Glossary
ach — oh
Ausbund — hymnal
bruder — brother
daed — father
danke — thank you
dawdi — grandfather
drei — three
ein — one
ferhoodled — enamored
Gott — God
guder mariye — good morning
gut — good
hallo — hello
haus — house
jah — yes
kapp — hat
mamm — mother
mammi — grandmother
narrisch — crazy
nee — no
rumspringa — teenagers running around
shunned — disregarded
wilkom — you’re welcome
wunderbaar — wonderful
zwo — two
Coming from Beth Shriver,
Spring 2014,
Season of the Spirit
Chapter One
THE STORM IN Emma’s haus foreshadowed the impending weather. The bleak, Pennsylvania sky hung overhead with a threat of snow. She sat up in bed and listened to the commotion downstairs. Roy’s voice lifted, rising to a decibel that would surely bring her daed into the kitchen. Their neighbor was a good man, but he’d had enough of her brother. Mark had continued to become harder to deal with once he reached adolescence. Letting loose a herd of thirty milk cows, staying out all night, and getting caught with a beer didn’t seem to be enough. His latest pursuit happened to be Roy’s daughter.
Emma willed herself to get ready for the day, but she didn’t move, just closed her eyes and waited for the shouting to end. She didn’t want to have to see Roy—not again, not already. He’d been over just two days ago when he caught Mark throwing rocks at Naomi’s window one night. It wouldn’t have been so bad except that he broke the window in the process. Daed had sent him over to work off the damage, but that gave him too much time with Naomi, and for whatever reason she seemed to be enamored with him now. Mark was a handsome one, and charming in his own way, but a pain in Emma’s side. She seemed to get stuck dealing with him. Her patience was worn as thin as Roy’s.
When the back door slammed shut, she pushed off her warm quilt and climbed out of bed.
What did he do now?
She stood on the cold wood floor, gathering her clothes to get dressed. Her mamm had promised her they would make soap this morning, but only if Emma finished with her morning chores before the noon meal. She wasted no time gathering the eggs, helping her brother with the milking, and hanging the clothes up to dry.
Monday laundry always took a long piece of the day, but when her sisters helped, they finished quickly. As soon as the last bedsheet was clipped onto the clothesline, Emma headed for the house to start the first batch of soap, but the sound of boots scuffling in the pebbled dirt made her pause.
Zeb walked down the lane toward her haus, buried in a warm, heavy coat. His tall, skinny frame couldn’t be missed, like a scare-crow in a cornfield. He gave her a smile as he strolled up to her white clapboard house. She wondered if her mamm had something to do with his visit. Emma was past the age most women married, but much younger than Zeb. His wife had passed away not long after they married, and then he started courting Emma. She had been reluctant; it seemed too soon. But her mamm was set on finding her a suitor, even though Emma had no interest in anyone—except for one. And he was no longer part of the community.
“It’s a beautiful morning.” Zeb’s customary greeting made her realize what a stressful day it had been. The sun hadn’t reached the middle of the sky yet. And now she had to give him her attention.
“Morning, Zeb.” She picked up a basket of clean laundry.
He took one large step into the house with Emma, standing within inches in front of her, looking down at her with his dark blue eyes. “How are you today?”
“Busy with chores.” That’s all she said or wanted to say. She didn’t feel like engaging in small talk, and there was nothing new to tell.
“I can’t stay long. Do you have a minute?” Only Zeb would ask it in a way that made it hard to say no. He was kind enough and soft on the eyes. She wondered what he saw in her. Others had vied for his attention when his wife died. It was more common to lose a husband than a wife, but most Amish women didn’t remarry. The men most always did. For whatever reason, Zeb continued in his attempts to court her.
The large home had sparse furniture except in the kitchen, where eight seats filled the large room. The fire in the family room warmed the cozy area. Multicolored rag rugs warmed the wood floors in every room. Four bedrooms were just enough to accommodate her family, with a washroom to share and outhouse out back.
She slipped off her coat and took his. He sat on the couch close to the fire and rubbed his hands together.
“I hope you don’t mind me folding laundry.” Emma plopped the wicker basket down on the family room floor. It was wash day, and she couldn’t get behind. She wondered why Zeb had idle time this early in the morning. He had a large and thriving dairy with over fifty Holstein cattle. He’d nearly doubled the number after his wife passed on. He said the extra work would keep his mind off things. He had a large, sprawling farm, but he used it more for grazing land than growing crops. She wondered whether that was one reason her mamm was so adamant that she spend time with him. He would provide a secure life for whomever he married.
They talked a bit, and she listened as he told stories. He always had one to tell, and she had to admit they were witty. She never knew whether they were fact or fiction, but they were entertaining, either way. But today she was restless.
She had plans with her mamm and didn’t want the opportunity to pass her by. With six children, it wasn’t often she had time with her mamm alone. Being the oldest gave her privileges, but also responsibilities the others didn’t have. Mark and Maria were only a year apart from one another, and in their teenage years. The younger three were all under ten years of age. Her mamm said the Lord knew she needed a break in between having babies so close together.
Zeb jerked his head up when he heard Maria’s voice rise from the kitchen. “Should we see what she needs?”
Her sisters—Mary, Martha, and Miriam—were getting a baking lesson. The problem with that was Maria was instructing instead of Mamm. Martha peeked out the kitchen door. “She burned something again.”
Emma couldn’t help but grin, although she was sure her mamm didn’t find it humorous at all. “What is it this time?”
“Cheese bread.” Mary appeared behind Martha. They both had strawberry blonde hair like their mamm. People thought they were twins due to their being so close together in age.
“Ach, my favorite.” Emma squeezed Zeb’s hand and genuinely smiled for the first time that day. “I should go.”
He chuckled. “You can accept my help every now and then.” One side of his lips lifted.
She nodded, having heard the words too many times. She knew he wanted to be around her family. The more they knew him, the more she felt obligated to consider him. And he knew that. “Thanks for stopping by.”
He zipped up his jacket then tipped his hat, like he did every time they parted, and turned to leave. “You’re welcome to come over for dinner, if you like.”
She hesitated. Her haus was her refuge, and she took every opportunity to be there. She didn’t always feel comfortable sharing a meal with Zeb’s family. He had built his mamm and daed their own haus attached to his, which was common, but premature due to his wife passing. “I’ll be there in time to help with dinner.”
“All right, then.” He took a moment to catch her eye and lifted a hand to say good-bye.
The smell of spices filled the air as Emma walked into the kitchen. Mamm’s herbal tea was brewing on the stove. She heard Maria talking with her in the kitchen. The room was warm with humidity from pots boiling on the stove. Mamm stood over them sprinkling in some salt, and Maria cut up sausages. Emma walked to
the large picture window over the sink that opened to the cornfield.
“This is the first time I’ve been asked to go to singing.” Maria twisted a straggling lock of her reddish hair and sat down at the large wooden table. Maria’s tight lips drawn together told Emma what she needed to know to catch up with the conversation. Emma and Maria had a tight sisterhood. They shared most everything, from their hearts to their hairpins. Each knew the other like she knew herself. There was only one other person in whom Emma had ever confided in the same way.
“I understand, but you need a chaperone.” Stray, gray hair floated around her plump face as Mamm walked to the sink. She washed her hands and looked over at Emma. “You’ve been working harder than usual this morning.”
Emma didn’t want to talk about the soap in front of Maria but felt silly for her thoughts. She cherished this time with Mamm, and on top of that, doing something she liked, not a chore like mucking stalls.
“Jah, I’ll help with the noon meal.” Emma nodded and gathered the silverware, not wanting to draw attention to her work well done, partly so as not to appear prideful, but also because of the reason she was motivated. As her sister looked at her and started to speak, she knew Maria had other things on her mind.
“Emma, will you chaperone me to singing on Sunday?” Maria wrung her hands, waiting for Emma’s answer.
Emma wasn’t sure of what to say. There was obvious tension between Maria and Mamm that she didn’t want to get in the middle of. She took extra time in answering, hoping one of them would intervene before she had to. “Jah, if Mamm approves.”
Maria beamed at Emma for only a moment until Mamm lifted a hand to speak again.
“Your brother can chaperone.” Mamm had her back to them, cleaning up the kitchen from the breakfast meal. Emma knew she was trying to get Mark involved so he could feel included, but Maria must not want him to.
“Nee, Mamm. He’d ruin it somehow.”
Her sister was probably right, but what else could her parents do? They had tried everything they could think of, but nothing had improved his behavior. Mamm seemed to be weakening; it had been apparent for some time now that reasoning with him time and again was wearing her down.
“It would be nice for Mark to be with you, Maria.” Mamm never met her gaze, avoiding conflict that might arise with her answer.
Maria’s shoulders slumped, and Emma knew she had disappointed her. “I’ll ask him to be on his best behavior.” She wanted to do more than that, but it did no good to dwell on the issue. Emma wondered why her brother had changed so much when he became an adolescent. He’d always had a lot of energy, but this was more than that.
Maria huffed and went back to the counter where she was preparing the meat for stromboli. “Some are talking about rumspringa.”
She didn’t look up, just kept working as if she’d said nothing at all. Although it was considered a rite of passage, rumspringa was still frowned upon by most parents. Emma understood you couldn’t condone such a custom unless it was something you’d grown up knowing about and was accepted by the most of the Amish communities.
“Why now? Spring planting isn’t for a few more months,” Mamm asked, but continued with her work, adding the ingredients together. She stirred the mix together with more force than usual. Talk of rumspringa clearly upset her.
“A lot say they’re going.” Maria sighed. “They’re going to talk about it after singing.” She twined her fingers together as if sorry she’d said the words out loud. It seemed strange coming from her, but Maria was just passing along information. She would never leave. She was one of the many uninterested or scared to explore any place outside their community, but Emma had never felt that fear, and her interest was piqued.
Emma had heard there was a good number who said they were interested in participating in the adventure, but few actually went. It would ebb and flow. Some years they stayed on the farms and had parties; other years they would go outside the community. Emma didn’t know what this group would do, but she hoped they would go to the city. She had always wanted to see what was out there, not to live but to serve. The only obstacle was Zeb. She knew he was planning on her marrying him, but she couldn’t think about that—not now. Thank goodness she had a beau who didn’t have any interest in going. He could be a chaperone, but he would never do that, and those on the trip never appreciated anyone looking over them.
Emma went about slicing the ham and cheese while Mamm cut up the onion. As Mamm waited for the water to boil, she glanced over at Maria. “It’s early to be thinking about something that’s happening in the spring.”
“Jah, but there’s been a lot of talk lately for some reason.” Maria’s words told all. She was either fed up with her brother being in the way of things, or she really did want to go. But Emma couldn’t imagine she truly did. Maria was a gentle soul who was very content on the farm. She wouldn’t know what to do in the city, but then most Amish don’t.
Mamm’s face tightened. Her cheeks were taut and eyes dark. “I see.” When Mamm was upset, she held her tongue, lest she say something that she couldn’t take back. She didn’t have the patience to talk through the issue.
Emma and Maria waited to see which she would do at that moment.
“Emma, let’s go make the soap.” Mamm threw in two cupfuls of flour into the bowl and then wiped her hands on her apron as she walked through the mudroom. They both watched her go.
“I should have expected that. I shouldn’t even talk about it.” Maria grunted, and then gestured toward the door. “Go ahead. I’ll finish this.”
“Danke, Maria. But you know she’s only upset because she doesn’t want to lose any of us. And you would never go. She knows that.” Emma held up her hands in frustration, not sure what to do. And at that moment she felt for her mamm. She must be incredibly frustrated to hear talk about leaving, which she could see Mark doing. Mamm’s denial and her father ignoring the problem would only made things worse.
She sighed. “Jah, I just wish she would do something about Mark. He’s too hard to deal with anymore.”
“I know how you feel, but I think there’s more of a reason for his bad choices. I don’t think he can control himself like we can.”
“Like what?” Maria’s eyebrows furrowed, and she crossed her arms across her chest, clearly ready to reject whatever reason Emma presented to forgive their brother.
“I don’t know, for sure. But sometimes I see him struggling with whatever it is.” Emma was going on a hunch. She didn’t know how to explain it, and she admitted to herself that she’d lost patience with him as much as Maria had.
Maria frowned and then went back to the misty pot that was rumbling with a strong boiling hum.
Emma grabbed her coat and followed behind her mamm, who was walking too quickly to catch. Mamm’s arms swung back and forth as her short legs kept stride. The thought of having time with her and making the soap had lost its appeal. Mamm would be tight-lipped until she could get this off her chest by talking with Daed.
As she stepped into the old red barn, Emma thought about better times, before the problems had begun. Thinking back, she couldn’t figure out what had started Mark’s outbursts that had created such tension. As she watched Mamm gather the necessary supplies, her heart ached for her, for all of them. Mark was not easy to live with these days.
The cold wind moaned through the slits in the wooden sides of the barn. Emma lit a couple of gas lanterns and placed the glass chimneys over the flames. They would give light and a little warmth.
Mamm grabbed a handful of lard from a metal bucket. “Take as much as you can carry.”
Emma had wanted her mamm to show her how to make soap, but until today Maria had always gotten to it before she did. Being the oldest, Emma’s duties were greater and more demanding. She took on the role well, but sometimes she wished for the small pleasure of something different to do—something an opportunity like this provided.
She pulled up her apron and loaded it full of
the lard until it was too heavy to hold. Following her mamm, she dumped the lard in a large kettle. “How much do we need?”
Mamm’s mood lightened, and they both started enjoying the project at hand.
“Six pounds of lard, two and a half pints of water, and one pound of lye will make plenty to last awhile. We’ll have enough to sell at the Weaver’s store too.”
Zeb’s parents owned a small store and had a produce stand by the road. Emma would offer to help when he took his turn selling the goods they grew and raised.
Emma heated the kettle, and when it started to boil, she stirred the mixture. Once it melted, they weighed it.
“Now we let it cool, put the lye in with the water, and then let it set.”
While they waited for it to cool, Emma watched the fluffy clouds glide by and thought about Zeb. He was good to her— never raised his voice—and worked hard for his aging parents. There was no reason to discount him. She needed to stop thinking of wanting something—or someone—different.
Her mamm sat down next to her. “What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing, really.” She could hear what her mamm would say and her rebuttal, so what was the point of talking?
“Are you happy?”
“Jah, sure.” Their marriage would tie Zeb’s land and her daed’s land together, making the largest farm in the community. It wasn’t something she could protest even if she wanted to. She could be happy there.
“Gut. You will be glad you have it all behind and settle in.” Mamm turned away and went to check the lard.
They went about cleaning up and put away the extra lard and lye while they waited. “Ready for the lye?” Emma took the lye over to the kettle with the lard.
“Jah, then just stir until it’s thick and coats the paddle in sheets.” Mamm prepared the table to put the soap on to cut into bars. She laid a frame of squares they would fill with the melted soap, and then stood back to admire their work. “You’re good at this, Emma.”
“Adding some color into them would be nice. Like sky blue, green as the corn stalks, or yellow like the sun.” Emma pictured the various hues she could add into the white soap.
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