by Beth Wiseman
Mamm patted her on the leg. “Since we’re ahead this week on some of our chores, I think I’m going to take a nap.” Mamm stood up, yawned, and headed toward her downstairs bedroom, but she stopped and faced Irma Rose. “Ach, next time you go outside, can you fetch the mail?”
Irma Rose nodded. “Have a gut nap.” She thought about Sarah Jane Miller and wondered how she was doing, if she was fully recovered from her time in the hospital.
She opened her book, a sweet tale about two childhood friends who reconnected after years apart. She’d read the book before—it was a favorite of hers—but try as she might, she just couldn’t keep her mind on the story. Setting the book aside, she decided to face the heat and get the mail.
It was a fair hike down their long driveway to the mailbox, and by the time she got there, she was dripping with sweat. She reached into the box for the mail. A flyer, one regular-sized envelope, and one larger package stuffed so tight she had to yank on it a couple of times to get it out. The flyer was an advertisement for a new Kenmore twelve-speed mixer that was on sale for thirty-two dollars and ninety-five cents. She eyed the special features, wondering what it would be like to use such a fine electric appliance. The Englisch spend lavishly, she thought as she walked back to the house.
The second envelope was addressed to her father, and Irma Rose recognized the return address as a cousin’s from Ohio. The large envelope was addressed to Irma Rose, and at first glance she assumed it must be from a relative also, but she stopped abruptly when she read the return address:
Theodore Von Minden III
32 East Willow Road
Chicago, IL 60004
She’d thought about Theo ever since Jonas said he’d shared a jail cell with him. But she’d also promised never to speak about what happened. She’d kept her word.
She opened the envelope and pulled out a white sheet of paper, along with a book. A Bible. Her heart flipped in her chest, and with shaky hands, she read the letter.
Dear Irma Rose,
Once I found out what your last name was, and that you lived in Paradise, it was easy to track you down. You probably know that I spent some time in jail with your Amish boyfriend, Jonas. He said he wasn’t your beau, but I know he sure wants to be. I’ve thought about you often over the past three years, and your words on that day stayed with me. Jonas told me something that reminded me of something you’d said. It seems like more than a coincidence, and I hope that you’ll consider what I’m saying as both appreciation and hope for a bright future for you.
Irma Rose paused as she recalled the three hours she spent with Theo, both of them hiding in a broom closet in one of his father’s small hotels—“inns,” he’d called them. She’d just finished changing sheets in one of the rooms when she set out to find a mop and broom. She’d opened the closet to find Theo crouched in the corner, crying. They’d both heard footsteps approaching, and Theo had begged her to hurry inside and to stay quiet as a church mouse. So she’d done what he asked since he was so upset . . . and bleeding. She pulled herself from the memory, a recollection that was painful and life-changing at the same time.
Jonas said the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Do you remember telling me that, Irma Rose? Do you remember what else you said that day? You told me that one life could make the difference in a thousand lives and that I had a purpose. Holding hands, we whispered a prayer together, fearful that my father might hear us. You ripped the pocket from your apron and held it against my bleeding ear, and you cried along with me that day. You saved my life.
For the next week, I looked for you. When I finally tracked you down, it was to learn that you had moved away. No one would tell me where. But for the next year, I prayed, I secretly went to church with a neighbor kid, and I forgave my father . . . for a while. I had hope. But the abuse didn’t stop, and over time . . . I fell back into the dark place I’d been before. By the time I landed myself in jail with your Jonas, I’d decided that I couldn’t go on this way. I treated him rather badly. When you talk to him, please tell him that I’m sorry. I was lonely after he left, and I spent another week in that cell with nothing to do but read. The only reading material was the Bible that Jonas left behind. I read it cover to cover and took it with me when I left.
I’m sending it to you, knowing that life is filled with coincidences, but to me, the events that have unfolded aren’t coincidences, and once again, I have hope. I left Lancaster where I was living with my father and made it to Chicago. I’m broke, working in a diner, and renting a fairly trashy room over the place. But I’m safe. I’m finally working toward happiness. And I’m going to turn my life around. Hearing about you from Jonas, reading the Bible, and remembering our time together has lifted me out of the darkness yet again.
I think you must be an angel. Maybe Jonas is your messenger, I don’t know. But open this Bible to page forty-six. There’s a letter folded between the pages that Jonas was writing you, but he didn’t finish it. I hope you will let me know how the story ends.
Sending you thanks and blessings from Chicago.
Theo
Sweat was pouring down Irma Rose’s face and mixing with her tears as she stood in the middle of her driveway, the searing sun blasting down on her. But her feet were rooted to the ground as she thumbed open the Bible and found the letter.
Dear Irma Rose,
What does the future hold for us? Will we be together or apart? I’m writing this from a jail cell, so that’s probably not a gut start. But I know I have enough love for you in my heart to get me through any situation. I have time to think about things in here, and I want to be a better man.
Irma Rose paused. You are a gut man, Jonas. The thought breezed through her mind easily and without hesitation.
I want to raise a family with you. I want to love you for the rest of our lives. I want to hold and protect you. I want to cherish you. And most of all, I want
The words stopped, and Irma Rose stiffened. And most of all you want what? No, no, no! It couldn’t just end like that. What did Jonas want most of all? She sat down in the middle of the driveway, reread Theo’s letter, then reread Jonas’s letter three more times. She stood up, hugged everything to her chest, and started running as fast as she could.
Jonas pressed his heel on the auger, then threw his weight onto it, struggling to break the dry dirt to put in a new fence post. He’d waited until after the supper hour, but the setting sun to his west was having no mercy on him. There were still six posts he needed to get into the ground, so he forged ahead, hoping to finish before dark.
He hadn’t seen Irma Rose since their burger, and he was trying to imagine a life without her since she didn’t have much of a response to his laying out his soul to her. But he was wise enough to know that he couldn’t force her to love him, so he’d been working on readjusting his thinking about his future. If it were God’s plan for them to pursue a future, He would lead them to each other. Jonas couldn’t continue to lay all of his hopes on a dream that might not ever turn to reality.
After several more attempts, he’d dug deep enough for the post, so he set the hole digger aside, hoisted up the piece of redwood, and dropped it into the hole. Breathing heavily, he used his handkerchief to swipe sweat from his forehead, wishing for the umpteenth time that the Lord could have seen fit to give him a brother or two for times like this. If nothing else, maybe He could just send some rain to cool him off.
After he gulped from his thermos of water, he glanced at the setting sun, knowing he didn’t have time to dillydally if he planned to finish tonight. He picked up the auger again and moved a few feet to his left. Distracted by a movement in the distance, he noticed someone running up his driveway. A woman. He put down the too
l and starting moving in that direction. The closer she got to him, the faster he made his own stride, until he was running toward the girl who had his heart.
“What’s wrong?” He grabbed both her shoulders to hold her up since she was completely out of breath. “What is it? One of your parents? What’s wrong?”
She shook her head repeatedly and finally caught her breath. She handed him the Bible and the letter he’d written. Jonas reread what he’d written that day. He’d left the jail so fast, he’d forgotten about the letter. He never would have had the nerve to give it to her. He was just writing down his thoughts, mostly for his own benefit.
“Theo read your Bible,” she said, still breathing hard. “It’s a long story about Theo, but I think he’d want me to tell you about it.” She wiggled out of his hold. “But first . . .” She pointed to the letter in Jonas’s hands. “I need to know what you were going to write, what it is that you want most.”
Jonas was sure his blood pressure was dropping and he might pass out. If ever there was a time he wanted to lie, it was now. He remembered exactly what he was thinking at that moment, and since he’d had no plans to give her the letter, he remembered even chuckling about what he was going to write next. Then the guard came, and his time in jail was done.
“Tell me, Jonas. What is it you were writing? What did you want the most?”
Jonas was sure she was waiting for him to say something that would make the earth move beneath their feet. But he was still trying to understand why she was here.
“Why are you here, Irma Rose?”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I want to be with you, Jonas. I want us to date.”
He cupped her face, but she took a step backward.
“I’m only sixteen years old though. I’m not ready to decide my entire future today, next week, next month, or maybe not even next year. But I know that I feel different with you than I do with anyone else. And I think there is something to that, but it scares me. I think I love you, and I’m so confused.” She covered her face, and Jonas wrapped his arms around her.
“Oh, Irma Rose . . . I’m not scared at all, and someday you won’t be either.” He kissed the top of her head. Then when she looked up at him, his lips met hers. The earth definitely moved beneath them.
Irma Rose lingered in the kiss, and before Jonas even pulled away, she was certain she would spend the rest of her life with this man. So this is what kissing is all about. She let him kiss her two more times, each time better than the last, and somehow she knew that if she was with Jonas, that’s how it would always be . . . each day better than the last. She forced some distance between them and asked, “What was it in the letter that you wanted the most?”
“I’m going to assume that I need to tell the truth.”
Irma Rose squinted at him. “Ya. The truth would be gut.”
“I, uh . . .” He paused, stood taller, and looped his thumbs beneath his suspenders. “I wasn’t going to give you the letter. I was just writing my thoughts.”
She smiled the sweetest smile Jonas had ever seen. “That’s okay. What you wrote is beautiful, and I can’t wait to hear what you wanted the most at that very moment.”
He hung his head and sighed, then looked back up at her and grinned. “I wanted a cigar.”
Irma Rose’s lips parted. “Are you teasing me, Jonas Miller?”
He wrapped an arm around her. “Now, now, Irma Rose . . . let’s walk over to the bench near the garden.” Moving slowly with his arm around her, he added, “I probably need to tell you about a certain situation that involved some bullet holes in my buggy . . .”
Irma Rose laughed. Being married to Jonas was going to be one adventure after another, but she was excited to see what God had in store for them both.
Epilogue
MANY YEARS LATER, JONAS AND IRMA ROSE HAD A DAUGHTER named Sarah Jane and a granddaughter named Lillian. Jonas’s love for speed never dwindled, even after forty-eight years of marriage. Nor did his love of cigars.
“Let’s kick up some dirt, Lilly! Let ol’ Jessie stretch his legs. Give a gentle flick with the reins. Jessie will do the rest.”
Doing as her grandpa suggested, Lillian carefully maneuvered the buggy down the dirt lane to the main road. Then she looked at Grandpa again. He grinned and nodded.
“Ya!” she yelled, which thrust Jessie forward so fast Grandma fell backward against the seat.
“Thata girl, Lilly! A wunderbaar day to feel the wind in our face,” Grandpa said as Jessie got comfortable in a quick gallop.
“Jonas, the Good Lord will still be there when we arrive!” Grandma yelled, regaining her composure as she adjusted her kapp. “This is Lillian’s first time to drive the buggy. She might not feel comfortable moving along so fast.”
“Sure she does. Pick it up, Lilly! Another gentle flick of the reins.”
Lillian glanced at her grandma, who was preparing herself for another increase in speed. But when she smiled in Lillian’s direction, Lillian took that as the go-ahead and did indeed pick up the pace.
“Yee-ha!” Grandpa wailed.
Suddenly his face took on a fearful expression and he stuffed the cigar into the coffee cup. “Quick! Start fanning the room! Dump this out!” He handed Lilly the coffee cup. “My hearing must be off too! I usually hear Jessie’s hooves before he hits the dirt drive. Look at that! They’re already in the yard!”
She grabbed the coffee cup and dumped the contents as instructed. Grandpa moved faster than she’d seen him since she arrived, waving his arms about, pushing the smoke toward the open windows. She watched with amusement at his wholehearted effort to keep his secret. Then, shaking her head, she said, “I’ll go outside and try to stall Grandma. I’ll show her the flowers I’m going to plant today.”
With her grandpa still flailing his arms wildly around the room, she moved toward the open screen door. “I still think you shouldn’t smoke,” she whispered before she walked onto the porch.
“Hurry, child! Or Irma Rose will have my hide!”
—FROM PLAIN PERFECT, BOOK ONE IN THE DAUGHTERS OF THE PROMISE SERIES
The complete story of Jonas, Irma Rose, and their family and friends can be found in the Daughters of the Promise series:
· Plain Perfect
· Plain Pursuit
· Plain Promise
· Plain Paradise
· Plain Proposal
· Plain Peace
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
1. Irma Rose is interested in Jake because she thinks he is “right” for her. We all know it takes more than logic to attain true love. Do you think that Irma Rose could have been happy with Jake if Jonas hadn’t made his intentions known? Or would she have always longed for more?
2. Irma Rose thinks Jonas is wild and reckless, but what are some of the qualities in Jonas that Irma Rose overlooks early on, and which parts of Jonas’s character shine toward the end of the story?
3. My mother was the same age as Irma Rose when she married my father. My parents were married fifty-four years, and Irma Rose and Jonas were married almost that long. Do you think marriages back then were more apt to last, especially when marrying so young? Or are young people today just as likely to have a long-lasting marriage when they commit at such an early age?
4. If you could have written Irma Rose and Jonas’s love story, would you have done it differently? If so, discuss with the group.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
GOD CONTINUES TO BLESS ME WITH STORIES TO TELL, AND I loved writing this novella about Jonas and Irma Rose. All of the characters in the Daughters of the Promise series are special to me, so it was like revisiting old friends.
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Many thanks to Larry Knopick for his friendship and continued support along this amazing journey. Larry, you’ve been an ambassador of the Amish genre, and it’s an honor to dedicate this very special story to you. Peace be with you and Jolene, my friend.
To my family and friends—I couldn’t do this without you. And I have a fabulous publishing team at HarperCollins Christian Publishing.
Thank you, Natasha, for all you do to guide my career and for your friendship.
PATCHWORK PERFECT
DEDICATION
To Kiki and Katie
PENNSYLVANIA DUTCH GLOSSARY
ab im kopp—off in the head; crazy
ach—oh
bruder—brother
daed—dad
danki—thank you
Englisch—non-Amish person
fraa—wife
gut—good
haus—house
kapp—prayer covering or cap
kinner—children
maedel—girl
mamm—mom
mei—my
mudder—mother
nee—no
rumschpringe—running-around period when a teenager turns sixteen years old
sohn—son
Wie bischt—How are you?; Howdy
wunderbaar—wonderful
ya—yes
Chapter One
