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

  Sitting on the back porch, Colleen’s heart was pricked. How she longed to have peace like Ella. The woman exuded tranquility while managing so much stress, laboring extra hard in her garden, hoping their vegetable stand at the end of the driveway could make ends meet until Zach found another job. The frugal recipes Ella had shared made Colleen yearn to live off the land…off of little.

  “Mommy, what’s wrong?”

  Colleen turned to her daughter, Aurora. “Nothing. Why?”

  “You look sad. Your mouth is going down at the ends.”

  “Do I need to turn my frown upside down?”

  Aurora snuggled up on the glider next to her. “Mommy, why are we here? And when will we go home? I want to play with Maria and Kim.”

  Colleen sighed. Good question. When would they ever be home? A real home and not Forget-Me-Not Manor, as thankful as she was for the place? “Soon, Aurora. Mommy’s helping take care of the twins.”

  “The man in the barn is really nice. He said my hair’s as black as a row.”

  “What man?”

  “Like a crow, not a row,” Colleen heard a mellow voice from behind say.

  She turned to see a man who held her gaze. Was this the Hezekiah Fannie had a crush on before she met her husband? If so, she could see why. His sandy blonde hair and green eyes would make any girl swoon. But she’d learned her lesson; a handsome man could have an ugly heart.

  “Hi there. I’m Hezekiah. You must be Colleen.”

  “Yes, I’m Colleen.”

  He took off his straw hat and sat in the cedar chair across from her. “How do you like helping on a farm?”

  “I’ve only been doing it for a week, but seems like I was born for it, somehow. Can’t really explain it.”

  “Have any relatives that farmed?” he asked. “People tell me it’s in the blood.”

  “I never met my grandparents, so I don’t know.”

  Hezekiah cracked a knuckle. “Do they live in another country? You have an accent.”

  “What?”

  “You talk more like us than Englishers . Where are you from?”

  Colleen grinned. “I’m from Pittsburgh. We do have an accent that sounds a little Dutch. There’s even a book called How to Speak Pittsburghese.” She rolled up her sleeves, the heat of the sun making it unbearable.

  Hezekiah’s smile matched the noonday sun, and kindness poured from his eyes. “So how’d you like berry picking with Ella?”

  “It was fun. But I was afraid of bears.”

  “Bears?”

  “Yes, they eat berries. Saw it on a nature show on TV. So I thought we’d see one and was a bit nervous.”

  Hezekiah began fanning his face with his hat. “Haven’t seen a bear in years. And black bears won’t hurt you.”

  “Like The Three Bears?” Aurora asked, her feet dangling under the glider. “Mama Bear, Papa Bear, and Baby Bear are all nice…”

  Hezekiah cocked an eyebrow. “Well, not if you get in between a mama bear and her baby. She won’t be too nice.”

  “It’s a story she knows. About talking bears,” Colleen explained.

  Hezekiah smiled at Aurora and then Colleen. But his eyes slowly went down to her bare arms. “You’re all cut up. What happened?”

  Colleen gripped Moses tightly. “I, ah, must have scratched myself berry picking.”

  The concern in Hezekiah’s eyes made her heart jump into her throat. Very few men ever showed concern. Ella opened the screen door with a bowl of berries for Colleen and Aurora. “Here you go. Hezekiah, you want some?”

  Hezekiah put up a hand in protest. “Danki, but no. Ella, Colleen is new to the country. Did you tell her to keep her sleeves down when picking berries? Look at her arms.”

  Ella took her arm and looked at the scars. “These aren’t from thorns. How’d you get them?”

  “I had a run in with a cat. A nasty one.”

  “Did Janice report the animal?” Hezekiah asked.

  “No, I didn’t tell her. The cat was just hungry. When I fed it, it went off….”

  Hezekiah’s eyes rested upon her, as if he knew she was lying…

  ~*~

  Granny saw a black and white sheep and asked Janice to stop the car. “Well, I never! It’s spotted like Holsteins. Wonder if they sell them.”

  “Well, they’re obviously Amish. Do you know people up here in Troutville?” Janice asked.

  “I know them,” Lavina said from the back seat. “Won’t be talking to me, though.”

  Granny’s head spun around to meet Lavina’s eyes. “Why not? You’re not under the ban.”

  Granny saw Lavina blush; a deep redness started on her neck and slowly rose to cover her face.

  “People talk…” Lavina sighed. “It’s why I stay in Smicksburg.”

  Seeing how odd Lavina acted since they’d come to Troutville grabbed Granny’s heart. A girl only eighteen seemed too young to be so full of pain. She thought of her nephew, Nathan, and how she feared his attachment to Lavina. Was she adding to Lavina’s pain? Was Nathan a healing balm?

  Janice interrupted her thoughts. “Let them think what they want. It’s a sin to be looking down on others. Let me tell you. I know. I’m a black spot on an otherwise white Holstein cow.” She looked at Granny and burst into laughter. “Sorry, couldn’t pass it up.”

  “There’s no shame in being Black,” Granny said.

  “Oh, Deborah, I know that. I’m proud of my heritage. But I do live in a mostly white community and know what it feels like to be looked down on. Not like back home in the Deep South.”

  “Are you sad living here?” Lavina asked.

  “Some days I want to pack it all up and move back home, I won’t deny it. But then Jerry cautions me about the lie, ‘The grass is greener on the other side’. No I’ve learned to be content, no matter what state I’m in.” She grinned. “That’s a Bible verse….Be content in whatsoever state you are in.”

  “In the King James, too,” Granny said. “That’s goot.” She turned back to Lavina. “I’d like to see if these here people can sell me a lamb or know where I can get sheep like these ones. Will you walk to the door with me?”

  Lavina shrugged her shoulders. “I suppose so.”

  Granny silently prayed for Lavina. If the people knew her, and shamed her, she’d have to teach her how to recondition her mind. See herself as God saw her…forgiven….pure. But Granny knew her own mind had to be reconditioned concerning Lavina, too. She feared Lavina’s past immorality would make for an unhappy marriage to her Nathan.

  As they approached the front door, Lavina reached for Granny’s hand. “I remember this place. I need to go back…”

  “You need to go forward. Remember Lot’s wife. She looked back and turned to salt. Couldn’t move.” Granny gripped Lavina hand tightly. “You’re too young to get stuck in life.”

  Lavina didn’t resist, but instead teared-up. “Granny, danki ever so much. I am stuck.”

  Granny embraced her. “You have me and a circle of friends now, jah? Some say our knitting circle’s full of knit picks, I know that.” She pat Lavina’s back. “But we do. We pick each other up, jah?” Lavina started to shake. “Ach, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  Lavina pulled back. “You made me laugh. Danki. I like that. Knit picks.”

  “You’re picking up Maryann, jah?” Granny asked.

  “Jah, and love it. Hope to have a family as big as hers someday.”

  “Yinz lost?” a man’s voice called from behind the screen door.

  Granny walked up the three steps, yanking at Lavina all the way. “I’m curious about your sheep. I’ve never seen one like it.”

  “Ach, we breed them,” he said. “Do you want one?”

  “Jah. I spin wool and what nice yarn the wool would make.”

  The man looked over at Lavina, and groaned. “I know you. You’re from around here.”

  Lavina put her head down, not meeting his gaze.

  Granny silently prayed.

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nbsp; “You’re the girl who gave up her twins, jah?”

  Granny prayed all the more, as she noticed Lavina blush again.

  “’Tis a shame…”

  Granny put her hands on her hips. “She’s not in shame anymore…”

  “Ach, I didn’t mean that. It’s a shame the way you were raised. Didn’t want to say it.”

  “Do you know my daed?” Lavina asked, almost in a whisper.

  “Jah, I do. We had words. Not being in the same church district, I stopped visiting and all.”

  “Why?” Granny asked.

  The man opened the screen door and wiped the sweat off his forehead with a hanky. “I don’t want to say in front of the girl.”

  “My daed threatened you, jah? If you told anyone….”

  “Jah. But a group of us told your bishop, and that’s what started the whole thing…”

  “Started what?” Granny asked.

  “You don’t know?” he asked, surprise coloring his voice.

  “Nee, we’re on our way to the farm to check on my mamm.”

  “They’re gone. Been put out.”

  “Where did they go?” Lavina blurted. “Does anyone know where my mamm is? My brothers and sisters?”

  The man pulled at his long gray beard. “No word, yet. But if you give me your address, I’ll send it to you when we find out.”

  “You’ll never find out because my daed never let anyone know where we were going.”

  “You’re not from around here, I know that. Moved here a while back, jah?”

  “Six years ago. My daed never got along with the bishops. My mamm said she moved several times…”

  Granny put her hand to her mouth to hide her quivering chin. Lavina had told her about her daed beating on her mamm. Sometimes Lavina tried to stop him, and she paid the price, being beaten instead of her mamm. How could she have missed the selflessness of this dear child? Her mind seemed to be in a tunnel, only seeing immorality. But Lavina had qualities she lacked at seventy. Granny couldn’t help herself. She embraced Lavina, and wept.

  ~*~

  Lizzie looked over at Roman and then her daed again. “Well, now you have to move in with us. Fannie’s pregnant?” She took a copy of the Penny Saver from the counter and fanned her face. “Why’s it a secret?”

  “Well, she’s afraid of having a miscarriage. A bundle of nerves she is.” Jonas wiped sweat from his brow.

  Roman pulled a stool up to the store counter. “Lizzie, you look worn out. Take a seat.”

  “Danki.”

  Roman leaned on the counter with an elbow. “Jonas, we’re your family now. You’re the Opa to my girls, jah? You’re needed at my place.”

  “Daed. It’s time…the season to move on,” Lizzie said. “Understand?”

  Jonas’ eyes scanned the store from behind the counter. “Lots of memories in this store, and it’s something I can do. I do have limits.” He held up an arm attached to a brace. “Can’t do woodworking with Jeb. And my chickens are here. Make a goot profit.”

  “I thought you were getting sick of the chickens,” Lizzie moaned.

  “Now that I have to go, I realize how little I can do with this MS.” He looked down and stared at the floor.

  Roman gazed at Lizzie and shrugged his shoulders. “Why can’t we move the chicken farm to our place?”

  “It’s too much,” Jonas said. “You’ll be adding on a dawdyhaus. No, I won’t have it.”

  Lizzie beamed. “Daed, you make money from your chickens.” She snapped her fingers. “Ach, you’d be living down the road from our new English neighbors, Marge and Joe. You could show them how to feed and water their turkeys the way you do, by just pressing buttons.”

  “Jah, you could teach others how to live off the grind,” Roman said.

  “Grid. Live off the grid,” Lizzie corrected. “It means no electricity.” She pursed her lips. “I have another idea. Got it from Janice Jackson, the pastor’s wife at the Baptist church.”

  Jonas didn’t say anything, but he leaned forward.

  “She said we should have an Amish day camp. Let English kids get a chance to milk a cow, collect eggs, shovel manure, ride in a buggy.” She shifted. “But most of all, the English would like to talk to a real Amish person. Ask questions about our heritage and what-not. Daed, you’d be ever so perfect.”

  Jonas’ eyes got wide. “You mean the English are interested in how we live? Why?”

  “I don’t know. It’s a mystery. Maybe they’ve never been to a real farm.”

  Roman took off his straw hat. “What do you say, Jonas? We’ll move the chicken building over to our place, build a dawdyhaus, and maybe have an Amish camp.”

  Jonas chuckled. “Sounds kind of interesting, that Amish camp. I’ve always liked to tell stories….”

  “So Daed, can we start making plans? Tell Fannie she has the store to herself and will need to hire someone?”

  “Jah, I suppose so….”

  ~*~

  Marge took a deep breath, but didn’t get out of the car yet. She hadn’t been in a church for ages and the fight she and Joe just had sapped her strength. But her model marriage was Granny and Jeb’s. They both had strong opinions, but they yielded to each other, within reason. Granny didn’t start the summer knitting circle until Jeb was fine with it, but she’d stood her ground while Jeb was thinking it over. Maybe Joe was thinking tonight he needed to be in a local church since her off-the-grid magazine said you should. Living so far from neighbors, it was a good place to see them regularly.

  She looked at the church that Janice had said was once a dairy barn; was even in Country Magazine. Marge had to admit it pulled on her Little House on the Prairie yearnings. To live in an era of simplicity, like Ma Ingalls and have your life rooted in a local church was so appealing. And the church was white clapboard, too. Her stomach flipped; if this is like Little House, is this where gossipers come too? Like Mrs. Olson? Surely not.

  A knock on her window brought her out of her daydream. She rolled down the window.

  “You going to come in?” asked a chipper lady with short brown hair, carrying a guitar case. “I’m Ginny. And you are?”

  “Marge. I think we’ve met somewhere.”

  “In my bookstore, Serenity Book Nook?”

  Marge popped out of the car and clasped her hands. “I love that place! So cozy and the coffee’s good. But I’ve never seen you there.”

  “Most likely working in the back room. So, where are you from?”

  “Indiana. Moved up to live off the grid. Live down the road from Granny Weaver.”

  The church bells rang and Ginny gasped. “I have to lead worship! Running late. Are you coming in?”

  “Yes, I am,” Marge said, feeling more confident. Country folk were friendly, and she need not fear nasty gossip. She followed Ginny as she ran into the church. Ginny went to the front, but Marge sat in the last pew. So quaint, she thought. But is God mad I haven’t visited Him in years?

  Ginny fidgeted with sheet music, and then put a piece on the music stand. Janice ran the overhead projector, and Marge looked at the title. You Saw Me. She didn’t know this song. She looked down at the bottom of the song and it read, Hillsong. Her friend in Indiana had given her one of their CD’s but Joe wasn’t too happy, so she’d returned it. How silly.

  Ginny strummed her guitar with eyes closed and then everyone in the church stood up and sang the song, some hands raised. Marge felt like running out, being near the back door. But she looked over and saw Colleen, that single mom that was a part of the knitting circle. She looked like she was ready to cry, tears brimming in her amber eyes. Should she go over and sit next to her. What on earth was wrong?

  Marge looked ahead at the words everyone was singing, so heartfelt:

  And You saw me

  When You took a crown of thorns

  And Your blood washed over me

  And You loved me

  Through the nails that You bore

  And Your blood washes over me<
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  Marge thought of her father making fun of the new music in some churches. But as she watched Ginny with her head up and eyes closed, strumming the guitar as if she believed every word, it made her feel like crying. Her face tensed up when she sang about the crown of thorns. Marge looked down at her hands and stared at the bruises the thorns made while picking berries.

  More childhood memories flooded her mind as she looked at the words. And you loved me…Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so. She felt warmth in her heart. How she’d missed church. Agreeing not to go after marrying Joe was a mistake. A big one. But would he understand if she became a regular attender?

  ~*~

  Luke stepped back, shocked at what Joe so easily said. There is no God and I hope Marge realizes it soon. But Luke knew there was a God, ever since his wife forgave him of abuse. Her changed heart was a miracle, no doubt, and the Bible they shared daily had melded them together, just like Jeb and the church leaders had said. He crossed his arms and leaned against the barn. “How do you think you got here if there’s no God?”

  Joe took a swig of the homemade root beer Ruth made. “I don’t know, and I don’t care. All I know is if, and I mean if, there is a God, he screwed up, big time.”

  “How?”

  “Suffering. Children starving around the world. . Sickness and death. I could go on…”

  “He didn’t make that stuff.” Luke did a quick casting off prayer, like Ruth so often did under pressure. Casting her cares on God.

  “If he didn’t, then who did?” Joe asked.

  Luke felt hope rise in him. Joe asking questions was good. He wanted answers. “You do know the story in Genesis, when God made the earth, jah?”

  “Since I was a kid, in church, Sunday morning, Sunday night and Wednesdays, too. I know, God created the world, so to speak, then a devil with a pitch fork came and tempted Eve to do something really bad…eat an apple.” Joe laughed. “That’s as silly as Jenny thinking she could find the Seven Dwarfs by following rabbits, only she’s really cute.”