gave me. It’s been a hard road, but I’m making my way. And now I’m glad the circumstances of my life have forced me to move on.”

  Moving on …

  As if looking at a timeline, Dylan saw the various stages of Haley’s progress over the past few months. She was thriving, despite all adversity.

  And what about you, pal?

  He was stuck in the muck, right around the same spot he’d been in three years ago when the wounds were still fresh and life choices could be put off until he’d had a chance to heal.

  How many years had it been? How many years could a man coddle himself in healing mode?

  Oh, he’d made a few halfhearted attempts to connect with people who weren’t his clients. There were all those movie dates set up by mutual friends who’d thought that he and the hapless female would be great together. He’d gone ice skating with a woman whose name he couldn’t remember. He’d attended holiday parties and Super Bowl gatherings and church picnics. But through it all, he’d maintained a safe emotional distance, watching the world from behind a wall of glass.

  “You’ve all been very kind, but I’m not ready to move on.” Graciana stared down at the table. “And honestly, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive my baby for being so stupid. I still have a lot of anger for Clara … and for the genius who invented cell phones in the first place.”

  “If you will, I’d like to step out of my role of facilitator for just a moment and share something with you.” Dylan’s throat was tight and he felt a strong desire to crawl under the table and hide. But the voice inside him persisted. “Most of you don’t know my background, but I moved here from Philadelphia, where I used to live with my wife and daughter. They were killed a few years ago in a collision on the interstate. It was the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, and they were headed up to Boston to be with my wife’s parents. I planned to fly up Thursday morning, so I could finish teaching my classes. I was a schoolteacher at the time.”

  He swallowed, sensing their curious stares but not wanting to lose his courage. “For years, I blamed myself for not being there … for not taking the time to drive them that long distance. Our daughter, Angela, she was still a baby, pretty demanding, and Kris was the one who lost sleep to attend to her. Up late, out of bed early. Feeding her in the middle of the night. I kept thinking of the many ways that I could have saved them. I could have taken off from work to drive with them. We could have all flown up together. If Kris had the sleep she needed, if she’d been alert enough to have a better reaction time.” He rubbed his jaw. “The mind is good at coming up with a million ways to punish yourself.”

  Tears sparkled in Graciana’s eyes as she nodded. “I can relate to that.”

  “For myself, I have to admit that I’m still working my way through the healing process.” Dylan’s throat felt raw. Was his pain leaching into his voice? He had wanted to share his story as a lesson in healing, but in this moment he felt like the client, tapping the gusher of pain, fumbling to stanch the flow as the session began to wind down. “But I want to underline what Haley said today, because it’s a valuable message. Anger and blame and guilt will suck the life out of a person. When we learn to let go of those things, we can begin to heal.”

  Elsie and Rachel were nodding in agreement.

  “I know that sometimes healing doesn’t happen overnight. Letting go and moving on can be a process, and that’s why we’re here. To help each other.”

  Graciana’s face hardened into a stoic frown. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think it’s possible.”

  “Don’t give up.” Elsie’s dark eyes glimmered with hope. “Gott’s love is as sure as the sun rising in the morning.”

  “Elsie’s right.” Dylan caught Graciana with a firm look. “You need to have faith that healing is possible.”

  The older woman turned pleading eyes toward Dylan. “I’ll do whatever you say, Doc. I do trust you.”

  I hope your trust is not misplaced, Dylan thought, knowing it was time to wrap up their session. “Here’s something we can try. For our next meeting, I would like everyone here to bring in photos or small objects that remind you of someone you lost. Graciana, it would help if you brought pictures of Clara and some things that she loved so that everyone here can get to know what she was like.”

  It would also serve to get Graciana talking about her daughter’s positive qualities. Maybe it would help her own the compassion she felt toward Clara.

  And maybe it was selfish, but the exercise would help him, too. Maybe it was time to start talking more about the past to free up the future.

  43

  When the therapy session ended, Haley walked out with Elsie and Ruben, who said good-bye and headed off in different directions. Ruben’s father had ordered him back to Zook’s barn, and though no one had mentioned it, it was clear that Ruben and Elsie were not happy with the new situation.

  Left on her own with a lump in her throat, Haley crossed the parking lot to the picnic tables behind the ice-cream parlor. Someone had cleared the snow from the wooden tables, and she climbed up and took a seat atop one. In the summer, this parking lot would be abuzz with cars and buggies. Couples and families would sit back here, enjoying the sweet frozen treats advertised by giant photos in the building’s windows.

  Banana Split!

  Hot Fudge Sundae!

  Strawberry Parfait!

  When she was a little kid, Haley had imagined herself sitting back here as an adult, finally able to order the big ice-cream treats. Fin
ally, a big girl. A teenager. A woman.

  But independence wasn’t nearly as sweet as a sundae. In fact, the more she learned, the more she tasted the bittersweet in situations. Life was a contrast of sweet and sour, darkness and light.

  The miracle of Fanny’s newborn baby against the tragic reality that he would never know his father.

  The beautiful connection between Ruben and Elsie against the sad fact that Elsie could not allow herself to be his wife.

  The glory of finally falling in love against the irony that the man who held her heart was haunted by another life.

  A chill wind snapped around her, but she had left her jacket inside and she wasn’t going to go in there until Dylan was gone. She hunkered down and squeezed her eyes shut against tears.

  The meeting had been cathartic for her. Articulating her journey since the accident had helped to gel her own issues.

  But then … then came the rain. To hear Dylan’s heartbreak, to visualize his life with Kris and Angela, a young happy family living in the city, and to think that it all had ended with one random event.

  Just like a fat SUV swerving into your lane.

  So now Dylan was on the fringes of two highway collisions that had sent lives spinning out of control. Had God chosen him to be here for the Amish because of his own experience with sudden loss and trauma?

  She had to believe that was true. The Amish talked about “Gott’s will” often, and she was beginning to understand the incredible grace that could be had in accepting the things beyond your reach.

  Cupping her hands and blowing into them to warm up, she thought of the prayer her grandmother used to have hanging on the kitchen wall.

  The serenity prayer.

  God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.

  Haley had always had the courage to bulldoze ahead with change, but she wasn’t so strong in the serenity and wisdom departments.

  A motion at the corner of the parking lot caught her eye. Dylan was headed her way, carrying her coat. Oh, great.

  “I’d say that you were going to get a cold being out here without this, but I know that’s not clinically true.” He held up her jacket. “But you will get sore muscles from bracing against the wind.” He climbed onto the table beside her and held her jacket so that she could slip her arms into the sleeves.

  The brief touch of his hands sent a different kind of shiver through her body, and she winced, annoyed with herself for wanting him so much when he was obviously out of reach.

  She had been wrong, thinking that she could simply win him over.

  She couldn’t compete with the ghost of a beautiful marriage. She did not have the power to heal him, and he wasn’t going to move forward until he was whole again.

  “So … what’s the deal?” he asked. “Are you feeling feverish, or was the session so intense that we drove you out into the cold?”

  “I had an epiphany, I guess.” She leaned back so that she could zip her jacket up.

  “That’s good.” He turned to look at her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “I think …” She started to say she was sorry, so sorry for everything he had gone through, but before the words came her throat closed up and a tear slid down her cheek.

  There was a pause. The flash of compassion in his eyes. And then he put an arm around her and rubbed her back, as if summoning warmth.

  “We don’t have to talk about it right now.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m just so sorry. You have a much better reason to cry than I do.”

  “I’ve cried myself a river or two. I’m all dried out. And I hope that’s not pity I hear in your voice, because that’s why I stopped telling people what happened. I couldn’t stand to see that sad-sack look in their eyes.”

  “No pity. Just compassion.”

  “I’m okay with that. We can never have enough compassion in the world.”

  Sitting in the cold, quietly crying with Dylan by her side, Haley vowed to be here for him as a friend. That was all he wanted, all he could handle right now, and she wanted to respect his limits.

  But oh, how she wished she could wrap her arms around him and kiss away the pain, soothe away the scars, whisper away the past.

  She wished she had the power to heal him, to make him whole again, but she didn’t. A tough lesson, but a valuable one.

  True healing and grace came only from God.

  It was time to harness the power of prayer.

  44

  Ruben unlatched the back of his horse cart and let his gaze sweep up to the top of the red barn that had been in his family for many generations. The building, now used to house an indoor farmer’s market and emporium, was showing some signs of wear, with paint blistering on the wood panels.

  It was time to get the painters there, he thought, taking a moment to walk the length of the back of the building. From a distance, the barn looked like a quaint roadside stand, but once you took on a task like sweeping the floors or cleaning horse droppings from the parking lot, you got a sense of the length and breadth of the place.

  Having been away from Zook’s barn, working at the Country Store, he now saw the place with a new eye. Just outside of town, right on the main road, the barn made a good stop for tourists looking for everything from a quick snack of a pretzel to a piece of furniture for their home.

  He saw the value of Zook’s barn as a business.

  But he missed the cozy, quieter surroundings of Elsie’s shop. The birdhouses with their tiled roofs. The scented soaps and lavender sachets. Rachel’s paintings, like windows to moments of Amish life. The candy aisle of homemade taffy, candy apples, and butterscotch fudge. The furniture made by an Amish craftsman, particularly the cradles.

  He had imagined a child of theirs rocking in one of those cradles, a tiny, murmuring baby like little Tom. Why was it so hard for Elsie to see her way to having a little one like that? A brood of babies to love and nurture, the way she was looking after Tom?

  He returned to the cart and hoisted a bale of hay, shifting it to a wheelbarrow. The bales were stored in a small shed at the back of the barn, kept dry and ready for visiting horses, which needed food and water while they waited out the day in the parking lot.

  It was heavy work, keeping the hay stocked and the parking lot clean—just one of the many chores that had to be done to keep Zook’s barn running smoothly. Dry chaff and straw fluttered in the wind as he transferred a bale into the shed. The wind held the last gust of winter, raw and icy, but Ruben kept warm from the fire inside. He was bound and determined to find someone else in the family to take on these chores for him. Not that he minded the work, but every day away from Elsie was like a day without food and drink. The hunger was curling inside him and his throat was parched. He couldn’t go on this way, day after day.

  From behind him came the clack of a horse’s hooves on pavement. It was his dat’s buggy, and someone else rode in front beside him. Ruben brushed straw from his coat as he took a closer look and recognized the broad, friendly face of his uncle.

  “Dave.” He nodded, glad to see his uncle. While Joe Zook tended to be hard on his sons, never quite satisfied that their work was good enough, his brother Dave had a cheerful, easy manner that made room for people to be people.

  “Ruben.” Dave stepped down from the gray buggy. “I’m glad to see you back to work here.”

  “Not for long,” Ruben said, looking tentatively at his father. “I’m going back to the Country Store as soon as I can find someone to take over here. Elsie still needs the help.”

  “Tell Elsie Lapp to bring Caleb in.” Dat’s voice was full of gravel and vinegar. “He can’t be looking to open a business of his own with his dat gone.”

  “He’s right,” Dave said. “Why isn’t Caleb helping out with the store?”

  “He’s better working with his hands. I’ve heard that his manner scared a few customers away.”

  “A l
esson to be learned there. If they need someone to help run the store, Caleb needs to learn how to handle the Englishers,” Dave said, folding his arms across his chest and tucking his hands in to keep warm.

  Dat tied off his horse and headed into the barn. “I’ll just be a minute.”

  As Dave stepped forward to help Ruben transfer the bales, Ruben remembered a message he was supposed to give one of the ministers. “Dylan and Haley are going to be attending church this Sunday. They were happy for the invitation.”

  When Dylan had expressed an interest in observing their Sunday service, Jimmy and Edna Lapp, who were hosting this week, had cleared it with the ministers. At first Deacon Moses had asked if they were “secure in their faith,” as the Amish weren’t in the business of trying to convert Englishers. But the bishop, having met both Dylan and Haley, thought it was okay.

  “Dylan offered to bring some food,” Ruben added, “but I told him the women would put out more than enough.”

  “Good. Dr. Dylan has helped ease the mind of many Amish. So we’ll see them Sunday.”

  “Ya.” Ruben bent his knees as he reached down to help Dave offload the last bale. “This is a task anyone could do. I’m thinking that Caleb Lapp should take my place here and I’ll go back to the Country Store.”

  “You are bound and determined to get back there, aren’t you?” Dave rubbed his hands together, his eyes narrowed in thought. “I’ve never seen you with such ants in your pants. What’s got into you?”

  Ruben was about to brush off the question, but he couldn’t lie, and Dave wasn’t one to judge a man. “Truth is, I want to work with Elsie Lapp.”

  “Elsie?” Dave’s brows lifted in interest. “Ach, Elsie.” Dave rolled his eyes toward the heavens. “How could I not see the one thing right before my eyes? So Elsie is the girl you favor.”

  “Ya.” Ruben rolled the wheelbarrow back into place and closed the door of the shed. “She’s the one.” He wasn’t ashamed of that.

  “And she’s the girl who has said she’ll never marry?”