A Simple Faith

by Rosalind Lauer

  “Gott makes no mistakes.” When Elsie turned to her, there was a glint of wisdom in her dark eyes. “I know it’s upsetting that Gott doesn’t make things work out the way we planned, but it’s also reassuring to know that whatever happens is meant to be. The way Gott planned it. If we can accept the events of our lives, then we are living Gott’s will. ‘Thy will be done.’ ”

  Recognizing the words from the “Our Father,” Haley nodded solemnly.

  Of course, she wanted God’s will to be done in her own life. She just wished it didn’t hurt quite so much.

  By the time it was their turn to eat, both Elsie and Haley had managed to recover from their intensely emotional moment and pull themselves together. Inside, they ran into Rachel’s family—and Haley was glad to have a chance to talk with Remy King, who seemed to glow with happiness.

  “I haven’t seen you since the auction,” Haley said.

  “Mm-hmm.” Remy’s smile was secretive, her green eyes glimmering with a hint of mischief. “We’ve been sticking close to home.”

  “Really? Is everything okay?”

  Remy looked over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “Umm, we Amish women don’t really discuss it in public but …” She leaned forward and squeezed Haley’s arm as she whispered, “Mary and I are pregnant.”

  Haley gripped Remy’s hand. “Congratulations. That is news.”

  “I used to think it would never happen for me. Meeting the love of my life and starting a family. But now … now I have this enormous, loving family in a community that cares. I feel so blessed.”

  “I’m so happy for you.” Haley smiled wistfully. Mary and Remy were in their twenties—her age.

  Her mother’s voice sounded in her mind, unbidden: If you’re going to have kids, you’d better get going.

  Well, it was sort of hard to get going when there wasn’t a willing husband in the picture.

  Being involved in the church service today, seeing the way these Amish families worshipped and worked together, Haley saw the importance of family. She definitely wanted children, but that would have to wait.

  Steeling herself against disappointment, she repeated Elsie’s advice: God makes no mistakes.

  Haley and Dylan were saying good-bye to their friends when a boy stopped in front of Dylan and tipped his black hat back. “Mister, can I have my slingshot back?”

  All eyes turned to Dylan, who pursed his lips.

  Normally stoic, Zed was fighting a grin. So much so that he had to turn away.

  Haley stepped in, enjoying the controversy. “Did this man take your slingshot?” she asked the boy, who, cute as a jack-o’-lantern, was missing two of his front teeth.

  The kid looked up at the other men, frowning at Ruben. “Don’t tell Dat.”

  “Don’t tell him what?” Ruben put his hands on his hips, standing his ground. “That you were fiddling with your slingshot during the prayers?”

  “It was actually during one of the hymns.” Dylan reached into his pants pocket and extracted a forked branch made into a slingshot with a piece of a rubber band. “And I borrowed it before anyone got hurt.” He bent down to be level with the kid. “What’s your name?”

  Ruben stepped forward and clamped a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “This is my brother Eli, and I can’t believe a little angel like this would have a toy at church.”

  Eli shrugged out of his brother’s grip. “It’s not a toy. You could use it for hunting.”

  Dylan held the slingshot out to Eli. “Promise me you won’t shoot anyone with this. Not your sister or your teacher or a crow scrounging for seeds in the snow.”

  Eli nodded. “We just try for rocks and cans on top of the fence.”

  “Good. You’d better keep it that way.”

  Eli snatched the slingshot and pivoted to make a quick exit.

  “And, Eli. Hold on.” Dylan dug in his other pocket. This time, he had a fistful of jacks and a small rubber ball. “Do me a favor and return these to your friend.”

  Eli turned back and cupped the jacks in his hand. “Simon said you would never give these back.”

  “I’m feeling generous after all those sermons. I didn’t understand a word, but I have to believe some saving grace soaked in.” Dylan grinned. “You’re welcome.”

  “Thank you!” Eli chirped, then ran off.

  Haley turned to him. “You are a character, Dr. Monroe. Were you going to leave with that poor boy’s slingshot in your pocket?”

  Ruben stepped in. “Believe me, Eli deserved to have it taken away.”

  “I planned to give it back,” Dylan said. “I just forgot about it.”

  “Um-hmm,” Haley teased.

  “I would never steal. Especially from a child.” Dylan patted down his pockets to make sure they were empty now. “But that was a very cool slingshot.”

  The group laughed as Dylan waved, and he and Haley started down the hill toward her car.

  46

  The next day, Elsie was washing the windows on the outside of the shop, straining to reach from the top of the stepladder, when a breeze made the strings of her kapp flicker.

  A spring breeze. A cool wind, but no longer the biting tendrils of winter.

  She rubbed until the cloth squeaked against the glass, then climbed down the ladder. The glass was clean, but Ruben had done a better job getting the dirt all around the edges at the top.

  She missed him. He’d been a great worker and a good friend. He’d come to her rescue when she’d needed someone to hold her up, and now … now she didn’t know how she was going to stand without him.

  Folding up the ladder, she gazed up Main Street in the direction of Zook’s barn. Of course, she couldn’t see it from here, but it was reassuring to know he was there, just up the road a piece.

  A few customers came along, and she greeted them and brought the ladder inside.

  One lady wanted six caramel apples for her grandchildren. Her friend purchased a birdhouse, which would have been easier to wrap with Ruben’s help.

  Please, bring him back to me, she prayed silently. Then she wondered if that was selfish. She wanted him by her side, but she could not be his girl. Was that selfish?

  The bells at the door jangled, and Preacher Dave came in with a fat folded afghan in his arms.

  “Lydia asked me to bring you this,” he said. “She’s been working on it steadily for two weeks.”

  “This is coming in the nick of time.” Elsie put the blanket on the counter to admire the variegated edges of blue, green, and yellow wool. “I only have one left in the store, and folks will like these cheerful colors for spring.”

  “Good.” Dave nodded, but instead of saying good-bye, he took his hat off and turned it in his hands. “And I wanted to talk with you, Elsie.”

  She lifted her chin with a somber smile, thinking he was going to counsel her about grieving for her dat.

  “This could be putting the cart before the horse, ’cause I know you’re not baptized, but here goes. I hear you’ve decided that you’re never getting married, because you don’t want to have children. Is that so?”

  Stumped, Elsie felt her mouth drop open. Who had told the preacher of her plan? Her private, innermost fears and plans …

  Ruben.

  Something akin to disappointment trembled through her as she fumbled for words. “It’s not that I don’t want to have children,” she said quietly. “I don’t want to have children because they might be born like me, with EVC. Little people.”

  “I see.” Dave squinted, following every word. “And why is that a problem? Do you not feel that Gott loves you because you’re shorter than most folk?”

  “I know the Heavenly Father loves me. It’s the people in the world who stare and say hurtful things. Some of the Englishers, they’re very cruel toward anyone who looks different.” She closed her eyes against the pain of the past, not wanting to dredge up the stories that brought her to tears. “Hurtful. It’s not something any parent would wish on their little ones. And
I can’t consider having a child who will face that pain.”

  “Hmm.” Dave’s blue eyes sparkled with concern. “It would be nice if we could all protect our children from harm, don’t you think?”

  Elsie nodded.

  “But we can’t do that.” Dave’s blue eyes glimmered with understanding. “A toddler learning to walk will fall and get bruises. It can’t be helped. So your children, if they are born to be small, with EVC, they must learn to fall and get up on their own.”

  Elsie shook her head. “There won’t be any little ones for me, Dave. It’s not Gott’s will for me.”

  “It is if you’re going to live Amish.” The lines in his forehead told her that he was serious. This was not something that the clergy would make an exception on.

  Her throat felt tight—too thick to swallow.

  “Don’t be steered wrong,” the preacher went on. “If you’re going to live Plain, this is not your choice to make. Amish folk marry and have children. We don’t pick and choose our future like an Englisher person walking down the line at a salad bar.”

  “I don’t mean to be picky.”

  “You and I know that, Elsie. But all the best intentions melt away to nothing when the rules are broken.”

  “But I’m not going to break any rules. I’m hoping to get baptized in the fall, and I won’t break any rules.” She would simply not marry. Although marriage was encouraged, no one ever shunned a woman when she became an old maid.

  Just then the bells jangled and in came a gaggle of customers. What poor timing.

  Dave put his hat back on his head. “Well. You’ve got some time to think on it. The classes for baptism start in May, if that’s what you choose.”

  How could Ruben betray her like this? To have to face one of the ministers, not being prepared at all. She probably hadn’t explained herself well, but her chance was lost.

  She thanked Dave for bringing in the crocheted blanket and attended to her customers, trying to tamp down the worries that kept rising up to taunt her. The disapproval of the ministers cast a dark shadow over a person in the community. How could Ruben do this to her?

  “Since we met last week, one mystery has been solved for me,” Graciana told the group the next day at their regular meeting in the back room of the library.

  Elsie kept her eyes on the older woman, refusing to look across the table at Ruben, no matter how appealing his sparkling blue eyes and wide, friendly smile. Her mind was still reeling from Dave’s unexpected visit yesterday, and despite her sister Emma’s attempts to calm her, anger still simmered inside her.

  If I were a teapot, I’d be whistling now, loud and shrill.

  She bit her lip, trying to focus on what Graciana was saying.

  “I got this letter from Cross College. It’s in Lancaster.” Graciana unfolded a crisp white sheet of paper. “It’s from a dean of admissions, and she was writing to thank my daughter for attending the interview that day. This letter says my Clara is accepted to Cross College with a scholarship … and I didn’t even know she applied.”

  “So she drove in to Lancaster for a college interview?” Dylan’s voice was firm and steady. Always calm, that Dylan.

  “That was it. After the letter came, I did some snooping in Clara’s journals. After the accident, I wasn’t able to look. It felt wrong, and I … I just couldn’t do it. But my sister-in-law and niece sat down with me, and we read things aloud when they seemed important.” Graciana closed her eyes and sniffed back tears. “We laughed and we cried. And by the time we were finished, I remembered my Clara. I remembered her good qualities, like you said, Dr. Monroe.” She reached into the fat envelope and removed a photograph. “This is my Clara.”

  Elsie bit back a pang of sadness at the sight of the young girl who had died back in January. Her sparkling eyes, her happy smile.

  “She was a beautiful girl,” Haley said.

  Zed nodded. “She had your eyes, Graciana.”

  The older woman nodded, sucking in her lips to keep from crying. “I also brought this.” She took a round stuffed animal from her purse and held it in front of her for everyone to see. “Pooh Bear. She used to read to him when she was a little girl. Before she could even read, she would sit with a book on her lap and tell him a story. And she slept with him in her bed every night. Even as a teenager. She said he brought her comfort.”

  Elsie thought of her little sister and her threadbare doll. Beth never would settle in until her dolly was beside her. Sometimes, when she said her prayers out loud before bed, Beth asked Gott to bless her dolly, as if she were one of the family.

  “That’s just like my sister Beth with her dolly,” Elsie said, giving voice to her thoughts. “Some things are the same, Amish or Englisher.”

  Graciana gave Elsie’s hand a trembling squeeze as Dylan called for a break.

  “Oh.” The older woman let out a breath as the others at the table rose and stretched. “This is so difficult to talk about. But it feels good, too.”

  Elsie nodded. Now that everyone was relaxing, her worries came rushing back like a cold wind.

  “You’re quiet today,” Graciana told Elsie.

  Elsie darted a heated glance at Ruben, who was pouring coffee as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “Something’s weighing on my mind. I’m sorry. It’s got my head spinning so that it’s hard to think of anything else.”

  “Are you going to share it with the group?” Graciana asked, her voice quiet with sympathy.

  Elsie sucked in a breath. “Oh, no.” The thought of even more people knowing her most private pain cut her deep inside.

  She scooted her chair back from the table. “Excuse me,” she told Graciana, not wanting to be rude. She admired the woman and wanted to hear more about Clara, but suddenly the air in the conference room was thick with regret, the walls much too close. She was already at the door when Ruben called her name.

  When she turned back for a quick look, tears stung her eyes.

  Oh, no. Don’t cry in front of everyone.

  She didn’t want to upset the people here, folks who cared about her. It was best to leave.

  Outside the cool air did little to ease the warm flush of her skin. She was in the parking lot when she heard the footsteps behind her, followed by his voice.

  “Elsie? Are you leaving so soon?”

  Caught, she braced herself and turned to him … his glimmering blue eyes, warm with concern, the lines over his brows that she longed to trace with her fingertips.

  Oh, why did she love him so, after all this? The betrayal. The reality that they could not be together. Why did her heart yearn for his kisses when her head knew that she must keep him at arm’s length?

  “I can’t stay.” Her lower lip quivered, revealing her sorrow. “I need to go.”

  “What is it, Elsie? Are you sick?” He moved closer, holding a cup out to her. “I poured you some coffee, and when I turned around, you were flying out the door.”

  She pressed her balled-up fists to her belly. “I’m sick with worry about what you told Preacher Dave about me. Do you know that I’m in trouble now?”

  His face went pale as his smile slid away. “But … you’re not truly in trouble. You’re not baptized yet. You’re in your rumspringa, and just because you’re thinking—”

  “Dave came to see me. He wanted to set things right.” She winced, swallowing over the knot in her throat. “Those things I told you, about not having children? That was personal, Ruben. My own private thoughts. How could you go and tell a minister everything?”

  “I didn’t mean to. It wasn’t like I planned it. You know Dave is my uncle, and we talk all the time. He can tell when something’s on my mind. He asked a few questions and the story spilled out.”

  “But don’t you understand? It’s spilled milk. Once it’s out of the pitcher, there’s no putting it back in.”

  Ruben frowned. He seemed to notice the cups of hot coffee in his hands. In one motion he pitched the hot liquid from both of them in
to the melting snow at the side of the road. He stacked the cups and looked down at them, his face shadowed with regret. “I never meant to hurt you, Elsie. You’ve got to believe that. I told Dave what was on my mind because I couldn’t stop thinking about you … about us. No matter what you say, I know we’re meant to be together.”

  She shook her head. “I wish it were so.”

  “It’s the truth. You’re one of the few people in all the community who know me—the real me. You aren’t put off by the way I look. By my big size or the limping. And I’ve gotten to know you, too, Elsie. And I have to say you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known. Maybe even more beautiful because you don’t think of yourself that way.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. How could he say these things—to think she was pretty when she had spent a lifetime trying to hide her ugly teeth. Born bowlegged, with six fingers on each hand. “I have been called a circus freak, Ruben. I know that the Almighty created me. My family has always loved me and my community has supported me. But I was always sure the goodwill ended there. I never expected to meet a man who truly loved me.”

  “But I do,” Ruben said softly. “I love the small hands that have organized the Country Store into a marketplace that helps Amish folk sell their crafts. I love the voice that offers words of encouragement to everyone. I love the way you bring sunshine into a room with your smile and your bright enthusiasm.”

  Elsie blinked back tears. I love you, too, she wanted to whisper. She wanted to call it from the highest hilltop … but she couldn’t. It would be wrong to promise something that was not meant to be.

  “If you look different from other folks, that’s only because Gott changed the mold for you,” Ruben went on. “That’s what my mamm used to say, after I got scarred from the accident. Lots of folks fit the mold. It’s a special few that Gott stepped in and crafted by hand.”

  Elsie bent her head down, unable to look at him anymore. He was kind and loving, and he deserved to find a girl who could be a good wife to him. “You are a good man, Ruben.” She would always love him, but right now, the loving thing to do was let him go.