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, she was not going to let another man spin her emotions out of control. Yes, she missed Nathan, but he too proved to be untrustworthy. To not tell her about Sarah, the reason he left Montana to begin again, made her believe a lie. She wasn’t the apple of his eye. She was more like a safe place, shelter from a storm, until Sarah came with an umbrella to take him home. To the one he really loved.

  She put a plate of little pancake bears before Tillie. “Will these cheer you up?”

  Tillie let a smile slide across her face. “Danki, Lavina.”

  “You’re welcome, honey.” She brushed flour from her apron and sat at the table to read the Bible verse she was meditating on. The family Bible always sat on the table, another nice touch to Roman’s family. A constant reminder that Christ was a guest at every meal and the center of the home. She fingered the pages until she got to Proverbs 4:23-26.

  Keep thy heart with all diligence; for out of it are the issues of life. Put away from thee a froward mouth, and perverse lips put far from thee. Let thine eyes look right on, and let thine eyelids look straight before thee. Ponder the path of thy feet, and let all thy ways be established.

  Jeb had warned her to guard her heart concerning Nathan. She understood that part. But what did froward mean? Forward? Nathan was mighty forward when they first met, saying he loved her a little too soon. She sighed. And what did it mean to ponder your path when there wasn’t any other choice? Life without Nathan, she supposed. So, she wouldn’t write back, for sure. He flip-flopped like the laundry outside, and if she needed to keep a straight path, she couldn’t get dizzy watching him move about so.

  She thought of Hezekiah. He was stable man who knew what he wanted. Set his hand to the plow, literally, and was making his path straight, row after row. Now he had enough to buy Ella’s farm, get married and raise a family. Since she’d been over at the farm, along with Colleen to help weed the pumpkins, gourds, and squash that Ella would be selling at her roadside stand, she’d taken quite a liking to Hezekiah. But why did her mind still turn to Nathan?

  Lavina looked down at the verse again, and stared at: Let thine eyes look right on, and let thine eyelids look straight before thee. Yes, it was clear what she needed to do….or was it?

  ~*~

  Granny saw a car pull down her driveway as she swept the front porch. Colleen waved, as did Clark. She was accustomed to Janice driving Colleen over for their Wednesday pie-making frolics, and then Janice would come back to pick up the pies for Forget-Me-Not Manor.

  Clark stopped the car by Granny’s porch steps. To Granny’s surprise, he came around the front and opened the door, helping Colleen out.

  “Don’t tell me you’re hurt, too,” Granny gasped.

  Clark burst into laughter, the edges of his black eyes crinkling. “Janice and Jerry want to teach me ‘Southern’ manners. A man opens the door for a woman where they came from.”

  “Even in the summer, when there’s no ice on the ground?”

  Colleen joined in with Clark’s mirth. “The Southern Baptists are really big on manners.”

  Granny cringed. “Colleen. You’re to be respectful of the Baptists.”

  Clark put up a hand to defend Colleen. “She’s not being rude. It’s just that Jerry’s lessons are… intense.”

  “Intense? How?”

  Colleen tried not to laugh again, but did. “Clark’s been taking landscape classes at the community college and Jerry makes him pick flowers to fill Forget-Me-Not. To remind us we’re princesses, daughters of the King, like the sign in front says. He does look ridiculous carrying bouquets around.”

  Clark took Colleen’s hand, bowed and kissed it. “The coach awaits when you want to depart, fair maiden.”

  “We need the church van to lay the pies in,” Granny said. “Where’s the van?”

  “Church is using it today. Clark can make two trips if we don’t have room. Only three miles away.”

  Clark bowed again to Colleen, and they both laughed. Colleen playfully hit his shoulder. “Go make yourself useful. This fair maiden’s making pies that most likely you and Jerry will devour.”

  Granny watched as they bantered back and forth. It reminded her of her courting days with Jeb. He was shy to let his feelings be known, so became quite the tease. Still was one. Did Clark want to court Colleen? Did Janice know? Well, she had more things on her mind than a romance going on between the Baptists. Her morning quiet time and the breakfast Lavina made gave her strength to do today what she’d planned, even though her mind often crossed over to seeing Roman groan in pain.

  Colleen walked up the stairs and embraced Granny. “So sorry about Roman. And sorry for acting so silly when I know you’re upset.”

  “Well, I can’t deny that when a kinner hurts, even if he’s thirty-four now, a mamm’s heart aches, too.”

  Colleen bit her lower lip. “I feel that way about Aurora. Sometimes it just stings that my own parents were never concerned about me. It’s not natural.”

  Granny couldn’t help but touch Colleen’s sweet face. Her amber eyes glowed a rare light. “I worry about you, do you know that?”

  Colleen looked down. “Really? Why?”

  “There’s just something about you, that’s special-like. Feel like I’ve known you more than a few months.”

  Granny heard Lavina call across the yard. “Granny, I can’t come over to make pies. Need to watch the girls.”

  “Have them come over to help peel apples. Got a bushel.” She turned to Colleen. “Got one of those apple peelers and the girls love to turn the crank, watching the ribbon of red skins spiral into the bucket.”

  Colleen smiled, but Granny could tell something was on her mind. “What is it, Colleen?”

  She walked over to a cedar chair and plopped down. “You’ll think I’m crazy.”

  Granny walked over and pat Colleen on the hand. “What’s crazy?” She took a seat in the chair next to her. A flock of Canada Geese honked loudly overhead, making it hard to hear much else. “They’re practicing,” Granny said loudly.

  “For what?”

  “Migrating. Need to get ready for their long flight.”

  Jeb came out on the porch, his hair all disheveled. He nodded and forced a smile to Colleen. “Making more pies, jah?”

  “Yes. I always look forward to Wednesday mornings.”

  Jeb put a hand on Granny’s shoulder. “I’m heading down to the hospital. Going to take the buggy over to Joe’s and see if he can give me a lift.”

  “What if Clark needs help making a rocker? He’s not fully trained.”

  “He’s trained, Deborah. He fulfilled the last shipment.”

  Granny pat his hand. “If you think it’s alright, you go on ahead.”

  Jeb spryly made his way to the buggy and hopped in. Granny chided herself for her behavior this morning, clinging to Jeb, fearful he might die, and now fretting about the business. No, she had faith, and would cross over all unknown waters on this earth until she stepped into heaven.

  “Opa, Opa, can I go with you?” Jenny hollered as she ran across the yard. “I want to see daed.”

  “I don’t think it’s wise, Jenny,” Granny warned. “And we need help with peeling apples.”

  Jeb put a hand up. “She’ll be fine. Almost eight years old, remember?”

  She huffed and turned to Colleen again. “We best be washing those apples.” The fear on Colleen’s face confounded Granny. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing…”

  “Spill the beans,” Granny said, trying to lighten the conversation.

  Colleen leaned her head against the back of the rocker and looked up. “What does it take to become Amish?”

  Granny leaned forward. “Well, most everyone’s born into it. I think it’s too hard to adapt if you’re older…”

  “I could. I love it here. I love the Amish. And I don’t want to leave.”

  “Who said you have to leave? Janice and Jerry?”

  “I can’t live here forever. Need to
pick a school and get some training to support myself.” She forced a smile. “Maybe I’ll become a pastry chef. I do love to bake.”

  Granny had asked the Good Lord to order her steps this day, and was hoping not to be burdened by others’ problems. But here was Colleen, someone in need, and surely God had planned this meeting. “I think you’d make a goot chef.”

  “But I don’t want to leave Smicksburg.”

  “There’s a pastry school in Punxsutawney. Why not look into it?”

  “Because I want to be Amish…”

  Granny sighed. “You’d need to live like Marge, and from what I can see, I just don’t know if she’ll make it. Living off the grid is losing its luster, at least in Marge’s eyes.”

  “But I know I’d be different,” Colleen pressed. “I feel somehow like it’s in my blood.”

  Granny saw the girls running across the yard, braids flying. “I think you need to talk to Marge, and get a clear picture of what Amish life would be like. And she doesn’t go without a car. That’s what I understand is the hardest part when someone converts.”

  “So people do convert?”

  “Jah, but it’s rare. Very rare. Mostly done for love…”

  ~*~

  Joe put the book in the top corner of the outhouse and exited the little shelter. If someone had told him a few months ago he’d be living without indoor plumbing, he would have laughed them to scorn. Now, here he was, living close to nature, loving it, but concerned that Marge wanted to leave. Cancel the land contract with Jacob, and go back to their rented-out house.

  He never thought he’d love the quiet like he did. Yes, he and Marge started to go to restaurants to watch the Steelers, but the commercials bothered him. Buy this, and then you’ll be happy, happy, happy. Never a care again in the world. What a lie! Since they’ve downsized, he never felt better. Less to think and care about.

  No, he liked feeding his turkeys, but knew he needed to stop naming them. Well, his favorites were now like pets. And the rabbits? They were pets. Marge’s Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail. His heart felt full when Marge cared for them as her children. She wanted a child, he knew, and the more they lived among the Amish, they realized the world wasn’t such a bad place to bring a baby into. But he and Marge were bickering something fierce lately, and he knew why. Religion. Always made people sour.

  He heard the crunching of gravel and saw a buggy pull back to their little dawdyhaus. Again, Joe wondered what to do with the big farmhouse Marge didn’t want to live in. No, she wanted to be all snug and cozy in the little house in the back. His stomach tightened. His attitude toward his wife wasn’t improving…

  “Morning Joe,” Jeb said as he got out of the buggy.

  “Hi Joe! Can I see the rabbits?” Jenny squealed.

  Jeb put his hand on Jenny’s shoulder. “Hold on now. We need to go visit your daed.”

  “Need a ride?” Joe asked, hesitantly, hoping Jeb would say no. With Marge gone, he had lots of peace and quiet.

  “Jah, we do need a ride. Payment as usual?”

  Joe looked back to the fencing he needed to put up. He promised Marge she could raise two alpacas of all things. Another lure to get her to stop talking about moving. She could learn to spin from Granny and the wool was warm….biting off more than she could chew again. He’d have to rethink this whole alpaca thing. “No problem, Jeb.” Joe walked over to the white metal hand pump and yanked it a few times until water came flowing out. He slashed his face and rubbed his hands together. “Sure is hot.”

  “It’s good for my butterflies,” Jenny chirped.

  “I’m sure it’s good for all the bugs,” Joe said with a wink.

  Jenny looked up at Jeb. “Are my butterflies bugs yet?”

  Jeb rubbed the top of Jenny’s head. “Don’t make it harder than it is. When they come out of their chrysalis, then they’ll be bugs, having six legs.”

  Jenny jumped up and down. “Maybe they’ll come out today, since it’s so hot!”

  “What are yinz talking about?” Joe asked. “Butterflies come out of where?” He motioned for them to get in the car. “I see lots of orange butterflies. Some yellow ones, too. Do you collect them, Jenny?”

  “I raise them. The orange ones are called Monarchs and the yellow ones are Swallowtails.”

  Joe snickered. “Oh, I see. And how do you raise butterflies? Poke holes in a jar lid and feed them?”

  Jeb burst out laughing. “Go ahead, Jenny. Tell him how many you have.”

  “What a chrysa…whatever you just said?”

  Jenny giggled. “Joe, you’re so funny. Everybody knows what they are.”

  “He’s not Amish.” Jeb nudged Jenny playfully. “May need to tell him.”

  Joe knew how educated the Amish were concerning birds, but bugs? Were they that bored? “Okay, educate me, Kiddo.”

  “I have at least a hundred hanging in my aquarium. And some of them are ready to hatch.”

  “Back up. What’s a crystal?”

  “Not a crystal. A chrysalis. It’s like an egg shell. Joe, you do know inside chicken eggs is a baby chicken, right? The yoke is really a baby chicken not grown.”

  Joe had to admit to himself, he never really looked at it that way. “Sure, I know that. So, inside a crystal is a butterfly yoke?”

  Jenny eyes grew round. “Joe, not a crystal, a chrysalis. And it’s not a yoke, but a caterpillar inside. Actually it’s really larvae…”

  Joe turned the car on the main highway to head south. He wished Jenny would stop chattering on about her bugs, but she was awfully cute. “Go on…”

  “Well, I collect the caterpillars and put them in my aquarium. I feed them milkweed all summer and watch them spin a little house to live in while they change into a butterfly. Now they’re ready to come out and show me their new wings.”

  Joe grimaced. Marge gave him a religious tract with a butterfly on it. Born Again was on the cover. He read it in the outhouse, only taking a few minutes to read. Did Marge set Jenny up to explain to him about metamorphisms? He knew what that meant. Something changed completely into something else. And, according to the tract, we’re all worms that can be born again into butterflies…He thought it corny, but it did make him think.

  “You can get wings, too, Joe.” Jenny leaned her head on his shoulder. “You seem like you need some wings.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You seem sad.”

  Jeb put his hand on Jenny’s shoulder. “Best not to pry too much.”

  “Marge wants to move back home. Keeps saying she’s dog tired. Can’t say just ‘tired’, but has to be dramatic and say ‘dog tired’. My nerves are getting mighty frayed.”

  “What does she do just for herself?” Jeb asked.

  Joe wanted to scream, This whole homesteading thing! He did it for her! What was Jeb getting at? “She’s the one who wanted to move here.”

  “And now that she’s here, how does she unwind?”

  “She knits.”

  “And do you encourage it?”

  “Don’t object to her going to the circle.”

  Jeb tapped his fingers on his trousers nervously. “I have a plan.”

  ~*~

  Granny smeared chicken salad on her homemade bread. Then she opened a jar of chow-chow and placed it on the table. “Now, all you girls eat up. We did a day’s work in a morning’s time.”

  “Can we eat in our tree house?” Tillie asked.

  Granny knew Tillie, her timid girl, rarely spoke up and asked for anything. It was apparent she loved the new tree house Jonas had built. But it was up too high for her liking. What if Tillie fell? Millie fell? Ach, Deborah Weaver, have faith. “Let Oma put your sandwich in a paper bag first.”

  “I’ll do it,” Lavina said, getting up before Granny could stop her.

  “Danki, Lavina.” Granny was happy Lavina was taking Nathan’s departure so well. With such an unknown future, her faith was inspiring. When Tillie and Millie skipped out of the little house, Granny too
k a deep breath. “Lavina, I was thinking of asking Nathan to come back to help.”

  Lavina sat down slowly, beside Colleen, and looked warily across the table at Granny. “There are plenty of men here willing to help. Do you have to?”

  “Well, he’s an expert rocker maker. Clark’s still learning.”

  “But most Amish men can make a hickory rocker. Why not ask someone local?” Lavina asked, emotionless.

  “Well, I miss Nathan, truth be told. And that Sarah. Ach, she’s not the one for him.”

  “Who’s Sarah?” Colleen asked.

  “The girl I told you about, Nathan’s old fiancé,” Lavina snapped.

  Not liking the tone in Lavina’s voice, Granny put a hand up. “He wasn’t engaged when he came here. It was in the past.”

  Colleen put a hand on Lavina’s shoulder. “We’re like Mary Lennox, aren’t we?”

  “Jah, we sure are…”

  “Who’s Mary Lennox?” Granny asked.

  The two girls across from her gave supportive glances to each other. Colleen got up and pulled a book from her huge paisley print purse. “She’s a character in this book, The Secret Garden. Neither of her parents wanted her, and Suzy thought it would be a good book for Lavina and me to read.”

  “Suzy? Did she order it for you?”

  “No, went over to Serenity Book Nook and got it. Oh, and I almost forgot, the man who works there said your new book should be in by Friday.”

  “Jane Austen.” Granny put her hand on her heart. “She touches me in here.”

  “That’s how we feel about The Secret Garden,” Lavina said. “It’s nice to know that there are other people who know how we feel, even if they’re not real.”

  Granny nodded in agreement.

  “Suzy has a good idea. She wants to start a knitting and reading circle. She calls it a Knit Lit Group.”

  Granny had to admit it was appealing. But summer and fall were so busy, she hadn’t picked up a book, except her Bible. “How about we do that in the winter?”

  “Why not now?” Colleen asked.

  “The Amish are busy morning ‘til sunset in the summer,” Lavina said.