Where Love Grows

Home > Other > Where Love Grows > Page 17
Where Love Grows Page 17

by Jerry S. Eicher


  Benny made a face at first but soon joined in the laughter. Susan gave up and retreated upstairs. Let their daetts come down and tell them to quiet down if they wanted to. She had done her part. Boys this age weren’t exactly controllable by someone they considered little more than an older sister.

  In the kitchen again, Susan heard her daett’s name mentioned. She walked to the kitchen opening and listened. Several of the young girls looked at her, and she whispered, “They’re talking about my daett.”

  That seemed to satisfy them. They would also want to listen if their daetts were being discussed at pre-communion church. Only people in trouble were personally talked about on this day, so Susan’s daett must be in deep, deep trouble.

  Susan’s attention perked up as she listened to the Bishop.

  It has been revealed to us that Menno Hostetler has a son in the Englisha world. We can tell you that Menno, along with his wife, went to Deacon Ray to confess this sin. An action of repentance for which we are quite grateful. But what is troubling to us is that Menno did not reveal this matter prior to the Englisha man making himself known to the community and revealing this sin in such a public fashion.

  The revelation has brought great shame upon all of us, and has placed our testimony to the outside world in question. As the ministry, we do not believe this matter can be ignored. Although Menno has straightened this matter out with Da Hah and his wife, it has now become a matter for the community to deal with.

  I don’t need to remind any of you that we are all a community. What affects one of us, affects us all. Perhaps this is a gut lesson to be reminded of. And that sin cannot be covered forever. Da Hah will see that it is revealed and laid before the eyes of all to see. We as the ministry believe that Menno has been in grave sin all these years by hiding this matter from us.

  With that in mind, it is our decision to refuse communion to Brother Menno when we observe it in two weeks. And we also believe it would be best if some further punishment were given in order that all may know the seriousness of this sin. Accordingly, we have taken counsel together as the ministry. Deacon Ray spoke with Menno and Anna last night about this.

  Susan held her breath. So this was what that visit had been about. She’d guessed right, but both Daett and Mamm had refused to say a word about the matter.

  Bishop Henry continued.

  Sister Anna has requested that she also be included in this punishment, which at first glance seemed unnecessary to us. But upon further consideration, we see her point. She has lived with Menno all these years and has admitted that at times she wanted to ask him about his past life but chose not to. What these reasons were, we did not think necessary to inquire into. It is enough that Anna wishes to share in her husband’s punishment because she is his frau.

  “Is it something terrible?” one of the younger girls whispered in Susan’s ear.

  Susan nodded, pressing back her tears.

  Bishop Henry was clearing his throat again.

  It is the decision of the ministry that Menno Hostetler be put on a six-week bann. During this time he is to have no communion or fellowship with the community. Menno and Anna are to be seen by all as having been placed outside the church. We are to accept nothing in material or spiritual aid from either of them. If they should pass over to the other side during this time, we pray only for their souls. We ask that Da Hah would understand the special circumstances and will have mercy on both of them. So let us now vote on this matter, as well as on having communion in two weeks.

  Low sobs came from the living room. A few women’s voices were raised in agony.

  Susan heard the shuffling of feet. Deacon Ray and the other ministers would be going around the aisles and asking each member for his or her vote. Clutching the doorjamb, Susan tried to stay upright. It wouldn’t do any gut to go crashing across the floor in a dead faint. She’d known this was coming.

  What was Teresa going to say about all this? She was in there, and she didn’t understand their ways yet. Still, she had to vote, and she loved Daett. What if she objected? “Oh, dear Da Hah, help her,” Susan whispered, turning to find a chair at the kitchen table. “Why didn’t I go over to her place last night and talk with her?” But perhaps James would have told Teresa, if he had thought of the matter.

  “What’s happening to your daett?” the same concerned girl was back, standing a few inches from Susan’s knees.

  “Something awful,” Susan managed. “Daett sinned years ago, and he didn’t confess it to the community.”

  “He has an Englisha son,” the girl said, more statement than question. Obviously she knew already. “How could your daett have done something like that?”

  “It was before he was baptized,” Susan said. Hopefully that would satisfy, but the girl wasn’t moving away.

  “My daett didn’t do anything like that before he was baptized.”

  “I know,” Susan said, trying to smile. “And you can thank Da Hah he didn’t.”

  The girl nodded and then disappeared to her chore. Susan turned to the implications of the bann. Mamm and Daett were being thrown out into the darkness to walk without the blessing of the church for six weeks. Why was there bitterness and anger rising up in her heart? Thankfully she hadn’t spoken those words to the young girl. That would have been awful indeed. Perhaps she was feeling anger because she had been out in the Englisha world herself, becoming polluted by their way of thinking. Out there, being obedient and compliant wasn’t the way people lived.

  Susan walked over to the kitchen sink and offered to help dry the dishes. A girl handed her a towel, and Susan forced herself not to listen to the murmur of voices in the living room. Instead, memories floated in her mind. Visions of Laura and the bakery shop. Of laughing and joking with Robby and the time they ran along the shores of the ocean at Asbury Park after dark. Of sitting on the sand watching the moon rise over the ocean with the wind blowing in their hair. How free it had all felt, and how different from this life.

  No one here knew all the things she had done. Were they sins? The thought jolted her. Was the day coming when she would need to confess what had happened before she was baptized? All of a sudden, she had to leave. She dropped the dishcloth and dashed outside. The children playing in the yard looked up as she went by and headed for the barn. She stopped halfway there. She couldn’t go there. That was where the young boys gathered to talk, telling their stories after lunch until it was time to go home. Where else was there to go? Turning toward the line of buggies, she saw theirs. Almost running there, she climbed inside and pulled the buggy robe over her head. This is foolish, she told herself. But let it be foolish. So what if someone saw her? Let them think what they wanted. Daett and Mamm were inside being excommunicated. This felt like a winter night’s nightmare. Dreams she had suffered through as a child. Night torments of bears chasing her in the woods. Huge fish that came leaping out of ponds with their mouths wide open, sharp teeth bared to sink into her skin. Screaming hadn’t been an option then, and screaming wasn’t an option now either.

  Susan controlled herself, breathing slower. She thought about Teresa. The poor girl. What had she said when asked to vote? If Teresa objected to the excommunication, they would no doubt have Deacon Ray over the next Saturday night for a visit.

  Susan placed her hand on her mouth. She had to think sanely about this. James was Teresa’s husband, and Deacon Ray was James’s father. They would have thought of this very thing, and Teresa would have been warned. She had to have been. Neither James nor Deacon Ray were that careless.

  Sobbing, Susan stayed under the blanket. The buggy door was tightly shut, but she peeked out once in a while to see if church had been dismissed. When the men spilled out into the yard, she pushed the blanket down, dried her tears, and marched back toward the house.

  As she neared the washroom door, it burst open and Steve came out.

  “There you are!” Steve exclaimed. “I was looking for you.”

  “For me?”

&nbs
p; “We’ll make it through this, Susan.” Steve took both of her hands in his. “Just be strong and don’t get bitter. It will come out right in the end.”

  “Why do you care?” Susan asked, amazed that right there in front of everyone he’d taken her hands.

  “I work for your daett. Of course I care.”

  But Steve cared about more than Daett. She could see it in his eyes. He cared about her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Susan wiped her eyes as she stood in the washroom listening to the women moving around in the kitchen. She shoved her handkerchief back into her dress pocket. Mamm would likely be in worse shape than she was, as would Teresa. She needed to be with them instead of out here nursing her own pain. Her privacy wouldn’t last long anyway. Soon some young girl would come bursting through the washroom door and catch her crying.

  Susan opened the door slowly. The kitchen was packed with unmarried girls preparing to serve the adult tables. Keeping her head down, Susan made her way through, catching a glimpse of Teresa seated on a bench in the living room. She had her face in her hands and her shoulders were shaking.

  James’s mamm was seated beside Teresa, speaking in a low voice so Susan couldn’t make out what was being said. Bishop Henry’s wife was standing beside them, her hand on Teresa’s shoulder.

  Susan took a deep breath. Clearly Teresa was distraught. But she must have voted to follow the church leadership’s recommendation, otherwise the two women wouldn’t be comforting her. Or perhaps James found a way for Teresa to excuse herself.

  Susan gasped as Mamm and Daett came out from the back bedroom where they must have fled. They had their heads bowed as they walked to a small bench table set apart against a wall. Taking their places across from each other, they waited as others filled the long main tables. Silence settled over the house as Bishop Henry got to his feet and announced the prayer.

  Bishop Henry’s voice trembled. “And now that we are gathered again to eat, let us bow our heads and give thanks.”

  Susan closed her eyes, the tears stinging again. Bishop Henry completed the prayer, and Susan slipped onto the bench beside Teresa, placing her arm around her friend’s shoulder. The sobbing started again. Long moments passed as Susan held Teresa close, the dinner conversation rising and falling around them.

  “You should have gone to the table,” Susan whispered.

  “I can’t eat anything,” Teresa choked out, muffling her cry with her handkerchief. “This is awful. Why are Mamm and Daett sitting over there by themselves?”

  “Didn’t James tell you what was going to happen?”

  “The voting, yes. James said to say I wasn’t objecting, but he didn’t say anything about them having to eat alone.”

  “It’s the way it’s done,” Susan said. “They are separate from us now, and we can’t eat with them until it’s over in six weeks.”

  Teresa stared at Susan for a few minutes before whispering, “I’m coming over tonight to visit. Surely that’s allowed.”

  Susan nodded.

  “James will come with me. I know he will.”

  “Some of my sisters will be coming too, I’m sure. But we’ll all just sit around and cry. Are you sure you want to be part of that?”

  “I’m a part of whatever’s happening with your family.”

  “You’re way too sweet.” Susan gave Teresa a quick hug. “Now, let me get you on the next table. You have to eat something.”

  Teresa didn’t protest as they stood together and waited as the first meal neared a close.

  “I’m glad Mom wasn’t here today to see this,” Teresa whispered. “James found her a nice little place to rent in Livonia, and she’s settled in. She bought a car this week and found a job in Salem at the little Christian bookstore. I think her connections with the Amish helped.”

  “Maybe so. I think the Englisha admire us…in spite of our imperfections,” Susan said, glancing over at Mamm and Daett still seated at the little table.

  Bishop Henry rose to announce the final prayer for the meal. However much it hurt inside her, the pain had to be even greater in Mamm’s heart.

  Teresa clung to Susan’s arm as Bishop Henry began the prayer. With her head bowed, Susan dared to peek again at Mamm and Daett. They looked so calm, so at peace with what was happening. Not at all like she had expected. How had they found such grace while she was so torn up? Mamm must be burning up inside from the shame, yet on the outside she was serene. And communion would be in two weeks. For the first time that she could remember, Mamm and Daett wouldn’t participate. This knowledge must even now be tearing at their hearts. And ahead of them lay six more weeks of this. Tonight they would probably weep in each other’s arms. But they would also keep presenting accepting faces during the day like they were now. Committed to enduring what Da Hah had seen fit to send their way.

  At least Mamm was standing with Daett. That was much to be thankful for. She didn’t have to. No one would have blamed or required it of her. What a heart of gold Mamm had. Such love for Daett that went beyond mere feelings. Mamm knew what Daett had done in his youth. How could she do this?

  Could she, Susan Hostetler, ever so love a man? Had she not failed completely with Thomas? Perhaps if she had been more understanding of his faults she wouldn’t have left for the Englisha world or driven him away. Feeling the tears sting again, she wiped them away as Bishop Henry came to the end of his prayer.

  “Come,” Susan said, pushing the dark thoughts away and taking Teresa by the arm. “You’re going to sit down and eat with me because I haven’t eaten either.”

  Teresa followed and they sat at a table Susan chose for them. They waited as the young girls cleaned it off.

  “I need coffee,” Teresa muttered, “to brace my soul.”

  “I think I do too,” Susan agreed. “It takes coffee on a day like this.”

  They looked at each other and then quickly looked away. They both turned to look at Mamm as she walked past them toward the kitchen. Alone. The women she passed nodded to her, but no one spoke.

  “I hate this,” Teresa whispered. “I want to scream.”

  “It will pass like all our troubles eventually do,” Susan whispered back. “That’s what we tell each other, and it usually works.”

  “How did I ever get accepted into the community with baby Samuel, when your mamm and daett get treated like this for doing the same thing I did?”

  “They look at things differently once you’re a church member.”

  Bishop Henry’s voice interrupted them, announcing prayer again, and they bowed their heads. Susan watched Teresa out of the corner of her eye. She seemed to be collecting herself well. When the prayer was over, Teresa spread butter on a piece of bread and then added the peanut butter with slow motions of her hand.

  None of the girls on either side offered conversation. By the looks of things, they were wrapped up in their own talk. They meant no disrespect, Susan figured, but were giving Teresa and her space. And for that she was thankful. When they had finished eating, Susan whispered, “I have to go. Daett’s been waiting for me to finish, I think.”

  “I’ll see you tonight then,” Teresa said, forcing a smile.

  Sure enough, when she got to her feet, Daett made his way outside. He picked up his hat by the front door and pulled it low over his eyes. Mamm was already in the mudroom looking for her bonnet when Susan arrived.

  “Let me help you, Mamm,” Susan said.

  Mamm nodded, swallowing hard.

  Susan searched for both of their shawls. When she found them, she helped Mamm slip hers around her shoulders. Mamm was no child and knew how to pull on her own shawl, but right now she looked frail and weak. Susan took her arm and helped her through the washroom door and down the steps. Daett hadn’t driven up yet. He was still out by the buggy getting the horse under the shafts. Should she wait here or walk out to the barnyard? Susan looked to Mamm, but she wasn’t much help. She wasn’t saying anything or looking at anyone. They would walk over, Sus
an decided.

  A few of the little girls waved and smiled as they went past. That would all change by next week. Right now they didn’t know what sitting at a small table by yourself meant. Someone would soon tell them and whisper of the pain felt by a soul cast out to wander in the darkness for sins they had committed. Now they only saw what they had always seen. Susan and her mamm going past. People they had always looked up to.

  Susan helped Mamm climb into the front seat before she pushed in the tug on her side. Daett wasn’t looking at her, and his hat was still pulled low over his eyes. He wouldn’t cry, she supposed. He would save his tears for the haymow or his times alone with Mamm.

  “I’m sorry, Daett,” Susan said across the shafts and Toby’s back.

  He nodded and threw the lines into the buggy, still not looking at her. She climbed into the back of the buggy while he pulled himself up the front step. They drove past the walk by the washroom door. They were the first buggy to leave. This was as it should be. Such pain could only be borne to a certain point.

  The little girls waved again, shouting out “Bye!” The sound was faint above the clatter of the buggy wheels.

  “I’m sorry you had to see this day,” Daett said, giving a brief glance over his shoulder toward Susan. “I can never say how sorry I am for putting you and the rest of the girls through this. If you want to leave home tonight for the Englisha world, Susan, I would understand.”

  Mamm gasped in the front seat. “Don’t speak such awful things, Menno. This day is bad enough without losing Susan yet.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Susan responded.

  Daett didn’t seem to hear her, but Mamm gave a sigh of relief.

  “Anna,” Daett started slowly, “I can never say how very sorry I am for what I’ve done, and now you’re bearing the burden with me. I wish you wouldn’t have chosen this path. It wasn’t necessary. I could have walked this road alone.”

 

‹ Prev