“Do you snap at Zach?” Fannie probed.
Ella thought of Zach’s reaction to her last night. I don’t know who you are anymore. She’d deserved it, having yelled at him like never before. She didn’t actually know herself anymore. Maybe this move was too much. God didn’t give his children more than they could handle, so maybe this move wasn’t God’s will.
Fannie continued, hands on her hips. “Do you have swollen ankles?”
“Swollen ankles? Of course. I’ve been moving and lifting boxes. Anyone’s ankles would be sore and swollen.”
Ruth placed another wrapped dish in a box. “Fannie, Ella has enough to think about right. Let her be.”
“Nee. Ruth, you know the signs. I’m getting my five month check-up later today, and Ella, you’re coming.”
“I am not. I have too much to do and I was told I couldn’t have children by a doctor.” Ella hoped this would put the issue to rest, so she closed her eyes and rocked, trying to shut out the world.
“Sarah. She was barren too and had a kinner in her old age. Elizabeth, John the Baptist’s mamm was barren, too. And Rachael in the Old Testament.” Fannie paused to breathe. “And how about Hannah, my favorite Bible character?”
Ella put a hand up. “I’ll go with you if you need the company…”
~*~
Janice sat in the overstuffed chair, in her bedroom on the first floor of Forget-Me-Not Manor. The blue alpaca scarf was bound to make some homeless boy or girl warm in a few months. She knit one, purled one, seeing the pattern clear enough to not have to wonder what she needed to stitch next.
Knitting was her solace behind the closed door that shut out the problems and worries of the girls, the princesses that came to live at the refuge to get off the streets. But she knew today, when she broke down sobbing about Mollie, she was going over the brink, into a valley. A cavern of despair. One tear could unleash a whole dam of welled up tears, and that’s what she did at Granny’s. How embarrassing. Even though Joe said he came to faith by seeing the folks at the Baptist church, along with the Amish, be real and, and through that, saw a real God at work in their lives…she scared herself at the lack of self-control.
She’d have to go to counseling; it was obvious. Maybe some childhood pain was buried deep and she just hadn’t dealt with it yet. Maybe some degrading thing said about her African American heritage in elementary school. All she knew was that she felt hollow one minute, then sad, then grouchy, and happy. Was she manic depressive? Or was it menopause?
A heavy knock on the door made her jump. “Who is it?”
“Guess who, sugar.” The door opened and a hand clenching a bouquet of red roses appeared. “Can I come in?”
Janice stared at the red flowers wrapped in green tissue paper. “Jerry, did I forget something? What day is it? What month, for that matter?”
He stepped inside the room, a smile extending from ear to ear, accenting his sparkling white teeth. “I’m done.”
“What?” Janice clenched the yarn in her hands. “You’re done with what?”
He came over, pulled her out of her chair, and started to waltz around the room. “I just got word from the school that I am finished.” He twirled her around. “Every bit of paperwork for my dissertation is in and I am now Doctor Jerry Jackson. Woo Hoo!”
Janice tried to shake off the confusion running through her mind. “How come I never knew you were so close to graduating?”
Jerry pulled her close. “Because you kept saying to stop talking so much about school.”
Janice searched Jerry’s eyes to see if he was serious. He was. “Oh, honey. No wonder I’ve been feeling so left out in the cold. You needed my support.”
He stole a kiss. “And you’ve needed mine the whole time I was in school. Now sit down again. I have a surprise.” He put the flowers on their dresser as Janice sat back down in her chair. Jerry knelt down before her. “Honey. We can move…back home.”
Janice’s eyebrows furrowed into one straight line. “Say what?”
“I can get a job at a college now. At a Bible college down south, in the Bible Belt.”
“Do you want to? I mean, leave Smicksburg?”
Jerry eyes grew as round as buttons. “You do, right? You’re always talking about the South, and how much you miss it.”
Janice covered her eyes and let the tears flow. “I’ve missed you.”
“And I’ve missed you, too.” He leaned on her knees. “But I’m done with school for good, and we have more options. So, what do you want to do?”
Janice clasped her hands over her heart. “I don’t want to move. I just want us to work together in the ministry like we used to.”
“But I can make more money as a college professor. You’d have a nice house, drive a nice car and not the church van…”
Having Jerry next to her, talking heart to heart like they used to, his mind completely calm and not unnerved by school was such a delight. Janice leaned forward and locked her hands around Jerry’s neck. “Honey, I see those signs in the Amish stores in town that read, ‘The best things in life aren’t things’, and I can say right now, I totally agree.”
Jerry comically scratched his chin. “Translate that.”
She laughed. “I’m saying I don’t care about things. Things aren’t the best things in life, but people are. And the ones I love most live in this tiny little town, where you get paid as much as a church mouse.”
Jerry got up and swung both arms in the air. “Touchdown!” He ran over to his side of the bedroom and got his Steeler’s Terrible Towel and swung it in a circle over his head. “Woo Hoo!” He ran back to her side. “I thought you deserved better, Janice. Are you sure?”
“I’m positive. But, you went to school to better equip yourself too, right?”
“I went for that too. And I do feel more able to deal with counseling issues. Getting tougher ones all the time.”
Janice sighed. “You think it’s the signs of the times?”
“I don’t know, but there’s a lot of work to do…right here in Smicksburg.” He pulled her close and kissed her until she was out of breath.
~*~
Colleen pulled a red maple leaf from Hezekiah’s blond hair, and then turned to run further down the path. “I’ll beat you.”
“I’ll let you,” Hezekiah called out.
She turned and scooped up an armful of leaves and threw them at him, and his laughter echoed around the forest. Colleen dashed ahead, making it to the log seat in the Secret Garden and plopped herself on it. “There. I told you so.”
Hezekiah’s eyes twinkled. “You’re too English, being so competitive…”
Colleen grinned, knowing he was kidding. “If God can change a leaf from green to red, he can change me, jah?” He sat next to her, leaning close, and she felt the warmth of his breath against the crisp autumn day. As they drew closer, she turned and stared at her black apron. “I’m more Amish than you, listening to my bishop.”
Hezekiah took her hand. “I’m sorry. But this is harder than I thought. No kissing…”
“I know. It’s hard for me, too.”
A red squirrel skittered across a trail of leaves, then down a hole. “He’s preparing for winter. Wonder how many holes he has nuts stored in?” Hezekiah attempted to direct their minds in another direction.
Colleen wished that she and Hezekiah could just run off and be married. Your mamm never considered long-term consequences, her grandma, Emma, had confided in her. What started as a mere flirtation with Colleen’s dad soon absorbed her mother and she landed in a world filled with darkness. Colleen thought of her parents, the unstable home, having to steal at a young age for drug money. Drug money for her parents. Her own parents, a missing ring from her friend’s house in fourth grade, a necklace from another girl. No wonder she fell for the first man who came into her life; it was her ticket out, so she thought. But when he heard she was pregnant, he was gone.
“Are you upset with me?” Hezekiah asked.
/> His question brought her from her daze, and she squeezed his hand. “No, not at all. I was just thinking…”
“About what?”
“What is real love? I mean, I see it in Granny and Jeb’s marriage, but is it real or a show?”
Hezekiah looked ahead as another squirrel scurried up a nearby tree. “Nee, it’s real. Love is a sacrifice.”
Colleen nudged him. “That’s not very romantic.”
“Nee, it is. When we say our vows in the Amish church, we will promise to be loyal and care for each other during adversity, affliction, sickness, and weakness.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Sounds like you’ve memorized that.”
“I’ve been to plenty of weddings, and every time I’ve heard those vows spoken, I’ve asked the goot Lord to give me someone I can sincerely promise that to.” He put his hand on her new prayer kapp. “But I don’t have to pray that anymore, since He brought me you.”
Colleen felt like she’d melt into a puddle. This was the most romantic thing she’d ever heard, even in a movie. Too afraid to look up over at him, knowing that if there was ever a time she wanted to kiss him, it was now, she simply whispered, “I love you so much…”
Hezekiah leaned his head on hers and they simply sat in silence, enjoying a moment that seemed sacred.
Colleen fidgeted with the hem of her new mauve dress. “It’s daylight savings time next week. We’ll need to turn back the clocks and it’ll be dark at five.”
“See, you’re so English still. I can see why Jeb says we need to wait for six months…”
“What?”
“We Amish don’t ever change our clocks. Only the English.”
She turned toward him, eyes wide. “Seriously? Why not?”
“I don’t know. Just never have, but if you work for the English, you need two clocks, so you’re not late for work.”
His blue eyes were drawing her in. She knew it wasn’t intentional luring, but they just radiated love, something she’d been starved of for so long. When their eyes continued to lock, the image of her mother, a foolish, headstrong woman who never abided by any rules, flashed before her, and she got up. “Best be getting home…”
“Jah,” Hezekiah said. “And maybe we shouldn’t be coming here alone anymore. We could sit on Emma’s porch…”
Colleen couldn’t believe the integrity this man before her possessed, and right then, she knew good marriages like Granny and Jeb’s must be true. Not something without problems, like a fairytale, but one that sacrificed fleeting pleasure for long-term happiness. How sad it was that her mother grew up in Smicksburg, having a nice family, and gave it all up due to a lack of self-control.
Hezekiah led the way back to the path, and Colleen for the first time felt sorry for her mother…or was it forgiveness? She didn’t know, but she knew she’d be praying for her parents on a regular basis, since she now knew what happiness was…
~*~
Granny nuzzled the little black Pomeranian up against her cheek. “Such a pretty little thing. I’m sure Suzy will like her.”
“Beatrix,” Marge said. “We need to call her by her name so she doesn’t forget.” She rubbed her hand on the little dog’s head. “You are so cute with those brown eyebrows.”
“And she has an Amish beard,” Granny mused. “All under her chin.”
Marge let out a howl, as she opened the door to Suzy’s shop, but soon stifled it. Suzy was in the store, to their shock, standing on a ladder, placing yarn on the top shelves. “Suzy, we’re so sorry about Mollie.”
“Jah, we are very sorry,” Granny added. “But look at this little black dog we got you.”
Suzy stared at the dog, not flinching. Granny couldn’t tell if she was happy about seeing Beatrix or not.
“Do you want to hold her?” Granny asked.
Suzy, still speechless, made her way down the ladder and took a seat at her desk. After fiddling with some papers, she looked at Beatrix. “I’m sorry. I can’t take her.”
Granny made her way towards Suzy, the dog held out to her. “Here, just hold her and see how sweet she is.”
Marge cleared her throat. “Suzy, I tried to tell Granny, but she insisted.”
Suzy’s eyes welled up with tears. “It was a really nice thought, but it’s too soon. I need to grieve the loss of my old friend…” She pursed her lips as tears rolled down her cheeks. She took a Kleenex and wiped her face, and took up her knitting. “Maybe in a few months or so, but not today.”
Granny didn’t want to admit it, but this little dog had grown on her the whole way back from the shelter. Her huge brown eyes were filled with hope. “I’ll keep her until you’re ready.”
Suzy reached out and took Granny’s hand. “Deborah, you are one beautiful woman. I appreciate your concern, but I think I’m going to get another toy fox terrier like Mollie…when I’m ready.”
Granny thought of Jack, and wondered if she’d feel the same about Black Labs. Would she want another dog just like him? She didn’t think so, since she liked all types of dogs. Jack was a stray in need of food and shelter. She nodded to Suzy and looked at Marge. “Well, maybe you can take her.”
Marge rolled her eyes. “No way. I’m moving and don’t want the bother.”
“The bother?” Granny asked. She looked at Beatrix. “She’s not a bother; she’s adorable.”
To Granny’s shock, Suzy laughed. “You’re taken.”
“Come again?”
“You’re attached already to that little dog,” Suzy said. “Little dogs are nice to cuddle.”
“Cuddle? Dogs are used for a purpose. What would I do with Beatrix?”
Suzy looked at Marge for help. Marge hit her knee and howled. “You can spin her fur.”
Granny tried not to laugh, but she couldn’t help it, and joined in, noticing Suzy was laughing, too. “That’s lecherlich.”
“What?” Marge asked.
“Ach, sorry. I meant to say ridiculous.”
Suzy opened her desk drawer and pulled out a book on how to spin pet hair. “Lots of people do it…”
Granny felt the little dog’s heart beat rapidly as the noise got louder in the room. “It’s okay, Bea. No one’s going to hurt you.” She nuzzled her nose into the dog’s deep, shiny black fur. “Granny’s here.” She looked up and saw Suzy and Marge staring at her, as if in shock. “We Amish like dogs too, but we find a purpose for them, and it won’t be for spinning fur.”
Suzy got up and pet the little dog’s head. “You go on home now and meet your dad. Jeb will be a good daddy.”
The English, no matter how long you’ve known them, never ceased to surprise Granny. Jeb, a daed to a dog? Lecherlich.
~*~
Joe held Marge’s hand as Jerry made his way to the podium to teach Bible study. They’d be living fifteen miles away, and it would be hard to come consistently to Wednesday night church, and they both knew it. Living down the road again from his father would be a challenge, but somehow he felt sorry for the old man. Did faith do that? Soften a heart, as Marge put it.
Jerry asked Janice to put the words of the chosen scripture up on the overhead projector, as usual, but he had a twinkle in his eyes. And he didn’t look tired. Why?
“Please open your Bibles to Ecclesiastes 3. I’m going to read this familiar scripture from the Contemporary English Version. Sometimes we’re so familiar with a scripture, it loses its impact.
“Everything on earth has its own time and its own season.
There is a time for birth and death, planting and reaping, for killing and healing, destroying and building,
For crying and laughing, weeping and dancing,
For throwing stones and gathering stones, embracing and parting.
There is a time for finding and losing, keeping and giving,
For tearing and sewing, listening and speaking.
There is also a time for love and hate, for war and peace.”
Joe reread, embracing and parting…Somehow, h
e’d felt like such a failure, not being able to live off the grid. And friends from Indiana always teased them about their harebrained schemes, along with his father. But he knew that in a short time, he’d learned more about himself and Marge than in years of marriage. And being in the quiet so much, without distractions, made time slow down enough for him to notice God…and children. Amish kids playing happily with a jump rope, or pulling a homemade wagon, gave him great hope that they wouldn’t be bringing a child into a hostile world.
Marge felt the move was worth it. Her Little House on the Prairie fantasy was over, but she’d gleaned a lot from the Amish lifestyle. The television wasted too much time, and she only wanted to have one to watch Steeler games.
A peace he could not describe settled in Joe’s heart. They were moving, and it was the right thing to do. Some seasons were short, but their impact lasted forever.
~*~
Suzy had to concentrate on breathing, let alone understanding the Bible tonight. But she knew she needed the support of her church. Every hug and kind word helped lift her burden. She knew Jerry had picked the text for tonight, just for her, knowing she needed the comfort of knowing, “There is a time for birth and death, planting and reaping.” Granny was right; it was natural that someday Mollie would pass on, as sure as the dying leaves outside fell from the trees. But the dead leaves nourished the ground, and the memory of Mollie would feed her soul forever.
Janice slid in and sat next to her. “Are you alright?” she whispered in her ear.
Suzy nodded. Being in this special church always brought rest. The large wooden cross hung on the wall, plain and simple; the church had been a place where she’d laid many a burden down.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Janice said, squeezing her hand. “You look pale. Really pale.”
She slowly turned toward Janice. “I’m drained, not a tear left to shed.”
Janice bowed her head, sandwiching Suzy’s hand in hers, and Suzy knew that her dear sister was lifting her up in prayer, right then and there. That’s what a true church was for, carrying one another’s burdens, and joy filled her heart. She was a blessed woman to have so much: faith, family, community. And to think, God had enabled her to bring women together in community through the art of knitting.
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 Page 54
