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

  “Jah, to my surprise. I thought Jeb was just being daft to give her to me.”

  Granny clenched her fists. She could call Jeb ‘daft’ but not Mona, or any other person for that matter. “Jeb was helped by dogs his whole life. Thought you’d like one.” She regretted her defensive tone as soon as she spit out these words.

  Mona reached for Granny’s hand. “Ach, I say wrong things. I meant at first I thought it an odd thing to have a dog in the house, as you know. But Angel lives up to her name, for sure.”

  Granny looked down at Mona’s hand in hers. Praise be. This statue of a woman was pliable. Had Angel really done that much? Ach, Jeb’s so wise.

  Ruth appeared with Janice and Suzy, and Granny was overjoyed that Ruth was no longer ill, able to finally come back to the circle. She turned to Mona. “Can you help me pass out baked apples?”

  Mona nodded, as she lilted over to the counter and picked up a tray. “In the living room?”

  “Jah, put them on the coffee table. We can nibble on them as we knit.”

  Granny collected spoons and napkins and ambled herself into the living room. “Coffee’s hot on the stove and baked apples are here on my new coffee table. Isn’t it a beauty?”

  “I love it,” Marge said. “Something new Roman’s making, right?”

  “Jah,” Lizzie said. “Bent wood coffee tables to match the rockers are selling like hotcakes.”

  “And I say ‘Praise be’ to that.” Granny took a seat and picked up her yarn. “And the carved trays are doing goot, too. People buying after Christmas since the English give each other money.”

  Janice snickered. “Ach, we English are so materialistic, jah?”

  Granny looked at Janice in wonder. “Jah, some are.” She grinned. “Aren’t you as chipper as the birds outside today.”

  Janice picked up her red yarn and began to knit. “I loved Emma and can’t wait to talk about it.”

  Suzy shrugged. “Then you start. I’m clueless as to what Emma is all about, except a spoiled brat.”

  Janice got her copy of Emma out of her massive purse. “Well, it brought back memories for me.” She opened the book and read:

  “Dear Diary, Today I tried not to think about Mr. Knightly. I tried not to think about him when I discussed the menu with Cook... I tried not to think about him in the garden where I thrice plucked the petals off a daisy to ascertain his feelings for Harriet. I don't think we should keep daisies in the garden; they really are a drab little flower. And I tried not to think about him when I went to bed, but something had to be done.”

  Janice gazed around the circle. “I fell for Jerry back when dinosaurs roamed the earth, and forgot how I felt. This passage gave me such vivid flashbacks, my heart beat out of my chest.” She looked at Colleen and then Fannie. “Yinz are so young, but when you become a fossil like me, and your heart skips a beat, you think it’s love or a heart attack.” She leaned over and howled. “Well, I knew it was love. Almost went to the doctor, though.”

  Laughter filled the room, and this made Granny glad. The English moved so fast, not taking time to reflect, and once again, she thanked God for her Amish heritage, especially Old Christmas, a day set apart just to be silent and revel in all life’s blessings. Curiosity rose within her. “That’s wunderbar, Janice. Don’t the English reflect on Valentine’s Day about love, though?”

  “What?”

  “Well, you said you hadn’t thought of your first love for Jerry in a long time. What do the English do on Valentine’s Day?”

  “Eat chocolate,” Janice quipped. “Jerry always gets me a heart-shaped box.”

  “What for?” Granny asked. “Is there some meaning in it?”

  Janice put Emma back into her purse. “I don’t understand the question, Granny.”

  “Well, do you take time to reflect or meditate?”

  “Oh, no, it’s a celebration time. But I suppose many couples reminisce about their lives together. Jerry and I are busy folks…so I guess we don’t have time.” She swallowed a lump. “Wow, never saw that before.”

  “A minister’s work is never done.” Granny tried to sympathize with her friend, but knew she and Jeb saw each other far more than Jerry and Janice.

  “Too busy,” Janice added.

  Suzy groaned. “Ministers. It’s another reason I don’t like this book. Mr. Elton is a jerk and he’s supposed to be a man of the cloth!”

  All heads nodded in agreement.

  Maryann spoke up. “I think Jane Austen makes fun of clergymen. Mr. Collins in Pride and Prejudice was ferhoodled in the brain, but I liked that book, overall. I didn’t care for Emma. All they did was take walks and visit people.”

  “Oh,” Colleen said. “It shows the beauty of a simple life. Emma didn’t need fancy balls to be happy, even though they planned them. It was being happy with a small circle of friends.” She looked across the room at Maryann. “Maybe you’re so used to the slow pace of life, the community the Amish have, but this book makes most people envy Emma’s life. So close with her father…” She pursed her lips. “Emma was so kind to the man, even though he was so grouchy and complained all the time.”

  “Ach, I agree,” Lizzie said. “My daed’s in real pain with MS, and rarely complains. If he did, like Mr. Woodhouse, it would be awful.” She lowered her head back into her knitting. “Emma didn’t have a mamm, and if people think she was selfish, I disagree. She was hiding her broken heart.”

  Silence hung over the room, knitting needles clicked. Granny wasn’t expecting Lizzie to say this, and really didn’t understand her meaning, so she probed. “Lizzie, what do you mean?”

  Lizzie reached for her book, took out her paper book marker, and read:

  “‘I always deserve the best treatment because I never put up with any other.’ She was guarding her heart from further pain. Losing a mamm makes you so isolated and… odd to others. You see girls with mamm’s and you wonder if you did something wrong. You know, bad things happen to bad people, and all that…my daed helped me work it all out.”

  Suzy slowly put a hand up. “Lizzie, do you mean Emma was hurt?”

  “Jah. Daed sees this in Charles, his English pen pal, who has an absent daed, one who’s never home. Invited him up to visit and hopes to teach him what he taught me.”

  “Which is?” Marge asked, leaning forward.

  “God is the father to the fatherless, like the Bible says, or in my case, a mamm. He has a special place in his heart for orphans, widows, and hurting folks.” Lizzie’s eyes misted. “We judged Charles by his black clothes, dog collar and piercings, but daed saw his heart.”

  Suzy put down her knitting. “We sure can misjudge people. Missy was a hurting person who hid it all by acting superior.” She scratched her head. “I think I’ll watch Emma, the new PBS movie, and see if I don’t see her as a hurting person.”

  Colleen groaned. “I will miss television.”

  Suzy winked. “I can have the DVD player going while we have one of our tea breaks.”

  Granny wagged a finger. “Nee. Colleen will be baptized in a few months, so no television.”

  Colleen shook her head in agreement. “A trifle, right Granny?”

  Granny beamed. How she loved this girl. “Jah, something not important in the long run.” She turned to Fannie. “You’re quiet. What did you get out of Emma?”

  “I liked how Emma reached out to the poor. Miss Bates was my favorite character.”

  “You talk as much as her,” Mona said, an attempt at a joke. No one laughed, but only looked sympathetically at Fannie whose face was red as beets.

  Granny’s heart plummeted. When would Mona learn to hold her tongue? Did she need to ask her to leave?

  Mona slipped an arm stiffly around Fannie. “I’m sorry. I’m like Mrs. Elton, I suppose, always saying the wrong thing.”

  “Or,” Lizzie offered, “like Emma, someone hurt deep down and covers it up. Making jokes at other’s expenses, like Emma did with Miss Bates on Boxhill?”

&nbs
p; Mona’s head hung. “Can yinz pray for me? I have carried pain and hurt people…”

  “Hurt people, hurt people,” Janice said. “It’s a rule of thumb in pastoral counseling. If you never felt loved, how can you give it out?”

  Mona froze and Fannie took her hand. “We’ll get through this together, Mamm.”

  Mona gasped, and reached awkwardly for Fannie, as if embracing someone was foreign to her. “Danki.”

  Granny looked out the window and saw finches pecking at thistle seed in the cylinder feeder. Lord, transform Mona into a finch, able to get along with others. Help her shed her blue jay ways…

  As the room was still, Granny turned to Ruth, her bird-loving friend. “Ruth, how about you? Did you like Emma?”

  “I thought it was written very well, and I liked Emma. She was strong. I saw she was hurting right away, and kept people at arm’s length so they wouldn’t see it. But I just don’t understand Emma’s comments about Robert Martin. She thinks a farmer is beneath her, and she’s surprised he can write a goot letter.” She beamed. “Luke started to write love letters to me after I started. Remember how I got the idea from Pride and Prejudice?”

  All leaned forward, eager for more.

  “Well, his letters melt my heart completely, and he was raised a farmer. Did Jane Austen think farmers were dumb?”

  Marge groaned. “Some things never change. People look down on blue collar workers like they’re not as smart as engineers, doctors or lawyers, but my Joe can fix anything, being so mechanically minded.”

  “So, people look down on other’s professions in the English world?” Ruth asked. “Why? Everyone has their own talent.”

  “And some are more respectable than others,” Marge added.

  “Ach, ‘Stuff and nonsense’, like Marilla always said in Anne of Green Gables,” Granny jested. “That’s ferhoodled. Every person is equal, like the proverb says. ‘He is the happiest, be he peasant or king, who finds peace at home.’ That’s what’s important.” She smiled around the room at the women she loved so well. “Isn’t that the theme of Emma? Finding peace and community?”

  All heads nodded. The wind whipped at the house, but the warmth within the room was unmistakable.

  Lizzie stood up to get the bag she’d brought with her to the circle. “Don’t mean to change the subject, but I want to share something with yinz.” She turned to Marge. “Unless you want to ask.”

  “No, go on,” Marge said.

  “Well, I know we knit here, but Marge feels like Emma, not finishing things. Some of it’s kind of personal, but I told her making a wedding quilt is something that takes real commitment.” Lizzie smiled across the room at Colleen. “And we have an early spring wedding coming up, and we need help to make Colleen and Hezekiah’s quilt. Can we count on yinz? We can meet at my place.”

  There was an enthusiastic cheer around the room, and Fannie stood up, clasping her hands. “Can we see the material you picked?”

  “Jah,” Lizzie said, “But, Colleen we want it to be a surprise, so can you move into the kitchen?”

  Colleen nodded, eyes shining. “I found my little circle of friends, like Emma did. I love yinz so much.” She went around the room embracing each woman quickly, and then ran into the kitchen.

  ~*~

  Janice stared at the drip IV and then collapsed in a chair next to her husband. “Honey, something’s got to give.”

  Jerry sat up in his hospital bed. “I agree. I need to get out of here so I can preach tonight.”

  Janice moaned. “Stop it. You’re being admitted, and that’s that. Dehydration and exhaustion, the doc said, remember?”

  Jerry pursed his lips and laid back like an obedient child. Janice’s heart skipped into her throat. “Sorry, honey. Don’t mean to snap, just upset.”

  “I know. You think the church will kill me…”

  “You need an assistant pastor, like I said a million times…”

  “But we’d cut into our outreach money. What we need is a lay pastor, part-time.”

  Janice took her knitting out of her purse. “We need more money; it’s the harsh cold reality. Not a sin to talk about it.”

  Jerry closed his eyes and mumbled, “We’re holding our own. Small churches are dying…”

  He closed his eyes and Janice let a tear trickle down onto the yarn. Lord, we need help. So many in need and Jerry’s big heart just can’t turn people away.

  Suzy knocked gently on the door. “Can I come in?”

  Janice nodded and Jerry woke up in a start. “What’s wrong? Can’t Andy lead Bible study tonight?”

  “Yes. I didn’t come to upset you. Please, calm down.” Suzy took a seat in the hospital chair next to Janice. “I hope I came with some answers to your problem.”

  “You getting ordained?” Janice quipped.

  “I wish,” Suzy said. “But we women, we’re the worker bees… overworked bees I might add, but we’re about to get some relief.”

  Jerry bolted up. “Now, you have me curious. Spill the beans.”

  A broad smile slid across Suzy’s face. “Well, maybe it’s good you’re in the hospital, because you might need treatment for shock. Guess what Missy did?”

  “What?” Jerry and Janice blurted in unison.

  “It’s a secret, and no one can know.”

  A nurse came into the room to check Jerry’s vitals. “Go on, Suzy.”

  Suzy shook her head, and pointed to the nurse.

  “You feeling any better, Reverend Jackson?” the nurse asked.

  “Oh, please, don’t call me ‘Reverend’. I’m no better than anyone else. It’s just Jerry.”

  “Jerry, you’re blood pressure’s fine, but you need to rest.” She turned to Suzy. “Don’t get all tuckered out by visitors.”

  Suzy rolled her eyes. “We’re family.”

  The nurse looked at Suzy, eyes narrow. Janice laughed as her dear friend always got people confused when she said this, which made Suzy do it all the more. How could they be related, Suzy a fair Irish woman, and Jerry and she African American? “We have a church family,” Janice said to the nurse, then winked at Suzy.

  The nurse exited the room. Janice leaned towards Suzy. “You’re silly. Now, tell us what will ‘shock’ us.”

  Suzy’s eyes lit up and she looked like a child opening presents under a Christmas tree. “Give and it shall be given unto you, is all I can say. Just guess.”

  “I can’t. Just tell us,” Jerry said evenly. “The suspense is making my blood pressure go up again.”

  “Okay, but I sure am glad you’re sitting down. Missy is so grateful to the church outreach and well, the service that taught her about salvation. She said she was trying to help others, being jealous of Ginny Rowland.”

  “What for?” Janice asked.

  “Giving up her house, or taking pennies for it, so Forget-Me-Not Manor could start. So she took in women in need, one by one. I thought one girl was a maid, but she was someone Missy was trying to help. She helped Sammy financially, too. But she only felt emptier.”

  Jerry’s eyes were on her like a hawk on prey. “Well, she gave out of her lack, that’s why. She got drained then?”

  “Yes, but now she feels the love of God and isn’t doing her ‘good works’ out of jealousy but out of appreciation of what Christ did for her on the cross. Or should I say, the Holy Spirit is filling…” Suzy cupped her mouth with her hands. “You’ll never guess.”

  “What?” Janice felt exasperated now. This wasn’t shocking news at all, and Jerry needed rest.

  “She’s selling all her antique cars and donating the money to our homeless ministry.”

  Jerry’s eye misted and he took Janice’s hands. “How many and how much are they worth?”

  “I’m not finished. She’s selling her house, too, and wants to live in town.” Suzy laughed. “She’s one nervous driver and needs to walk to stores. Anyhow, she said she has enough to live on forever, and the rest will go to the church.”

  Jerry
’s face contorted and then he bowed his head and sobbed like a baby.

  Janice rose to her feet, lifted her hands, and shouted, “Thank you, Jesus.”

  Suzy got up and hugged Janice. “She does have one stipulation, though.”

  “What?” Janice asked.

  “She wants the money invested to draw interest. And it will be enough to pay a part-time helper at the church.”

  “You mean a minister?” Jerry asked.

  “Well, she said you looked ‘ragged’ but more like a person to be a paid deacon. Someone who can help in the homeless ministry.”

  Jerry put a hand up. “That was my specific prayer. Lord, I sure am glad I’m in the hospital because I think I am going into shock.”

  ~*~

  The next morning, Granny entered the hospital room with Marge, her driver. Jerry was smiling so much, she wondered if he hadn’t received any visitors and was that lonely. “How are you, Jerry?”

  “Wunderbar goot!” Jerry grinned.

  Granny’s brows furrowed. Was he on some kind of medicine for his nerves that made him a little too happy? “Well, we heard you collapsed at the pulpit, and Jeb sends his sympathies, saying he understands completely.”

  “Well, today’s a new day with no mistakes in it, yet, as Janice says,” Jerry said with mirth.

  “She quotes Anne of Green Gables a lot, jah?”

  “Jah, I suppose,” Jerry said.

  Why was Jerry using so many Amish words and making such light-hearted conversation, when he had what appeared to be an emotional breakdown, though mild? Was he now displaying symptoms of this? Granny took a seat, as did Marge.

  “We missed you last night,” Marge said, “but Andy did a good job preaching.”

  “Oh, I never had any concerns…”

  Marge cocked an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Well, just a few concerns. I’m a control freak concerning sermons. Did the overhead projector work?”

  “Yes, as usual.” Marge looked over at Granny, concern registering on her face. “Why do you ask?”

  “I think we need to switch to PowerPoint. Get some computers to update things into the modern world we live in.” He glanced at Granny. “No offense to the Amish.”