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

  Fannie had to admit she felt sorry for her mamm. “My daed never comes in much. He’s so busy milking cows….”

  Mona cleared her voice. “I don’t see why you’re asking about my husband’s business.”

  Melvin looked back at Fannie, his eyes asking if he should continue, but she shook her head. She knew what he wanted to scream with all his might. Your husband’s miserable since he can’t do anything right in your eyes. So he lives in the barn.

  Fannie thought of how the March girls lived for so long without their father around. But Mrs. March was so capable of running a household. Her mamm wasn’t, for sure and for certain. But why?

  ~*~

  Maryann felt fatigue wash over her as she carried the laundry basket up the stairs. Her heart pounded, echoing through her ears as she reached the top, so she sat down. Dear Lord. Help me. It’s like last year. Is it the dreary weather making me tired, or is it…cancer again? Lord, you give good things to your children, so I’m believing it’s the weather. I cast my care upon you…

  Her oldest daughter, Becca, opened her bedroom door and rushed to her side. “Mamm, what happened?”

  “Just taking a break. Actually, looking at the walls thinking they need a fresh coat of paint.”

  Becca bent down and took the laundry basket. “I’ll finish up and you go have some tea.”

  Maryann knew it must be the weather affecting her, because she had to bid the tears to stay in check. The winter blues had gotten ahold of her. “Danki, Becca. But have tea with me.”

  “I’ll make the tea and bring out some jam we made in the fall. What do you want? More apple butter or peach butter?”

  “Don’t we have any raspberry left?”

  “Nee. The kinner ate it all up. It’ll be peach, pear and apple butter all winter.”

  Maryann sighed. “I’ll take apple butter.” She got up and ascended the stairs, Becca close behind her. Did Becca know she was having dizzy spells again? Was she staying close in case she fell? Surely not. “Becca, don’t you have papers to grade? Being the new school teacher takes time. I’ll do the laundry.”

  “Well, tomorrow’s Thanksgiving, and with so many daed’s off work, there’s no school. So, I’m free to help.”

  Maryann remembered how most Amish were farmers when she was growing up. Now it seemed like the Amish had to revolve their lives according to the English calendars. “Becca, don’t you need a break, too?”

  “I’m taking one now. Anyhow, I wanted to talk to you, alone.” She quickly placed the laundry basket in the utility room, right off the kitchen, and then went to get the blue speckle ware teapot and filled it with water. “Gilbert’s been asking me to go home from Sunday singings…”

  “I noticed his buggy pulling in late at night.”

  Becca twirled around. “You did? But how can you tell it’s Gilbert’s?”

  Maryann didn’t want to admit she stayed up until Becca got home safely. A sixteen year old Amish girl had a right to attend singings and be in a courting buggy until all hours of the night. “Do you care for Gilbert?”

  Becca got a jar of apple butter out of the pantry and bread from the breadbox and placed them on the table. “I think I love him. But how can I tell.”

  Love him! Maryann felt a dizzy again, but she was learning to hide them well. “Ach, you’re too young.”

  “You knew daed was the one you’d marry when you were sixteen.” Becca took a seat across the table. “I read Little Women, you know. And somehow, I think Jo should have married Lawrence, not the professor.”

  “Why? Jo was young and didn’t know her own mind. The professor helped her.”

  “But a woman isn’t completed by a man, you’ve always said that.”

  Maryann took a piece of bread and smeared the jam on it. “Jah, I do say that. A man should complement, not complete a woman.”

  “But Lawrence complimented Jo all the time. I don’t understand.”

  Maryann reached for Becca’s hand, thankful that indeed her daughter was still young and needed her. “When I say complement, I don’t mean someone saying something nice, like ‘I like your new dress.’ I mean complement, like something that brings out the best, like ‘That dress complements your complexion.’ Brings out the right colors on a woman’s face. Understand?”

  Becca slowly nodded. “So all these times you’ve said find someone who complements me, you meant someone who brings out the best, like the professor did for Jo?”

  “Jah, exactly.”

  Becca squeezed her hand. “I’m so happy. Gilbert never compliments me, like saying how pretty my eyes are and all that stuff. But he brings out the best in me for sure…and that’s how I know I love him.”

  Maryann looked at the beaming smile her daughter displayed, and wished she could make time stop. But life wasn’t like that. It always went on, and children grew up, and loved ones passed on into eternity. Heaven. That’s when it will all end, like Granny said last week at knitting circle. And when they hosted a singing in their barn, the youth sang a lively hymn

  When we all get to heaven

  What a day of rejoicing that will be

  When we all see Jesus

  We'll sing and shout for victory!

  Maryann relished the thought, and squeezed Becca’s hand tighter.

  ~*~

  Granny jabbed the white cake with a toothpick to see if it was done. Janice arranged the turkey on a platter, along with mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, cranberry sauce and corn.

  “When will Jeb be home?”

  “Well, he can’t call and let me know.” Granny elbowed Janice playfully. “He said six, so just put the plate in the icebox.”

  Bea charged the door, so Granny knew the girls had arrived. She stomped her foot. “Beatrix. Come.”

  The little black dog put her tail between her legs and slowly pulled herself towards Granny with her front paws. Granny ran to the dog. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Just want you to stop that yapping.” She picked up Bea nuzzled her face against her long silky fur.

  Mona opened the door and immediately clucked her tongue. But Fannie nudged her, and she only nodded at Granny, not making her usual complaints about the little dog.

  “Come on in and get warmed up,” Granny said. “Smells like snow.”

  “Jah, it does,” Fannie said. “I like it when we meet earlier so I can drive home in daylight.” Unwrapping her cap and hanging it on the pegboard, she rubbed her hands. “But it’s always goot to be here. It’s like my second home.”

  Mona’s countenance dropped. “Your life revolves around knitting now. And being Amish, we should be quilting, like I said before.”

  Granny shot a quick prayer up. One for grace and strength. “We can quilt here, if you want. Just not on Wednesdays.”

  “Why? Going to the Baptist’s church on Wednesdays now? Sunday with the Amish not enough?” Mona asked aloofly.

  Fannie went to Granny and put her arm around her. “Mamm. She helped with their dinner today.”

  “And she was a big help,” Janice shouted from the kitchen. “So were Lizzie and Jenny. My how the seniors loved Jenny talk about her caterpillar project. She’s like a homeschooled kid.”

  Lizzie opened the door in time to hear Janice’s remark. “We’re going to homeschool soon.”

  Mona spun around and gawked at Lizzie. “Not send the girls to an Amish school?”

  “Well, I’m looking into it. Jenny’s more advanced than girls her age and should be sitting with the fifth graders, and feels bad about it, since she can’t sit with her friends. Louisa May Alcott was homeschooled by her dad….”

  “But Jenny is Amish,” Mona blurted. “We pay taxes to build our own schools. What if every Amish family homeschooled? We wouldn’t have our schools.”

  Granny sighed. “Mona, don’t make a mountain of beans about it. Lizzie said she was thinking about it, and she is their mamm and knows best.”

  “But she isn’t their mamm….” Mona pursed her lips.


  Lizzie stepped closer to Mona and stood tall. “Abraham Lincoln had a step-mamm who he said was his best friend.”

  Janice joined the group. “So, you’re reading the book about step parenting Suzy ordered?”

  “Jah, and I just didn’t know what an honor it truly is. It seems like stepmothers have gotten a bad name because of some English stories, like Snow White. I can see why we don’t read fairy tales.”

  Janice grinned. “I love them and collect all the DVDs from Disney. But I’m not Amish, and don’t see things like yinz do.”

  Granny shook her head. “In the important things, you do. Like helping the needy in town, like you did today. It all opened my eyes.” When hearing chattering outside, she ran to the door. “Come on in where it’s warm. No need to talk outside.”

  Suzy, Colleen and Ruth all entered, noses and cheeks red from the cold.

  “I just watched the Weather Channel,” Suzy said, “and it was saying we’re in for a whopper of a storm. Maybe six inches of snow.”

  “The birds are all too quiet. Hiding in pine trees,” Ruth added.

  “Well, it won’t snow until five-thirty.” Suzy took off her black coat and orange hat and gloves. “So we have time for a short circle meeting.”

  Granny was always appalled at how much stock the English put in manmade devices to predict the weather. Didn’t the Bible say God held back the wind? And why the uproar about snow? Didn’t it say in Job that is was a treasure? “Come on in and have a slice of cake and hot chocolate.”

  “Thanks Granny, but we should skip dessert and start the circle. Don’t yinz agree?”

  All heads nodded nervously.

  “Well, if you want hot chocolate it’s simmering on the stove. Help yourselves.”

  “Okay girls, take a seat and let’s knit and talk about Little Women. I need answers,” Suzy said quickly.

  “Answers to what?” Colleen grinned. “Are you giving us a quiz?”

  “No. I just need advice about something. Something that surfaced in me while reading Little Women.”

  The women all took a seat to form a circle and Granny sat in her usual place. “What surfaced, Suzy?” she asked.

  “Well, that Mrs. March is so good. I told Colleen when she visited the store this afternoon. I just can’t do what Mrs. March does.”

  “Be a mamm?” Fannie asked.

  “No. Not that. Going around town helping everyone. I have a store to run, but Mrs. March had four daughters with no husband around and she found time. So I did too. I went to Missy Prissy’s.”

  Janice leaned forward. “I told you Jerry and I would do it tomorrow.”

  Suzy put a hand up. “No. I had to face her….”

  Colleen knit with new blue yarn she decided to get in addition to all the crimson wool. “But you looked so tired when I saw you….”

  “I’m beyond tired now! So, how did Mrs. March do it all so cheerfully?”

  Granny took her black wool out of her basket and began to knit. “Can you back-up and tell us who Missy Prissy is?”

  “Her real name is Missy Hopkins. She lives two miles outside of town. She has agoraphobia and can’t leave the house.”

  “Is it contagious?” Ruth asked. “I’ve never heard of it.”

  Janice slowly rose her head to stare at Ruth. “Are you serious?”

  “Jah, I am. What is it?”

  “It’s the fear of the marketplace, really. Fear of being in public, open spaces. Fear seems to cripple the person, making them unable to go out.”

  Suzy sighed and looked over at Colleen. “After you left, I got on my knees, literally. I know how I reacted to the telephone call said it all. I hold unforgiveness towards her and I needed to put feet to my faith, and serve her.”

  Granny put down her knitting needles. “Really? That’s so….”

  “Amish?” Suzy laughed. “We read the same Bible, jah?”

  Snickers and warm mirth were heard throughout the room, and Granny nodded in agreement. “I didn’t mean to say that, but with goot English friends, you understand what I mean. Not all English Christians act like you.”

  Suzy’s shoulders slumped. “I know. Missy Prissy sure doesn’t act like a Christian…”

  “Is she?” Janice asked. “She depends on the church now, and we reach out to everyone in need. But I think she’s an atheist.” Janice’s eyes grew round. “But so was Joe! And look at him now. We need to be real with Missy. That’s what did it for Joe.”

  “How so?” Fannie asked. “And I thought little Jenny helped him believe in God, since she has childlike faith.”

  Lizzie spoke up. “It took my Jenny and others to help Joe see God, but I think what Janice is saying is that we were all real and transparent in front of Joe, and he saw the Lord working in our lives.”

  Fannie walked over to the window and looked out. “I don’t see Marge’s car. I thought maybe she and Joe were visiting with Roman and she’d come in later.”

  “She’s sick. Left the church dinner,” Granny said. “But where is Maryann?”

  No one responded, and Granny took a deep breath. Maryann’s health was a concern she had to cast on God continuously. Even getting up at night, worried over her dear friend. But she turned worry on its head and prayed instead. “Does anyone know if Maryann’s alright?”

  Mona finally spoke. “She and Becca stopped over and checked on me. Now that all my kids are grown….something she wouldn’t have to bother with if Fannie came over more.”

  Fannie’s head jerked up and her eyes were ablaze. “I’ve offered for you to live by us. We can’t move the store to your place.”

  Suzy coughed loudly. “Ah, can we talk about Little Women? That’s the purpose of this circle. How about we go around the room? Colleen, you start.”

  Colleen nodded. “I got a lot out of the book. The March girls were limited as to what they could wear, like I am now that I’m going to turn Amish. It’s their inward beauty that really counted, and it took Amy a while to learn that, but she did.” Colleen looked over at Ruth who sat next to her. “That’s about it. How about you, Ruth?”

  “Well, ever since we talked about Pride and Prejudice, I told yinz I was writing Luke love letters. What pricked my heart in Little Women was how much Jo liked to write, and I do too. But I don’t know if being Amish, I can be a writer.”

  “Jah, you can.” Granny quipped. “I’ve submitted things to Family Life Magazine and long ago, when I was a teacher, to Blackboard Bulletin.” She looked over at Colleen. “No fairytales, only true stories, or parables so we learn a lesson, jah?”

  Colleen nodded with a grin. “Even write poems?”

  Laughter filled the room. “Of course you can write a poem,” Granny said. “All of Psalms in the Bible is poetry. Jah, we love poetry.”

  Ruth craned her head forward. “I’ve been Amish my whole life, and I didn’t know I could write for a magazine….”

  “Maybe your mamm doesn’t read much,” Lizzie offered. “Does she read at all?”

  Ruth shook her head. “Only her Bible.”

  Mona shifted in her seat. “Your mamm has common sense. No use reading things outside the Bible.”

  Granny tightened her grip on her yarn. Lord help me! Is there anyone as rude as Mona? She closed her eyes and prayed for strength, because she had an urge to throw her yarn at this woman who got under her skin so much it hurt.

  “Mona, if you know Granny writes, how could you say something so rude? It takes lots of work to write.”

  Granny opened her eyes and slowly looked at Lizzie, who had dug in her heels and confronted Mona. She was becoming more like Roman, her husband, every day.

  Mona shooed the air away from her. “It’s my opinion, and I’m entitled to it. If someone gets hurt, it’s not my fault.”

  Suzy stood up, put two fingers to her mouth, and blew a whistle loud enough to break glass. “Will you Amish stop this bickering? For pity sake. “She pointed to Fannie who sat next to Ruth. “Your turn.”

  F
annie’s cheeks were red on her blush line. “What I got out of the book, was what kind of mamm I want to be.” She looked down at her yarn. “Mrs. March had four daughters, all different in what they liked to do. And their personalities were different, but she loved them all the same, not having favorites.” Her eyes glistened as tears formed. “Melvin and I want lots of kinner, and I hope I make all of them feel loved for who they are in here.” She held her yarn up to her heart. “Colleen’s right. It’s what’s in a person’s heart that really matters. What makes them beautiful.”

  Granny knew she was seeing a miracle. For Fannie to say this in front of her mamm with such confidence, was one more step out of self-hatred and rejection she’d battled with. “Danki for sharing that, Fannie. You’ll be a wunderbar goot mamm.”

  “I fear I won’t,” Fannie said, almost in a whisper.

  Silence. No one wanted to say the obvious. Fannie was afraid of being like her own mamm, a woman who had her favorites and even admitted it. Granny shot another prayer up, casting Fannie on God.

  Suzy pointed to Mona. “How about you? What did you get out of the book?”

  “Not much. Only that saving money is important. It showed the Civil War, and being Amish, and being a pacifist; I didn’t see that the March’s did the right thing, knitting for soldiers.”

  Fannie leaned towards her mamm and whispered loud enough that everyone heard, “The Baptists aren’t pacifists. Shh”

  Mona glared at Janice. “Your church believes in killing people?”

  “Only in self-defense or to protect the liberties in this country that you enjoy. We have a church member in Iraq, and we’re mighty proud of him, risking his life…”

  Granny felt her emotions flapping like the cold laundry hanging on the porch. What made Mona so opinionated? As an Amish woman, she was to try to live at peace with others, not cause a war right in the middle of her knitting circle. Should she say something? Ask her to never come back? Every week Granny was on edge, not knowing what was coming out of Mona’s mouth.

  Mona’s voice pierced the stillness. “Maybe I shouldn’t read any more secular books and stick with the Bible. And stay home, not come anymore.”

  Granny took a deep breath, and relief settled upon her soul, until Lizzie spoke up. “Mona, I think you’ll like the next book better. Anne of Green Gables doesn’t have war and it’s about an orphan girl being adopted. “