Valley of Hope: The Amish of Lancaster

by Sarah Price

  “Danke,” Samuel said, feeling his throat tighten as he fought back the tears of relief that threatened to cloud his eyes.

  Holding Samuel’s arm in his hand, the bishop leaned forward. “That should start the healing process, too,” he whispered. “and the community sure could use some healing these days, ja?”

  During the second seating for the noon meal, Samuel sat next to David and his friend, John Bucher. He was quiet during the meal but quickly noticed that many of the youth were staring at him. When he looked up, they would cast an uneasy smile at him before quickly lowering their eyes. Samuel wasn’t certain how to interpret that but he didn’t ask. He stayed focus on his meal and listening to John Bucher’s conversation with David.

  A soft hand touched his shoulder. When he looked up, he saw Mary Ruth behind him. She held a pitcher of meadow tea and smiled at him. “Samuel, would you like some more tea?” she asked, loud enough so that several people turned to look at her. It was clear by her actions that she was sending a message to everyone. Not only was she publicly acknowledging his innocence but she was also making a statement about their relationship.

  “Ja,” he said quietly. “That would sure be nice, Mary Ruth.” He reached for his cup and turned as he handed it to her. “Danke,” he whispered when he took it back from her.

  She took a deep breath, smiled, and said, “Gem gschehne!” Then she reached for David’s cup to pour him some tea as she continued around the table. The rest of the table seemed to silently watch, too aware of the message Mary Ruth had just sent. While her devotion to Samuel didn’t surprise anyone, her public display certainly did. And, with that, the ice seemed to be broken.

  “Bet you’re sure glad to have that whole Philadelphia incident behind you,” one young man said.

  Silence fell across the table. For what seemed like a long time, no one moved or spoke. Everyone was staring at Samuel, waiting for his response. He felt uncomfortable under their attention. It was too direct and too apparent that they were actually waiting for him to respond. Clearly, this was a question on everyone’s minds but only one person had the nerve to actually ask it.

  Taking a deep breath, Samuel frowned and looked at the man, Irv Beiler. If they wanted an answer, Samuel thought, they would get one. But he weighed the words in his mind before responding. How could he possibly tell them what he was really thinking and feeling? How could he let them see the change within him? What words could be so powerful strong as to start the healing process?

  Everyone else seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for Samuel’s response. “I feel right awful for their families, ja,” he said. “It’s always sad when someone gets called home to God as such a young age.”

  However, that wasn’t what Irv Beiler meant and they all knew it. No one spoke. They continued watching Samuel, waiting for more. He even noticed that several of the older women who were sitting by the wall near the open windows were paying attention, too. He knew that his words would be repeated. This was his opportunity to clear the air, to set the record straight.

  So, knowing that everyone who was nearby was listening, Samuel felt compelled to share more. “I knew that what those fellows did was a mistake. I knew that I shouldn’t be in Philadelphia with them from the moment we arrived. Sometimes we learn from our mistakes faster than other times. I sure learned right quick that I didn’t like their behavior and I left as soon as I realized it. I just wanted to come home, to return to my family and community. It was because of that trip that I knew where I belonged and it wasn’t with those men.” He sighed. “Ja, I left as fast as I could. Lucky for me or I may have been one of them.”

  He looked around the table at the faces staring at him. How often had he pondered how close he could have come to being the one that was mourned? If he hadn’t left, he would have been in that car and undoubtedly injured or even killed. His decision to return to his community had most likely saved his life on more than one level. God had saved him. He cleared his throat and added, “Still, I’m sure sorry that their families will be missing them.”

  “We’re glad you weren’t there,” John said.

  Samuel nodded. “Ja, sure do appreciate that, John.” He glanced at the faces staring at him. “I can tell you one thing I learned and that is how I won’t be straying from the church again, that’s for sure and certain.”

  John Bucher clapped him on the back as he stood to leave, carrying his dirty plate in his other hand. “Willkumm home, brudder,” he said lightly and the other men laughed, some of them looking uncomfortable, but all of them nodding their heads.

  It was almost time for the evening singing. Samuel had spent the afternoon polishing the courting buggy. He had spent almost an hour, shining the wood panels until they sparkled, making certain that they were completely smudge free. By the time he was finished, even David had whistled under his breath at how beautiful it looked.

  “If that buggy could talk,” he said to Samuel.

  “Ja, how many of us have used it,” he replied, not caring that his brother knew why Samuel was using it this evening.

  David didn’t reply but placed his hand on Samuel’s shoulder. “You don’t get your hopes up, Samuel. Her daed might not let her go, you know.”

  With a casual shrug of his shoulders, Samuel tried to act as though it was of no importance. But they both knew otherwise. Mary Ruth had made her own intentions quite clear at the fellowship meal after church services earlier in the day. There was no way that Amos would not have learned how Mary Ruth had made a point to approach Samuel first and refill his cup of iced tea. Now, the question was whether or not Amos would permit her to attend the singing.

  Despite the fact that the Smucker’s farm was along the hill by the edge of the Lapp farm, Samuel felt as though the buggy ride took too long. He worried that something would happen. What if a car ran him off the road? What if his horse spooked? He knew those thoughts were irrational, but he couldn’t stop them from flooding into his mind.

  His hands were sweaty and he wished that he could unbutton his shirt at the neckline. But, if he wanted to come calling on Mary Ruth, he wanted to be dressed in his Sunday best. So that meant the white shirt buttoned to the neck and his black vest covering it. He was glad he didn’t have to wear his black felt winter hat. His Sunday straw hat was more than sufficient, given that summer was in full swing and the heat was oppressive.

  When he pulled the buggy into the Smucker’s driveway, he couldn’t help but flashback to the last time he had been there. Her daed had thrown him off the farm, telling him to stay away from Mary Ruth. Samuel’s heart pounded inside of his chest. What would Amos’s reaction be now? Mary Ruth was free to court whomever she liked, that was true. But most young women preferred to have their parents’ approval, even if it wasn’t discussed. Amos had made it quite clear that he did not approve of Mary Ruth and Samuel as a courting couple, even without any such discussion.

  Samuel stopped the horse near the hitching post and, after securing the horse, he turned toward the house. It was early to leave for the singing. However, Samuel had wanted to arrive early so that Simon or Stephen didn’t take Mary Ruth instead. Now, however, he wished that he had stuck to the traditional plan of taking Mary Ruth home after the singing. That would have avoided any sort of confrontation with Amos. Most courting couples didn’t drive to the singings until their relationship was well established and an announcement eminent. Samuel was making his intention known right up front, especially since he had already expressed his interest in that eventuality to Mary Ruth.

  Standing at the door, he knocked once, twice. Then he took a step back, smoothing down the front of his vest and flicking a piece of hay from his sleeve. Seconds seemed like minutes as he heard the heavy footsteps of a man walking toward the door.

  Earlier that afternoon, David had tried to talk Samuel out of taking the courting buggy over to the Smucker’s farm to come calling on Mary Ruth. “It’s too soon,” he had said with as much compassion as he could must
er. “You have to give Amos some time. You know he was right sore about everything.”

  But Samuel had been adamant. He wanted everyone to see that his actions matched his words. Hiding from the people would only continue the gossip. He knew that he had to face them in order to remind everyone that he had not done anything wrong.

  “But it’s a reminder that they did something wrong,” David pointed out. “They judged you. All of them. I think you are being too hasty, brother.”

  “Nee,” Samuel said. “I’m being true to myself and to God,” he had replied, continuing to clear the courting buggy and ignoring any further comments or looks from his brother. Part of being a man, he told himself, was making decisions like a man.

  Now, as he waited for the door to open, Samuel wondered if his brother hadn’t been correct. Mayhaps Amos Smucker would need more time, he thought. Mayhaps he’d be too ashamed of himself to ever forgive Samuel. Yet, Samuel knew that too much time had gone by already and he had made a promise to Mary Ruth, a promise he intended to keep.

  “Samuel,” Simon said as he opened the door. He glanced over his shoulder, a worried expression on his face. Blocking the door, he lowered his voice. “What are you doing here?”

  Straightening his shoulders, Samuel took a deep breath and, with as much confidence as he could muster, he said, “I’ve come calling for Mary Ruth. I would like to take her to the singing this evening.”

  “Who’s there?” A gruff voice called out.

  Simon cringed and shook his head slightly at Samuel, as if indicating that he should leave. But, a hand fell onto his shoulder and Simon didn’t speak as he backed away from the door as his father approached, pushing him aside.

  Amos stood at the door, blocking Samuel’s vision into the room. If Mary Ruth was in there behind him, Samuel couldn’t see. He was a tall man with large, broad shoulders. The look on Amos’s face was stern and harsh. He studied Samuel’s face for the briefest of seconds before he snapped, “What are you doing on my doorstep, Samuel Lapp?” There was no forgiveness in his voice.

  Once again, Samuel tried to act calmer than he felt. “I’ve come calling for Mary Ruth. I’d like to take her to the singing, Amos,” Samuel said. His pulse raced and he felt the color drain from his face as he waited for Amos’s reaction.

  “You did now, eh?”

  “Yes sir,” Samuel said. He hesitated, wondering how far to push the issue.

  “After everything you have put this community through, you show up on my doorstep, asking to see my daughter?”

  “Yes sir,” Samuel said meekly.

  “That’s very bold of you, Samuel.” Clearly Amos was not happy with his presence on his porch. His expression was too full of disapproval to be mistaken for anything else. “I told you not to come to our house.”

  “You did, Amos. But that was before. I have the right to come asking for her.” Samuel pushed his shoulders back and stood tall, leveling his eyes at Amos. “And I intend to come every Sunday singing until springtime.”

  “Springtime?” Amos glared at him. “That’s a long way off. Best be focusing on tonight before you starting planning for springtime!”

  For a moment, Samuel didn’t respond. He wasn’t about to take back what he had said. By stating his intentions, Samuel had made it clear for Amos to understand where Samuel wanted this relationship to go. Amos’s response had made his own position clear, too. There was no response needed, nothing that would move the situation forward so silence worked just as well.

  “I heard what you did to that little boy,” Amos said sharply, breaking the silence. His eyes were piercing, staring at Samuel. The look on his face and the harshness of his words sounded accusatory and caught Samuel off-guard. Was Amos talking about Abram? Or was he referencing Paul and how he had died?

  “Little boy?”

  “Your brother’s boy. The one that almost drowned,” Amos said impatiently, waving his hand in the air. Then, with a stern look and a finger pointed directly at Samuel’s chest, he said, “God worked a miracle through you that day.”

  Samuel didn’t speak. He wasn’t certain what he should say. To admit such a statement was to be immodest and vain. To downplay it would be dishonest. It had been a miracle. Yet, as he stood before Amos, he noticed something soften in the old man’s face.

  “I heard you were quite helpful to your family during that crisis, too. You took some responsibility and saw it through.” Amos cleared his throat but refused to look away from Samuel. “I also heard that you were telling the truth about those boys. You weren’t with them,” Amos continued.

  “I wasn’t with them,” Samuel said softly.

  Amos reached out and placed a hand on Samuel’s shoulder. The gesture startled him and he jumped at the man’s touch. “Reckon you’ve had quite a scare, son. Reckon you’ve learned quite a lesson.” He hesitated. “More importantly, I imagine we have all learned a lesson.”

  Samuel nodded, too afraid of his voice to speak.

  With a simple nod of his head, Amos seemed to indicate his own lessons learned. “Even still, I’ll be watching you, Samuel. Don’t make any missteps, not when it comes to my daughter. But I’m willing to admit when I was wrong and offer you a second chance.” And, with that, he leaned back and called out, “Mary Ruth! Someone’s at the door for you!” He narrowed his eyes again at Samuel but backed away as Mary Ruth approached from another room.

  She seemed surprised to see Samuel standing there and glanced at her daed, uncertain how to react. When her daed stood there, unmoving, she looked back at Samuel. Clearly, she was confused, wondering what to say and why her daed had called her to the door. “Guder Owed, Samuel.”

  Samuel glanced over her shoulder at Amos before he cleared his throat. “Thought you might like to ride over to the singing with me this evening. Mayhaps we could stop for some ice cream along the way.” He hesitated, not wanting to presume that she could go along for such a long period of time. “If you aren’t needed at home, that is,” he added

  Mary Ruth bit her lower lip and turned to her father. His face remained hard and serious but he hadn’t spoken against Samuel. In fact, there was something new in his eyes. He tried to appear fierce and strong but there was a sparkle in his eye as he watched his daughter with Samuel. The sparkle gave her strength and, despite feeling nervous, she managed to ask, “Daed, might I be excused from the rest of my chores?”

  Amos hesitated, his eyes shifting from Mary Ruth to Samuel then back to Mary Ruth. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity but was only a few seconds, he nodded his head once then turned and walked away. As he left, they stared at the place where he had stood, their eyes full of questions but their mouths remaining silent. If Amos Smucker had suddenly changed his mind, neither Samuel nor Mary Ruth were about to question it.

  “I’ll be out in a minute, then,” she said softly, her eyes suddenly glowing with life.

  He helped her into the buggy before climbing up beside her. With a single slap of the reins on the horse’s back, he backed up the buggy before driving out of the driveway. They were silent for the first few minutes, both wrapped up in their own thoughts. Samuel was trying to understand what Amos had said. If he had expected a reaction from Amos, that had not been it. Acceptance? A hint of forgiveness? Indeed, Samuel had been prepared for quite a different outcome. What’s more, he was certain that Mary Ruth was equally as surprised by her daed giving in so easily.

  “So this is how it begins,” she whispered, looking over at him.

  She was nervous. That made him smile. “Sure does seem that way.” He reached out and took her hand in his, holding it comfortably in his. For the rest of the ride, neither spoke. There were no words to say that would express the feelings of joy that they felt.

  Epilogue

  As they stood outside the mule shed, the stars in the night sky casting a blue glow around them, Samuel held Mary Ruth’s hands. He stared down at her and smiled. “Mrs. Samuel Lapp,” he whispered and laughed softly as she lowe
red her eyes. “Samuel’s Mary Ruth. No one can ever change that now,” he said.

  “They couldn’t change it before, could they?” she asked softly.

  It had been a long day and both of them were exhausted. Yet they knew that their wedding day and night could only happen once in their lifetime. They wanted to cherish every second of it before retiring for the evening.

  “Won’t seem like home for a while, ja?” he said, nodding his head toward the small house that was connected to the main house and built over the mule shed. All fall and winter, Samuel and Daniel had helped Junior with building his new house by the carpentry shop. By springtime, Lillian was able to move into the house with their eight children, which freed up the main house for Rachel and Daniel to occupy. The timing coincided with Samuel’s announcement of his marriage to Mary Ruth.