A Simple Faith

by Rosalind Lauer

  An image of Elsie popped into Ruben’s mind—Elsie sitting by the warm fire, cuddling the baby in her arms. It made his knees go weak at the thought that she refused to let herself have a family, that she would throw away so much happiness for the two of them. “Here’s the thing,” he said, and in the gentlest way possible, he explained about Elsie’s vow to remain chaste so that she would not bring a child with EVC into the world.

  “Mmm.” Dave listened to the explanation, his eyes somber, his breath steaming in the cold. “What she’s thinking … what she’s planning, it’s not in keeping with the Ordnung.”

  Ruben had suspected as much. “I’m working on changing her mind. She wants to have a family. She wants to do the right thing.”

  “Ya, but it’s not really her choice. If she gets baptized, she’ll be making a promise to follow the Ordnung. There’s no picking and choosing which rule you want to follow.”

  Dave’s words gave Ruben hope that Elsie would come around. She was just seventeen. Maybe this was something that would pass. “I reckon she’ll come around then. She’s still in her rumspringa, and you know how that goes.”

  “I do. Our Becky is not seventeen yet and by the time she gets baptized, I don’t know if I’ll have a single hair left on my head.”

  Ruben grinned. Dave had a knack for lightening a man’s load.

  “Elsie will come around,” Ruben said. With one matter resolved, he looked toward the barn, where his father had emerged from the door. Now … if he could just come up with a way to free himself from running Zook’s barn so that he could return to the Country Store.

  Every day without Elsie was a day without sunshine.

  As Dave and Dat headed down the road in the buggy, Ruben stamped his feet on the frozen ground and lifted his gaze to the pearl winter sky. He’d never realized how cold it got in the shadows.

  45

  The sight of her car parked amid rows of gray horseless buggies brought a nervous smile to Haley’s face as she and Dylan made their way to the farmhouse. She paused, turned on the camera in her cell phone, and snapped a shot, careful not to include any of the young Amish men who were parking buggies.

  “A fish out of water,” she said, showing Dylan the photo.

  As he leaned in close enough for her to breathe in that clean, tangy smell that clung to him, she told herself to keep it slow and steady.

  You’re his friend, nothing more, she reminded herself, tamping down the desire to hold his hand as they walked along together. The parameters of their relationship were still clear in her mind; it was her heart that kept pushing the boundaries.

  “And now I’m turning my cell phone off,” she said, trying to keep the conversation going to avoid her wayward thoughts. “I can’t imagine anything ruder than interrupting an Amish church service with a ringing phone.”

  “Good point. I left mine at home. Didn’t want to be bothered with it.” Dylan smoothed down his white shirt and buttoned his black suit jacket. Looking handsome in his dark suit, he had captured the color combination to mix in among the Amish today.

  Wanting to dress modestly, Haley had borrowed a long pleated skirt from her mother. Although it was far from fashionable, it was a solid navy blue and covered her legs to the top of her ankles—a tad longer than the dresses worn by most Amish women in Halfway. Her mother told her she looked like an escaped nun, but now as Haley smoothed down her skirt, she relied on the more conservative outfit to help ease her anxiety about being the only Englisher woman present today.

  All around them were fields swept with last week’s blanket of snow, framed by the distant purple hills. Closer in were the Lapp orchards, rows of fruit trees, now dormant in the winter lull. As they climbed the slope from the parking field, the sight of half a dozen gray buggies slowly edging down the lane stirred something from deep in Haley’s soul. The air was still and cool and full of a sense of community, of mutual respect and rock-solid faith. She felt honored to be a part of such a gathering, even if only for one day.

  On the gravel run between the house and barn, people congregated, talking in small groups. Women and children filed into the kitchen, and a handful of children chased off the Lapps’ dogs. In the distance a rooster pealed a greeting, and two large cows stood at a nearby fence, as if they wanted to see what all the commotion was about.

  “I understand we won’t be sitting together for the service,” Dylan said as they approached the barn, where groups of men lingered beyond the wide-open door.

  “Elsie told me I could sit with her. I’m supposed to go in with the unbaptized single women and girls.”

  “I think these guys right here are my guides,” Dylan said as Haley recognized Ruben, Caleb, and Zed among the young men gathered in a group.

  James was there, too, hands on the wheels of his chair. He was the first to recognize Haley and Dylan.

  “There’s the good nurse,” he said, nodding up at her. “Haley watches over my exercises.”

  “Hey, there.” Haley smiled at the other young men in the group. “It’s a wonder you’re even speaking to me in public, considering the torture of physical therapy.”

  James lifted his chin, sitting taller in the chair. “It’s not so bad.”

  When James introduced Dylan as the doctor for the “verhuddelt,” the guys laughed.

  “I also work with the not-so-verhuddelt,” Dylan said with a deadpan expression. “Basically, I’ll talk to anyone who has an interesting story.”

  “You’ll find lots of good stories from the fellas here,” said a young man with honey blond hair that flipped out under the brim of his hat. “Everybody has a story.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Dylan said, eliciting more chuckles.

  He’s a hit, Haley reflected, pleased by Dylan’s ability to find a niche among the Amish men. He really was an all-around guy, able to make conversation with anyone.

  Ruben directed her into the kitchen, telling her that Elsie was waiting in there. Probably with other women and children, Haley thought, noticing that most of the assembling groups were divided by gender. With a quick nod, she headed for the side door of the house she had come to know well from her visits here to work with James.

  At the kitchen entry, Haley was greeted by Edna Lapp, who seemed genuinely glad to see her.

  “Come in, come in. Elsie’s been looking for you. She’s here somewhere.”

  The large kitchen was crowded with women, many of them with infants in their arms. Haley recognized Fanny Lapp. She was still dressed in black to mourn her husband, but the glow of motherhood on her face belied her mourning clothes. Motherhood agreed with her.

  Looking beyond, she found Elsie guiding Will toward the door. “Go on out and find Caleb. You’re to sit with him,” Elsie said. Her dark hair was scraped back, every hair smoothed into place, and her kapp was crisp and neat as a pin.

  “I just saw Caleb over by the barn,” Haley said, catching Elsie’s attention.

  “You made it!” She squeezed Haley’s arm. “I’m so glad. Come along. We need to walk in at a certain time and sit with our group. It’s how we do it every week. But don’t worry. I’ll help you.”

  “Denki.” Haley smiled down at her Amish friend, no longer nervous.

  It was a morning steeped in tradition. The doors had been opened up off the living area and all the main rooms were now filled with benches, lined up neatly to face the area where the ministers sat. Hymns that reminded her of Gregorian chants, sermons and Bible readings in High German. Haley understood none of it on a literal level, but her heart knew the language of fellowship, love, and faith.

  The service itself, which started promptly at nine, did not end until well after noon. Truly an accomplishment for toddlers, children, and old folks. Without a clue as to what was being said, Haley let herself relax and enjoy the view of this gracious community that had always been “just down the road” from her home. In some ways it was a marvel that a service for more than one hundred and fifty members could be staged i
n a different home every two weeks. But … here they were, sitting in someone’s living room, listening intently as the bishop spoke.

  Haley was happy to stick close to Elsie and follow her cues. When a pan of cookies was passed down their bench around ten-thirty, Haley perked up. They smelled sweet and delicious. Then Elsie explained that the cookies were not for the adults, but for the little ones, who found it hard to make it through the service without a snack. Haley made a sad face as she passed the cookies on, and Elsie bit her lower lip as they both suppressed a chuckle.

  After the service ended, the congregation filed out with the youngest leaving first, followed by the older members. The cool air was refreshing as they stepped outside to wait as young men carried in tables to transform the downstairs room into a dining hall.

  The sun was high in a crisp blue sky dotted with cotton-ball clouds. Haley took in the golden light that illuminated the red of the barn, dozens of black hats and coats gathered in clusters, the crisscrossing patchwork of fields below them. Despite the lingering snow, the still March day held a tender promise of spring, with purple and yellow crocuses peeking up through the snow here and there.

  The atmosphere was festive, with children cutting loose on the lawn. One group was already into a snowball fight with the melting remnants of the last storm, while younger kids bent their heads over some sort of game atop a picnic table.

  “We’ll go back inside to eat when they’ve set everything up,” Elsie said as they meandered away from the house, heading over to a secluded area by the fenced-off pasture. “We’ll be in one of the later shifts.”

  “What sort of things do they serve?”

  “A simple meal. Bean soup and pickled beets. And bread with sandwich spread. Have you ever had that? Peanut butter and marsh-mallow cream?” When Haley shook her head, Elsie nodded. “It’s very good.”

  “Haley?” Rachel called, the strings of her kapp undulating in the breeze as she headed over. “I wanted to sit with you, but I was tending to my younger sisters, and they’re a handful.”

  “Can we sit together at the meal?” Haley asked.

  “Ya. It’s my sister Rose’s turn to keep an eye on the little ones.”

  A plaintive groan from the other side of the fence interrupted, and the three girls looked up to see a fat brown cow trotting over.

  “That is one large beast.” Haley stood back with some trepidation. “How do you get it to stop coming at us?” If the creature barreled into the fence, it would shatter into toothpicks.

  “It’ll stop at the fence.” Rachel shot a look at the cow, then rolled her eyes to the heavens. “Why do cows follow me everywhere I go? My mamm doesn’t want to hear it anymore, but I keep telling her I’m not a farm girl. Up in the morning to milk and back at it in the afternoon … some folks like that schedule, but it’s not for me. I’d rather scrub the kitchen from top to bottom than have to deal with the likes of that heifer.”

  “Sounds like you’re not cut out to be a country girl,” Haley said.

  “Ya. That’s not what my parents want to hear. A good Amish girl lives the life she was born to.”

  “We never had a milk cow, but I always thought that mooing sound they make sounds so sad.” Elsie climbed up on the bottom rung of the pillar-and-post fence and faced the cow. “Why so glum today?” she asked. “Don’t you know this is the day that the Lord has made?”

  Haley and Rachel chuckled over Elsie’s soft words. The cow turned one inquisitive eye toward her, intrigued.

  “Look at that, Elsie, you have another friend.” Rachel smiled. “The cows love you, just like everyone else.”

  Leaning against the fence, Haley basked in the sunshine and scanned the scattered group. Sunlight slanted over the red planking of the barn and its whitewashed trim. Her gaze landed on Dylan, and her heartbeat quickened slightly. She took a deep breath, noting that he sat on a hay bale, talking with Ruben and James.

  “Don’t look now, but our guys are over by the barn door.” Haley tried to observe without staring.

  Rachel turned around and held a hand to her forehead to block the sun as she scrutinized the congregation.

  Haley grabbed her sleeve playfully. “I said, don’t look!”

  “I’m trying to see who your beau is.” Rachel turned back to her, hands on her hips. “Dylan Monroe? The doctor is your beau?”

  “Well, that’s a long story. I would like him to be, but right now he just wants to be friends.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad. I might be in the same boat with James now. He doesn’t seem so happy to see me anymore, but then, he’s not so happy about anything these days.”

  “I know.” Haley cocked her head to one side, sympathetic to her friend’s feelings of rejection. “He’s still in a rough patch.”

  Elsie turned away from the fence, and let her gaze sweep casually across the farmyard. “Hmm. What do you think they’re talking about?”

  Rachel’s hands smoothed down her apron, fumbling over the pins. “If I know James, he’s talking about fertilizing the peach trees.”

  Haley chuckled. “I think they’re talking about how crazy they are about us. That we’re the most amazing women in the universe, and they can’t imagine living without us.”

  Elsie giggled, pressing a hand to her mouth. “Is that what they’re saying?”

  “Crazy about us?” Rachel frowned. “More likely they’re thinking we’re crazy. At least, that’s what James is thinking about me these days. He says I’m putting too much stock in my paintings. He doesn’t believe that anyone would want to pay for a picture of a ‘bunch of clothes blowing in the wind on the line.’ That’s how he sees my pictures.” She folded her arms. “That hurts.”

  They were interrupted when an older Amish woman called to Rachel. It was her mother, Betsy King, who asked her to come inside and help serve up the pie.

  “Save me a seat,” she said, heading inside.

  Turning back to Elsie, Haley found her friend staring across the farmyard, her dark eyes round and laden with sorrow. “Els, you look sadder than our friend the cow. What’s the matter?”

  “It’s Ruben.” Elsie lowered her voice. “He loves me. He hasn’t said the word yet, but I see it in his eyes. In the things he does, the way he tries to protect me.”

  Haley nodded, alarmed by her friend’s quiet intensity. “And you don’t love him?”

  “Oh, I do. I really do. Now that he’s gone from the shop, I think about him day and night. But I can’t ever marry him. I’m wasting his time, letting him think he’s courting me. It’s unfair to him. He deserves a good wife, a kind and loving woman who will give him children.”

  “Oh, Elsie, I know we’ve talked about your fears of passing on the EVC. I understand. But we all have weak genes and bad qualities that might be passed on to our children, and most people in the world trust it up to God and take that chance. It’s so rare to find someone you love … someone you really love.…” Haley’s voice cracked as tears flooded her eyes.

  “Haley?” Elsie stepped onto the middle rung of the fence to be eye to eye with her. “Liewi, please don’t cry for me. There’s nothing you can do to mend the hole in my life.”

  “I’m crying for myself.” Haley swiped at her eyes, facing the chewing cow so that no one would see her in tears. How embarrassing! “I’m sorry. It’s so selfish of me, but I’m thinking of Dylan and me. I love him, Els. I really do, but there’s nothing I can do to win his heart.”

  “That’s not selfish. That’s your heart crying out for love,” Elsie said tenderly.

  “And I do love him. But you heard him at the session, talking about his wife and daughter. He’s still grieving, still so much in love. I know he cares about me, and we’re a great team, but I can’t compete with a ghost. His love is just something in life that I can’t have and … and it’s killing me.”

  A mournful sigh came from Elsie as they leaned into each other, both facing the pasture. Haley felt Elsie’s hand gently patting her back, such a swe
et gesture. She stared past the giant cow to the distant purple hills, ignoring the tears that slid down her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be disrespectful, falling apart at your church luncheon.”

  “It’s okay. Gott gives us our sorrows for a reason, and there’s no law against crying on a Sunday.”

  Haley sniffed. “My heart breaks every time he smiles. My pulse races every time he just looks at me.”

  “I know how that feels. When Ruben first came to the store, he was a good friend to me, but as the days went on my heart opened to him in every way. Like a flower blooming in the sun—that was me in the light of his love.”

  “But he loves you, Elsie! Let yourself love him back. You two can be together.”

  “No.” Elsie drew in a ragged breath. “I won’t do that to Ruben or to a child. Do you know I was born with a sixth finger on each hand? Surgeons removed them when I was a year old. I don’t remember that, but I do remember a later surgery, to fix my legs. There was pain when I was in the hospital, ya. But the true pain came from simply traveling to the hospital with my mother. We took a series of buses, starting at Lancaster, and some of the Englishers were cruel. They scared me. A midget, they called me. I was barely six years old. One man asked me if I escaped from the … the circus.” Elsie’s voice cracked, and she sniffed.

  Now it was Haley’s turn to rub her friend’s back and try to soothe. “I’m sorry. People can be so cruel.”

  “I’ve forgiven them … it’s all nearly forgotten, but for my vow to keep that pain for myself. I won’t be the one to burden a child with it. And as soon as Ruben understands that, I’m sure he’ll … he’ll move on.”

  “But look at how he loves you, Elsie.”

  “I know,” she said sadly. “I know, and my heart is breaking because I love him, too. But we are not meant to be together. In my heart, I know it’s not what Gott intends, so I must push him away.”

  Haley squeezed Elsie’s shoulder. “Are you sure about this? To be honest, it sounds to me like you’re making a mistake.”