Smicksburg Tales 1,2 & 3 (Amish Knitting Circle, Amish Friends Knitting Circle & Amish Knit Lit Cirlce ~ Complete Series: 888 pages for Granny Weaver Lovers and 30+ Amish Recipes

by Karen Anna Vogel

  “Well, I suppose you’re right. I just want to see them both loving and respecting each other. Ruth has such a broken heart, she’s getting nippy.”

  Ella heard more wagon wheels and looked out the window. It was Michael, dropping off Becca. Ella opened the door and even though a cold draft flew in, her heart was warmed by Becca’s embrace.

  “Danki for asking me to come.” She picked up the basket at her feet. “I made two pies, all by myself.”

  “Ach, you run circles around me,” Granny said. “Let me take them and warm them in the oven.”

  Ella looked at the clock. It was almost one. Luke and Ruth said they’d be over by noon. Zach was looking forward to shooting clay pigeons with Luke like they used to when they were boys…try to bond over old times…goot times.

  ~*~

  “There’s no need to feel guilty,” Fannie said. “Go ahead and open the chest.”

  Roman sighed. “I know, but why do I feel so nervous?”

  “Because you’re afraid. When you open that, all the memories you held dear with Abby will come back…but she’s not here. You might miss her more.”

  Roman took Fannie’s hand. “How’d you grow up so fast? I remember when you came as a mamm’s helper, but now you’re a…woman.”

  “Jah, I was fourteen when Jenny was born and I remember running for diapers when Abigail called. Seems like yesterday.”

  “Seems like a lifetime ago to me. Raising these girls alone has been hard.”

  “Thank the goot Lord you have your mamm.”

  “I am thankful, but the girls need a real mamm.” His eyes locked with hers, but she looked away.

  “Are you ready?” Fannie asked.

  They both reached for the latch of the chest and his hand rested on hers. He felt heat rise like a schoolboy. Why?

  Fannie opened the chest, and laying on the top was an old phonebook. She gently opened it to find pressed wildflowers. She lifted one up. “The petals look like butterfly wings.”

  Roman felt oddly peaceful. He remembered how much Abby loved to press purple flowers. This was a craft his girls could easily learn. “I should have opened this before. I’ll show the girls the flowers and tell them how their mamm did this.”

  Fannie gasped. “Her knitting loom! Ach, Roman. Your girls will treasure this always, like Becca does her Oma’s.”

  Roman took the knitting loom and ran his fingers over the smooth oak wood. Abby’s opa had made her this loom; another treasure for his girls. A stab of guilt ran through him. It was selfish to not open this chest sooner; he was protecting his heart, but what about the hearts of his daughters? They needed to know more about their mamm.

  Soon Fannie handed him a floral quilted journal. He put up his hand. “I can’t read that.”

  She put a hand on her hip. “Ach, yes, you can. I bet you’ll find Abby loved someone before you, and all this guilt over having loved Lizzie on your wedding day is sheer nonsense. Maybe she left part of her heart back home in Volant, too.”

  Roman knew Abby had courted other fellows before him. Was Fannie right? He took the journal.

  ~*~

  Ella heard a bang on the door and jumped with a start. She hadn’t heard a buggy pull up. She ran to the side door and saw Luke, Ruth, and Micah. “Our buggy slipped on some ice and we lost a wheel. A nice Englisher gave us a ride,” Luke said, dusting the snow off his black wool hat.

  “Where’s the buggy now?” Zach asked.

  “Well, it happened over by Rueben Byler’s and they said they’d shoe the horse for me. Just need to pick her up.”

  “That was kind,” Ella said. “Take off your coats and hang them on the pegboard. We need to eat before the food gets cold.”

  “Sorry I couldn’t help,” Ruth said, head down.

  “Jah, it’s embarrassing to come empty handed,” Luke added sarcastically, “but Ruth can’t make pies like yours anyhow, Ella.”

  Ruth continued to look down and Ella felt Luke’s eyes on her.

  “Luke, why not sit down at the table?” she asked, evenly. She was relieved when he nodded and headed toward the table. She led Ruth into the utility room and took her by the chin and looked in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “We’ve been fighting all day. I burnt a pie and he ridiculed me, then when the horse lost its shoe, I told him it needed looked at last week. I did tell him that but he doesn’t pay attention.” She tucked stray brown hair into her kapp. “I’m sick of him.”

  Ella flinched at the coldness in Ruth’s jet black eyes. Was her heart broken beyond repair, like she’d said? She led Ruth out to the table; Ruth did not sit by Luke, but slid on the bench next to Granny.

  ~*~

  “Well, I can still shoot clay pigeons better than yinz ‘boys’,” Jeb said with a snicker. “Ach, hunting and fishing, it makes me feel whole.”

  “You say Deborah encourages you to fish?” Luke asked. “Hunt too?”

  “It’s important to me. Of course she does.” He cleared his throat. “That’s what love is…putting the others needs before your own.”

  “Well, Ruth doesn’t encourage me to do anything but work and fix stuff around the house.”

  “Do you encourage her to do anything?” Zach snapped.

  “Jah, the knitting circle she goes to.”

  “Ach, remember, I insisted she go.”

  Jeb readjusted his black wool hat. “Hey, there’s times when Deborah gives all the encouragement because of my blind side, but she doesn’t keep a record of wrongs, like the Good Book says to do.” He stroked his long gray beard. “Luke, what made you marry Ruth?”

  Luke’s eyes grew round. “We dated since I was sixteen and she was fifteen. It was only right that we got married when we were older.”

  “But why’d you pick her? There’re lots of girls at singings. What made you go up to her and ask her to go riding after a singing?”

  “I didn’t. She asked me.”

  Jeb coughed to hide laughter. “Okay, so she asked you. What made you say yes?”

  “I don’t know. She’s kind of pretty, although quiet.”

  “So she was quiet, yet she asked you to go riding? So you liked her tenacity?”

  “Jah, maybe I liked how daring she was. Over the years I’ve tried to tame her, though.”

  Zach sighed. “Say what?”

  “She’s too outspoken. I’m taming her.”

  “You’re breaking her spirit…”

  Jeb put his hand on Zach’s shoulder. “Luke, Deborah’s as spunky as they come. I loved that about her since the day we met. It’s her God given personality.”

  Luke’s eyes were as round and big as wagon wheels. “What if she tries to rule over me?”

  “Okay, now I think we’re finding the root to your iron fist,” Zach said. “You’re afraid if you give an inch she’ll take a yard?”

  “Jah, she needs to know I’m the boss and what I say goes. How else is there order in the home?”

  “By loving your wife!” Jeb shouted, surprising himself. “When I see Ruth I see a locked up bird, flying against the metal bar of a cage…the cage you’ve made for her. You need to let her fly.”

  Luke turned to go but Jeb and Zach stopped him. Jeb pulled out a leather book from his pocket. “I want you to read this. It’s a little book of scriptures and things I’ve learned over forty-some years of marriage. I wrote it out for you to use. Add to it if you want.” He sighed. “I don’t want you getting a warning from the bishop.”

  Luke looked at him with wild eyes. “A warning for what?

  “Abusing your wife. We know about the bruises on her arms.”

  Luke slammed the book to the ground, his chin quivering. “She bruises easily. I don’t hit her.”

  Jeb put his hand on his heart. “You bruise her in here, where it’s harder to heal. Now we’re your friends, but we won’t be covering for your behavior.” He picked up the book. “You read this and come to me if you have a problem.”

  Zach put his hand on Lu
ke’s shoulder. “You can come to me, too.”

  Jeb said a prayer of thanks when he saw Luke bow his head and heard him sob. He knew something deep in him, something cold and icy, was cracking and beginning to thaw.

  ~*~

  Granny watched as Fannie, and her short, red-haired English friend, Suzy, nearly skipped down the aisle at Punxsy-Mart, straight to the craft section. Granny wondered why Fannie was so chipper at four in the morning. Was she was excited to get a good deal on embroidery thread? Or did she have a secret romance going on…with her son? Granny grimaced inwardly. How many times was she going to have to cast this need to see Roman and Lizzie married on the Lord?

  She looked over at Maryann. “I’m so glad you and Becca could make it.”

  Maryann gave Granny a side hug. “I’ve been feeling better since I started that hypoglycemia diet.”

  “When? Yesterday? Ach, you need to go to the doctor, not just guess what’s wrong.”

  “Well, I feel a real change. Isn’t it kind of clear low blood sugar’s my problem?”

  “Ach, Maryann, you avoid the doctor like the plague.”

  Becca pushed past them and Maryann chided her. “Don’t act like these crazy Englishers, grabbing at things like chickens do their corn.”

  “Mamm, I’m just catching up to Fannie and Suzy.”

  Maryann turned back to Ella and Ruth. “I’ve only seen Punxsutawney packed like this on Ground Hog Day. I don’t like crowds…they make me nervous.”

  “I think it’s exciting,” Ella said, as she took Ruth’s hand to try to catch up to Becca.

  Granny noticed Lizzie stayed behind, and she offered her hand to her. “What’s ailing you, child?”

  “Nothing. Not used to all this noise, is all.”

  Granny’s eyes narrowed. “You look sad. Now what’s wrong?”

  “You’re embarrassing me,” Lizzie whispered.

  Granny told the rest of the group that she and Lizzie were going to look at cookbooks. When Lizzie protested, she gripped her hand and hauled her toward the book section. “I’m old but not daft. You’ve been crying.”

  Lizzie pulled away. “I’m coming down with a cold. I’m fine.”

  “It’s the craft season, right?” Granny said. “If you were to marry in early spring, you might be buying material for a new dress.”

  Lizzie put her head down. “I know. And I might be…”

  Granny put her hand on her heart. “Be what?”

  “Getting new material today. Melvin and I are courting and he said we’re not spring chickens anymore.”

  Granny felt a knot in her stomach, then a sharp pain. She grabbed at her middle, and felt Lizzie’s arm under hers, leading her to a bench. “Granny, are you sick?”

  “Nee, just shocked. Are you engaged to Melvin?”

  “Not yet, but we’re talking about a future together.”

  Granny stared at the magazines and then looked at Lizzie evenly. “Marriage is for a long time. Do you love Melvin?”

  Lizzie pursed her lips. “I like him a lot. He’s goot to me.”

  “Ach, Lizzie, I could say the same of my dog, Jack. Do you have romantic feelings for him?”

  “Romantic feelings died long ago.”

  Granny noticed Lizzie stiffened and her eyes looked like a wounded deer’s. She put her hand on hers. “Lizzie, what is it?”

  “Granny, I see how you and Jeb are, even after all these years. I don’t have the love in my heart to love like you do.”

  “Nonsense,” Granny said, patting Lizzie’s hand. “I see lots of love in that big heart of yours. The way you care for your daed, and how you nursed your mamm when she was ill.”

  “We’re talking about romantic love, and I’ve been…hurt over the years.”

  Granny felt heat rise in her cheeks. “You broke off the engagement with Roman and he was hurt, but moved on. It’s been eleven years since –“

  “You can’t understand what I’ve been through, Granny,” Lizzie snapped. “Now I need to get some material and embroidery thread. I won’t talk about this anymore.”

  Lizzie got up and headed toward the craft section, and Granny felt the life run out of her. What could have hurt Lizzie so badly that she hadn’t healed yet? Was she bitter toward Roman, like he’d said?

  She was so tired and wondered why she agreed to come shopping. She stared at the aisle in front of her and spied some fishing magazines and thought she’d get one for Jeb, but froze when she saw Fannie race down the magazine aisle and snatch a magazine. A glamour magazine? She cleared her throat loudly and Fannie looked her way.

  Like a child, Fannie put the magazine behind her back. “There’re great recipes in here.”

  Granny put her hand out as Fannie reluctantly gave her the magazine. She flipped through the glossy pages and gasped. “These women are half naked.” She shook her head in disgust. She heard Suzy’s voice but didn’t look up, shocked at the images in front of her. “Have they no modesty?”

  Suzy sat by Granny and looked at the pictures. “The worst part is that those women aren’t as skinny as they look. Their bodies are changed by a computer.”

  “How?” Fannie asked.

  “I can show you from my computer how it’s done.” Suzy put her nose in the magazine. “No one looks this good. Perfect body, perfect skin. It puts pressure on us women to look like them.”

  “Not if we don’t look at them,” Granny said, eying Fannie. “We’re allowed to look at magazines that are pure and beautiful and true, like the Good Book says. But this isn’t true, is it Suzy?”

  “Heavens no. And lots of women who look at them get eating disorders, starving themselves to be this ridiculously thin.”

  Granny slowly looked up at Fannie. “How long have you been looking at magazines like this?”

  Fannie’s chin quivered. “A few years now.”

  Suzy got up and put an arm around Fannie. “Is that why you’re always saying you’re fat?”

  “I don’t know…”

  Suzy led her over to a full length mirror and Granny followed. “Look in this mirror. You can see you’re not fat, right?”

  Granny watched in horror as tears welled up in Fannie’s eyes, then spilt down over her cheeks. “Nee, I don’t see I’m thin at all. I have huge hips and fat legs. Bigger than I thought.”

  Suzy took Fannie by the shoulders. “You’re coming to my place after we’re done shopping. I’ll show you how this is done and you’ll see how deceived you are. The truth will set you free.”

  ~*~

  Granny sat in her rocker, gazing up at the full moon. Another restless night, where she needed to do more casting off prayers. The wind rattled the windows and she pulled her shawl up over her shoulders. She couldn’t get the images Suzy brought up on the computer out of her mind. The before and after pictures were downright deceitful. Women’s waists where shaved down to an unnatural size and their skin was too perfect.

  Her heart sank, thinking Fannie had compared herself to these women for years. She opened her well-worn Bible to the verse that helped her feelings of insecurity in her courting days. She ran her finger down the page until she found 2 Corinthians 10:12:

  For we dare not class ourselves or compare ourselves with those who commend themselves. But they, measuring themselves by themselves, and comparing themselves among themselves, are not wise.

  She’d make Fannie memorize this verse and meditate on it until it got into her heart. Fannie needed to guard her heart, like the Good Book said.

  Granny leaned her head back and her eyes misted. She thought of the day she’d caught Jeb’s eye. He made her feel like she was the best thing since ice cream, and still did. As she aged and wrinkles etched her face, Jeb joked and told her another angel had kissed her, like they did to make Tillie and Millie’s dimples. Jeb’s love had made all fear of rejection go away. Granny knew there was healing in being loved by a good mate, like Jeb.

  She bowed her head to pray:

  Lord, I love Fannie like my
own. Speak to her heart about how beautiful she is, and if it be Your will, bring someone along who can bring healing, like my Jeb did for me…even if it’s Roman.

  And Lord, give Luke a loving heart toward Ruth. Help him get to the root of why he treats women with so much disrespect.

  I’m here casting my cares on You, Lord, because I know You care about me. I’m so thankful that our little knitting circle is getting close knit, but it seems the closer we’re spun together, the more burdens I see…Give me strength to keep encouraging the girls, as You knit our hearts together, in love.

  ~*~

  Here is a recipe you can make for Thanksgiving. Enjoy!

  Pumpkin Cheese Pie

  8 oz. cream cheese

  ¾ cup sugar

  2 Tbsp. flour

  1 tsp. cinnamon

  ¼ tsp. nutmeg

  ½ tsp. ginger

  ¼ tsp. vanilla

  3 eggs

  2 cups pumpkin puree

  Beat cream cheese, sugar and flour in a large bowl. Add remaining ingredients, and beat until smooth. Pour into pie crust and back at 350 degrees for 50-55 minutes. Pie is ready when a fork is inserted into center of pie and it comes out clean. Serve warm.

  Episode 4

  Snowflakes

  Fannie walked out of Granny’s little house, shaking her head. She seemed to be encouraging her to get to know Roman more. Why? Yes, Roman was a handsome widower, but a decade older, with three kids. Was Granny so tired of helping with the girls that she was trying to get him a wife?

  She pulled her black cape around her to shield her from the December chill and snowflakes swirling around, and walked over to Roman’s. When he greeted her at the door, she did what Granny asked.

  “Hi Roman. Your mamm said you needed help sprucing your house up.”

  Roman tilted his head to one side. “Does she think my house is dirty? I’m as clean as they come.”

  “She said you needed a woman’s touch. Anyhow, maybe we can look in Abigail’s hope chest again.”

  Roman motioned for her to come in. “I’m glad you talked me into going through her things. For three years I’ve been so selfish. The girls are going through all those pressed flowers we found and making pictures.”