Miriam and the Stranger (40 page)

Yah,
Miriam told herself. That was more like what she felt. Miriam pulled Jonathon even closer until Uncle William finished a few moments later. They all knelt, and Uncle William read the usual evening prayer. His voice rose and fell with the familiar German words. Miriam let her mind lift heavenward as she prayed her own prayer. “I want to do Your will, Lord. It’s strength that I lack. I know that I have failed both You and Mose, so please forgive me and help me.”

A measure of peace settled over her. Uncle William soon said amen, and they all sat up again, but no one moved to go except Jonathon, who dashed off the couch to play upstairs.

Aunt Fannie finally looked her way to say, “Maybe you should read your letter from Mose now, Miriam. You’ve been under a cloud ever since I gave it to you.”

Miriam took a deep breath. “
Yah
. I’ll go into the kitchen, but I think I’m okay. The devotions tonight helped a lot.”

Aunt Fannie’s compassionate gaze followed her. Miriam didn’t dare look at her aunt too long lest the tears come. She opened the envelope. The letter wasn’t long, but Miriam still sat down to read.

Dear Miriam,

Greetings in the name of the Lord. I hope this finds you well.

Miriam stopped and stared at the wall. Was Mose changing? He had never begun a letter like this. Miriam blinked the tears away and continued to read.

I have been doing the usual things around the farm. Spring will break soon, I hope. This has been a hard
winter for us in Wayne County, and as always one must not complain but be thankful for what the Lord sends.

But to the point of my letter. I received correspondence from Deacon Phillips today, in which he reported that you have not been well in mind or spirit for some time. This, of course, troubles me greatly. Deacon Phillips did not say what the reason was for your ailment, but he did imply that our relationship might not be the best. I’m not sure what that means, but I do have my opinions on what the problem could be.

I wish you had written me yourself about this, but perhaps the shame of your ill health was too much for you to disclose. Deacon Phillips’s letter has brought me many troubled thoughts as you can imagine. We have already been through so much, Miriam. As you know my journey toward you began when I first visited Oklahoma on the advice of your now brother-in-law Glen Weaver. I don’t want to scold Glen because he did what he thought was best. I also know that your
daett
praised you highly, as did the community in Oklahoma. I wish to leave all that as it is and pray that the Lord will bless them and that you will be granted
gut
health in the future.

But I think it is best if we break off the engagement, Miriam. With your fragile condition, it might also be better if I offer no explanations. Believe me, I regret this deeply. I had looked forward to having you here in Wayne County as my
frau
, but sometimes it’s time to admit that a wrong road was taken and to make
amends. I will not hold any hard feelings toward you, as I have already moved in the direction the Lord has revealed to me, and I might say, to others of the ministry in our district, and this is how things should be.

So may God bless you, Miriam, as He has blessed me.

Sincerely,

Mose Stoll

Miriam’s hand shook. She stood to her feet and clutched the chair for support. The warmth from the evening’s devotions disappeared into thin air. She was clearly unworthy of a place by Mose’s side as his
frau
. Mose had finally done what he should have done when she kissed Tyler that first time. Her moral failure had been great, and Mose was right to come to his senses.

Miriam entered the living room with the letter in one hand. Her voice sounded distant, and her ears rang. “I guess I should have let you read it first.” Miriam handed the letter to Aunt Fannie. “I have failed completely.”

Uncle William stood up to read over his
frau
’s shoulder. Miriam waited with her hand on the couch to steady herself.

A soft smile filled Aunt Fannie’s face when she looked up. “Maybe it’s for the best, Miriam. Things weren’t going well anyway.”

“You’re just being kind,” Miriam whispered.

“Fannie speaks the truth,” Uncle William echoed. “The whole community has been very concerned about this, Miriam. Perhaps this is the Lord’s way. Mose wished you nothing but the best, and I’m sure you feel the same about him.”

Miriam nodded, unable to speak.

“Many of us in the community have been much in prayer about this.” Aunt Fannie reached over to touch Miriam’s arm. “I wrote
your
mamm
about the matter, and she wrote back to say they support whatever happens, and now Mose has made his decision. We must accept this as the Lord’s way.”

“But I’ve…” Miriam stopped. That she was a failure was obvious, and yet no rebuke was written on either Aunt Fannie’s or Uncle William’s faces. They appeared concerned, but there was no scorn. The tenderness from Aunt Fannie’s touch still lingered on her arm. Miriam slid down on the couch, and her aunt came to sit beside her. They clung to each other while Uncle William stood vigil by the rocker.

“Do you feel better now?” Aunt Fannie studied Miriam’s face once she let go.

Miriam didn’t answer. She didn’t know how she felt. Maybe she was a little relieved that she would not see Mose again—at least not anytime soon. No longer would she have to wonder if she met the standard as Mose’s promised
frau
.

“Come.” Aunt Fannie took Miriam by the arm and led her back into the kitchen. “Sit,” Aunt Fannie said. “I’m going to make you hot chocolate, and we’re going to talk.”

Miriam’s legs wobbled as she sat down at the kitchen table. Aunt Fannie busied herself with the kettle and brought over the bowl of hot chocolate and a bag of marshmallows from the pantry. While the water heated, Aunt Fannie sat down beside Miriam. In a kind voice she began, “This is hard for me to say, Miriam, but I have to confess that I was wrong about Mose. I told you so awhile back, but I want to make myself clear now. I misjudged the man completely. I know he’s a bishop, and some unmarried woman will likely make him the perfect
frau
, but that’s not you. William and I have spoken at length on the matter, and we have consulted often with Deacon Phillips and Katie about your condition. We are all of the same mind. We knew that at the very least some changes would have to be made in your relationship with Mose.
This is what Deacon Phillips said in his letter to Mose, but none of us tried to end the relationship. That was up to Mose and you, and Mose has obviously decided you were too much trouble for him. That was his loss. You’re in no way to blame for any of this.”

Tears stung Miriam’s eyes again, and Aunt Fannie gave her a quick hug. “Don’t cry, dear. I know you looked at this as some sort of endurance test, but marriage is not supposed to be like that. A man and a woman must walk in love with each other and the Lord. Mose wasn’t treating you right, Miriam. And if he doesn’t want to change, it’s best if he ends the relationship as he’s done. Can you believe that, Miriam? Can you hope a little again? All of us want that cheerful, happy Miriam back who used to bless our community so greatly.”

“But what is to become of me?” Miriam whispered. “When I get old, I will always remember this failure. Think of what you’re saying, Aunt Fannie. I could have been a bishop’s
frau
, but now I’ll be just a withered-up old maid.”

Aunt Fannie laughed. “I don’t think that will happen. For one thing, you can always remember that a bishop once courted you, but he wasn’t
gut
enough. That’s a much better way to look at this.”

Miriam attempted a smile, but the tears crept down her cheeks instead. “I have to get well somehow, for the sake of my schoolchildren if for no other reason. Will they scorn me when they find this out?”

“No one will scorn you,” Aunt Fannie assured her. “We will feel only joy in our hearts when we see smiles fill your face again.”

“I’ll try,” Miriam muttered.

“Nay,” Aunt Fannie chided. “You don’t have to try anymore. We will help you. All of us will with our prayers and with our thankful hearts. We’re glad, Miriam, that you live among us.”

Miriam hid her face in her hands. “You shouldn’t speak like that.”

Aunt Fannie ignored the protest. “And I want to say this also.
Bishop Mullet and the rest of the ministry deeply regret the decision to place you in the
bann
. They feel it was done in the heat of the moment when things appeared badly for Tyler’s reputation. But Tyler has come back often since then, and he’s tried to make right what he could. The man’s character has impressed both Bishop Mullet and Deacon Phillips.”

Miriam looked away. “Tyler has nothing to do with this.”

Aunt Fannie ignored the comment to continue. “Did you know that Mose wanted you to be in the
bann
for another week, but our ministry refused? Of course they all have to work together, so what happened, happened, but I wanted you to know that. You are greatly loved here, Miriam.”

Miriam lifted her face and wept silently.

Aunt Fannie waited a few moments before she spoke again. “Another thing. I’m now free to say that Tyler has asked to court you, Miriam. He has spoken at length with Deacon Phillips, but he was told it was a forbidden subject while you were engaged to Mose. He was also told that no one would interfere, other than to ask that Mose make some changes in his attitude toward you. Tyler seemed to think that would end your relationship with Mose, and apparently he was correct. Tyler has also asked to join the community, Miriam. I know you’re in no condition to respond to that news, but I didn’t want to dribble it out bit by bit in the days ahead or have someone else tell you.”

Miriam choked back the sobs. “I have also failed Tyler, and I’m in no condition to see him again. You should know that.”

Aunt Fannie nodded. “That’s why we’re going to help—William and I, and Deacon Phillips and Katie. You won’t have to walk this road alone this time. I’m not expecting you to say anything tonight, or even anytime soon. You must get well first. Come, the chocolate is ready and we can relax better in the living room.”

“Will you tell Tyler this—what Mose wrote?” Miriam pointed toward the letter now resting on the tabletop.

Aunt Fannie smiled. “I wouldn’t show him the letter, but I think Tyler should be told that your relationship with Mose is over.”

Miriam took a deep breath. She didn’t want to think anymore, but the image of Tyler’s face rose in her mind. She saw him as he drew close that Sunday afternoon in her buggy. Miriam stood with a shaky hand held tightly on the kitchen chair. “
Yah
, you should tell him,” she whispered.

Chapter Forty

T
he bright sunlight of an early spring Sunday afternoon filled Aunt Fannie’s living room. Miriam unfolded the two letters that had arrived earlier from Possum Valley and placed them carefully in her lap.

“Going to read them again?” Aunt Fannie teased from her rocker.

“Must be really
gut
stuff in them letters,” Uncle William joined in. “Almost as
gut
as this popcorn you made.”

Miriam smiled at both of them but didn’t say anything. The warmth of her uncle’s and aunt’s concern had enveloped her these past few weeks, and words weren’t always necessary. They knew the letters from
Mamm
and Shirley had blessed her deeply, and
yah
, she would read them again.

Miriam opened the letter from
Mamm
and read:

Our dearest daughter Miriam,

My heart overflows with joy after your last letter and the one from your Aunt Fannie. We had been so concerned about how things were going, and I cannot tell you how relieved we are that you’re feeling better. I understand that everything still isn’t exactly right and may not be for a long time. Life on this earth is rarely perfect, but the grace of the Lord is with us through it all. As you know, this has always been a great comfort to me.

I feel bad about all the things that have happened to you. It’s no excuse to say we didn’t know about them at the time, but we honestly didn’t—and I guess it was for the best. I don’t think we could have done anything, and I would only have worried. I still can’t believe you were in the
bann
for a week and no one told us. You must have suffered terribly. Why didn’t you let us know? I thought the letter we received in December sounded a little down, but that’s normal sometimes over the busy Christmas season. And you had just been home for Shirley’s wedding, and of course we had such high hopes for Mose and you. Maybe that’s what blinded us to what was happening right under our noses. I know you haven’t said anything against Mose, and I wouldn’t want you to, but I should have seen things more clearly. I know that now. A mother knows if she takes the time to look and listen. For this I am sorry, Miriam. I hope you can forgive me.