Valley of Hope: The Amish of Lancaster

by Sarah Price

  She digested the words, despite her appetite having vanished in more ways than one. Nothing seemed real. “But he came here to court me,” she whispered, not caring that she was revealing too much. Under the circumstances, she wanted to defend Samuel and, she thought, if they only knew what had happened, they would believe him…just as she did.

  Her daed leaned forward and grabbed her wrist, forcing her to look at him. The move startled her. Her father had never done something like that before. But he didn’t release his hold and, when she finally complied, he glared at her and said, “You will stay away from that boy, Mary Ruth. He is trouble and I will not have this family’s good name dragged down with him. There is no hope for that boy.”

  “Daed!”

  He had shook his head. “Don’t defend him no more, Mary Ruth. It is your own soul, not his, that needs preservation now.” He glanced around the table at the rest of his children. His expression was hard and unforgiving as he said, “I’ll have none of you involved with that Lapp boy. He has run wild and will now answer to God as well as the community! Our family must remain out of this.”

  The rest of the family had bowed their heads in silence, accepting the command from their father and husband. After all, in the Amish household, the man was the head, with no questions asked. But Mary Ruth had plenty of questions. Her primary one was whatever happened to Jesus’ plan for forgiveness? Why had her daed given up faith and hope in Samuel? Why was he encouraging her to do the same? Her heart had been heavy and the night had been long as her mind wrestled with these different thoughts.

  Despite that having only happened the evening before, it seemed as if it had occurred weeks ago. She hadn’t been able to sleep all night and had passed the day in a state of dazed confusion. How could this be, she kept asking herself. Just when Samuel had turned around and committed to a relationship? Just when he was on the verge of accepting Jesus? Nothing had seemed real to her all day long. Thankfully, everyone had sensed her inner conflict and had left her alone to her thoughts.

  But now, as she sat in the garden, her heart pounded inside of her chest when she realized that the commotion could only be caused by one thing: Samuel. She suspected that he had come to the farm, wanting to speak to her; and, just as sure as Mary Ruth was that Samuel was at the center of the loud voices, she was fairly certain that her daed and brother had intercepted him, forbidding him from seeing her.

  She wiped her hands on her skirt and struggled to her feet. The voices that filtered through the air were loud enough as the breeze carried them in her direction. However, they were also too low for her to understand what was actually being said. Yet she knew that one of the voices was her father’s and the other was Stephen’s. When she heard a third voice, she knew that it was Samuel and, once again, her heart seemed to jump inside her chest.

  Her eyes stung from having cried during the night and she quickly lifted her hand to smooth her hair back under the blue kerchief that covered her head. She hoped that she didn’t look as exhausted and upset as she felt. Yet, as her bare feet began to walk in the direction of the noise, she knew that it didn’t really matter. Her daed would never let her speak to Samuel.

  The voices grew louder as she approached the barn. The doors were opened to let light and air into the main section where the cows and horses were kept. It was empty now, except for the three men who were standing in the dim light. Mary Ruth lingered near the door, her hand resting tentatively on the frame as she listened.

  “You need to let the situation simmer down, Samuel, before you think about that!”

  Mary Ruth frowned at her brother’s words. What were they talking about?

  “I just want to speak to her,” she heard Samuel say.

  “You’ll see her at church on Sunday,” her daed replied tersely. “No need interrupting her work.” Clearly, Amos had no intention of permitting Samuel to the house for visiting Mary Ruth. The lack of compassion in his voice startled her and, at that moment, she felt ashamed of her father.

  “Amos,” Samuel said to her daed. “I wasn’t there with those boys.”

  “Don’t need no explanations to something that ain’t my business,” her daed said, a harshness in his voice that Mary Ruth hadn’t heard before. In fact, she had never seen him so protective over her and so insistent on keeping a particular Amish man away from one of his daughters. “And especially to a question that I ain’t asked!”

  There was a moment of silence and Mary Ruth thought that she heard feet shuffling. Samuel shouted out “Wait!” and she knew that her father had started to walk away. Quickly, she moved away from the door in case her father emerged. But the doorway to the barn remained empty.

  “Leave it be, Samuel,” her brother Stephen said softly.

  “No!” Samuel shot back. “I need her to know that I meant everything! I need her to know that I wasn’t there!” He hesitated then, in a calm voice said, “Die Wahrehti ist untodlich!” Indeed, no one would be able to stop the truth from coming out but he needed Mary Ruth to know the truth now.

  There was a heavy silence and Mary Ruth shut her eyes, leaning her head on the barn wall. Truth cannot be killed, indeed, she thought as she repeated what Samuel had said to her father. She pressed her cheek against the wood and felt tears, once again, coming to her eyes. The sadness in Samuel’s voice touched her soul. He was alone, so alone, she thought. If only she could go to him, to comfort him…His words made her want to capture him in an embrace and protect him from these horrible accusations. But she knew that her father would feel much less pity.

  And then she heard it. If Samuel had spoken calmly, her daed was equally calm. Yet the edge to his voice was more than apparent when he said, “You compare yourself to Balthasar Hubmaier? I dare say that you, Samuel Lapp, will not be seen as a martyr.” His father laughed, a single, low laugh that seemed out of place with the discussion. “And quoting the words of such a great man does not make you pious nor does it mask your recent deeds!”

  “Amos…” Samuel pleaded.

  “That will be all, Samuel,” her daed said dismissively. His voice was stern and it was clear that the conversation had ended. As head of his own household, Amos Smucker’s decision had been made. “You get yourself back home and help your parents. I reckon you’ve caused them enough worry. No need to cause the same on my farm or with my family.”

  Now the shuffling was louder. Mary Ruth knew that her daed was leaving the barn and wouldn’t be turning back again. Certainly he would look for her and escort her back to the house so that Samuel could not speak with her. Quickly, before he could catch sight of her, she dashed around the corner of the barn, her heart pounding and her hands shaking. She felt as if she was disobeying her father, something that she had never done yet, she also knew that he could fault her if she accidentally encountered Samuel. She just had to find a way to make that happen.

  She pressed her back against the back wall of the barn, tilting her head up with her eyes closed. She tried to catch her breath and still her beating heart. He had to come this way, she prayed. Please let him come this way.

  And just like that, he stood before her, dressed in his Sunday best. Clearly he had tried to present a more humble image than his reputation permitted at the present moment. That one gesture touched her and she wanted to say as much. But words seemed stuck in her throat.

  He started to say her name but stopped, glancing over his shoulder to make certain no one was near. When he looked back at her, she couldn’t help but stare at him, taking in his pale face and sunken eyes. He had aged in just two days, she thought. Gone was the youthful look of a rebellious boy and, in its place, was the tired and worn face of a very frightened young man.

  “Samuel,” she whispered, feeling the sting of tears in her eyes once again.

  He placed his finger to his lips, indicating that she should not speak. Then, with his other hand, he reached out and took hers. He led her away from the barn and toward the place where he had left his horse and buggy. Aro
und the side of the buggy, he finally released her hand, knowing that no one could see her.

  “Samuel,” she started again. “What has happened?”

  He took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. His brown curls drooped over his forehead and he stared over the hill behind them. “I don’t know, Mary Ruth. I’m as bewildered as the next person.”

  She bit her lower lip as she watched him. “They said you were driving the car and just walked away.”

  His reaction startled her. He stared at her, his blue eyes wide and wild. “And what do you think, Mary Ruth? What do you believe?”

  She wasn’t certain how to respond so she hesitated. She only knew the story from Simon’s words but she also had seen Samuel that night when he was waiting for her. He hadn’t seemed like someone who could have driven a car and walked away from a fatal car accident.

  “I sure hope it’s not true,” she finally whispered.

  Clearly, her answer disappointed him. His shoulders seemed to slump as he shook his head and pursed his lips. “Wrong answer,” he mumbled.

  She felt a sting of guilt. “What do you want me to say?” she pleaded.

  He spun around and took a step toward her. “You know I don’t know how to drive a car! You know that I traveled all day and evening to try to get back here to take you home from the singing. I told you all of those things, Mary Ruth, the night that I told you my intentions to settle down, join the church, and court you.”

  She nodded her head, her voice soft and barely audible. “Ja, you said those things, for sure and certain.”

  “How could I have said those things if what they say was true?” He straightened his back and stared into her eyes. “I need to know that you believe me.”

  “Believe you?”

  “Do you or don’t you?” he demanded.

  “Mary Ruth!” a voice called from the barn. “Is that you out there?”

  She hesitated, glancing over her shoulder in the direction of the voice then back at Samuel. “I have to answer him,” she said softly.

  The muscles in his jaw tightened and he seemed to hesitate. But he didn’t say anything. After all, he knew that she was right. If her daed caught her talking to him alone, he would be none too pleased that she hadn’t responded. Defeated, Samuel lifted his chin in the direction of the barn, indicating that she should answer her daed.

  “Ja, Daed! I’m here.”

  “Your mamm needs you in the house,” he called back, his feet shuffling on the driveway as he hurried over toward the buggy. Within seconds, he was around the side of the buggy and grabbing for her arm. “Now, Mary Ruth.” He cast a dark look at Samuel. “You need to go home now, Samuel. I told you not to be bothering my daughter.”

  She pulled back, pausing just briefly. “I was headed to the mailbox, Daed,” she lied, feeling no remorse for the words as they slipped past her tongue.

  “I’ll get it later,” he snapped as he started pulling her toward the house and away from Samuel.

  It was clear that she wouldn’t even have the opportunity to say goodbye to Samuel. It was even clearer that she wouldn’t get a chance to talk to him until church Sunday and that was unlikely if her daed and brothers had their way. Quickly, she looked over her shoulder, her eyes quickly meeting Samuel’s. He was watching her being escorted away, too aware that irrevocable damage had been caused in any possible relationship that he might have had with her father.

  The look on his face was of complete despair and Mary Ruth’s heart ached for him. And then, in just one quick moment of defiance, she stopped walking and pulled her arm free, just long enough to turn around and take a few steps toward Samuel. “I believe you,” she said. “I do, Samuel. I honestly do.”

  There was nothing left to say. She felt her father’s hand tighten around her arm and pull her, none too gently this time, away from the buggy and toward the house.

  But a look of relief washed over his face. Those three words had been just enough to lift a great burden from his shoulders. And she knew that she did, indeed, believe him. She knew that Samuel was innocent and that she would support him as best as she could…as she always had and as she always would.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Church Sunday seemed too far away to Samuel. He knew that Sunday was the only day that he’d be able to see Mary Ruth and, if the opportunity arose, speak to her privately about everything that had happened. He needed the comfort of her support and to hear more of those very words that she had spoken. “I believe you,” she had said. And his heart had rejoiced. If no one else dared to believe, at least Mary Ruth did. And that saved his soul.

  The days dragged by and he retreated to his own thoughts. For the rest of the week, he arose early to get started on his chores, quietly moving about the dairy barn to help with the milking before having breakfast where he simply picked at his plate. He found comfort with the cows, despite the years of dreading the morning milking. The lack of judgment from the herd of cattle soothed his soul at a time when there was too much judgment from the people surrounding him. Even at the family table, there was little conversation, everyone drawn into their own private thoughts. For that, Samuel was thankful. He couldn’t have handled forced conversation about farming or gardens, not during this time of stress.

  During the day, he went about his work at the carpentry shop, quiet and withdrawn. He avoided Simon although he wished he had the nerve to talk to him about Mary Ruth. He wanted to tell Simon that he had come home early, had gone looking for Mary Ruth, and had made a commitment to her that he was a changed man. He wanted to tell Simon that he wanted only to honor her and return the adoration she had shown him throughout the years. But he didn’t tell Simon any of these things. Amos Smucker had made it clear that he didn’t want Samuel involved with Mary Ruth or anyone else in his family, at least not while the matter was unresolved. The thought that it might never be resolved troubled him.

  Now, as he sat on the hard bench, listening intently to the song while the bishop and ministers left the room to discuss the sermon, he felt tightness in his chest. He suspected that the morning song from the Ausbund had been especially selected for him when he listened to the words.

  At one time, I walked to and fro

  In my latter days,

  Contemplated how near death was to me,

  Then I began to be fearful.

  I have no neither day nor hour

  And have committed many sins,

  All my days have done nothing good,

  God’s commandments all neglected,

  Death has surrounded me.

  Samuel kept his eyes on the Ausbund in his hands, the German words jumping off the page. He mouthed the words but was not actually singing them with the rest of the congregation. He felt many eyes staring at him, the weight of it heavy on his shoulders. But he kept his back straight and his eyes focused on the words that described the lamentations of the Anabaptist martyr, Hans von Bilach. Samuel found it astonishing that those very words from the song, despite having been written 400 years ago, described exactly how he felt on this early spring morning.

  He hadn’t wanted to attend church today but he knew better than to breach the subject with his parents. Besides, he kept telling himself, there is no reason to hide. After all, Samuel knew that he was wrongly suspected. He had prayed all night to God, prayed for his friend Paul, and prayed for Jacob and Peter who were no longer alive. He prayed for their families and prayed for his own. It had been a long night of prayers…a long week of prayers, he corrected himself; and, for the first time in a long time, he felt closer to God and his faith was stronger than ever before. Now, he thought, if only the rest of the community could see that.

  When it was time to kneel for the closing prayer, Samuel was the first one to turn around and press his forehead to his clenched hands, which rested on the bench. He listened to the words from the minister and lifted his heart up to the Lord. He felt the strength of the words in his core, his eyes squeezed shut and his min
d open. Then, at that very moment, Samuel felt it. He felt the love of God as the words flowed from the minister’s mouth directly into his soul. And he felt spiritually cleansed of the burden that had been placed upon him.

  When he stood up, Samuel felt lighter and free. Yes, he thought. God knows what happened and, like Job, I’m being tested. Sylvia was right, indeed. Just like Job, I will pass this test. Whatever happens after that is the will of God. But He will not give me more than I can handle and I will not fail Him, Samuel promised to himself.

  Looking around the room, Samuel took in a deep breath. He would not judge those who judged him, he decided. He would walk with Jesus and God, following their lead. With the burden removed from his shoulders, he stood tall and kept his head lifted high; and he hurried to help the other men set up the tables for the noon meal, rather than scurry outside to be with his friends.

  For the rest of the fellowship time, Samuel remained quiet but with an inner peace. He helped when he could, without having to be asked. He smiled at the older women, ignoring their cold reactions. He steered clear of Mary Ruth, too aware of Amos’s stern glare that seemed to follow him around the room. And when the two seatings for the noon fellowship meal ended, Samuel eagerly helped the men disassemble the tables and carry the wooden benches to the wagon for storage until the following week.