Bertha's Resolve: Love's Journey in Sugarcreek, Book 4

by Serena B. Miller

  Bertha continued to fast, and she did not stop praying.

  “Our Lord didn’t eat for forty days,” she said to Dr. Lawrence when he encouraged her to at least have a few bites of the food the hospital had sent. “I think I can last a few more days.”

  “Yes, well, our Lord didn’t have to keep up with thirty little children,” Dr. Lawrence retorted. “He only had to withstand the temptations of the devil.”

  “True, but I’ve noticed something interesting during this time,” Bertha said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Remember how the devil tempted Jesus to turn stones into bread?”

  “Yes.”

  “For these past three days, whenever I start fantasizing about food, all I can think about is bread. Thoughts of bread consume me. It’s the oddest thing. Not my sister’s cakes or pies or cookies. Just that crusty, delicious bread she bakes. Not chocolate or fruit. Just bread.”

  The next day, for lunch, which was day four of her self-imposed fast, the children ate well. The supplies got through. Dr. Lawrence did not disappear or get imprisoned for arguing with government officials. There was canned meat to mix with the rice. And a package waited for Bertha in her room. Inside was a loaf of crusty bread.

  As the children enjoyed a full meal, she quietly closed and locked the door to her room. She took out the simple loaf of French bread, and stared at it, wondering what she should do.

  It wasn’t a particularly large loaf, but it was fresh, and it smelled divine. Dr. Lawrence’s thoughtfulness staggered her.

  She was so hungry, she could have easily consumed the entire loaf and another besides.

  Permitting herself to consume the entire loaf—that was the problem.

  Instead of tearing into it like the starving person she was, she broke off a small section at the end, knelt at her bed with the piece of bread held in both hands, and prayed her thanksgiving.

  After her prayer ended, she very gratefully ate the morsel with more appreciation and enjoyment than she had ever felt about anything.

  Knowing what a rare treat this bread would be to the others as well, she carried it to the kitchen and cut the remaining loaf into four pieces, enough to share with each of the staff. With all her heart, she prayed that their supplies would never again be held back for so long, and she intended to make sure she always had some food hoarded away for the children—whatever it took.

  It was harder to see the children she loved go hungry than to starve herself, but she was determined that neither she nor the children would ever have to feel the bite of hunger again.

  Chapter 34

  “Are we ready?” Darren asked as he entered the kitchen two days later.

  “I guess so,” Bertha said. It had been so long since she’d packed for a trip, it had taken quite an effort to get everything sorted out.

  “My bag!” Anna said.

  “What bag?” Lydia asked. “We’ve already packed everything.”

  “My shell bag.” Anna plumped herself down on a kitchen chair and began to cry.

  Darren looked confused.

  “It’s okay,” Lydia reassured him. “Rachel bought her a bag yesterday to use for the shells she finds. It’s mesh so the sand can fall through. It’s upstairs in the bathroom last time I saw it. I’ll go get it, Anna. Don’t cry.”

  “Okay.” Anna dried up immediately.

  “Anna gets wound up sometimes when things aren’t routine,” Bertha explained. “She’s very excited about the trip, aren’t you, Anna?”

  Anna nodded enthusiastically.

  Lydia came back with the bright green mesh bag in her hand. “Here you go. Now you have everything you need!”

  In Bertha’s opinion, Darren, Joe’s brother, was a mixed bag, and she wasn’t thrilled with the fact that he was the one driving them to Florida. From what she understood, he had a somewhat shady past. Many failed business attempts. She suspected he had skirted around the edges of the law from time to time. And he didn’t seem to have any loyalties to any sort of church, even though he and Joe’s parents had been missionaries to Africa.

  Despite past failures, Darren had somehow managed to come up with an excellent business idea and had executed it nicely. That restaurant, which they based on their mother’s recipes honed in the laboratory of feeding a family in the African bush, had become a success.

  She liked Darren well enough. He was a polite and cheerful young man. But she did not really know him. They had so little in common, she feared that spending two days on the road together while they made their way to Sarasota would be awkward as they clumsily tried to talk to one another on the way there.

  She sighed as she contemplated the next two days of travel. This was not going to be easy. She loved and valued her family, but sometimes members of that family could create an enormous amount of inconvenience.

  Now that the precious shell bag was found, Anna once again percolated with excitement. It was the most alive she had acted for quite some time. Perhaps this trip would be worth it, after all.

  “We are going to Florida,” Anna announced to Darren.

  “I know!” He smiled. “I’m the one who is taking you.”

  Anna looked worried. “Not Rachel?”

  “Rachel needs to stay home and take care of baby Holly remember?” Lydia said.

  “I can help,” Anna said. “Holly can come, too.”

  “It is best not to take babies that young on long car trips if you can help it,” Lydia said gently.

  “But…” Anna began to argue.

  Bertha was not in the mood to deal with Anna’s arguments. She had not slept well the night before, and there had been many bad dreams. She was feeling more than a little irritable.

  “We cannot take Holly with us,” Bertha said, with finality. “Darren is going to drive us instead of Rachel. That is the way it has to be. We will just have to make the best of it.”

  Lydia, Anna, and Darren all stared at her.

  “What?” Bertha said.

  “Darren doesn’t have to take you,” Lydia gently reminded her. “He is making this trip out of the goodness of his heart.”

  Lydia was right. Bertha deeply regretted the fact that she had probably just hurt Darren’s feelings.

  “Please forgive me,” she said. “I appreciate what you’re doing, Darren. I know you don’t have to make this trip.”

  “No sacrifice for me.” He shrugged. “I’m driving two lovely ladies to Florida. I will be getting out of the snow and ice for a few days. I will not be working in the kitchen at the restaurant. And my brother and sister-in-law are grateful to me for doing this. What’s not to like?”

  Darren was a charmer. Bertha smiled despite herself. She still did not want to go, and she was still not sure that this trip would do Anna any good, but it was her responsibility to see it through.

  “I believe we are finally ready.” She could not hold back a small sigh as she handed her suitcase to Darren.

  As Darren carried their luggage to his car, Anna toddled out behind him, chatting a mile a minute about beaches and seashells.

  Bertha and Lydia watched.

  “I know this is a sacrifice for you,” Lydia said. “But I believe it is going to do much good. Anna deserves this trip. I know deep in my heart that it will help her—if not physically, then emotionally. Cousin Rosa is beside herself with happiness that she’s going to have house guests. Who knows, you might even have fun.”

  “I sincerely doubt it,” Bertha said.

  “I’ve packed food for the three of you.” Lydia handed her a medium-sized cooler. “There’s plenty there, more than enough to share with Darren as well, at least for the first day. I packed some lemonade as well.”

  “Thank you,” Bertha said.

  “That way, you won’t have to stop at any restaurants today. I have heard that the cost is great when one is stopping at places along the interstate roads.”

  Lydia and Bertha did not hug good-bye, that was not usually a part of their s
toic culture, but Bertha’s heart ached with love for her thoughtful younger sister.

  “I will miss you, Lydia,” Bertha said.

  “As I will you,” Lydia said. “Take good care of yourself and Anna. I do not know what I would do without either of you.”

  “Nor I you.”

  As their car pulled out of the driveway, Bertha looked back and saw Lydia smiling and waving good-bye from the porch. Such a gentle soul. She seemed so small and thin and fragile, standing there alone. Lydia was and always had been a much better person than Bertha knew herself to be. She would miss her.

  As they drove out onto the highway, she closed her eyes and began to silently pray. She prayed that Lydia would be surrounded by God’s special protection while they were gone, that the trip would go so well that Darren wouldn’t regret having volunteered for it, and that spending time in Florida would create a vast difference in Anna’s physical and emotional help. She prayed that Rachel and Holly would stay well, that God’s perfect candidate to take over Rachel’s police job would appear soon, and that Joe’s Home Plate would continue to thrive. She also gave thanks for Rosa’s willingness to let them stay with her and asked that their presence would help ease her cousin’s loneliness.

  Having been Amish for so long, it did not once occur to her to pray for anything for herself.

  Chapter 35

  Once Bertha finished her prayer, she felt more peaceful about going to Florida. The decision was made. The trip was inevitable. The Lord had been alerted about all her immediate concerns. She could relax.

  That’s the way it had always been with her. Lots of worry and soul-searching before a major decision, but once it was made, she put the fretting behind her and tried to enjoy the journey.

  “Tried” was the operative word this time. Once Bertha opened her eyes, the lovely sense of peace immediately began to evaporate. It was Darren’s fault. He did not drive to her liking.

  Once they got out on the interstate and headed south, he sped up, and she was forced to remind him to slow down. Unfortunately, he did not want to listen.

  “The speed limit is seventy miles per hour,” he told her the third time she gently encouraged him to slow down before he got them all killed!

  “That may be, but it is an ungodly amount of speed,” she said, watching the trees whip by.

  “I’m staying just under the speed limit,” Darren said evenly.

  She saw that his knuckles had grown white, he was gripping the steering wheel so tightly. He also had developed a habit of clenching his jaw. She’d never noticed that before.

  “That may be,” Bertha said. “But…”

  “Please let me drive,” Darren said. “I know what I’m doing. Honest.”

  Bertha wasn’t so sure about that.

  Anna was of no help. She didn’t seem to care how fast they went. If there was one thing Anna enjoyed, it was a car trip. She loved watching the world go by as she gazed out the window. Now and then, Bertha could hear her give a pleased little sigh.

  Bertha was caught between a rock and a hard place. She couldn’t get Darren to slow down, and since he was the one driving the car, there was little she could do. Instead, she closed her eyes again and began to pray more fervently for their safety and for Darren to use good sense and keep his eyes on the road and not go so fast!

  Route 77 went very straight for many miles after they left Sugarcreek. The hum of the engine, the sound of wheels flying over the pavement, plus her lack of rest the night before, lulled her into a deep sleep.

  When she awoke, she was startled to discover that it was her own snores that had awakened her.

  She sat up straight, glanced out the window, and was relieved to discover that they were still alive even though Darren hadn’t slowed down one bit.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  “West Virginia,” he said. “You were asleep for a long time. Feeling better?”

  Bertha wasn’t sure. What she felt was uncomfortable.

  “A bathroom break would be welcome,” she said, with dignity. “Although it is not yet an emergency.”

  “Thank you for letting me know.” He glanced at her, smiling mischievously. “Whatever you do, don’t wait until it is an emergency before you tell me.”

  A rest stop was coming up, and he pulled in. She and Anna went to use the facilities. It tended to take Anna a long time. Bertha hoped he didn’t get impatient, but when they got back to the car, Darren had his head leaned against his headrest and appeared to be asleep.

  She wasn’t sure what to do, but the minute Anna opened the door to the backseat, Darren came instantly awake.

  “Are you all right?” Bertha asked.

  “I’m right as rain,” he said, cheerfully, as he started the car engine. “That’s a little trick I learned over the years. A short catnap every couple hundred miles or so, and I can drive almost indefinitely.

  This made her nervous.

  “Whenever you get tired,” Bertha said, “We can stop at a motel. I have enough money to pay for two rooms. I don’t want you to drive when you are tired. I have read that it is as dangerous as driving drunk.”

  “I’m not tired,” Darren said, checking over his shoulder as he backed out of their parking spot.

  “Would you like a sandwich?” Bertha asked. “Lydia packed a very nice lunch for us.”

  “I’m not hungry. When I do get hungry, I usually just go through a drive-through.”

  Bertha was appalled. Who knew if those Englisch teenagers who worked at fast-food places ever washed their hands? She thought the possibility iffy at best.

  Bertha clucked her tongue. “Anna, please hand the cooler to me. We need to make sure our driver is fed.”

  “Peanut butter and grape jelly on Lydia’s homemade bread?” she held up a thick sandwich wrapped in waxed paper.

  “Wow,” he said. “The good smells coming from that cooler has caught my attention. “What other kinds of sandwiches are in there?”

  Bertha investigated. “Egg salad, ham, cheese, and meatloaf. Plus some fruit and fresh veggies and oatmeal-chocolate chip cookies.”

  “Meatloaf.”

  “Good choice,” Bertha said. “Lydia’s meatloaf is especially delicious.”

  Darren expertly unwrapped the sandwich without taking his eyes from the road. “It’s been years since I’ve eaten a sandwich wrapped in waxed paper. Why doesn’t Lydia use those little zip-lock sandwich bags?”

  “She thinks waxed paper makes the sandwiches taste better,” Bertha said. “I can’t tell one way or another.”

  Darren’s first bite brought an ecstatic roll of his eyes and a sigh of appreciation. Bertha wished Lydia was there to see him wolf it down.

  “Lemonade?” she asked.

  He nodded and finished chewing his last bite as she handed him a napkin, then a small bottle of lemonade.

  “Is there anything that Lydia makes that isn’t delicious?” he asked after he’d drained the bottle and wiped his fingers.

  “Pizza.”

  “Pizza?”

  “Yes,” Bertha said. “She attempted pizza once, and that turned out very badly. We decided she would leave that dish to the experts, and we gave it to the chickens.”

  “Did the chickens like it?”

  “Chickens eat bugs,” Bertha said. “What do they know?”

  He chuckled. “That’s a good point.”

  “Do you want anything else?” she asked.

  “I’m good for now. Aren’t you and Anna going to have anything?”

  “A little later,” Bertha said. “We had a big breakfast.”

  She handed the cooler back to Anna, who sat it down on the seat beside her and then continued to happily watch the world whiz by from the back seat of Darren’s car.

  Satisfied that she had done all she could for now and that Darren wasn’t going to slow down, no matter what she said, Bertha decided she might as well take another nap. She settled down, closed her eyes, lost consciousness for what felt like o
nly a few minutes, and then startled herself awake again—only this time it was her mind that awakened her, serving up a new concern.

  She was worried about Darren. He had been driving for a long time now, and she had read about how sometimes drivers fell asleep at the wheel and wrecked. Sitting up straight, she resolved to not let that happen!

  Horses and buggies were so much safer! If an Amish person fell asleep, the horse either kept going and took them home, or it stopped entirely and stood still. At the very worst, wandered around a bit.

  Horses did not crash into other horses while going seventy miles per hour!

  Instead of napping, Bertha decided she needed to stay alert and make sure Darren did, too!

  Chapter 36

  Haiti

  1963

  As Bertha got to know the children under her care, she learned that many who had come in off the street were not true orphans. Many had at least one living parent or grandparent. The reason they were there was that many of their relatives were subsisting on fewer financial resources than Bertha thought possible. Many of the children had been brought in by relatives who simply could not feed them.

  Those first months, in addition to receiving a social and cultural education, she learned about health problems that went far beyond her training. Life was fragile in Haiti. There was so much that could take a person from being well one day to dying the next. There were diseases in Haiti that she’d never heard of in Ohio.

  The more she learned, the more she fought to protect the children under her care from the ravages of all the germs and microbes determined to hurt them.

  She rarely got a full night’s sleep. Some viruses would sweep through the place, and before she knew it, several children would be feverish and calling for her. Or calling out for a big sister or brother or mother who was no longer in their lives. Rarely did they call out for a father, and that fact saddened her. So many men, unable to carry the physical and emotional load in this impoverished nation, abdicated their position in their children’s lives and drifted away.