Christmas at Harmony Hill (12 page)

I
fear your relative from the world is pulling you away from us, Sister Sophrena.” Eldress Lilith made the dreaded clicking sound with her tongue as she narrowed her eyes on Sophrena.

Sophrena met her look for a few seconds before dropping her gaze to her hands folded in her lap. She was not sure how to respond. Was it young Heather pulling her from the Shaker way or her unwise feelings for Brother Kenton? Feelings that Brother Kenton gave no sign of noticing or sharing. At the thought, tears pricked at her eyes, but she blinked them away. It would surely compound her sin to allow Eldress Lilith to think she was showing remorse for the lacks the eldress was pointing out to her when her sorrow was simply an addition to her sin.

“Have you no wrongs to confess on this day?” Eldress Lilith prodded her when Sophrena stayed silent.

“I have many wrongs,” Sophrena said softly as she raised her eyes to look past Eldress Lilith’s head, out the window. Traces of ice lingered on the tree limbs in the shadow of the building, but most of it had glittered brilliantly in the burst of sunlight that had followed on the heels of the storm the next day and melted away.
If only the feelings within her heart giving her such unease would do the same. Glitter brightly for a short time and then burn away under the light of the spirit so her peace could be restored.

“A Believer must voice those wrongs in order to receive forgiveness.” The eldress tapped her fingers on the narrow table between them with growing impatience.

So Sophrena borrowed her wrongs. “I am often impatient. I wish my work done more quickly than it can be done. I tire of the sameness of my sewing tasks. I was too quick with my prayers last night when the floor was chill under my knees. I had a wrong thought against one of my sisters.” Sophrena stopped. No need in adding that her wrong thought just occurred when she had noted Eldress Lilith’s impatience.

The eldress drummed her fingers on the table yet again as she silently considered Sophrena’s list of sins. Sophrena was beginning to feel concern that she was divining her true sins that could not be spoken aloud. At least not to one so unforgiving as Eldress Lilith.

She wondered if the young sisters she had once prodded to confess their wrongs had hidden their true concerns in fear of her sternness. She sent up a prayer that it had not been so, for she would not have wanted to deny those sisters the opportunity to confess and receive proper forgiveness.

But can’t you go directly to the Lord to ask forgiveness?
Heather’s words slid through Sophrena’s mind. The girl had no interest in the Shaker way. She was wrapped completely around the new life growing inside her. She wanted family with every inch of her being the way Sophrena had once sought and found peace among her brothers and sisters here at Harmony Hill.

And now she had lost that peace by allowing carnal thoughts to burrow into her mind. Wrong thoughts of worldly love that she had once condemned in weaker-willed sisters. She did not imagine she was in love with Brother Kenton. That would be extremely foolish. But she could not deny she was wondering what it would be like if she were to love him in the way of the world. Nor could
she deny he drew her eyes and caused her heart to beat oddly in her chest. She seemed unable to talk sensibly when he came to the cabin to check on Heather, and her cheeks continually felt warm in a way they did not after he left.

She thought of dear Jessamine again and the girl’s curiosity about everything of the world. She had not regretted Jessamine leaving Harmony Hill to go to the world. The girl was not meant to be a Shaker, but Sophrena was. She was happy with her sisters. She was happy with the Believer’s love. She needed nothing more. At least she had not until she turned fifty and Brother Kenton came to Harmony Hill.

Eldress Lilith had been silent for a long time. Not a good thing. Sophrena cast around for some other wrong for which to ask forgiveness. Perhaps her weariness of spirit.

She started to speak, but the eldress held up a hand to stop her. “Nay, Sister Sophrena. Do not add words simply for the sake of filling the air between us with noise. That makes nothing better.”

“Yea, you are right,” Sophrena agreed meekly.

“Sacrifice Day is almost upon us. I will expect you to spend the day in prayer and contemplation of your shortcomings. If you have aught against a sister or brother, you must go to them and heal that breach.”

“Yea, I will do so.”

“Even Sister Edna?”

“Yea, if I have erred against her, but I have not seen her since I began caring for Sister Heather.”

“Oh?” Eldress Lilith raised her eyebrows as if Sophrena’s words surprised her. “Sister Edna tells me she sees you often.”

Sophrena frowned as she tried to remember when she’d last seen the sister. “Then she must be watching from a distance.” That wasn’t surprising. Sister Edna had always been a watcher. One intent on observing others to be sure they were keeping their feet on the Shaker way. Such a duty was needed at times, but Sophrena was glad it had never been her duty.

“Yea, that could be,” Eldress Lilith agreed with a slight motion of her hand. “Whether you saw her or not is of no consequence. What matters is what she saw. She tells me Brother Kenton goes to the cabin almost every day and sometimes twice.”

“Sister Heather’s time is near. He is keeping a close watch upon her.”

“Yea, so it seems.” Eldress Lilith clicked her tongue with disapproval. “Sister Edna says he appears to enjoy those visits.”

Sophrena pulled in a little breath and hoped the eldress wouldn’t notice the stain of red climbing into her cheeks. “Our brother has a cheerful way.” She had to bite her lip to keep from adding that Sister Edna did not. “Such has been a blessing to our young sister as she hopes for delivery of a healthy baby. That is her prayer.”

“One that might not be answered.”

Sophrena looked at the eldress in surprise. “Brother Kenton thinks all will be well.”

“I’m sure you do remember Mother Ann lost all her babies as young children. The Lord speaks truth to us in many ways.” The eldress clicked her tongue again. “Or finds ways to punish our wrong thinking.”

“I will pray he chooses other ways to correct our wrongs,” Sophrena said softly.

“Yea, that would be well. It would be good if you also prayed for right thinking and willing service.” She pushed up from her chair.

Sophrena stood quickly. “I will make that prayer.”

“Good. At meeting tomorrow you can shake away the carnal thinking that seems to be chasing after you, Sister Sophrena. Bring the young sister with you. Perhaps the spirit will fall upon her and reveal to her the error of her ways.”

Sophrena had no belief that would happen. In truth, she had no wish for it to happen. She didn’t want Heather to deny her love for her soldier husband or to be ready to surrender the baby to other sisters to raise. There was something too beautiful about the girl sitting by the fire, closing away everything around her as she looked inward toward her unborn child.

But what of salvation? Had she not accepted the Shaker life long ago as the way to salvation? Could it be that the Millennial rules and what was written in the Covenant she had signed were wrong? Sophrena sighed as the questions circled in her head. What was the truth?

I am the way, the truth, the life.
The Christ’s words from the Good Book slipped into her head. But what of Mother Ann and her teachings? Sophrena had embraced them along with the Bible teachings for many years. She had gone forth in worship and found joy in the dance. She had shaken free of worldly trappings. Or thought she had. Perhaps she had never truly conquered the lust for things of the world. Not things. Feelings. Carnal love. A seed buried deep in her heart and now watered by her attraction to Brother Kenton.

The next morning, she was up before the rising bell and tiptoed out of the sleeping room to keep from waking Heather. She poked up the coals of the fire and added wood. Then she knelt in front of the flames to ask forgiveness for all the sins she had been unable to voice aloud to Eldress Lilith. She prayed for skillful hands to help Heather when the birthing time came. Then she stopped pushing words up in her mind and instead bent her head. The fire crackled as the flames wrapped around the new wood, but in spite of that, the silence fell about her in a profound and isolating way. Heather was in the next room. Her Shaker brothers and sisters were spread about her in various other buildings, but at that moment she felt completely alone. Starkly alone.

Only one other time did she remember feeling so alone. Bereft of love. Bereft of hope. That was before she had come to Harmony Hill. Even now, after so many years, she could remember how passionately she had prayed for the Lord to show her a way to survive in the dark valley of her union with Jerome. Not even a week passed after that prayer before they came to the Shaker village. And the Lord had blessed her with joy in the love of her sisters and purpose in the pleasing work of her hands.

It had been enough, more than enough. A blessed answer to a
desperate prayer. Why now had she stepped back into that lonely valley? She was not alone. She had much love all around her. In spite of that, discontent had sprouted in her heart. Eldress Lilith would tell her that was because she had allowed a splinter of worldliness to fester there. She should have shaken such feelings away long before now. Perhaps the eldress was right. In a few hours when the meeting bell rang she would go forth to labor the songs. She would sweep aside temptation and put the devil behind her. She would ready herself for Sacrifice Day when she could cleanse her spirit to better celebrate the birth of the Christ.

“Show me the proper way, dear Lord. Rid me of sin and pluck temptation’s weed from my heart,” she mouthed the words silently.

“Are you all right, Sister Sophrena?”

Sophrena jumped at the sound of Heather’s voice. She had been so deep in prayer she had been unaware of the girl coming into the room.

“Forgive me, Sister Sophrena. I should not have disturbed your prayers, but when you gave no notice of hearing the rising bell, I was concerned.”

“The rising bell?” Sophrena looked toward the window as she got to her feet. “Are you sure it rang?” “Yes, very sure,” Heather moved closer to the fire. “It wakes me every dawn.”

“Yea, so it does, but I didn’t hear it.”

“You must have been listening for the Lord’s voice instead,” Heather said.

“Yea, a needful part of prayer.” Sophrena added wood to the fire and watched sparks fly up the chimney. A waste of proper heat.

“Did he speak to you?”

“The Lord speaks in many ways. Perhaps I will hear him at meeting today.” Sophrena turned toward Heather. “Our meetings are not open to those of the world during the winter season, but since you are living among us, Eldress Lilith suggested you might want to attend to ponder your own feelings for the Lord as we sing.”

“I can no longer hide the swell of the baby within me,” Heather said.

“Things are not to be hidden in our worship. Whatever the need, that is where the songs take us.”

“I will not be expected to dance, will I?” Heather looked concerned.

“Nay.” Sophrena laughed. “Many of the dances take much practice. You can only watch, but if you tarry with us, I will teach you some of the steps should you want to try our way of worship.”

“What is the purpose of the dances?” Heather asked.

“To move closer to the Lord and rid oneself of sin.”

“You Shakers worry a lot about sin.”

“Do you not do the same in the world?” Sophrena frowned over at Heather.

“It is not necessary for us to name them every one.”

“Does that not make your errors harder to recognize and easier to pile the dust of yesterday over them?”

“At times,” Heather admitted, then added with a smile. “Such would surely be hard to do in this place. I have not seen a speck of dust since I came here.”

“It is good to sweep clean our houses and our spirits. You will see.” Sophrena laid another piece of wood on the fire before she reached for her cloak. “Rest here by the fire while I fetch our morning meals and then we will get ready for our meeting. A person open to the spirit can find much simple joy in our songs.”

“Will the songs be familiar to my ears?” Heather lowered herself into the chair by the fire.

“Not to your ears, but perhaps to your heart.”

Sophrena went out the door into the crisp air of the morning with the lines of one of the songs playing through her head. ’
Tis a gift to be simple. ’Tis a gift to be free.

Free. Was she free?

A
fter they ate, Sophrena ushered Heather inside the meetinghouse to what she called the visitors’ bench just as the gathering bell sounded.

“You must stay seated and not interfere with the exercise of the songs,” Sophena instructed.

When Heather promised to do as told, Sophrena heeded the call of the bell and hastened out the door.

Heather rested her head against the wall. She was so tired. Her back hurt and her feet were swelling against the lacings of her shoes. She would have been content to stay by the fire and read the Bible on this Sunday morning. But Sophrena had been eager to go to meeting and have Heather accompany her. Heather could bear the hard bench and the stiff wall behind her back for a while. She almost whispered a prayer that the meeting would not go on overlong, but bit back the words. Such a prayer would not be proper. Worship was worth a little discomfort.

She wondered if Beth and the boys would be heading to church with their father for spiritual renewal on this morning. Dear Beth. Heather thought of the letter she’d received from her a few days
ago. Could Beth be right in thinking her father was feeling remorse for his unkindness? Beth claimed that was so, but Heather could not forget his cold look as he sent her away.

She turned her mind away from her father. Better to send her prayers toward Gideon who might even now be in a conflict with the Rebels. War did not take time off for the Sabbath.

Heather shifted on the hard bench and waited. She knew not for what, but even inside the big empty building there was a feel of anticipation as the bell continued to toll. Then the ringing stopped and a Sunday kind of silence fell around her, as though not just Heather but the whole village was waiting for whatever was going to happen next.

Church, she supposed, but nothing in the large open room brought to mind anything about church. Rows of benches were lined on either side of an open space in the middle of the floor. The winter light spilled in through tall windows onto the polished broad floor planks. No curtains or shades hindered the light and no rugs softened the harsh bareness of the room. Easier to keep clean, Heather supposed, remembering how the Shakers couldn’t abide dirt.

But other things that seemed necessary to worship were not in evidence either. No preacher podium. No table for a Bible or offering plates. No song books. No piano. Not the first hint of decoration of any kind, not even a sprig of Christmas greenery. At the church back home, a few of the ladies would have already tied red ribbons around cedar branches to decorate the windowsills and Mrs. Fenton would have fashioned a couple of wreaths of greenery and bittersweet berries or mistletoe for the doors.

Here there was nothing. Even the white walls were bare except for the same type of blue strips of pegs circling the room she’d noted in that other building when she’d first come to the village. No chairs were hung upside down on these. All the pegs were empty except for a candleholder by one of the doors. Identical small iron stoves stood at either end of the room. Heather considered moving to a
bench closer to the stove nearest her since the room was chilly, but she stayed where she was. She’d promised Sophrena. Besides, the silence was so profound that even the squeaking complaint of her bench as she shifted to get more comfortable sounded too loud.

Something clicked like a door opening, but the outside doors were still closed as were the two blue doors at either end of the room. Sophrena had told her those selected for the Ministry lived above the meeting room. Another slight click drew Heather’s eyes to a two-inch square door easing open above one of the inside doors.

She was not alone as she had imagined. Eyes were peering through the opening. Heather sneaked a look toward the other end of the room. Eyes were peering out of an opening above that door too, pinning her down on the bench as surely as if hands had reached out to hold her there. The eyes weren’t friendly. They weren’t unfriendly. They just were. Observing. Judging.

Heather was glad when the silence was broken by the muted sounds of singing. Then the outside doors were swinging open and the Shakers fell silent as they entered the building. The women through one door. The men, the other. Their feet made only a whisper of sound as they went across the floor to the benches, the women to her right and the men to her left. They kept filing into the room. Too many for Heather to keep count.

Only a very few let their eyes stray toward her even after they were standing silently in front of the benches. Heather looked up at the openings above the doors. The eyes there were no longer on her but instead watched the men and women standing silently in front of the benches.

Sophrena was one of the last to enter the building. Even though Heather had been watching for her, she almost hadn’t picked her out. The women all looked so the same in their like dresses with the bonnets covering their heads. But it was more than their dress. It was the way they moved and how they stood. Different heights. Different sizes, but in spite of that, so alike.

At a signal she did not catch, the men and women sat down.
All at the same time. Sophrena had told her that unity in action led to unity in spirit. It put Heather in mind of the army companies marching in step, obedient to the officers’ directions. Not so strange. She had often heard a preacher speak of the army of God. Soldiers for Christ.

She shut her eyes and thought of her soldier, Gideon. Would she ever see him again? The baby jumped inside her as though to protest her worry. She bent her head and prayed for Gideon, for them both, for them all three. She might be inside a church much different than anything she’d ever imagined, but it was still a church. A place for prayer.

A gray-haired man stepped into the center of the room between the rows of benches and began to speak. He was very thin with stooped shoulders, but when he spoke, his deep voice commanded the attention of every person in the room.

“Sacrifice Day, a time for atonement, is near. Search within yourself for every wrong. No sin is too small to be repented and plucked from our hearts. Heaven knows no sin and here at Harmony Hill we are bringing heaven down among us. Each wrong, each error in our walk, must be swept away, for good spirits will not abide where there is sin. Prepare for perfect reconciliation one with another. All grudges, hard feelings, and disaffection toward any brother or sister must be left behind. Be ready to beg forgiveness from your brethren, from your sisters, from the Eternal Father. Prepare your spirits to start afresh, for nothing which is settled on Sacrifice Day can ever be brought forward against another of your holy family. If one has done any harm, imagined or real, toward you, offer forgiveness fully and completely. An unforgiving spirit is not a Believer’s way.”

Heather hardly dared breathe. Her mother’s words seemed to be coming out of this man’s mouth straight at her. Forgive.

The Shaker man let his eyes circle around the room, landing on this or that person to perhaps prod those he knew had most need of his words. Then as if her mother were directing his eyes, he
looked straight at Heather, seeming to demand she hear and heed his words. She was relieved when he turned back to the Shakers.

“Remember our Mother Ann’s words. Labor to make the way of God your own. Let it be your inheritance, your treasure, your occupation, your daily calling.” He lifted his hands into the air and stood in silence a moment before he went on. “Now let us go forth to labor these songs with our spirits in tune with the Lord’s. May we be open to receive whatever gift of the spirit falls down upon us.”

He stepped back to his place by the bench and the other Shakers all rose to stand with him. Then they were moving aside the benches with eagerness. When the floor was cleared, one of the women began singing. Not words, but sounds. A few other sisters and then some of the men joined in as though the song was as familiar to them as a hymn would have been to the people at Heather’s church.

The Shakers began moving up and back and in circles to the sound of the voices. Part marching, part dancing as they moved to the rhythm of the song. The singers increased the speed of their wordless songs. The line dancers reversed and passed in and out and circled without touching. Their shoes whispered against the floor and the fabric of the dresses swished as they passed by Heather so close she could have touched them. She kept her hands tucked under her cloak. The singing changed, and Heather was relieved to hear words she could understand.

“Come old and young, come great and small.

There’s love and union free for all,

And everyone that will obey

Has now a right to dance and play.”

They did seem to be playing. Smiles lit up their faces as they sang. Some of the sisters began to skip. Even some of the older women with gray hair peeking out from under their bonnets. Round and round they went. All at once the mood changed. Somebody shouted a warning about the devil and feet began stomping to chase him away from their worship.

Heather’s bench jarred and bounced her back against the wall. She moved her hand out to embrace the swell of her baby. She wasn’t sure if she was protecting him from the threat of the devil in the room or the fury of the Shakers ridding themselves of even the thought of evil.

As suddenly as it started, the stomping stopped with the dancers gliding past as they pretended to sweep every corner. The song changed and with it the mood yet again. A man yelled. A woman screamed and began to tremble all over. Another began to whirl. The hysteria raced through the dancers until more than half of them were whirling and shaking or shouting.

Heather tried not to show her astonishment. Their worship was like nothing she could have ever imagined. That they danced was no surprise. Everybody knew Shakers worshiped by dancing. And it was common knowledge they were given to tremors of the spirit that shook their bodies. After all, they weren’t called Shakers without reason.

But Heather had never actually thought about how that shaking might look. Frantic and noisy, without order. Certainly nothing at all like any church service she’d ever witnessed. Even the impromptu gatherings of men out in the open in the army camps had more of a feeling of church than whatever was happening here in the Shakers’ meetinghouse.

Then one of the women spun in front of her in such frenzy that she fell to the floor. Heather was not too sure she might not join her in a swoon. Where before the room had felt chill, now it was too warm with so many whirling bodies. The eggs and biscuits she had eaten not so long ago were beginning to swirl in her stomach. She gripped the bench, willing herself to keep a steady head. Another sister fell prostrate. None of the others seemed to notice.

Heather looked through the whirling people for Shakers she’d met. Brother Kenton had a smile spread across his face as he moved his feet with abandon in a way that made her think of the jigs she’d seen in the army camps. Eldress Lilith had lost the shadow
of disapproval that generally darkened her face and peered heavenward with a look of deep contentment. There was Sister Doreen who had brought her the material for the baby’s gowns. It was no surprise that she was whirling like a child. But where was Sophrena?

At last she spotted her standing very still in the middle of the floor with her hands reaching toward the ceiling. She seemed unaware of the fervor of the others spinning around her. She was praying. Heather had no doubt of that, and although she had no idea what her prayers were, she sent her own prayers out to join them. Prayers without words just as the Shakers’ first songs had been sounds without meaning. A prayer could have meaning without words.

As though those prayers touched Sophrena, she lowered her hands and looked through the Shakers spinning around her straight at Heather just as the Shaker man had earlier. Not with judgment as he had, but with love mingled with sadness as though she might be divining sorrow coming. But Heather didn’t know if the sadness was for herself or for Heather or even maybe a reflection of Heather’s sorrow for her mother.

Letting her shoulders droop then, Sophrena leaned forward and shook her arms in a copy of the motion of those around her. Then she twirled, but slowly and with none of the frantic joy in the movement that some others were showing as they spun around like giant tops.

Heather pushed up off the bench. She did not belong here. She had no choice but to stay in the village until Gideon came home from the war, but it was not right for her to be here in their meeting. Better for her to find a quiet spot and fill the hour with earnest prayers. It was not her place to be judging the manner of their worship. That was between them and the Lord. Nor did she need a Shaker man telling her to forgive. Her mother’s words echoed through her head often enough with that message.

Before she went out the door, she looked back at Sophrena once more standing stiffly in the midst of the motion around her. On her face was that same mingled look of sadness and love she
had given Heather moments before. Something about her looked so very alone that Heather wanted to thread her way through the dancers to wrap her arms around her. But she did not. Instead she went out the door and down the steps away from the building.