Along Wooded Paths (22 page)

Marianna took a deep breath and placed a hand over her heart, wishing she could calm the wild beating. The thing was, the feeling remained. It had eased after she’d called Ben, but it hadn’t gone away.

“I just thought it would be a good idea that Ben drive down the hill. Just to check to make sure Jenny made it down the road all right.”

With a swipe of her finger, Sarah knocked over the cup of pennies, scattering them. “I heard that, but what did you mean about feeling like God wanted you to call Ben?”

Marianna shrugged. “I, well, I can’t explain.” She sucked in a deep breath and thought about how Ben interacted with folks—Englisch and Amish alike—with boldness. More than once she’d heard fearless words come out of his mouth, even though the look in his eye told her he was worried about how his words would be taken.

But Sarah was Amish. Marianna knew how she would respond. Still, she had to say something. Had to try. It was as if the stirring within wouldn’t let up on this, either.

Marianna took a deep breath. “Well, I’ve been reading a Bible—an English Bible. And the more I read, the more I understand that God wants us to have a relationship with Him that extends even beyond Sundays. It’s not that I’m saying that I know better than our ancestors. Their faith was strong, I know. So many gave their lives for their beliefs, but sometimes I wonder if we spend too much time focusing on the rules rather than the One who gave them. And just now . . .” She turned and pointed to the phone. “As strange as it seems, I feel as if God wanted me to be worried about Jenny. He wanted me to call Ben and ask him to check.”

There, she’d said it. Now she waited. Had she lost a friend?

“An English Bible?” Sarah cocked her head. “Really?”

Marianna took a step toward her. “I know it’s not German but I understand it better, and for some reason I have a feeling since God went to the trouble of speaking His message to people, and getting them to write it down, that He wants us to understand.”

Sarah nodded but didn’t say another word. She just turned and walked away, hurrying to the kitchen with eager steps, as if putting Marianna quickly behind her would put this nonsense behind her too.

Marianna didn’t know what else to do but to follow Sarah into the kitchen and get to work. Part of her was angry with herself for not watching her words. She was used to talking that way with Ben. The words just spilled out. But she had to remember there were others who didn’t understand, just as she previously hadn’t understood.

She looked at the list that Annie had left for them. Banana bread. Peanut butter pies. Whole wheat bread. From the looks of Sarah’s measuring and mixing, she was already busy on the whole wheat. Marianna decided to make the pie crusts. They were the most time consuming, and Sarah liked them least.

She was getting the shortening from the pantry when Sarah turned to her. It wasn’t anger in her friend’s gaze, or even confusion. Instead Marianna saw excitement there. Maybe even joy. Marianna’s footsteps stopped short.

“I have to tell you something. I can’t keep it inside any longer.”

“
Ja
?” Marianna continued to the counter and placed the shortening on it, then went to the drawer for a measuring spoon.

“I’ve been praying about this, Marianna. Praying for someone to talk to. Someone who would understand. My parents and I have been reading an English Bible too. I’m the oldest at home now. My older siblings are gone and married. And sometimes the three of us, Dat, Mem, and me will read it together at night after the little kids have gone to bed.”

Marianna’s jaw dropped.

“There’s something else too.” Sarah stepped nearer and took Marianna’s hands. She leaned close to her face and her eyes sparkled as if she were about to reveal the hiding place of a buried treasure.

“On Monday nights there is a prayer meeting. It’s down the road from your place at the Carashes’ house. My family has gone nearly every week since September, and we’ve worried your folks can hear our horse and buggy when we pass. There are some Amish families who attend, but mostly Englisch. We read God’s Word together and pray. We pray a lot. We pray out loud.”

Praying out load? With the Englisch? Marianna’s mind tried to comprehend what her friend was saying. “But—but that’s not allowed.” The words sputtered from her lips.

Sarah cocked an eyebrow. “Well, is an English Bible allowed?”

Marianna moved to the shelf with flour. She pulled down a Tupperware container and put it on her workspace. “No, I suppose not.”

Sarah didn’t say anything else. She went back to making the bread. Marianna set to work on the pie crusts, her mind racing. Part of her hated to hear Sarah was sneaking out, doing that. If it ever got out to the Amish community, it would be another bit of gossip to share.

And the fact that all this was going on right down the road. She could imagine what people would say about that. Pretty soon folks would be saying
her
family was sneaking out to go to prayer meetings too—then she wouldn’t be able to marry Aaron Zook if her life depended on it.

As she worked, she thought about Sarah’s family. Why had they started reading the English Bible?

Thirty minutes passed, and she began rolling out the dough into perfect circles. Many emotions had coursed through her during those thirty minutes: worry, excitement, confusion, curiosity. Another emotion stirred in her too. Desire. Was there more to God? Could she go deeper with Him? What would it be like to pray aloud to God in a room filled with other folks? Would she experience even more of God? If so . . .

She wanted that.

Was it even possible to get more of God? His love draped over her, especially when she prayed or read the Bible. How could more fit? But maybe there was more room.

Who else was at the prayer meeting? What had she been missing? Did Ben go? Her Uncle Ike? Sarah had said Amish
families
, which must mean more than one other family. She rolled the dough and in her mind’s eye she clicked through the names of the Amish in the community.

Who else hid a truth they should be shouting from the top of the snow-covered pines outside the window?

Marianna was going to ask more questions, but Edgar showed up with customers trailing him—the familiar early birds like Millie, and Jebadiah, and Uncle Ike who were always looking for a fresh cinnamon roll, coffee, and conversation. And as she poured each one a cup of coffee she studied their faces.
How about you? Do you go? If I happened to make my way down the road, would I see you there?

Ben drove, amazed by how much his truck slid even though he had snow tires and he’d filled the truck bed with bags of sand for more traction. Marianna was right to be worried. No one should be out on these roads. Ben made it nearly to the bridge. Should he follow the road all the way to Eureka—?

Wait. What was that? A spot of red light and movement in the ditch on the side of the road. Ben slowed his truck to a crawl and angled the headlights onto the car.

His heart pounded. It was Jenny’s car. She stood behind the vehicle, clad in only a thin jacket. She held a large stick in her hand. As his truck neared, she dropped the stick and started waving her arms.

Ben parked and, leaving his truck running, climbed out and hurried toward her.

“Jenny, you okay? Where’s Kenzie? Is she inside the car?”

Jenny’s eyes were wide, and she had a far-off look in her gaze. “Ben, is that you?”

“Yes.” He pulled her red hands into his grasp.

“Kenzie’s in the car.” Jenny blinked as if she still wasn’t sure she trusted what she saw.

“What are you doing?”

“The exhaust pipe. It was under the snow, but I needed to keep the car running to keep Kenzie warm. I had to clear it, otherwise that exhaust would have filled the car and killed us.”

“Smart girl, but you don’t need to worry about that now. I’ll give you a ride home and we’ll figure out how to get your car out after this storm.”

Jenny nodded and then sobs shook her shoulders. “Oh, Ben.” She nearly fell into his arms. “I was so worried. I was almost out of gas. I was afraid no one would find us.”

Ben wrapped his arms around Jenny’s shivering form. An urge came over him to protect her. To see that she was warm. To make sure she stayed safe.

“It’s okay. You and Kenzie don’t have to worry any longer. God was watching after you. Now let’s get you someplace warm . . . and then we can talk about how I ended up here. I think you’ll like the story.”

Dear Journal,

You’ll never believe what happened today. God used me to save the lives of two people. I can’t tell you what it felt like when Ben walked through the door with Jenny, shivering and crying, and a sleeping Kenzie in his arms.

We wrapped them up in blankets and then warmed them by the fire. Annie cooked them a huge breakfast, three times as much as they could possibly eat. Millie called a tow truck and told Jenny she would pay for her car to be pulled out of the ditch—as soon as the storm let up, of course. I was busy waiting on customers, but I couldn’t help looking at the mother and daughter. I couldn’t help but to think about what could have happened if I hadn’t paid attention to that feeling deep in my gut. They could have froze. They could have died. I’d like to think that if I wouldn’t have paid attention that God would have alerted someone else, but I’m not sure. I suppose I’ll never know.

After the lunch crowd left, Annie offered to drive Jenny home, but before she left, Jenny gave me a huge hug. “Ben told me how you listened to God, Marianna. How you called Him. Makes me wish I were Amish too in order to know God like that,” she said to me.

I was trying to explain that being Amish had little to do with that when a customer interrupted, needing a quick order to go. By the time I’d finished helping the woman, Jenny was already gone. I’d carried around the knowing all day though—and it’s with me even now. The knowing that God maybe wants to show me Himself in ways I hadn’t known before. That’s good, because I’m wanting to be shown.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Marianna dropped three letters into the mail outbox at the store. Aunt Ida, Mrs. Zook, and Rebecca would all appreciate them, but she was amazed she’d been able to find enough news. Even though she filled pages in her journal every night, she had few things she dared share with her friends and family members in Indiana.

To Mrs. Zook, she’d written about Aaron’s care and how he seemed to be healing. To Aunt Ida, she’d written about the quilt Aaron helped her design. To Rebecca, she shared about the mountains, the snow, and family life. With each, she’d held back what she wanted to talk about most—her struggles over caring for Aaron and Ben, each for different and unique reasons. She also didn’t share about her new friendship with Jenny and how her heart went out to the young mom. She didn’t mention much about working in the store and the community of people she considered friends. She wished she could have mentioned her conversation with Sarah and how Amish families here were seeking God in new ways.

More than anything she would have loved to talk about how God was changing her heart, and how His love made her look beyond how folks dressed or whether or not they were Amish, and rather focus on their needs.