The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club - 02 - The Tattered Quilt

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  She headed back to her house, as a gust of wind blew a cluster of fallen leaves across the grass. She grabbed hold of her hat, fearing it would be blown away. Fall was definitely here, and soon the frigid days of winter would swoop in. When the weather got too cold, it would put an end to her walks, so she’d need to find something else to occupy her time.

  Selma stopped at the end of her driveway to check for mail. Yesterday was her birthday, and she hadn’t received a single card. Not even from Cora. Of course Selma doubted that she’d hear from her daughter again, yet she kept hoping for a phone call, or at least a letter or card. Maybe it was just as well. If Cora was still part of her life, they’d probably argue all the time. The girl was stubborn and wouldn’t listen to anything Selma said. Despite the lack of a close relationship and years that had passed since then, there were moments like this when Selma missed having her daughter around. Of course, she’d never admitted that to anyone, or even talked about Cora. As far as Selma’s few friends and neighbors were concerned, she lived alone and had no family.

  Shaking her troubling thoughts aside, Selma stepped onto her porch. She was about to open the door, when Jan ambled into the yard and hollered, “Can I talk to you a minute, Selma?”

  Selma slowly nodded. She wasn’t in the mood to talk to Jan about anything right now—she just wanted to get into the house and fix herself a bowl of soup for lunch.

  “What’d you want to talk to me about?” she asked when Jan joined her on the porch.

  “Came to give you this.” Jan handed Selma an envelope.

  Her heart fluttered. Could it be a belated birthday card? Did Jan know that yesterday was her birthday? But how could he know? She’d never mentioned it to him.

  With trembling fingers Selma tore the envelope open. What she discovered inside was not a birthday card at all. It was a piece of paper with a woman’s name and address written on it.

  “Who’s Emma Miller, and why are you giving me this?” Selma asked, looking up at Jan through squinted eyes.

  “She’s the Amish lady I took some quilting classes from a year and a half ago. Only her name was Emma Yoder then. She’s married to Lamar Miller now, and they—”

  “What’s this have to do with me?” Selma couldn’t keep the irritation she felt out of her voice. Why was Jan wasting her time? Didn’t he realize she had better things to do than stand on the porch and shiver while she stared at a piece of paper with an address of a woman she’d never met?

  “I signed you up for Emma’s next class.” Jan grinned and pointed to the envelope. “So, what do you think about that?”

  She pursed her thin lips. “Why would you think I’d want to take a quilting class? I’ve never said I did, you know.”

  He lifted his broad shoulders in a brief shrug. “Just thought it might be something you’d enjoy—especially since winter will be here soon, and your work in the yard will come to an end.”

  Selma stared at the envelope a few seconds more, trying to piece things together. “How much do the quilting lessons cost?”

  Jan flapped his big calloused hand. “No need to worry about that. I’ve got it covered.”

  “You—you paid for my spot in the class?” she sputtered.

  He nodded.

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Like I said, I thought it’d be something you’d enjoy. The class starts next Saturday. Will you be free to go?”

  Selma tapped her chin, thoughtfully mulling things over. “I believe so.”

  Jan brought his hands together in a clap so loud it caused Selma to jump. “Great! I’m sure you’ll enjoy the class as much as I did. Probably more, since you’re a woman who likes nice things.”

  Selma couldn’t deny it. Her flower garden was proof enough. Besides, she’d always prided herself on being able to sew, although she’d never made a quilt before. I’m sure it can’t be that hard, she thought. I’ll bet my quilt will turn out better than anyone else’s in the class.

  While Jan’s gift wasn’t actually a birthday present, it was the best thing that had happened to Selma all week. “Thank you, Jan,” she said with a smile she hoped looked sincere. “I think I might enjoy that class, and it’ll give me something to look forward to.”

  Elkhart, Indiana

  As Paul Ramirez left his second-grade classroom that afternoon, he thought about the phone call he’d received from his sister-in-law, Carmen, last night. He’d been pleased when she’d said she was in town and wanted to come by Paul’s place this evening to visit him and his two-year-old daughter, Sophia. That in itself was a surprise, since things had become strained between Paul and Carmen after Paul’s wife died almost two years ago. Paul figured the reason Carmen had only visited once since then was because she hadn’t completely forgiven him for not being able to prevent the accident that took Lorinda’s life. The other thing that had taken Paul by surprise when Carmen called was that she’d asked if he still visited with the Amish woman who’d taught him how to quilt.

  “Yes, I do,” Paul had said. “I stop by to see Emma and her husband, Lamar, as often as I can.”

  There’d been a pause, and then Carmen said, “Could I meet her? I mean, would you be willing to introduce me to Emma?”

  Paul had said yes, but he was confused by Carmen’s request. Why would she be interested in meeting Emma? And how long would she be in the area? He wished now that he’d thought to ask. Well, she’d be coming by this evening, and he could ask Carmen for details then.

  As Paul slid into the driver’s seat of his minivan, his thoughts went to Sophia. It would be good for his little girl to spend some time with her aunt. Paul was grateful that his folks as well as his sister, Maria, and her family lived close by. Everyone, including Maria’s three girls, doted on Sophia, and of course she loved all the attention. When Lorinda died, it had been difficult for Paul to cope, but with the help of his family and friends, he’d learned to deal with the pain of losing his beloved wife. Of course attending Emma’s quilting classes and sharing his feelings with Emma and the other students had been a big help, too.

  As Paul drove closer to the Loving Hands Daycare Center, where he dropped Sophia off each morning, he couldn’t believe how quickly the leaves had turned color and fallen from the trees lining the street. The only leaves left were from some of the oaks.

  Taking his foot off the gas pedal in time to let a squirrel run across the road, he smiled when he noticed that the bushy-tailed critter had a good-sized walnut in its mouth.

  Paul pulled into the daycare parking lot and turned off the engine. He was glad things had worked out for Sophia at the daycare. She loved going there, and it made life easier knowing his little girl was content during the day while he taught his second-graders. It hadn’t always been that way. Just a year ago, Sophia had cried whenever Paul dropped her off. Since then, she’d become more settled and content being with some of the other children. That eased Paul’s guilt for having to leave her each day while he earned a living. If Lorinda were still alive, Sophia would have been home with her mother all day.

  Switching his thoughts once more, Paul reflected again on his phone call from Carmen. Maybe he’d take her to meet Emma Saturday morning.

  Shipshewana

  “I hope you won’t be disappointed, but it looks like we won’t be making a trip to Florida this fall after all,” Emma said to Lamar as he sat in the living room, reading the latest issue of The Budget.

  He looked up and blinked a couple of times. “Why’s that?”

  Emma pointed to the sheet of paper she held. “I already have two people signed up for my quilting class, and I have a feeling there will soon be others.” She took a seat beside him on the sofa. “I hope you’ll be able to help me with the classes again. I’m sure the students would be interested in seeing some of the quilts you’ve designed, not to mention gaining from your knowledge of quilts.”

  “I have to admit I’m a little disappointed that we won’t be making any trips in the near future. On
the other hand, I look forward to seeing who God will send our way.” Lamar reached for Emma’s hand and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “Of course you can count on me to help with the classes.”

  “Danki, Lamar. I always appreciate your help and input in the classes.”

  “Well now,” he said, rising to his feet, “if there’s gonna be another class starting next week, then I’d better look through some of my quilts and decide which ones to display in your quilting room.”

  As Lamar left the room, Emma leaned her head against the sofa cushion and closed her eyes. Heavenly Father, she silently prayed, I don’t know the two women who’ll be coming to my class on Saturday, nor do I know who else may sign up. But as with all the other students who’ve come here before, I pray that I can teach them more than just how to quilt.

  CHAPTER 4

  Do we have everything we need for class?” Emma asked Lamar as she paced back and forth in the spacious room she used for quilting. Lamar didn’t know why, but she seemed a bit nervous today. It was silly, really, since she’d taught several classes since that first one a year and a half ago.

  In his usual calm manner, Lamar gave Emma’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Now try to relax. I’m sure everything will go as well with this class as it has with the others.”

  Emma sighed. “I hope so.”

  Lamar motioned to the cup of chamomile tea Emma had placed on the table. “Why don’t you finish that before your students arrive? It might help settle your nerves.”

  Emma took a seat and picked up the cup. “All right, I’ll try to relax.”

  “How many people did you say are signed up for this class?” Lamar questioned.

  “As of yesterday, only three—two women and one man.”

  Lamar rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Seems like the classes are getting smaller. We had only five people for our last class. Maybe folks aren’t as interested in quilting as they used to be. Maybe it’s time for us to retire.”

  Emma set her cup down so hard that some of the tea splashed out. “Ach, Lamar, I’m not ready to do that. I enjoy teaching others to quilt, and it doesn’t matter how many people are in the class. Besides, the smaller classes allow me to give more one-on-one attention to each person.”

  Lamar sat quietly, then patted Emma’s shoulder and said, “You teach them quite well, I might add.”

  Emma smiled. “I think my students get even more from the class when you help me, Lamar.”

  Sure hope I won’t let you down, Lamar thought, staring at his stiff fingers. With the colder weather, his arthritis was acting up. It was one of the reasons he wanted to vacation in Florida—along with thinking it would be a nice break for both him and Emma. He’d purposely not told Emma about his pain and stiffness because he didn’t want her to worry or feel guilty about teaching another quilting class. He just hoped he could get through these next six weeks without letting on.

  “Are you certain your Amish friend won’t mind us dropping by unannounced?” Carmen asked as she climbed out of Paul’s minivan and spotted a large, white house at the end of the driveway.

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Paul said, stepping onto the porch. “Emma’s very hospitable, and Sophia and I have come by here many times when Emma didn’t expect us. We were always welcomed with open arms.”

  Carmen didn’t know why, but she felt a bit apprehensive. She’d conducted many interviews and never had a nervous stomach before—not even in her early days as a reporter. Today, however, she felt jittery.

  She glanced around the yard, and her gaze came to rest on a black, box-shaped buggy parked near the barn. I wonder how it would feel to ride in one of them, she mused. Carmen knew from the things she’d read that the horse and buggy were the Amish people’s primary mode of transportation.

  The ba-a-a of a goat drew Carmen’s attention to the other side of the yard, where a few goats frolicked in a pen. Nearby were several chickens pecking in the dirt, and just as Carmen and Paul stepped onto the porch, a fluffy white cat streaked across the yard, chasing a smaller orange-and-white cat.

  I can’t imagine what it would be like to live in this rustic-looking place. It’s a far cry from the fast pace of Los Angeles. It might be interesting to be here for a while, but I wonder how long it would take for me to become bored or restless with the solitude.

  Carmen stepped to one side as Paul knocked on the door. A short time later, an elderly Amish man with a long gray beard greeted them. His green eyes sparkled as he shook Paul’s hand. “It’s good to see you. It’s been awhile.”

  Paul grinned widely. “It’s good to see you, too, Lamar.” He motioned to Carmen. “This is my sister-in-law, Carmen Lopez. She’s visiting from California. Carmen, this is Emma’s husband, Lamar Miller.”

  Carmen offered the man her best smile, while shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Miller.”

  “Good to meet you, too, and please, call me Lamar.” He opened the door wider. “Come in and say hello to Emma. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you,” he said.

  “If you’re busy, we won’t stay long,” Paul was quick to say. “I just wanted you both to meet Carmen.”

  “We have a quilting class in an hour, but we can visit till then.” Lamar motioned them inside and led the way down the hall. They followed him into a spacious room filled with several sewing machines, an empty quilting frame, and a large table with four chairs on both sides. Several colorful quilts draped over wooden stands were scattered around the room, which was lit by a few overhead gas lanterns. A slightly plump woman wearing a long navy-blue dress and a white cap perched on her head was seated in front of one of the machines. She was so intent on her sewing project that she didn’t seem to notice when they came into the room.

  “Look who’s here,” Lamar said, placing his hands on the woman’s shoulders.

  She turned her head and smiled at Paul. “It’s so good to see you,” she said, rising from her seat. “Where’s that sweet little girl of yours?”

  Paul gave the woman a hug. “It’s always good to see you, Emma. Sophia is with my sister Maria, this morning.” He turned to Carmen and said, “This is Emma Miller. She’s the talented woman who taught me how to quilt. Emma, I’d like you to meet my sister-in-law, Carmen Lopez. She lives in Los Angeles, where she works at a newspaper.”

  Emma smiled as she greeted Carmen with a gentle handshake. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “I’m happy to meet you, too,” Carmen said sincerely. “I was interested when Paul told me you’d taught him how to quilt.”

  “And she’s an excellent teacher,” Paul interjected.

  Emma’s cheeks colored as she dipped her head slightly. “Thank you, Paul. I enjoy sewing, and it’s a pleasure for me to teach others how to quilt.” She looked up at her husband and smiled. “Now that Lamar’s helping me with the classes, people are learning even more.”

  “Lamar designed all these quilts,” Paul said, motioning to the ones on display.

  “They’re quite impressive.” Carmen moved to stand beside a quilt with muted shades of brown and green.

  “That one I call Pheasant Trail.” Lamar beamed. “It’s one of my favorites.”

  “I can see why.” Carmen leaned down to get a closer look. “The details in this quilt are amazing. I wish I could make something like that.”

  “Have you ever done any quilting?” Emma asked.

  Carmen shook her head. “No, but I know how to do some basic sewing. My mother made sure both of her daughters learned how to sew.” She glanced at Paul, but he was staring at the floor. Was he thinking about Lorinda and how much he still missed her? Well, Carmen missed her, too. She and Lorinda had been five years apart, but the age difference never mattered; they’d always been close.

  As if sensing Carmen’s discomfort, Emma touched her arm lightly and said, “Would you care to stay and be part of the class?”

  “Oh yes!” Carmen couldn’t believe her luck. If she was allowed to sit in on the class, she’d
have the perfect opportunity to ask questions about the Amish—maybe even find out some details concerning the young people’s time of running-around.

  Paul quirked an eyebrow as he looked at Carmen strangely. “You won’t learn much in just one class. It took me a full six weeks to be able to make a quilted wall hanging.”

  “How long will you be in the area, Carmen?” Emma asked.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess that will depend on how long my boss allows me to be gone.”

  “Emma’s class goes for six weeks, and that’s a long time to be away from work. Staying at a hotel, even an extended stay, like the one you’re at now, can be expensive,” Paul said before Emma could respond.

  “Could you stay in the area for six weeks, Carmen?” Emma questioned.

  “Yes, I think so. I’ll step outside and give my boss a call.” Carmen pulled her cell phone from her purse and scooted out the door.

  “Hey, Carmen. How’s it going there?” Carmen’s boss asked after answering her call.

  “Okay, Mr. Lawrence. I’m in Shipshewana, and…” Carmen paused and moistened her lips. “I was wondering…Would it be all right if I stayed here for six weeks?”

  “Six weeks! Why so long?”

  Carmen leaned against the porch railing. “I want to take a quilting class.”

  “Are you kidding me? I sent you there to get a story, not spend your time with a needle and thread.” Mr. Lawrence’s voice raised a few notches. “This is not a vacation, you know.”

  “I—I realize that, sir, but the quilting class is held in an Amish woman’s home, and I think if I can get acquainted with her, I might be able to find out what I want to know about rumschpringe.”