The Hope Jar

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  “Sorry, Sis, but I told Mary Ruth I’d be there. I had no idea you were making fried chicken.” He moved back across the room and gave her shoulder a light tap. “I’m sure our brothers will enjoy the tasty meat, and whatever else you’re making to go with it. I’ll have to settle for leftovers tomorrow—if there are any, that is. You know I like fried chicken cold, just as well as when it’s hot.”

  Nodding, Amy lifted her shoulders. “Okay, but don’t blame me if Abe eats all the hinkel. Fried chicken’s his favorite meal too.”

  Ezekiel snickered. “That eight-year-old brother of ours is a growing boy, and he likes a good many foods. Bet he could eat a whole cow in one sitting.”

  Amy lifted her gaze to the ceiling, then waved her hand at him. “Go on with you now, and tell Mary Ruth and Willis I said hello.”

  “Will do.” Ezekiel went out the door, calling, “See you later, Sister.” First, he needed to stop at the greenhouse to pick out a plant for Sara, and then he’d hitch up Big Red and be on his way.

  “Happy birthday, Sara.” Lenore smiled when she entered the house and handed Michelle a small box wrapped in pink tissue paper.

  Embarrassed, Michelle felt warmth flood her face. She hardly knew what to say. It had been a long time since anyone cared enough to give her a birthday present. But of course, the gift Lenore brought really wasn’t meant for her. This pretend cousin thought she was giving Sara Murray a birthday present.

  Michelle took the gift and managed to murmur her thanks. “You didn’t need to bring me anything though.”

  “I wanted to. Besides, it’s a privilege for me to help celebrate my new cousin’s birthday.” Lenore’s sincerity showed in her pretty hazel eyes.

  Michelle gazed at the package. “Should I open it now or wait till after we’ve eaten supper?”

  “Why don’t you wait?” Mary Ruth suggested, joining the girls in the living room. “Supper’s almost ready, and we’ll eat as soon as Ezekiel gets here.”

  Ezekiel?” Michelle tipped her head.

  “Yes, dear one.” Mary Ruth looked at Michelle affectionately. “He’s the young man who brought the honey today.” She glanced at Lenore. “Since you and Ezekiel are friends, I thought it would be nice if he joined us. Oh, and I wanted him to get to know Sara too,” she quickly added.

  Michelle didn’t know who was more surprised at this—she or Lenore, whose forehead had wrinkled. I wonder if my pretend cousin doesn’t care much for Ezekiel. Truthfully, Michelle’s brief encounter with him today hadn’t impressed her. Of course with him seeing her face-down in the mud, he probably didn’t think much of her either.

  Mary Ruth gestured to the sofa. “While we’re waiting for Willis to get out of the shower and Ezekiel to arrive, why don’t you two take a seat so you can visit?” She turned toward the kitchen door.

  “Aren’t you going to join us?” Michelle asked. She didn’t feel comfortable being left alone with someone she barely knew. What was there for them to talk about?

  “I still have a few things left to do in the kitchen,” Mary Ruth replied.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” Lenore was quick to offer.

  Mary Ruth shook her head. “Just relax and enjoy yourselves. I’ll let you know if I need help with anything.” Smiling cheerfully, she ambled out of the room.

  Michelle took a seat on the couch, and Lenore did the same. “Aren’t you afraid to drive a horse and buggy all by yourself?” Michelle asked, for lack of anything better to say.

  “No, I’m used to it and have driven one for a good many years now. When I’m not teaching, I like to help out by running errands for my mother and sometimes my dad. It’s a help, especially to Mom if she’s busy with something at home,” Lenore added.

  “So how far is it from your home in Paradise to here? That’s where Mary Ruth—I mean Grandma—said you live, right?” Michelle’s fingers, toes, and every part of her body tingled. She’d been so afraid she would trip up and say something wrong, and sure enough, she’d done it. I have got to remember to call the Lapps Grandma and Grandpa. If I’m not careful, sooner or later, someone will catch on that I’m an imposter. She twirled the ends of her hair around her fingers and tried to relax. Of course, my calling Mary Ruth by her first name might not seem so strange to Lenore. After all, she thinks I’ve just recently learned that the Lapps are my grandparents. So it’s only natural that I wouldn’t think of them as my relatives yet.

  Lenore nodded. “Our home is only about nine miles from here.”

  “Oh, I see.” Michelle wasn’t sure what else to talk about, but Lenore had some questions of her own. “How do you like it here in Lancaster County? Are you getting used to life on the farm?”

  “Well, I haven’t been here long enough to decide. But so far it seems to be going well.” Michelle gave her tingling earlobe a tug. “I am curious about one thing though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “My only encounter with any Amish has been the few I have met since coming here. I was wondering if other Amish communities in different parts of the country were the same as in Lancaster County.”

  Lenore shook her head. “Various areas are definitely different, although many of the differences are subtle.”

  “Such as?” Michelle kept her focus on Lenore, eager to hear her response.

  “There are different styles for the men’s hats and prayer coverings for the women. Also, the length and color choices of Amish women’s dresses can vary. Even the types of suspenders the men wear can be different.”

  “Interesting.” Michelle shifted her position on the couch. “Is that all?”

  “No. In Lancaster County we ride scooters, but in other places—like certain Amish communities in Indiana, Illinois, and Ohio—they are allowed to ride bicycles.”

  “Why is that?”

  Lenore shrugged. “It’s whatever the church leaders decide. You see, some groups of Amish are allowed to use cell phones, especially if they are business owners, but others can’t have a phone at all. Of if they do, it must be kept in a phone shed or inside the barn, but it must be outside the home.”

  “Lots of rules then, huh?”

  “Yes, but they all serve a purpose. In some areas the farmers are allowed to have a tractor, but some cannot. Oh, and some Amish can have rubber tires, while others can only have iron wheels.”

  “What about indoor plumbing? Do most Amish homes have hot and cold running water in the house like my grandparents do here?” The more Michelle learned, the more interested she became. The Amish were truly a fascinating group of people.

  “Most Amish do have indoor plumbing these days,” Lenore replied, “but there are still some in the plainer, more conservative districts that use outhouses.”

  Michelle wrinkled her nose. “Eww … Don’t think I could ever get used to that.”

  As quickly as the subject of church rules and differences in communities had been brought up, Lenore changed the subject. “I never got to meet your mother, but my dad talked about her all the time. He really misses his sister and has talked about their childhood a lot.”

  All Michelle could do was smile. She was at a loss for words.

  Lenore giggled. “I have two brothers, and I’m close to both of them, so I can only imagine how hard it would be if one of them ran off and we never saw him again.”

  Michelle frowned. This conversation had turned too negative. But before she could think of anything else to say, Lenore spoke again.

  “From the things Dad has said, it seems as though he and Aunt Rhoda had a fun childhood.”

  Michelle held her breath. She thought sure Lenore would say more about the Lapps’ daughter, and how she left home without a trace, but fortunately, the conversation changed again.

  “How long do you plan on staying here with our grandparents?”

  Michelle released her breath and answered carefully. “I’m not sure. I’d like to stay through the summer, but it all depends.”

  “Grandpa and Grandma
would like that.” Lenore smiled. “They’d probably be happy if you stayed with them indefinitely.”

  Michelle squirmed, feeling more uncomfortable by the minute. If they knew who I was they’d be glad to see me go. She cleared her throat and asked a question, hoping to calm herself. “What’s it like teaching Amish children?” she asked, changing the subject. “Did you have to go to college and get a degree in order to teach?”

  “Oh no.” Lenore shook her head. “I graduated eighth grade, like all other Amish scholars, but I didn’t get any other schooling, except learning how to work at my dad’s general store. You see, when an Amish child graduates eighth grade, they most always learn a trade. Or at the very least, they’ll end up working in a relative’s place of business.”

  “Really? How come?” Michelle didn’t see how anyone could be a schoolteacher without getting a degree. And the thought of only going through the eighth grade instead of graduating from high school seemed strange to her.

  “We Amish have always believed that too much education can make a person proud. To us, an eighth-grade education is sufficient.” Lenore shifted her position. “However, once a student graduates, they further their education by training as apprentices for their future jobs. In my case, I had excelled when I was attending school, and it pleased me when the members of our Amish community approved me as a teacher.” Lenore’s upturned face radiated the joy she obviously felt because of being a schoolteacher.

  “One thing you might find interesting about our Amish schools is that we have a special Christmas program every year, where the scholars get to share poems, recitations, and songs for their families. The children will often exchange gifts with others in their class.” Lenore’s face brightened even more. “It’s a joyous occasion, and one that both teacher and students look forward to during the Christmas season.”

  Michelle picked at a hangnail that had made an appearance this morning shortly after she’d helped Mary Ruth do the dishes. “That’s all very interesting, Lenore. Thanks for explaining.”

  Her pretend cousin gave a nod. “If you have any other questions, let me know. I’d be happy to answer them for you.”

  “Okay, I will.” In some ways, Michelle wished she’d been able to end her education after the eighth grade. But if she had, it would have been a lot harder to get a job—even one waiting tables or taking orders at a coffee shop. A lot of employers wanted their employees to have at least a high school degree. Of course with the Amish, it was different, since most places of business where Amish people worked hired them based on their ability to do the job well. This was something else Michelle had learned by watching the reality show. It was one of few things they’d mentioned that actually made sense. And since Lenore had just said Amish young people learned some kind of a trade after they finished their formal education, Michelle figured that part of the segment she’d seen on TV must be true.

  At the sound of a horse and buggy, Michelle turned her head. Oh great, that must be Ezekiel. I can’t believe Mary Ruth invited him to join us for supper.

  When Ezekiel knocked on the door, he was greeted by Willis, whose damp hair gave evidence that he’d recently taken a shower.

  “Evening, Son. Glad ya could join us tonight.” Willis swiped at a drip of water rolling down his forehead.

  Ezekiel grinned and sniffed the air. “Me too. Something smells mighty good in here.”

  “That would be my fraa’s special pasta sauce. Spaghetti’s one of Sara’s favorite meals, so that’s what Mary Ruth is fixin’ tonight.” Willis gestured to the first room off the hall. “Lenore’s here. Let’s join her and Sara in the living room while we wait for Mary Ruth to call us for supper.”

  When Ezekiel entered the living room, he found Sara and Lenore sitting on the sofa beside each other. Feeling a bit awkward, he stepped forward and handed Sara a purple African violet. “Happy birthday.”

  Her eyes widened a bit, and her fingers trembled slightly as she reached out to accept his gift. “It’s beautiful, thank you. I certainly wasn’t expecting a gift from you.” Sara looked at Lenore. “Or you either.”

  Lenore smiled. “Everyone should get a present on their birthday.”

  Mary Ruth entered the room, and seeing Ezekiel, she said, “I’m glad you’re here. We can eat our supper now.”

  “Look what Ezekiel brought for Sara.” Willis pointed to the plant Sara held.

  Mary Ruth leaned in closer and gave an approving nod.

  Ezekiel handed Sara something else. “Here is a small saucer you can put under the African violet. There are holes in the bottom of the pot it’s planted in, and instead of waterin’ it from the top, like you’d do for most other potted plants, you’ll need to water this one from the bottom.”

  “Okay.” Sara’s uncertain tone let him know she was a bit confused. “How does that help the plant?”

  “After you put the water in the saucer, it will get drawn up into the dirt through the holes at the bottom, and the roots will grow downward, toward the moisture.”

  She nodded. “Thanks, I didn’t know that.”

  “Once your plant gets established and it grows a little bigger, you can even take one of the leaves and put it in water.”

  Her nose twitched as she stared at the plant. “How come?”

  “After some time passes, you’ll eventually see tiny little roots coming out of the bottom of the violet’s leaf,” Mary Ruth said before Ezekiel could respond. “Once the roots grow more, you can plant the leaf, and it will start a new African violet.”

  Ezekiel bobbed his head. “We do that in the greenhouse to get new plants started.”

  Sara smiled. “That’s amazing.”

  “Years ago, when the African violet my mother gave me got too big, I used to take leaves from it to start new plants,” Mary Ruth continued. “Once they began to grow, the smaller plants made for nice gifts.”

  “She still has her mother’s African violet. It’s in our room, sitting by the window,” Willis added.

  “Since Sara has already received one gift, would it be all right if she opened mine now? It shouldn’t take long.” Lenore gestured to the present sitting on the coffee table.

  “Go right ahead, Sara. Supper can wait a few more minutes.”

  Sara set the African violet on the table and picked up Lenore’s gift. Her fingers trembled once more as she tore the paper off and opened the lid on the box.

  Ezekiel wondered why she seemed so nervous. Surely she was used to receiving gifts on her birthday. But maybe not from people she barely knew. He watched with interest as she removed three rubber stamps, two ink pads, and some cardstock. Sara stared at the items like she’d never seen anything like them before.

  “Have you ever done any stamping and card making?” Lenore asked.

  Sara shook her head.

  “Well, that’s okay. I’ll teach you. It’ll give us something fun to do as we get to know each other better.”

  “Thank you.” Sara pressed her fingers against her smiling lips. “This has been the best birthday ever.”

  “Well, it’s not over yet.” Mary Ruth moved toward the dining room. “We have our meal to eat, and then Willis and I have a gift for you too.”

  Willis nodded. “After that, there will be kuche and eis raaham.”

  “What is that?” Sara rose to her feet.

  “It means, ‘cake and ice cream,’ ” Ezekiel announced.

  “Oh, okay.” She looked up at him with a hopeful expression. “In addition to learning more things about the Amish way of life, I hope I can learn a few Pennsylvania Dutch words while I’m here visiting.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll teach you whatever you want to know.” Mary Ruth put one arm around Sara’s waist and the other arm around Lenore’s. It didn’t take a genius to see how happy she was to have both of her granddaughters visiting.

  Since he wasn’t part of their family, Ezekiel almost felt like a fifth wheel on a buggy. But he’d always felt welcome in this home. Willis and Mar
y Ruth treated him kindly—almost like he was part of their family. Sometimes, he felt more comfortable here than he did at home, where his folks—especially Dad—were often critical of him.

  Well tonight he wasn’t going to think about that. He planned to enjoy a good meal, relax, and have a nice time. He was curious though about what gift the Lapps would give Sara after supper. From the gleam in Mary Ruth and Willis’s eyes, he had a feeling it was something special.

  Chapter 9

  This spaghetti is scrumptious, Mary—I mean Grandma.” Michelle blotted her lips with a cloth napkin. Mary Ruth had set a lovely table tonight, using her best china dishes and fancy glassware. Apparently some things this Amish family owned weren’t so plain. “My only complaint about the food is that I ate too much.” Mary Ruth smiled. “I’m glad you like it. While pasta dishes aren’t traditional Pennsylvania Dutch meals, in this house we do enjoy spaghetti, pizza, and lasagna sometimes.”

  Willis bobbed his head. “Anything my fraa cooks is appeditlich.” He winked at Michelle. “That means ‘delicious.’ ”

  “Appeditlich,” Michelle repeated. “Jah, the meal is appeditlich.”

  Everyone nodded, even Mary Ruth. Michelle was certain the woman wasn’t bragging. She simply enjoyed eating the spaghetti.

  Michelle patted her stomach. “If I keep eating all this good home-cooked food, I’ll get fat.”

  Willis looked at her over the top of his glasses. “A slender girl like you could probably eat twice as much as you did this evening and never gain a pound. I doubt you’ll ever be fett.” He winked. “That word means ‘fat.’ ”

  Michelle smiled. It had been a long time since she’d eaten food this good or with such nice people. Most of her meals since she’d been out on her own either came out of a can or a box that needed to be heated in the microwave.

  Michelle glanced across the table, where Ezekiel sat next to Lenore. Had he been seated there because they were a couple? Not that it’s any of my business. She looked away. While I’m staying here, maybe I should ask Mary Ruth to teach me how to make some of her tasty recipes. I need to have something positive to take away with me when I leave—something besides the memories.