by Sarah Price
But, rather than say that, Steve merely took a deep breath and nodded. “Ja, some comfort there, I’m sure,” he said.
Three young women, dressed in black dresses with white aprons, walked by. As they did, Stephen Esh glanced at the taller of the two and gave a soft smile. Steve followed his gaze and, for the briefest of moments, he frowned. He recognized the one woman but couldn’t place from where he knew her. Her eyes flickered toward Steve and he thought she recognized him, too. Yet, the crowd was too large and the situation too uncomfortable for Steve to pursue her and ask for her name.
Instead, he turned to Stephen and, with a nod of his head in the direction of the women, whispered, “Who was that?”
Stephen followed his gaze. When he saw the three women, the younger one looked back and smiled, a soft and appropriate smile, given the situation. “Ach, Priscilla? She’s my girl.” He paused. “Priscilla Smucker.”
Steve shook his head. “Nee, the other one.”
“Vell, that would be her older sister, Annie, and the other one is Annie’s friend, Mimi Hostetler.” He looked back at Steve and raised an eyebrow. “You know them?”
“Nee,” he said. “Not directly. But I reckon I ran into Mimi at the store.” He turned his attention back to his friends. “Had some vandals break a window in my barn. Needed to replace the glass.”
“Ja, that would be her, then,” Jonas said. For a moment, Jonas studied Steve’s face. “She’s my cousin, you know. On my mamm’s side.”
Steve tried to appear nonchalant. “You don’t say, ja?”
“Works for her daed,” he affirmed. Then, a sparkle in his eye, Stephen lowered his voice and whispered. “Nice girl. Ain’t married, you know.”
Steve leaned forward and lowered his own voice. “Ain’t asking, you know.”
The three men stifled a quiet laugh, too aware that this was neither the appropriate time nor place to be joking. After all, they had all come together to support Menno Yoder and his family as they celebrated the fact that, despite being missed after such an unfortunate tragedy, Martha Yoder now resided in the glory of the Lord.
Little Katie stood in the kitchen, her back against the wall. Her mamm was busy helping the other women and her older cousins were watching the younger children, keeping them occupied outside. But Katie didn’t want to go outside. She wanted to be near her mamm. Ever since she had heard about the accident with Martha Yoder, Katie had barely let her mamm out of her sight.
She hadn’t met Martha Yoder but she sure knew Melvin Yoder. A few times, Katie had been over at Leah’s, playing with her cousins outside. Melvin had been there. After all, his daed’s farm was right next door, just a stone’s throw from the swing by the pond.
And that was what Katie thought about…Melvin witnessing his mamm getting killed by the baling machine. They were close in age so Katie found it easy to shut her eyes and imagine how he felt. There was only one word that could sum it up: lost.
Katie would feel lost without her mamm. Katie would feel lost among these people. Katie would feel lost with having been the last person to see her mamm smile and laugh…and breathe. Tears welled into her eyes and she fought the urge to cry. Turning her face away from the crowd, she leaned her forehead against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut. I will not cry, I will not cry, she told herself.
“Are you all right, Katie?”
The voice in her ear sounded so familiar. When she turned around, she was surprised to see her aunt, Mary Ruth. “Ja,” she sniffled. “I’m fine.” She had heard that Mary Ruth was staying with Leah. She had seen Mary Ruth fluttering around the kitchen and helping to wash dishes, clear plates, and tend to the needs of the guests. But she hadn’t thought that Mary Ruth would notice her.
“You want to talk?”
“Nee,” Katie said, trying to put on a brave face. “I’m just fine,” she repeated.
“You don’t look fine,” Mary Ruth said softly, leaning down to wipe the remnant of a tear from her face. “Mayhaps you should sit down for a spell, ja?” Without waiting for an answer, Mary Ruth took her arm and led her over to the place where Melvin sat. “Keep each other company in your sorrow,” she whispered.
And then Mary Ruth was gone.
Katie sat next to Melvin, the one person in the room whom she did not wish to sit next to. She worried that she didn’t know what to say to him and her words would get jumbled. She worried that her tears would upset him and that would surely get her in trouble with the adults, but even worse, she worried that death would be contagious and, Lord have mercy, strike her own mamm.
“You OK?” she said softly, surprised to hear the words come out of her mouth.
“Nee,” he replied. A short and simple answer that expressed the dearth of despair in his heart. Nee.
“I’m terribly sorry about your mamm,” she offered, forcing herself to lift her eyes and meet his sad gaze. She was afraid to look at him, afraid to be near him. What if his mamm’s death was contagious? Still, despite her fears, she was drawn to Melvin and wanted to be a friend to him.
Melvin didn’t seem to notice her reluctance. The little boy shrugged. “I’m supposed to be happy that she’s with the Lord.”
It sounded weak, even as he said it. They both knew it was the right thing to say, but neither could believe it.
“Are you?”
“Am I what?” he asked.
“Happy that she’s with the Lord?”
He met her gaze. For the longest moment, he couldn’t answer her. It seemed as though he was thinking but was gaining strength from both her question, her presence and her stare. Finally, he took a deep breath and exhaled. “Nee, Katie Fisher ,” he said. “Nee, I’m not happy. In fact, I’m angry that the Lord would take my mamm away from me. I don’t understand it and I don’t understand what people are saying to me. I miss her.” He paused and moved his eyes to stare down at his feet. Then, in the softest voice, almost inaudible, he whispered, “I want her back.”
For a moment, she thought she hadn’t heard him. She had to repeat the words to herself. I want her back. Katie chewed on her lower lip. Yes, she had heard him say those very words. Four simple words that said so much about how he felt. She didn’t blame him. After all, that’s how she figured she would feel if something horrible happened to her own mamm, even if she hadn’t been there to witness it. Yes, she would certainly feel plenty confused, a lot bitter, and a whole heap of loneliness. She reached her hand out and touched his. To her surprise, he let her hold his soft hand in hers.
“Melvin Yoder,” she said softly. “I do understand.”
Rachel sat for a long time, sitting in her reading chair, an old plush rocking chair that creaked ever so slightly when it rolled backward. The kerosene lantern that hung overhead hissed as it flung its bright light throughout the room. On her lap was her Bible but she simply couldn’t open it tonight. Instead, she just held it, feeling her strength return just from the mere touch of its worn, faded leather cover.
Her heart ached for the Yoder family. It had been a grueling few days. She shut her eyes and silently prayed for Menno and his children. It would be a rough road ahead of Menno, especially with small children that needed tending to. There would be laundry and cooking, gardening and canning. The community would help, as much as they could, that was for sure and certain. But it would still be very stressful for the family.
She was proud of Mary Ruth for having helped with the young boy. As the youngest child in the family, Mary Ruth was used to being taken care of, it seemed to Rachel…much more than caring for others. The compassion that Mary Ruth demonstrated at the Yoders was a small blessing in this sorrowful event.
She shut her eyes. Tomorrow was another day. Lydia would finally help her with the chickens and it was another laundry day. On a farm, there was never a break in the work routine. It continued, whether or not life stopped around it. At least it was something that could be counted on, she thought to herself. The routine of farm life, however demanding.
&n
bsp; With a big sigh, she glanced over at her husband. He was seated in the chair next to her, the Budget newspaper in his hands. “Think I’ll be turning in for the night, Elijah,” she whispered. “Need a good night’s sleep for tomorrow.”
He nodded. “I’ll be up shortly,” he said. “Need to finish my reading.”
She smiled. “You and your Budget!”
He smiled at her. “You have your circle letters to keep you in touch with everyone and I have my Budget to keep updated on plantings, crops, and other news.”
Walking over to him, she placed her hand on his shoulder. He paused and looked up at her. Then, setting the paper down, he reached for her hand. For a long moment, he held it, staring at her. The only noises were the hiss from the kerosene lantern and the gentle ticking of the old clock on the wall. It had been a gift from Elijah to Rachel when there were married.
Rachel studied Elijah’s face. It was weathered and wrinkled from working in the sun. Over the years, his beard had grown long enough to touch his chest and the brown hairs were now sprinkled with grey. But he was still the handsome man who used to court her with a sparkling new buggy, one that caused the bishop to raise an eyebrow while the community wagged their tongues.
“It was a tough few days,” she whispered.
He nodded his head but he didn’t speak.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said softly.
He shut his eyes as he gave another stiff nod of his head. “Don’t,” he replied. He looked up at her then, his eyes tired and concerned. She realized that he, too, had been affected by Martha Yoder’s death. He tried to act stoic and strong, but in that moment, she saw that he had visualized himself in Menno’s place. Clearly, the thought had left him frightened, but as soon as she saw the concern in his face, he released her hand and, as he cleared his throat, Elijah turned his attention back to the Budget.
Rachel could tell that he wasn’t reading. Perhaps he hadn’t been reading at all that evening. It touched her that he, too, was so wrapped up in the tragedy that had befallen the Yoder family. It was comforting to know that she was not alone in feeling fear in God’s decision to take Martha Yoder home at such a young age. She also suspected that, like her, Elijah was also praying for guidance on how to help that family through the upcoming weeks and months.
With a deep breath, she set her Bible on the seat of her chair and turned to leave the room. The Yoder family suffered, but alongside them, the entire community was feeling their pain. It would take a long time for them to heal and move on with their lives. Of that, she was sure and certain.
Chapter Three: Leah’s Letter
Dear Family,
With so much happening in our district, I near forgot to write. Sister Rachel was kind enough to remind me several times this week that I needed to write a letter and continue the circle letter. Figured I best do it before a fourth reminder came my way.
Mary Ruth has been such a blessing to us, helping not just with the kinner while I tend to Jacob’s needs but helping with the Yoder family as they adjust to life without Martha.
Rachel set up a community schedule for women to help with the daily chores, especially cooking. Mary Ruth has been taking the kinner during the day. Between watching my Elmer, Edna, Emma, and Caleb as well as the Yoder kinner, she sure has her hands full. I’m pleased to see such a motherly instinct developing in her after all.
Church Sunday is only three weeks away and I’m sure looking forward to having the entire family here. Jonah has been working from before sunrise to well after sunset to make certain the barn is fixed and proper. It’s too hot to have the service in the house. He also has to cut and bale the hay before then, something we are all apprehensive about these days, given the terrible accident at Yoder’s farm.
Was sorry to hear about the vandalism at Steve’s farm. I sure hope that cow is better and the window fixed. Such sad times that we live in.
Not much else to add to the news so I will send the letter onto James’ Lizzie so that I’m not holding up the circle anymore.
May the good Lord bless each of you and your families.
Leah
Leah tossed the pen onto the table and quickly folded the letter. She shoved it into an envelope and pushed in the other two letters, the one from Rachel and the original one from Mamm along with the list of addresses. She didn’t care if they crinkled. Get this out of here so Rachel stops asking me about it, she thought as she licked the envelope and dropped it on the table. She’d ask Elmer to run it to the mailbox later that evening. She just hoped that she wouldn’t forget.
Circle letters, she thought. Who has time for writing letters, especially since everyone would be at her house in just a few short weeks! She had far too much to do with tending to the house, the garden, and baby Jacob. His needs were so great and her time was too short for such trivial things as letters. Silly idea, she told herself as she stood up and hurried over to the kitchen to start preparing for the noon meal. Jonah would be hungry, that was for sure and certain. He had been cleaning the barn all morning, even after tending to the cows.
Leah sighed and looked out the window over the kitchen sink. Truth was that Jonah had been spending a lot more time in the barn, period. Ever since Jacob had been born, she thought wryly. It didn’t take much for her to realize that Jonah was none to pleased with his special needs baby, a son at that. He rarely helped the baby, never spoke to him, and just didn’t seem to acknowledge that the baby excited.
Prayer hadn’t helped, that was for certain. Leah prayed constantly for the strength to cope with this challenge. Yes, Jacob had that Down Syndrome. Yes, it was one of the more extreme cases that the doctors had seen. But God was good and never gave more than people could handle. Leah believed that with her entire heart.
There were footsteps on the porch and Leah looked up as Mary Ruth hurried into the mudroom from outside. “Headed over to Yoder’s then, are you?” she called out.
“Ja,” Mary Ruth replied, her voice flat and emotionless.
“You take that shoofly pie now, you hear?” After all, Leah thought, I only got up extra early to make it for the Yoder family. Leave it to Mary Ruth to forget it.
“Ja,” Mary Ruth said, this time with a tone to her voice.
“I’ll send the kinner when they are done with their meal,” Leah added, ignoring Mary Ruth’s testiness and spiteful glare. There was nothing for her younger sister to be upset about, she told herself. Helping others was God’s calling. That’s what community did…helped each other during time of crisis. Leah only wished there were far fewer crisis in the community these days.
Reluctantly, Mary Ruth walked along the road that headed to Menno Yoder’s farm. It was more direct and much quicker to cut through the field, that was true, but she wasn’t looking for either direct or quick. Not today. Each footstep felt heavy and burdensome, as though she was carrying a great weight down the road, not just a freshly baked shoofly pie.
She wasn’t certain how she had been nominated for this job. Sister Rachel was the one that volunteered her to help the Yoder family. But no one had consulted with her directly. Mary Ruth was annoyed about that. First, she had been sent to Leah’s to help with the kinner. Now, she was being sent next door to help with Menno’s kinner. All she wanted was to return home to her regular routine, not help with all of these children.
It had been two weeks since Martha Yoder’s funeral. The last place that Mary Ruth wanted to be was at the Yoder’s house. It had been depressing before, even with all of those people there for the funeral. Not even busying herself in helping with the kitchen work or cleanup could erase the feeling of despair that hung in the air. Despite two weeks having passed, Mary Ruth couldn’t imagine what awaited her at the house today.
While it only took fifteen minutes to walk there, it felt like an eternity. Yet, she wished it had taken even longer. Her heart pounded and her hands felt sweaty. Walking up the driveway, she noticed that the yard was overgrown and in great need of a mowing. The c
ows were still in the barn. No one had set them out to graze. Mary Ruth frowned. She sure hoped they had been milked. As she passed the barn, she glanced inside and noticed the milk pales by the door. They were in need of being washed but there was fresh milk on the sides. That’s gut, she thought, as she headed toward the house.
“Hello?” she called out as she opened the door.
To her surprise, the house seemed relatively clean. Leah had told her that the church district had rotated women to help with the house and kinner until it was decided that Mary Ruth would step in, being next door and without her own family and home to tend. Just until Menno got back on his feet, Leah had said. Mary Ruth sure hoped that would be right quick!
“Hello?” she called out again as she set the shoofly pie on the counter.
“Who’s there?” a gruff male voice called out from upstairs.
“Mary Ruth Fisher ,” she replied, looking around the kitchen. It was too clean. “My sisters sent me to help today.”
“Don’t need no help!” The voice seemed to boom down the stairwell. There was no denying the anger and resentment in his voice. Two weeks had clearly not even begun to touch the healing process, she thought and sighed.
She sensed a movement behind her and turned, surprised to see the children staring at her from the stairwell. They wore blank expressions and dirty clothes. “Did you eat this morning?” she asked point blank.
Four heads shook from side to side.
As suspected, she thought. At least she knew what her first order of business would be. Feed the children now, deal with the angry father later. “Let me make you something to eat then,” she said and hurried to the refrigerator to pull out some eggs and milk. “You can set the table while I cook.”
