An Amish Homecoming

by Rosalind Lauer

  “We’re here now,” Essie said, “and Harlan can fix it one-two-three. You shouldn’t have to do it alone.”

  Full of gratitude, Serena gave her cousin’s arm a squeeze.

  As they watched, Harlan managed to “tune up” all the drawers. He arranged them in order on the workbench, and then showed Serena how to inspect the tracks inside the case for splintered wood or obstructions. While she sanded the tracks on the sides of the drawers, Harlan sanded inside the dresser. After that, he showed her how to wax the tracks. “That’ll make them glide smoothly.”

  “Thanks for helping me,” she said. “And teaching me.” It was nice to have the help, but even better that Harlan took the time to show her the ropes. She liked being treated as a peer.

  “So what’s next?” Essie asked, rubbing her hands together. “Are we going to start painting?”

  “Not tonight,” Serena said, realizing that it had grown later than she’d realized. She wanted to be sure to catch Scout on his milk run.

  “Nay, but we should level the dresser.” Harlan pushed the frame lightly to reveal a slight wobble.

  “How do we fix that?” Serena asked.

  “First, we figure out which side is longer. Then we turn the dresser on its side and shave it down till it’s even.” He sifted through the tools at the workbench. “I’m sure there’s a level and a plane here somewhere.”

  Serena and Essie watched as Harlan made the adjustments. “He’s pretty handy,” Serena said. “Good to have around.”

  The lamplight shone in Essie’s dark eyes. Or maybe it was her feelings for Harlan. “I always thought so.”

  “Stop, you two, or I’ll get a swelled head,” Harlan said without looking up from his work.

  Serena showed Essie the color of the chalk paint she’d chosen, and Essie seemed so pleased. “When it’s done, our room will be tidy and colorful. Good for you, Serena,” Essie said. “Mem said you made a wonderful good choice, and she’s right.”

  Serena’s heart warmed to know that she’d made a good choice. Since Mom had gotten sick, she’d been so full of anger and pain. The panic in her heart couldn’t be quelled by her father or sisters, and she’d tried other things to stop the pain. Hanging out late with friends who could get her alcohol, she’d tossed back plenty of drinks, pushing herself until a dark numbness took over. She’d flailed and struck at the universe—“acting out,” Dad had called it. A series of bad choices.

  It was so good to know she was on the right track.

  Chapter Fourteen

  On a cool September night, Miriam took out the quilt squares and enlisted the help of the girls. There was nothing like a sewing circle to get people talking and sharing. Serena had gone off to the woodshop to work on her dresser. They had learned to limit her tasks in the kitchen, but Serena had proved to be a hard worker. Miriam was thrilled she’d found something to occupy her hands and mind. Megan was upstairs in the girls’ room, working on school assignments. Alvin had loaned her a headlight so that she could sit up in her bunk and have enough light to read. That one was serious about school.

  Although Sarah’s girls had made many adjustments, the youngest one, Grace, seemed to be the only one of the three who was still clinging to the idea of going back to the city. Miriam understood that Grace missed her father, but the girl seemed to have such a loneliness in her heart, a sadness that wouldn’t be cured by spending most of her nights alone in the city. Grace needed an angel watching over her.

  Miriam held the needle aloft as she surveyed the room of girls. It wasn’t really a quilting circle, just Annie, Lizzie, and Grace, sitting with her and stitching quilting squares. The fabric squares and batting had been precut weeks ago, and now Miriam was trying to drum up some enthusiasm for quilting. Quilts were beautiful and so practical, too! She was terrible at quilting—all thumbs—but she didn’t want to discourage her girls from learning such a valuable skill.

  “Feel that cool breeze,” Miriam said to the girls, who had their heads bent over their stitching. “Autumn is surely on the way. One of my favorite seasons.”

  “I thought you loved the summer, Mem,” said Lizzie.

  “I do. Such sweet fruits and berries, and the endless blue of a summer sky. But then in the fall, when the weather gets crisp and cool, it’s so easy to fall asleep at night. When the apples turn ripe and juicy and we press them for cider . . .” Miriam tilted her head to one side, considering. “It’s truly hard to pick the best season.”

  “I like winter because of Christmas,” Grace said.

  “That is a wonderful holiday,” Miriam agreed. “We get to spend lots of time with our family.”

  “We always spend time with our family,” Annie pointed out.

  “Do you think I’ll get to go home for Christmas?” Grace asked.

  “I don’t know,” Miriam said. “Maybe your father can come here? Wouldn’t that be nice—having Christmas with all of us together? By December we’re not going to want to give you up, even if it’s just for the holiday.” She thought she might get a bit of a smile from her niece, but Grace simply poked the needle and pulled the thread through.

  “I guess,” Grace said.

  “How’s your square going?” Miriam asked her.

  “It’s a lot of work to make the stitches even, when a machine could do it in seconds.” Grace frowned at her square as she tried to line up the needle just right. “Can’t you borrow someone’s sewing machine?”

  “We could,” Miriam said, “but then it wouldn’t be a handmade quilt. And we need a special sewing machine on account of having no electricity.”

  “Right,” Grace said. “I always forget about that part.”

  “Mem doesn’t like to sew,” Lizzie said. “But she gets credit for trying.”

  “Knitting is my hobby of choice,” Miriam agreed.

  “Can I be done?” Annie asked, holding up her square. The dirt under her fingernails caught Miriam’s gaze. “I’m tired.”

  “Did you finish a square?” Miriam asked.

  Annie handed her the square of cloth and batting she’d sewn together. The stitches looked a bit wide, more than an eighth of an inch, but it would do. “All done then. Are you going to bed?”

  “I’m taking a bath first,” Annie said, heading up the stairs.

  “A good idea,” Miriam called after her. Sixteen-year-old Annie had always been a big animal lover, preferring to spend time in the barn tending to the animals instead of learning how to cook and clean and tend house. So far, the chance to run with her friends during rumspringa hadn’t really affected Annie, who still seemed to care more about the cows, horses, and chickens than young men who might court her. But as far as Miriam was concerned, regular bathing would be a step in the right direction.

  “Who’s going to put these squares together?” Lizzie asked as she moved the needle with some skill.

  Miriam smiled at the implication that she wouldn’t be assembling the quilt. Her daughters knew her lack of skill when it came to the detailed craft of a needle and thread. “There’s going to be a quilting bee at Aunt Greta’s.”

  Lizzie’s brown eyes opened wide. “Can I go?” The children loved spending time with their aunt, and Lizzie enjoyed all manner of crafts and sewing.

  “If it’s not during school time.”

  Lizzie finished stitching and deftly knotted the thread, then peeked over at the square in Grace’s hands. “That’s very good stitching,” she said. “Especially for your first time.”

  “Not as good as yours.” Grace frowned at her stitching. “Mine is a little crooked. Ugh. It’s so bad.”

  Miriam leaned forward to take a look. “Just a little bit different, but it will work just fine. It’s like your signature. All of us sew a bit differently, but in the end, the patches are sewn together to make a comforting quilt. When a person sits under it, she won’t see your patch or mine, she’ll see a field of patches, all stitched with love.”

  Grace smoothed her fingers over the patch, as if se
eing the potential for the first time. “That’s actually really nice, a quilt stitched with love.” This time when she looked up, she was smiling. “Do you think I could do another square?”

  Miriam nodded. “As many as you like.”

  * * *

  The day that Sully came out to visit was a good one all around. Miriam enjoyed bringing family together, and that night she had a houseful! Greta and Alvin’s brother Lloyd were over to dinner with their children, as well as Alvin and Lloyd’s mother, Esther, grandmother to so many. Essie was hosting her friend Sadie, as well as Harlan, who had become a regular fixture here. Most of the children were playing a game at the volleyball net, while the adults took to the gliders on the shady porch. Greta jostled her youngest, Andy, in her lap, while her twin toddlers built a structure of blocks with Sarah Rose on the other end of the porch.

  Sam stared into the yard from the porch, his attention clearly split between the game and the porch conversation. Or was he watching Essie and Sadie put burgers on the grill? Miriam’s heart ached a bit as she sensed that he was bothered by his younger sister’s prospects of getting married before he found a bride. What could a mother do?

  No one else seemed to notice Sam’s concern, as they were wrapped up in Sully’s tales of life as a police officer in the city. Grace sat on the glider beside her father, and from the devotion on her face, it was clear that she was spellbound by him.

  And rightly so. Greta, Lloyd, Alvin, and Mammi Esther were equally charmed by Sully’s stories. His daily life was far different from their activities on the farm. Alvin asked if Sully had ever been called to a car accident, and Sully told the group he’d handled a crash just last week.

  “It was a single-car accident,” Sully said. “The car had veered off the road and slammed into a light post. Even at a slow speed, that head-on impact is tremendous. The car was crumpled like an accordion, the front hood buckled up in the air.”

  Alvin and Lloyd moved closer, wanting to hear his account.

  “I was the first cop on the scene. When I climbed on the hood to find the driver, I could see that the glass of the windshield had completely smashed and collapsed on the driver. But it was still intact, like a sheet of glitter. I reached in, and it lifted off like a blanket. It’s amazing—the technology of shatterproof glass. The driver was a young woman, turned out to be a teenager. I was worried she’d gone out of the picture, bleeding from a head wound.”

  The listeners were silent, imagining the terrible scene.

  “What happened next?” Lloyd asked, stroking his beard.

  “She started talking to me. Told me her name when I asked. That’s always a good sign.” Arms folded, Sully leaned one hip against the porch railing. “The ambulance arrived soon after that. We got her out of the wreck, and they transported her to the hospital. Later I heard that she got to go home the next day. That’s a good day on the job.”

  Esther looked to the sky, gaping in amazement before she patted Sully’s arm. “Gott is good to see you through those difficult moments.”

  Sully nodded. “I’m grateful for that.”

  “You’re a hero every day, Dad,” Grace said, beaming a look of admiration to her father.

  “A hero, indeed, he is,” Esther said. “Thank Gott you were there to help that poor girl.”

  “It’s my job to be there,” Sully said.

  “Crashes on the highway are a terrible thing,” Alvin said. “It’s always a concern when an Amish buggy gets hit by a car. The buggy weighs so much less, and it’s really just a wooden box with paint and some lights and reflectors.”

  “I’ve never handled a crash like that,” Sully said. “Does it happen often?”

  “Too often,” Lloyd said. “A fear years back a family in our church lost two children in a buggy accident.”

  “Such a heartbreak,” Miriam said.

  “But Sully’s story has a happy ending,” Esther said. “This would make a good story to send to one of my magazines.”

  “You should write about it, Mammi,” Sam said. “Send it in to The Connection!”

  “Yah!” Suddenly everyone was talking about hazards on the road.

  It was a delight to see so much admiration for Sully. Miriam could tell Grace was pleased; her face was alight with joy.

  Miriam had a smile on her face as she hurried over to the grill to help Essie tend the burgers and hotdogs. At times like this, she was grateful that she and Alvin bought large quantities of meat and stored it in their big gas freezer. Burger-making was one of the activities Alvin involved all the children in. He attached his patty-maker to the grinder and then passed each patty on to a child for packaging. Two hundred burgers at a time! Tonight they would need twenty or so.

  “How’s it going?” she asked Essie.

  “Good. I put the hotdogs on a platter, and the burgers are about done. The ribs will take a little longer.”

  “I’ll finish up. Why don’t you go in and get the bread and salads? In the fridge you’ll find potato salad and three-bean salad. And don’t forget the pickled beets.”

  Beyond the grill, the low sun cast a lemony glow over the green fields and distant purple hills. Miriam took a moment to drink in the view—one of Gott’s many gifts. The shouts of the children playing cornhole on the lawn brought a smile to her face. She was starting to remove burgers from the grill when Sully joined her.

  “Let me give you a hand with that.” He picked up the heavy platter and held it for her. “We don’t want to lose any in the dirt.”

  She smiled. “You won everyone over with the stories.”

  “I try to keep people entertained. I have a question for you.” When she nodded, he continued. “It’s embarrassing, but the grandma—Mammi Esther? She isn’t Sarah’s mother, is she?”

  Miriam gave a small laugh. “No, Esther is the mother of my husband Alvin and his brother Lloyd.”

  “Phew.” Sully let out a breath. “That’s a relief. I was worried that I’d have to win over Sarah’s mother.”

  Miriam shook her head. “I forget that you never met our mem. Her name is Lois. Our father is David, and they’ve moved to Indiana.” She stacked another burger on the plate, pointed to the second platter, and he made the switch. “I miss them, but I’m grateful to Gott for the family we have nearby. Alvin has four brothers and sisters, and his parents moved to the Dawdi House, that small house over yonder, when Alvin and I were first married.”

  The old two-bedroom Dawdi House, where elder parents usually lived on the farm, sat empty on their property, just a bit of a walk around the vegetable garden and on the other side of the woodshop. Esther had lived there with her dear husband Mervin. What a joy to have them close by when Miriam was having her babies and grateful for another pair of hands to put on the coffee or start the baking.

  But four years ago Alvin’s father Mervin had passed on, and Esther had felt ill at ease in the little house they’d shared. She had moved down the road to stay with her son Lloyd for a bit. There she’d been a blessing to Greta, who had three babies in three years after a long dry spell. Miriam hoped to have her mother-in-law move back one day, but the decision was up to Esther, who certainly knew her own mind.

  “The girls seem to be adjusting,” Sully said, drawing her back to the here and now. “I can’t thank you enough for taking them in. It gives me a chance to pull in lots of overtime. I’m finally building up their college savings, and if you need more money for their food and expenses, I can do that.”

  “You’ve given us plenty of money to cover food,” Miriam said. “If they need other things, I’ll have them ask you.”

  “Are they doing okay, do you think?”

  “We’re so grateful to have them here. And I think they’re all doing fine in their different ways.” Miriam put the spatula down, and she and Sully carried the platters of meat to the long outdoor table. “Megan puts a lot of time into her schoolwork. Very dedicated. And every day, she goes on long walks. Sometimes Sam or Annie accompany her. I hear she w
alks for miles and miles. She says it’s her therapy.”

  “That sounds like Megan. Exercise is a big part of her day, and, from all those years of soccer, she loves being outside.”

  “I have to say that Serena has surprised us all. One minute she wanted to buy a piece of furniture for eight hundred dollars; the next minute, she found something free that she’s fixing up. What a turnaround! We had to push a little to get her to help around the house, but she’s always cheerful.”

  Sully smiled. “She has that sunny quality that reminds me of her mother. She can fill a room with energy, but sometimes she veers off track.”

  “Serena likes working in the woodshop. School, not so much, but she goes on the bus every day.”

  “We need to get her through high school,” Sully said. “It’s important that she finish this year.”

  “She seems to know that. And Grace . . .” Miriam turned to Sully. “She misses her dat, but she’s at the age when she really doesn’t know what she wants.”

  He nodded. “I hear from Grace a lot. She texts me most mornings when she arrives at school. Sometimes phone calls. Of all my girls, she worries me the most.”

  Miriam looked toward the porch where Grace sat with the other adults. “Grace is at a crossroads, but if she knows you’re worried, it will only scare her. I don’t know if you’re a man of faith, Sully, but worry is the opposite of faith. Some folks say: ‘Worry ends where trust begins.’ If we trust in Gott, who never makes mistakes, we can be comfortable that the outcome will be Gott’s will.”

  Sully pressed a hand to his mouth, considering. “I kind of fell away from my faith when I lost your sister. I thought God let me down. Now I feel kind of petty for thinking that way. As if it was all about me. Sarah had her time on earth. She had a good life.”

  Sudden tears stung Miriam’s eyes at the memory of her sister, a woman so full of life. How she was missed! When Sarah’s girls talked about her, their eyes filled with a special light, the love for their mother. “It was a wonderful, good life,” Miriam agreed, “filled with a special love when she met you.”