Anna noticed that her aenti’s moments of introspection and gloominess occurred less often of late. It was easy enough to guess the reasons for that, or part of the reason.
It was harder to understand why the last year had occurred as it had.
Why had the storm taken so much from them? Why was she grievously injured? Why was she miraculously healed?
The questions were never far from her mind, but as usual, life often interrupted her thought process about the time she started chasing those questions round and round.
“I’ve forgotten my glasses again.” Mammi had settled in her rocker with the Bible on her lap. When she pushed her hands against the arms of the chair, Anna stopped her.
“I’ll get them.”
“Danki, Anna. Probably they’re in the sitting room next to my sewing.”
Hurrying from the room, she caught the smile exchanged between the two women. Yes, she could walk from one room to another without help now. That had lifted her aenti’s burden of guilt, she was sure, but there was something else too.
Perhaps it had to do with the dream of the rainbows. Had God given her that vision? Had He used her as a vessel to bless others?
Was that why she had been injured? To provide her aenti with assurance that she would see her daughter again once she passed from this life to the next? And if that was the reason, why was she healed? She would have shared the dream with her aenti whether she’d walked again or not.
She shook her head and retrieved the glasses.
There was no way to know. All of the talks with Bishop Levi, letters exchanged with her parents, and evenings spent listening to Mammi’s prayers hadn’t answered her questions. Perhaps she would never have those answers. It was enough to know that her aenti’s heart had been lifted from a pit of misery and despair.
She returned with Mammi’s glasses. When she handed them to her, Mammi reached up, placed a palm against Anna’s right cheek, and planted a kiss on the other. Pushing the glasses onto the bridge of her nose, she smiled at her granddaughter and shooed her away.
For some reason Mammi’s gentleness brought tears to Anna’s eyes. She never used to cry. Now it seemed to be a daily occurrence. Her tears weren’t from sadness, but more from the fact that her emotions, her heart, felt raw.
She felt as vulnerable and sensitive as a newborn child. Perhaps she had been reborn, in more than one way.
Erin and Anna finished the dishes quickly, with only a few words exchanged. But now the silence that pervaded the kitchen soothed Anna’s soul rather than irritating it the way it had done when she’d first come. More and more she sought such moments of peace.
All three women moved to the sitting room. Anna sat on the couch and picked up the lap quilt she was currently working on. Her mind flashed back to the other dream, the one where she had sewn the quilt pieces together incorrectly not once but many times. The nine patch in her lap showed the improvement in her quilting. Had it taken being confined to a chair for her to learn to appreciate being still, the feel of pushing a needle through fabric, the simple beauty of a pattern put together in a pleasing design?
“Those colors are coming together quite well, Anna.” Mammi pushed up her glasses and clucked as she took up her own sewing—a small blue dress for one of her grandchildren in Goshen.
“Danki.” The solid squares of brown, blue, and dark green against the specialty print of puppies in rain boots made for an interesting contrast. Anna thought of Chloe’s mom and the modern quilts she made. She glanced over at her aenti, who was working on a traditional log cabin pattern. Turning her attention back to her own work, she realized it represented a bridge between the two styles—between the traditional Amish and the modern Englisch.
She continued to quilt until a knock at the front door interrupted the silence.
“I’ll get that.” Erin was out of her chair before Anna could argue. Anna understood that not only was her aenti’s heart lighter, but she moved and reacted like a younger woman now. Could guilt affect you physically? Could it slow your body as well as your spirit? If so, Erin was proof that the opposite was true as well. Forgiveness spoke to both the earthly body and the eternal spirit.
“Jacob. We thought you were in the barn with Samuel.”
“Ya, I was for a moment, but then I went back to the bishop’s.”
“Well, come in. There’s no need for you to use the front door, you know.”
Jacob stepped into the room. Anna’s pulse had quickened at the sound of his voice. When she looked up and saw his clean clothes and still wet hair, her heart plunged. He had gone home to wash up, and now he’d come to them with news. She knew it by the set of his mouth and the look in his eyes.
Was he going home? Returning finally to New York?
Had he found other work on another farm or in a different district? Her onkel paid him as best he could, but Jacob was a good worker. There was little doubt he could do better elsewhere.
They hadn’t spoken of that morning on the lane when they had both confessed their love. They hadn’t mentioned it even once in the days since.
“Would you like a piece of pie?” Erin asked. “We have a Dutch apple cooling on the stove.”
“Maybe later.” Jacob had removed his wide-brimmed straw hat when entering the house. Now he twirled it in his hands as he looked directly at Anna. “I was hoping you would like to take a walk with me.”
Heat crept up her neck, but she folded the quilt and placed it on top of her basket of notions.
Mammi was suddenly terribly interested in her sewing, though a smile wreathed her face. Aenti had resumed her needlework without another word.
There was no need for a shawl or sweater. Though fall should be arriving, the evening was still quite warm. The sun hung in the western sky, refusing to give up the day.
They walked shoulder to shoulder toward the corn maze, which her onkel had carefully reconstructed. Anna now understood that was a work of love for Mammi. As long as her grandmother was alive, the fall festival would continue. The corn had once again grown taller than Anna. In a week they would begin to prepare the farm for visitors.
She tried to mentally prepare herself for whatever Jacob wanted to tell her. It seemed that her life was about to take another turn.
CHAPTER 69
Jacob watched as a car on the main road slowed, its driver staring in their direction.
“At least there’s only one of them this evening,” he muttered.
They stepped into the maze, and the worries of gawkers and news-people fell away.
“I suppose I should feel afraid here in the maze, here where the storm found me. I don’t, though. It seems more like a sanctuary, like a holy place almost.”
“Gotte touched you here, Anna.”
“Do you think so?” She turned and studied him, causing him to wonder if his hair was sticking out below the rim of his hat.
He no longer felt like the boy who had arrived a year ago looking for work. He’d grown stronger since working with Samuel. He’d always worked in the fields, but the daily responsibility of caring for crops and animals had changed him. He found he enjoyed the rhythm of working on a farm much more than spending days riding buses or trains.
It was time to speak frankly with Anna, though, and depending on her response he would know whether he should stay or go.
“I do believe Gotte touched you.” He hesitated and added as an afterthought, “Remember, I was here.”
“Ya. I remember. You saved me, Jacob.”
“Nein. Gotte saved you, and then He healed you.”
“But why?” Her eyes filled with tears, causing her to blink and look away.
“I can’t say, but I suppose one day we’ll know.”
She looked at him sharply at the use of we.
Jacob reached for her hand.
“I believe you know how I feel, Anna. We haven’t spoken of this since the morning you returned. I wanted to give you time to heal and settle into a normal life.” H
e rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “But perhaps it is better that I say it. I love you. My heart’s desire is for you to be my wife. I can’t imagine my life without you, and I think Gotte put us together for a reason.”
“Are you asking me to marry you?”
“I am.”
“Then my answer is yes,” she whispered.
Instead of pulling her into his arms, he fiddled with his suspenders. “So much has happened since that day, and I wasn’t sure, that is, I was afraid to hope—”
She moved closer, stood on her tiptoes, and placed both palms on his face. “My answer is yes, and I meant it. I’m sure. I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”
“Ya?” A smile slowly spread across his face.
“Ya. Do you need me to write it down so you can carry my answer in your pocket and check it now and again?”
“No need for that. Your word is good enough for me.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her softly on the lips as the breeze brushed through the cornstalks and across them. Then he held her at arm’s length, smiling at her as if he’d discovered some marvelous surprise, and perhaps he had.
Anna relaxed in his arms for a moment, but then she pulled away. Was she having second thoughts? Did she doubt whether he could provide for her?
They resumed walking through the maze.
Jacob waited, content to walk beside her and allow her to consider his words.
“There’s so much I still don’t understand. I love it here, and as you say, this does seem like a place where I came into the presence of God. And yet, I’m not sure…” She glanced in the direction of the road but couldn’t see it through the tall stalks for corn.
“I’m not sure I should stay. The attention brought on my aenti and onkel isn’t good. It makes them uncomfortable, and I know they worry about the constant offers from news and book and television people.”
“Have they told you this?”
Anna shrugged. “A girl can tell. And then there are the people who traipse onto our property to steal things. Last week it was one of my kapps. Yesterday, if it hadn’t been for Jake, a woman would have made off with a quilt I was airing across the front porch banister.”
“It’s gut that he showed up when he did. He’s like an Englisch burglar alarm.”
“Ya. He started barking, which brought me to the door. I tried to talk to her, but she turned and fled.”
“Chloe says that people will try to sell your things, claiming they have special healing powers.” He nudged her shoulder. “Perhaps you could heal my thumb. I’ll lose the nail, it’s so black.”
She stopped, pulling his hand closer to look at it. “Another tractor accident?”
“Ya. Tractors are worse than horses in many ways.”
She kissed the thumb and they continued to walk through the maze, finally exiting on the far side. The sun had dropped to the horizon and was splashing a painter’s palette of colors across the sky. Anna stood there, her back to Jacob, apparently mesmerized by the sight.
“Do you love me, Anna?”
He had moved closer, and now he circled his arms around her as they both stared at the beauty—the miracle—of another day ending over an Oklahoma field.
“Ya, Jacob. I’ve loved you for a long time.”
The words made him want to shout. He wanted to tell somebody—tell everybody. But Anna was shaking her head now.
“I haven’t allowed myself to hope that we could live a normal life like a normal couple. Our lives will always be difficult, with people intruding and gawking.”
“I’d rather live an unusual life with you than a completely normal one with anyone else.”
“Where will we live?” She turned in his arms and stared up into his eyes. “Where—”
Instead of answering he again dipped his head to kiss her, hoping to melt away the questions in her soul.
Jacob stepped back, his heart lighter with the hope in Anna’s smile. They turned and walked back toward the house, around the maze this time.
“We will move if you’d like.”
“Move?”
“Yes, we can marry and move away. We can start over again.”
CHAPTER 70
Anna stared at Jacob, her thoughts and feelings twirling like an Oklahoma twister. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say that you will.” When she didn’t answer, he continued. “I know how difficult it has been, Anna. Your speech to the crowd did help, but still they come. As you say, they take your kapps and even your quilts. Erin said someone stole a pie from the back porch the other day.”
“That could have been Jake.”
“That mutt looks as if he could eat anything, but he would have left paw prints and a tin pan.” Jacob laughed at the image but quickly grew somber. “We can stay here and hope the gawkers will find their attention consumed by something or someone else or we can move.”
“Where?”
“My family would be happy to have us in New York. I’ve talked to my mamm and dat. We’re welcome there.”
“You spoke to your parents about us?”
“I have.” Jacob laced his fingers with hers, and they slowly walked toward the house. “I’ve also taken the liberty of writing to your family in Goshen.”
“My family?”
“They would be happy to see you move back.”
Anna glanced out at the evening sky, which was quickly deepening to a dark blue velvet. The constellations appeared, filling the heavens and causing her heart to lighten. It would be a moonless night—a perfect night to watch for falling stars. She didn’t realize until that moment how much she had grown to care for Oklahoma, with its vast horizons and challenging land.
“I love it here,” she murmured.
“There is a third option.”
They had reached the house, and the gaslights from the sitting room allowed her to see his expression. If she had to describe the look on his face with one word, it would have been hopeful.
“What is our third option, Jacob?”
“To move to a more remote area of Oklahoma.” He mentioned the name of an Amish settlement she recognized. “It’s a smaller community, and a bit off the main road. I’ve asked around. They are looking for new Amish families to join them.”
“We’d move.”
“Ya, if that’s what you want, Anna.”
She pulled her kapp strings forward, ran her fingers from top to bottom. Suddenly she froze. Mammi had stepped in front of the gaslight and was silhouetted against the sitting room window. With a force stronger than any wind, she remembered the prayers that her grandmother had uttered over her—each morning and each night. She remembered her grandmother’s look of pure love as she asked, “Do you believe in miracles, child?” Had she been healed by Mammi’s faith? The Gospels described friends bringing a paralyzed man to Jesus, who healed the man. But what else did the Scripture say?
Anna knew the verses from Matthew well. She had pored over them many a night. Suddenly she understood—not everything, but one thing.
“Jesus saw their faith,” she whispered.
Jacob didn’t interrupt, didn’t question the strange turn in their conversation.
“He saw their faith and healed the man who couldn’t walk.” She placed her hands on Jacob’s shoulders and looked up at him. “I think my grandmother’s faith made me whole.”
It wasn’t the first time she’d had this revelation. The evening with Spencer and Peggy and Karen, the ride home through the southern portion of the state, the moments standing in front of the crowd, the conversation with her mother. She’d had clarity on all that had happened before, but each time it slipped away. And when it returned, she felt as if she were discovering it for the first time. She felt as if she were viewing the miracle anew.
Jacob took her hands in his and kissed each one.
“I will marry you, Jacob. But I can’t leave Mammi. There are things I need to learn from her, and she means so much to me.”
“So
you wouldn’t mind if they moved with us?” Now Jacob had a twinkle in his eyes.
“With us?”
“Sure. Samuel and I thought you might prefer the third option.”
“You’ve spoken with Samuel?”
“We both realized you wouldn’t want to leave Mammi.”
“You spoke to him about us marrying?”
“It would be good to have family with us when we make such a big move.” Jacob clasped her hand in his as they walked up the porch steps.
She had no idea what to say. Jacob had known what she needed before she did. How was it that she had come to be so blessed? And what was God’s plan for their future?
All questions that would wait for another day.
Instead of going inside, they sat on the porch steps. Jacob put his arm around Anna, and she rested her head on his shoulder. Together they watched the evening sky twinkle with the light of a million stars.
EPILOGUE
Late October
That is Anna’s story.
Was she healed?
I know for a fact that she was a paraplegic. I was there when the doctor explained her injury. I visited her each week as she learned to adjust to the confines of a wheelchair. And I received a phone call the morning she first walked.
All of these things I know, and I reported on them in the Mayes County Chronicle. I’ve included some of those posts here, but you can find the rest if you go and research the newspaper archives.
What you won’t find is the why of Anna’s healing. You can reread Anna’s explanation to the crowd outside the entry to her uncle’s farm. I have studied the transcript of that morning time and again. And yes, I still have questions.
I’ll admit I’ve spent many a night wondering how as well as why. Perhaps it’s not for man to understand the mysteries of God. Or, as Mammi is fond of quoting from the book of Job, “He performs wonders that cannot be fathomed, miracles that cannot be counted.”
I recently visited Anna and Jacob. They were settled in their new home with Samuel, Erin, and Mammi. As I drove toward their house, passing fields that had mostly been harvested, I could see Anna, shielding her eyes from the noonday sun as she tracked my small blue car making its way down the dirt lane.
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