A Shining Light (6 page)

“And I've seen how they solder the buckets, too.” Lukas looked at me, his eyes shining with excitement. “Since you know where I am now, can I stay awhile longer?”

Brother Dirk's lips lifted in a half smile. “It is up to you. I am glad to have him here with us. He is not a bother, and until he begins going to school with the other children, he has little else to occupy his time.”

I wasn't certain Lukas would be going to school in West, so I didn't respond to Brother Dirk's final comment. Instead, I glanced around the shop. The host of items being created there was truly astonishing. Patterns of every size and shape hung on the walls, and the heavy workbenches were covered with tools and partially completed projects. While I was impressed by the obvious talent of the tinsmith, the machinery and tools could prove dangerous to a child. Still, despite my earlier accusations, Brother Dirk appeared reliable, and it was true that my son had little to occupy his time while I worked in the Küche.

“You can remain until you hear the bell ring for supper. Then you must hurry back to the Küche.”

He nodded, and I thought how odd it was that our lives had become controlled by bells. The day we arrived, both Lukas and I had learned that when the bell clanged, it was time for something to happen—time to get up, time to eat meals, time to go to work, time to attend prayer services, or time to go to bed. The bells helped keep everyone in the village on schedule.

I tousled his sandy-brown hair. “If you don't return when you
hear the bell, there will be no more visits to Brother Dirk's shop. Do you understand?”

Lukas bobbed his head, but it was Brother Dirk who said, “I will see that he returns on time. Both Werner and I eat our meals at the Goetz Küche, so we will go to supper together.”

Lukas clapped his hands and I turned toward the door. Whether out of fear or disbelief, Werner, the young apprentice, had been silent since I'd entered the shop. As I prepared to depart, he stepped forward. “Would you please tell me about the city where you lived? I think I would like to live in a big city some day.”

I glanced at Brother Dirk, assuming he would not want me to remain and keep the boy from his duties, but the tinsmith gave a slight nod. “I will tell you a little, but I must return to the Küche in a few minutes, or Sister Erma will begin to worry about my whereabouts.”

Using my poor German, I explained that my husband and I had moved to Baltimore, where Fred first worked on the docks and later became a sailor on one of the large vessels.

“The work is hard and the pay is meager, but that is true of most any work, especially for the unskilled. My husband was a farmer before we moved to the East Coast. Those skills didn't help him make a living in a city that relies upon the fishing and shipping industry.”

Werner's smile faded. “What other work is in that city of Baltimore? I do not think I want to work with the fishing or on a ship. Maybe I need to go to another city. I want a job that will pay gut money.”

While I couldn't be sure, I feared Werner might not be the brightest young man in Amana. I looked at Brother Dirk for confirmation, but he'd gone back to work.

“No matter the place you live, without a skill, you won't earn a
high wage.” I glanced at Lukas, who was tracing his fingers along the edge of a large kitchen ladle. “The three of us lived in one small room on the third floor of a dilapidated building where we could barely afford to exist. The area near the docks was unsafe, and there was no police protection for us. It was a terribly frightening place to live. Not like this peaceful village. It is hard for me to explain all of the problems you will likely encounter if you leave without a proper plan for your future.”

Werner's lips drooped as I related my experience, but I didn't want to give him a false impression of what he would discover in the outside world. “I would not want to return there unless I could afford to live in a much safer part of the city.”

“And then you would go back?” Werner's lips lifted a bit.

“I don't know, Werner. I'm not keen on large cities. But if it is your plan to leave, you best have enough money saved to support yourself for at least several months. There's no telling how long it will take you to find work. And if you haven't some trade, any work you find will pay a meager wage.”

The boy's shoulders sagged, and I knew he'd been discouraged by my comments. But I couldn't mislead him. Our life had been hard in Baltimore, and I wouldn't let him believe he could walk away from this place and easily support himself in the outside world.

I glanced at Brother Dirk as I started toward the door. His eyes shone with a look of appreciation, but I wasn't sure why. Was it because I'd taken time to speak with Werner, or was it because I'd reinforced the things he'd likely already told the boy? I couldn't be certain, but I liked this man who appeared to have a kind and nurturing heart.

Lukas arrived at the kitchen house with Werner and Brother Dirk, but instead of taking a seat at the table where the outsiders ate their meals, he scooted in between the two men. When I crooked my finger and signaled for him to come and sit at the outsiders' table, he turned away and acted as though he hadn't seen me. For a moment I considered going across to the men's side of the dining hall and escorting him back to the proper bench, but such an act would draw too much attention.

I lifted my gaze and was met by Brother Dirk's kind blue eyes. He placed one hand on Lukas's shoulder and gave a slight nod that seemed to indicate Lukas could remain with him. Though I wasn't happy with the arrangement, I nodded and returned to the kitchen.

“Lukas has returned?” Sister Erma continued to heap boiled potatoes into large bowls as she asked about the boy.

“Yes, but he's sitting on the men's side between Brother Dirk and his apprentice instead of sitting at the outsiders' table.”

“Ja, well, the two of you are not exactly outsiders. You are both living in the Küchehaas. Brother Dirk is a gut man. If Lukas needs correction, Brother Dirk will teach him the proper way of doing things.”

Her comment was meant to mollify my worries, but it had little effect. Correcting and teaching Lukas was my responsibility, not a task to be assigned to some stranger. I swallowed my rebuttal and followed the other women into the dining hall, where we bowed our heads while one of the elders offered a prayer of thanks for the meal. As soon as he uttered amen, the helpers and I scurried back into the kitchen. We picked up the overflowing bowls of potatoes and green beans and the platters of roast pork to be placed on each of the tables.

The men's door leading into the dining hall opened, and I looked up to see Brother Bosch enter the room and take his regular place at one of the tables. He cast a quick glance across the room, and I wondered if he was looking for his wife. I found this custom of men and women eating at separate tables odd, but I'd soon learned that not only did men and women enter separate doors and eat their meals at separate tables, they did the same when they attended church meetings. One door for the men, another for the women. Hard wooden pews on one side of the meetinghouse were designated for men and those on the other side for women.

When I questioned Sister Erma about the practice, she explained the separation was something that had begun long ago.
“We believe that a man or
woman can devote more of themselves to God if they
do not have a spouse or children who need their
time and will frequently fill their thoughts.”

I had been amazed by her reply, for many of the colonists were married.

Noting my surprise, Sister Erma continued.
“The elders do
not prohibit marriage, but there is a year of separation
once a couple has permission to wed—to make certain
they are strong in their love and commitment.”

If Fred and I had tested our commitment in such a manner, I doubt he would have taken his vows. Instead, he would have headed off for Baltimore without me. The thought gave me pause. The man I thought I was marrying seemed to vanish when he started drinking in Baltimore only a few months into our marriage. If we hadn't married, I wouldn't have suffered his abuse, but I wouldn't have Lukas, either. And I would have suffered most anything for my child. Still, to wait and be sure there was a strong commitment before taking marriage vows held a great deal of merit.

When I returned to the kitchen, I drew near to Sister Erma. “I saw Brother Bosch enter the dining hall. It is a surprise he is here for the evening meal, isn't it? What do you think his early return means?”

Sister Erma scraped the last of the potatoes into a bowl and then swiped her hands down the front of her apron. “I cannot say for sure. It could mean the elders had few matters to discuss. Or it could mean they came to a quick resolution to all of the problems facing them.” She shrugged her shoulders and handed me the bowl. “Take this to the men's table, and then we will eat our dinner.”

While placing the bowl on the table, I kept my gaze fastened upon Brother Bosch. I had hoped he would give me some sign of how things had gone, but he didn't look in my direction. I would have to wait until later to hear how the elders had responded to my questions.

As soon as the meal was over, we all stood and the same elder offered an after-meal prayer before the men and women began to depart. Although I still needed to clear the tables, I rushed out the women's door and waited until Brother Bosch descended the steps leading from the men's door. Several men surrounded him, so I waited at a distance until they finished talking to the elder and left.

I called to him as he turned to walk away. He glanced over his shoulder and waited until I drew near. “I was hoping to speak with you about the meeting with the Grossebruderrat today. Were you able to present my concerns to them?”

“Ja, I did. The elders are sympathetic to your situation, Sister Andrea, but they cannot undo what has already occurred. Your Vater signed a contract and received full payment for his land, the house, and other buildings located on the property. We are in possession of both the contract and the receipt signed by your Vater that shows he received payment. The elders are willing for you to review the documents, if you wish.” He removed a pipe from his jacket pocket and filled it with tobacco. “As for the money paid to your Vater, they have no way of knowing what subsequent arrangements he made. They suggest you inquire at his bank or with any other relatives. He may have confided in one of them. Unfortunately for you, there was no additional money due to your father. He was paid in full.”

My spirits plummeted. I had hoped to hear the full sum had not yet been paid. Though I knew it was unlikely, I had hoped for some pittance to help Lukas and me begin our life anew. “There are no other relatives, Brother Bosch, and my father didn't trust banks.”

“Still, you should make certain. Having received such a large sum of money at one time, he may have changed his mind. I'll
see about having one of the men take you to Marengo in the next few weeks so you can check.”

“The next few weeks? I hadn't planned to remain in the colonies that long.”

He arched his brows. “You have someplace else you can go?”

His question dropped around my neck like a heavy weight. “No. I have no place, Brother Bosch.”

His lips tightened around the stem of his pipe, then curved in a smile. “The elders said you are welcome to remain in West until you decide upon your future. There is no time limit to their invitation. We are in agreement that your situation is different from that of most outsiders who come to the village seeking seasonal work.” His steady gaze radiated warmth. “While you remain with us, you will be treated as one of us.”

While I understood this was a meaningful gift from the elders, I wondered what would be expected in return. “Exactly what does that mean, Brother Bosch?”

He removed the pipe from his lips. “It means you may freely interact with members of the society and that you and your son will have the same privileges as our members. If you decide you would like to attend church services, you will be permitted; if you wish to attend quilt gatherings with the other sisters, you may do so.” He pointed the stem of his pipe at my clothing. “You already dress much like the rest of us. After a time, you may decide you wish to permanently make a home with us.”

“That is most kind.” I added my thanks for his time and hurried off before he could see the tears beginning to form in my eyes. Deep inside I had hoped that even if the elders had paid my father all that was due, they would see fit to give me some additional money so that I could be on my way—an act of Christian charity. But the charity they offered was in a different and unexpected form.

I would never earn a wage while living in the colonies. Granted, there would be a stipend at the general store for my necessities, but going to another town without money for room and board would be out of the question. Besides, who would hire me? I might find work waiting tables or cleaning rooms in a hotel, but how much money would that pay? Certainly not enough to support my son and me. Like Werner, I had no skills that would earn me a livable wage.

I returned inside and trudged toward the kitchen with a sagging spirit and an ungrateful heart. Somehow, I needed to develop a plan for my future, but how could I do anything without money?

If only my father had kept me informed about the sale of the farm and what he'd done with the funds he received. But fathers didn't share such details with their daughters. That sort of thing was meant to be discussed with sons—and there was no son with whom my father could share information.

Sister Erma looked up when I entered the kitchen. “From your downcast face, I am guessing Brother Bosch did not have gut news for you.”

I hiked one shoulder. “He told me what I'd already heard. The contract was signed, the money was paid, no one knows what my father did with the money, and there is nothing that can be done to help me.”

Sister Erma gasped. “You mean they are going to make you and Lukas leave?”

“Nein. Their offer was quite generous. We have permission to remain as long as I want to stay, and the elders even agreed that Lukas and I should not be treated as outsiders. Still, I don't know how I will ever be able to leave if I can't earn any money.” I dropped onto a chair near the worktable.

“Who can say what the Lord has planned for you, Sister Andrea. You should pray and seek His guidance. In gut time, He will reveal
what you need to know. For now, be thankful for warm food and a safe place for you and your son.”

“I'm sorry. I know I sound ungrateful for all you and the others have done for us. I truly appreciate your kindness, but—”

“No apologies are necessary. I am pleased to have you and Lukas in my home, but I hope you will take my advice and ask God to guide your future.”

Unlike Sister Erma, I didn't think God cared about my future. After all, I'd done my share of praying while we lived in Baltimore, and God hadn't protected or guided me back then. Instead, I'd been left to fend for myself. God had more important things to occupy His time, and I no longer put much stock in prayer. It didn't seem to change anything—at least not for me.

The following week, Brother Bosch stopped at the Küche while we were cleaning up after breakfast. “I have arranged for Brother Dirk to take you to Marengo so that you may inquire about your Vater's money at the bank. I was going to take you, but my rheumatism is causing my body to ache. You should be ready to go with him in a few minutes. Take the boy with you. Is not gut for only the two of you to go alone in the wagon.” He looked at Sister Erma. “I hope this does not cause you any problems in the kitchen, Sister Erma.”

The older woman continued hanging the clean pots on the hooks above the worktable. “She is a gut worker, for sure, but we will make do until Sister Andrea returns.”

Sister Greta, one of the kitchen helpers who appeared to be a year or two younger than I, frowned. “With Sister Ursula already released from her duties because of her baby, it will mean even more work for the rest of us.”

“Is not for you to decide, Sister Greta. I did not ask for your opinion.” Sister Erma motioned for Sister Greta to continue washing dishes, and though she did as she was told, her sullen look remained.

I wasn't sure why she was angry. I'd had nothing to do with Brother Bosch's decision. The elder's announcement had come as a complete surprise to me. Since arriving, I hadn't given much thought to his suggestion that I make inquiries at the surrounding banks. Probably because I was sure my father hadn't placed the money in a bank. However, if Brother Bosch wanted to provide me with a wagon and driver, I wouldn't argue. It would be good to spend a few hours away from the kitchen.

Brother Bosch held one hand against his aching back as he walked to the door. “If you do not locate your Vater's money, Sister Andrea, you should for sure think about putting your son into the
Lehrschule
. He needs to be learning with the other children. Brother Dirk says the boy is bright and already understands much of what is said to him in German.”

I appreciated the older man's concern regarding Lukas's education, but I hadn't yet committed to remaining in the colonies. I told myself it was better if Lukas didn't become integrated into the community until I was certain about our future. And I'd been doing my best to help keep him current in his studies. Brother Bosch was correct, but I simply wasn't prepared to make my decision—not yet.

Sister Erma followed me to the dining room, where Lukas was sitting at one of the tables practicing his handwriting. I stopped and touched her arm. “Why is Sister Greta angry? Have I offended her in some way?”