The Hope Jar

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  After Brad Fuller came to pick up Willis and Mary Ruth, Michelle headed for the barn. As she entered the building, she glanced at Bashful’s stall, where Mary Ruth had put her before Brad arrived.

  “Stupid horse,” she mumbled. “You shouldn’t have backed up unless I told you to. And you shoulda stopped when I said ‘whoa.’ ”

  Bashful whinnied, as though in response, and swished her long tail.

  “Bad horse. Bad.” Michelle shook her finger at the mare. “Shame on you for causing your owner to fall.”

  Bashful turned around and walked to the corner of her stall with her head hung low.

  “Good, you need to stand in the corner and think about what you did.” Michelle reprimanded the horse again, then paused and shook her head. “Look at me, talking to this horse as if she understands what I’m saying.” As much as Michelle would like to learn how to drive a horse and buggy, it wouldn’t be with this high-spirited horse.

  Since the Lapps would be gone for a while, Michelle remembered the jars, but first she checked on the puppies and transferred them to the cardboard box, kept nearby. After she put fresh paper in the whelping bed, Sadie got in and looked up at Michelle as if waiting for her to bring the puppies.

  Michelle snickered and, one by one, placed the pups inside the box with their mother. Sadie sniffed each one, and when they’d all been returned, the collie laid on her side, so the puppies could nurse.

  Michelle watched them feed a few minutes, then glanced over at the shelves where the antique jars were kept. After hauling the stepladder over, she climbed up and took down the blue jar. With the Lapps gone, this was a good opportunity to read more of the papers inside.

  She took a seat on the same bale of straw she’d sat on before, shook the jar to distribute the papers, and then removed the glass lid. After taking the paper nearest the top out, and unfolding it, she read out loud the words that had been written.

  “ ‘Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need’ Hebrews 4:16.”

  She sat quietly, rereading the Bible verse. Underneath it, in smaller print, a prayer had been written. “Lord, I am overwhelmed by my guilt. Please, have mercy on me.”

  Michelle looked up, gazing at the rafters above her head as she attempted to gather her thoughts. If Mary Ruth is the one who wrote these notes, then what did she have to feel guilty about? Could she have told a lie to someone? Broken some church rule? I wish I could come right out and ask her.

  Michelle lowered her head, focusing on the piece of paper again. Why do I keep thinking Mary Ruth wrote the notes? It could have been Willis, or someone else. For all I know, these messages could have even been written by more than one person. She wasn’t sure why, but Michelle felt a compelling need to know.

  She slipped the piece of paper back in the jar and took out another one. It read: “Last Sunday during church, the bishop said we should ask God to reveal His will and show us what He wants us to do. That’s what I’m asking now, Lord. Please show me what I should do.”

  One thing for sure, Michelle was certain whoever had written the notes must be Amish. Why else would they have mentioned what the bishop said during church?

  Michelle looked up again. Does God really show people what they should do? Did He show the person who wrote this note what he or she was supposed to do? She bit the inside of her cheek. Would God give me direction if I asked?

  She shook her head. I’m not a religious person, and I’ve never been good at praying. He probably wouldn’t listen to me.

  Michelle put the piece of paper back in the jar and secured the lid. Then she climbed up the ladder and placed it back on the shelf, behind the others. She couldn’t rely on prayers to get her through life. She’d made it this far on her own and would continue to do so. No jar full of prayers or wishful thinking could change the course of her life. Michelle was on her own, and always would be.

  As Brad approached the Lapps’ home, he glanced in his rearview mirror. He was glad to be available to help them out, and pleased that Willis hadn’t been seriously hurt when he fell. A bad sprain would heal, but he’d still have a hard time doing his chores with one arm in a sling.

  When Brad pulled into the Amish couple’s yard, he turned in his seat to face them. “I’m free to stay and help with any chores you might need to have done today, Mr. Lapp. No charge,” he quickly added.

  Willis shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m sure I can manage.”

  Mary Ruth scowled at her husband. “There isn’t much you can do with only one hand, Willis.” Before he could respond, she looked at Brad and said, “We’d be happy to have your help, but I insist on paying you something for your trouble. You have to earn a living, and from what Stan told us about your schooling to become a minister, I’m guessing you can use some extra cash.”

  Brad couldn’t argue with that. Between the loans he’d taken out, plus money he’d borrowed from family members, he had quite a debt to repay. In some ways, he envied Amish ministers because they weren’t required to get any formal training in order to preach God’s Word. Even so, it was worth the financial sacrifice to answer God’s call on his life.

  “How about this,” Brad said. “I’ll do whatever chores you need to have done today for free, and if you have more things for me to do in the future, you can pay me. How’s that sound?”

  “It’s more than fair.” Mary Ruth smiled and nudged her husband’s good arm. “Don’t you agree?”

  Willis nodded. “My wife can at least pay you for the ride you gave us to the clinic, and then I’ll show you what all needs to be done yet today.”

  When Michelle heard a vehicle outside, she looked out the kitchen window and saw Brad’s van pull up near the house. She hurried out the back door, eager to find out how Willis was doing.

  Michelle watched as Mary Ruth and Willis got out of the van, and she rushed forward when she saw that Willis had his arm in a sling. “Is it broken?”

  “Just a bad sprain.” He looked over at Brad, who’d also gotten out of the van. “This nice young man volunteered to do some of my chores today, no charge.”

  Michelle glanced at Brad, noticing his dimpled smile. He was not only good looking, but charming as well. The fact that he’d volunteered to help Willis without pay made him almost too good to be true. Nothing like Jerry, that was for sure. Of course Michelle didn’t know Brad well enough to make that call, but he seemed respectful—a rare quality, compared to a creep like Jerry. Maybe while she was here, they could get better acquainted. Michelle would have to think about it, but after Brad was done working, she might ask for a ride to the post office so she could mail her letter to Sara Murray.

  Chapter 15

  It had been three days since Willis sprained his arm, and the doctor said it might take about three weeks to heal completely. He did a fair job doing a few of the simple chores with his good arm, but Mary Ruth, Michelle, and Brad did most of the heavier work.

  The job of feeding the chickens, cleaning the coop, and gathering eggs had been assigned to Michelle. While they weren’t her favorite things to do, her chores beat feeding the hogs. Brad took care of that chore whenever he had time to come over, and at other times, Willis and Mary Ruth managed the task together. This morning however, when Ezekiel stopped by, he’d volunteered for the job.

  Michelle stood outside the chicken coop, watching as Ezekiel finished feeding the hogs and stepped away from their pen.

  She moved across the yard to talk to him. “I see you got roped into helping today.”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t get roped into anything. Came over here because I wanted to see you. After I arrived and found out about Willis’s arm, I figured the least I could do was offer to help out.”

  “I’m sure my grandpa appreciates it.” The longer Michelle was here, the easier it became to refer to Willis as her grandfather. Truthfully, she wished he was. She’d give anything to have grandparents like Wil
lis and Mary Ruth. They were kind, caring, gentle people, with hearts as big as the sky. It was wrong to lead them on, but Michelle couldn’t help herself. The longer she stayed, the more she wanted to remain here and be their real granddaughter.

  Ezekiel snapped his fingers in front of Michelle’s face. “What are you thinking about, Sara? You looked like you’re a thousand miles away.”

  She blinked. “Uh … just thinking about the chickens, is all. So why’d you come here to see me?”

  “Wondered if you were planning to go to the Fourth of July festival that’s comin’ up in two days.”

  She shrugged. “I hadn’t heard about it, but I suppose it might be fun. Guess it’ll depend on what my grandparents have planned.”

  “Yeah, that makes sense.”

  Michelle gestured to the barn. “Want to come with me to see the puppies?”

  “Sure. Bet they’ve grown quite a bit since I last saw them.”

  “Yes, they have.”

  When they entered the barn, Sadie got up, stretched lazily, and ambled toward the door. Michelle figured the dog might be glad they were here. The pups would be occupied, giving Sadie a chance to go outside and be by herself for a while.

  Michelle and Ezekiel knelt outside the new enclosure Willis had built for the pups before his accident. The height was just enough to keep them in, but low enough for Sadie to jump out whenever she needed to.

  “Boy, they really have grown.” Ezekiel reached in and lifted the largest one out, while Michelle took Rascal in her arms.

  “I know. It’s hard to believe they are three weeks old already.” Michelle rubbed her chin against Rascal’s soft head. “They opened their eyes last week.”

  “They’re sure cute. And look how active they are.” Ezekiel chuckled when one of the pups nipped at another one’s leg. That puppy, in turn, pounced on a different pup, and soon they were all running around, yipping and chasing each other.

  “Let’s take the puppies we’re holding and go sit over there.” Michelle pointed to a couple of folding chairs.

  After they sat down, each with a pup in their lap, Michelle was at a loss for words. Meanwhile the other puppies carried on even more, no doubt wanting some attention too.

  “Now that you’ve been here awhile, how do you like it?” Ezekiel asked.

  “My grandparents are wonderful, and I’m slowly getting used to living on the farm.” Michelle scrunched up her nose. “There’s one thing I can do without though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The bugs. Especially those tiny little gnats. I hate it when they get in my hair or try to fly into my eyes.” The skin around her eyes tightened. “It seems the more I swat at them, the more they like aggravating me. Truth be told, feeding the pigs is better than puttin’ up with those pesky bugs.”

  Ezekiel chuckled. “Don’t think anyone likes ’em, but it’s something we all have to deal with.”

  “The next time I help Grandma in the garden, maybe I’ll spray some bug repellent all over my clothes.”

  His forehead wrinkled. “That might not be the healthiest thing to do, Sara. Some of that bug spray is pretty powerful. Maybe you could try wearing a hat so they don’t get in your hair.”

  “Guess I could try your suggestion, but will a hat keep them out of my eyes?”

  “I think so.”

  Michelle shrugged her shoulders. “Anyway, at the very least, a hat might keep ’em from driving me so buggy.” She snickered. “No pun intended.”

  He gave a wide grin. “Speaking of buggies, I heard Willis sprained his arm while trying to teach you how to drive his horse and buggy.”

  Michelle shook her head. “It never got that far. The poor man was knocked to the ground when he was trying to get in the buggy and his horse decided to act up. I tried to get Bashful to stop, but she wouldn’t listen or cooperate with me. It was only when Grandma came out and hollered at the horse that she finally settled down.” She lifted her shoulders with a sigh. “So I’ll probably never learn how to drive a horse and buggy, and I was looking forward to it.”

  Ezekiel rolled his eyes. “Believe me, it’s not that exciting. But if you really want to learn, I’ll be happy to teach you.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure thing. It’ll have to be on a day I’m not working at the greenhouse though. Or maybe we could try early some evening.”

  “How come you’re not working at the greenhouse right now?”

  “We were caught up on things, and Dad said I could take off the rest of the day.” He touched the tip of the puppy’s nose and smiled. “Of course, I didn’t mention that I’d been planning to come over to see you.”

  “Would your folks object to you seeing me?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. Mom and Dad are worried that I might decide not to join the Amish church and end up going English.”

  Michelle pushed a wayward strand of hair out of her face. “Oh, and you think they believe being around me might lure you in the wrong direction?”

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  “Don’t you have other English friends?”

  “A few.”

  “Then I don’t see why my being your friend would make any difference to your folks.”

  “Maybe it wouldn’t, but they might worry that we could end up seeing each other as more than friends.” He glanced at her, then averted his gaze to the sleeping pup on his lap.

  “Well, we wouldn’t want them to get the wrong idea, so maybe it would be best if you don’t teach me how to drive the horse and buggy.”

  Ezekiel shook his head with a determined expression. “No, it’s okay. I’m old enough to do what I want, and I’d really like to teach you. As a matter of fact, I taught my sister Amy how to drive our buggy when she was in her early teens.”

  “I met your sister at church, the first time I went there with my grandparents. She seemed nice and was easy to talk to.”

  “Yeah, she’s a good schweschder.”

  Michelle tipped her head to one side. “What’s a schweschder?”

  “The word means ‘sister.’ ”

  “Oh, I see. What other Pennsylvania Dutch words can you teach me?”

  He rubbed his chin. “Well, let’s see … Can you guess what hundli means?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Ezekiel pointed to Rascal, sleeping contently in Michelle’s arms.

  “Does it mean ‘puppy’?”

  “Jah. And the word for dog is hund.”

  “Okay, I think I can remember that. Hund means ‘dog’ and hundli means ‘puppy.’ ” Michelle smiled, feeling kind of proud of herself for learning a couple of new Amish words.

  “Okay now, so what do you think about me teaching you how to drive a horse and buggy?”

  “Sounds like a plan, only not with Bashful. After what she did to Willis, I don’t trust her.”

  “We can use my horse then. Big Red’s a large animal, but he’s gentle as a kitten and listens well. I’ll bet using him, I could teach you pretty fast.”

  “All right.” Michelle bobbed her head. “Whenever you’re free to begin, just let me know.” She lifted Rascal into her arms and stood. “In the meantime though, I promised Grandma I’d help her pick peas.” Michelle didn’t mention it, but she had something else she needed to do first. Then she added, “Tomorrow, she’s gonna teach me how to can them, which should be an adventure in itself, because I’ve never been all that handy in the kitchen.” She wrinkled her nose. “My idea of cooking is sticking a frozen dinner in the microwave and turning on the power.”

  He laughed, and they made their way back to the puppies’ enclosure, where the rest of Sadie’s brood had all settled down and lay sleeping in various places—some practically on top of each other.

  In all Michelle’s twenty-four years, she’d never expected to become friends with some good-looking Amish guy in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. But after meeting Ezekiel and Brad, she was coming to realize there were actually some nice guys in
this world. Jerry could use a few lessons from both of them on how to treat a lady.

  “All right, boy, let’s go!” Ezekiel snapped the reins, and Big Red took off toward home. He’d enjoyed his time with Sara today and hoped he would see her at the Fourth of July festival. The more time he spent with Sara, the more he liked her. If she stuck around long enough, he might even ask if he could take her out on a date.

  It’s funny that Amy never said anything to me about talking with Sara. It was probably just girl-talk anyway. I wonder what my folks would say if they knew I wanted to court an English woman. He reached under his straw hat and rubbed the side of his head. Is that what I want to do, or am I only interested in the Lapps’ granddaughter because she’s English?

  Ezekiel thought about the truck he’d gone to look at, wondering yet again, if he dared buy it. The older model truck had been fixed up and looked as good on the inside as it did outside, which made it even harder to turn down. It was in mint condition, and according to his friend, “ready for the open road.”

  Ezekiel probably wouldn’t be taking the truck on any long trips, but it would be great to have it to run errands and whatever else he decided to do. Sure would be better than a horse and buggy or my scooter—especially in bad weather. And it would be safer too.

  Ezekiel was old enough to make his own decisions, so there was nothing his dad could do if he did buy the vehicle. But then what if he doesn’t let me park on his property? That would make it difficult whenever Ezekiel wanted to go anywhere with the vehicle. And if he parked it at one of his relative’s place, Dad would probably find out and start lecturing him again. The negatives seemed to outweigh the positives. It was a no-win situation. Unless Ezekiel decided to leave home and step out on his own, he might never be able to do all the things he longed to try.

  “Decisions, decisions,” Ezekiel mumbled. “Sure wish I knew what to do about that truck.”

  Remembering the letter she’d written and still hadn’t mailed, Michelle stepped into the house. “Grandma,” she called. “Are you in here?”