October song (5 page)

Rebecca didn’t know firsthand, but she’d heard enough ‘bout the sorrow of being’ a leader over the People that it was surely a sober responsibility, overseeing the church community thataway. “A bishop’s wife needs encouragement, I’m sure.” She thought for a moment. “Does John often share the burden with you?”

Mary nodded, then frowned. “Not much. SometimesIwish he would share more.”

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They talked a gut half hour or more, then Mary began telling Rebecca how she lies next to John at night, her heart breaking nearly in two sometimes when she hears the bishop’s deep sighs, taking the needs of the People ever so seriously. “Not always, but sometimes in the morning, his pillow is damp with tears, so I put it in front of the wood stove to dry.”

Rebecca found herself glancing toward the stove for the bed pillow, but there was none this day. “How areyoudoing, Mary?” she asked.

Mary forced a smile. “If you mean, am I happy as John’s wife, iah, I am.” “Well, now, it’s right nice seeing the love

between the two of you but how are

youfeelingthese days?”

That opened the floodgates again for poor Mary, who broke down when she told of wanting to be a good mamma for John’s children, but struggling some days, tryin’ her best to meet the needs of everyone in the house.

“That’s what a gut wife and mother does,” Rebecca said. “A gut bishop, too for the People. But sometimes things catch up with a person. There’s more to life than busyness. Rest is important . . and a gut book now and then.” She hoped she was

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helping, by what she said. “It takes some doing, pacing oneself.”

“I just seem to keep pushing myself here lately,” Mary confessed.

“Well, why don’t I come over a couple afternoons a week for a while, let you spend some time by yourself while I cook supper . be there for the children after school and whatnot.”

“Would ya?” Mary brightened.

Rebecca nodded. “You’re the type of woman who always sees things to do. I know, I’m the same way. And Katie’s a lot like that …. ” She stopped herself. Hadn’t wanted to bring up her daughter. Not today.

Mary’s eyes widened. “Oh . howisKatie?”

Sighing, Rebecca pushed ahead. “She and Daniel seem happy as larks. They’ve found a ministry Katie says they’re both ‘called to.’ Mennonites have a different view on church music, ya know.”

Mary seemed to understand. “Next time you see Katie, will ya tell her I pray for her

every day that she’ll come to repentance?”

Rebecca didn’t knouT what to say to that. Truth was, Katie and Clan seemed content to “serve the Lord” in their new church.

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She wondered if the time might come when her “saved” daughter and son-in-law returned to the Amish church, but she was hesitant to say much more to Mary, who seemed so eager that it might be so.

“Next time I talk to her, I’ll tell her what you said.”

Mary fell silent, gripping her coffee cup too tight, it seemed. Then she added, “I miss Katie more than I can say. Would love to see her again.”

Lest words fail her and both women end up grieving outwardly, Rebecca said no more.

“Haven’t found such a dear friend as Katie in any of John’s sisters, and no girl cousin comes even close,” Mary con tinued.

Sitting there in the quietude of Mary’s big kitchen, the beauty of the fields stretching out to the sky outside the window, Rebecca thought ‘twas the sad dest thing she had witnessed of late, this misery on Mary’s face. “We must re member that it was Katie who leftus

she’s the one who broke her baptismal vow to God and the church,” Rebecca said.

“I never thought she would show such discontentment,” whispered Mary, weep ing softly.

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Reaching out to the young woman, she touched Mary’s hand. Surely the bishop’s wife was dwelling on the problem of Katie and Dan’s car ownership and them playin’ their guitars hither and yon — that they’d forced the People’s hand by embracing the world and all it had to offer. Had they merely gone off to another church, the chances of lifting the shun might’ve been something of a consideration. But owning and driving a car, embracing electricity and music — and breaking their baptismal vow — that was the biggest problem. Such action confirmed a restless spirit, one seeking after worldly things.

“Maybe you and Gracie Eli’s wife will become close friends,” Rebecca said.

That brought a smile to Mary’s face. “Invite her over sometime, jah?”

Rebecca agreed. “I hear Gracie’s got a nice way with a story.”

“There’s onlyonestoryteller in the hollow.” Mary squeezed Rebecca’s hand. “We all know who that is.”

“Well, this here Teller ain’t getting any younger. There’s always room for another, I daresay.” Then, thinking on it, Rebecca had an idea. “Let me tell you a true story right now,” she said softly. “Maybe this’ll help some.”

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Mary blew her nose and listened, the lines in her brow softening a bit as Rebecca began to describe a close relationship be tween identical twin sisters, “who lived in Somerset County in the Laurel Highlands of the southern Allegheny Mountains

where the big thing is to churn butter by hand. ‘Course, there were other festivals, too, like the Maple Festival in April and other craft-related ones at other times during the year.

“Well, these girls grew up sharing nearly everything — the same bedroom and hob bies, going to singings and hoedowns, at tending quiltings and work frolics. Never, ever apart.

“Along ‘bout the time when Fannie and Edna started taking their baptismal classes so they could join church come fall, Edna met a young man outside her church dis trict and began spending time with this New Order Amish fella named Perry Mast. ‘Course, the friendship caused a rift be tween the twins — the first ever along with a big stir in the community. Truth be known, Perry, a best friend of Edna’s Men nonite cousin, loved Edna and was bound and determined to take her as his wife, even after both Fannie and Edna bowed their knees before the bishop and were

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baptized ‘before God and these many wit nesses.

“Even when Fannie begged Edna not to marry Perry ‘Won’tcha find a nice Amish boy?’ she pleaded Edna ran off and married him anyway. But then, that wasn’t the worst of it. Any sin, no matter how small, must be dealt with if it causes disharmony amongst the People. So her parents and the preachers called on Edna and asked her to confess her sin to the Lord and make gut on her promise to God and the church, but she would not return to her Amish community. Yet again, one of the preachers approached her ‘bout her leaving her vow behind. And her parents pleaded and cajoled her.

” ‘Course, by now, Perry, her husband, was starting to get a bit peeved, all these folks comin’ over, saying his bride was a sinner and all.”

Mary stirred a bit. “What happened then?” she asked.

“The membership voted to shun Edna. Said she could never have anything to do with her twin sister again. ‘Not in this life, and only in the life hereafter, if you will but confess your sins and repent’ was the warning given.

“One year passed, then another, and

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both Fannie and Edna became sick with grief, suffering so that Edna had to see a doctor, who said she needed a good dose of visiting. ‘That’s all that’s wrong with you,’ he said. ‘You’re homesick for your family.’ “

Mary looked a bit worried. “What did the sisters do . . surely they didn’t dis obey the shun?”

“Didn’t dare do that, ‘cause Fannie was afraid of the Bann falling hard on her next thing. So the girls arranged for a mutual friend, a go-between, to visit one and then the other, delivering messages. That didn’t suffice, though, and it wasn’t long before Edna developed a crippling form of ar thritis and she and her new family moved

away from Pennsylvania.”

“Where’d she go?”

“Last I heard, somewhere in Arizona.”

Mary’s eyes were wide. “Did they ever see each other again?”

Rebecca was sorry, but she had to shake her head. “Such a sad story ‘tis, the tearing apart of beloved sisters, all due to disobe dience.”

“Sin has its way of separating,” Mary said. “I know that all too well.”

“Fannie, far as I know, hasn’t stopped praying for Edna to come to her senses.”

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“Then they’re still living?” Mary

asked.

“Nigh unto their mid-seventies now.” “Are they relation to you?”

Not wanting to reveal just how close a kinship Fannie and Edna were, all Rebecca said was, “They’re some of Samuel’s cousins.”

It was Mary’s turn to wonder. “Does Katie know this story?”

“Many a time, I told it when she was little. So my daughter knows it well, and if she listened — and I ‘spect she did — she surely understands ‘bout the freedom to return, to ask forgiveness.”

Mary folded her hands reverently. “I don’t see how our Katie could go and do near the same thing as Edna.” She sighed audibly. “I just don’t see how… “

Rebecca hadn’t told the story to upset Mary further. No, but now that she looked into Mary’s face, she could see there was a glimmer of hope. The young woman had taken the story to heart. There were others who’d walked the agonizing road Mary now trod, yet they hadn’t lost heart, trusting the Lord God heavenly Father for grace and mercy.

“You’re not alone in your grief, Mary. We’ll keep remembering our loved ones in

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prayer, each and ev’ry one.” Pausing, Rebecca looked out at the trees shedding their autumn finery, depositing crisp heaps of red and orange leaves on the ground below. ” ‘Tis not our place to try ‘n’ force an erring one home,” she said finally, reaching for her coffee cup.

Mary got up quickly. “Here, let me pour you some more.”

“Denkithank you, Mary,” was all Rebecca could say just now. The Telling had taken ever so much out of her. Far more than she’d expected.

Rebecca assured Samuel that Mary seemed to be doing all right. She didn’t tell everything that had been said between the two women. Not that Mary had asked for her confidence, ‘twasn’t that. She just felt the things Mary had shared about the bishop his heavy burden for the People

wasn’t something to bring up just now. “Mary needs a close friend, someone to take Katie’s place until . ” She couldn’t finish. Too painful, it was.

Samuel pushed up his glasses. “Well, now, I wouldn’t be looking for Katie to confess anytime soon; Clan neither. Prob’ly won’t at all.”

She eyed her husband, this man who was

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known to follow every jot and tittle of theOrdnung.She shouldn’t have been too sur prised at his statement. “Once electric gets its grip on a person, well. and automo biles, too. Jah, you’re prob’ly right,” she agreed.

“There’s much more to it than flirting with modern ways.” He was close to making a point. She could see it in the way he set his jaw, put down his paper, and began rockin’ in the chair to beat the band. “I’ve seen it time and again folk who leave the church only to claim they have salvation. They don’t usually return to the Old Ways. If they profess that their sins have been forgiven and they’re on their way to heaven . . well, I’d say they won’t be kneeling before the membership in re pentance.”

“Whyisthat, do ya think?” Honestly, Rebecca wanted to know how the “assur ance of salvation” doctrine taught in cer tain groups could seize a person, so as to confuse their minds. The Old Order be lieved in thehopeof salvation, as taught in the book of Ephesians.

“Between you and me, I’ve been reading parts of the New .Testament, tryin’ to see just what it is Katie’s got that’s so different from how she was raised. All I can say is

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‘Strait isthe gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.’ “

Rebecca took that to heart. Samueldidbelieve their church was the one and only. Yet, Katie had openly shared the life-changing experience that had “set her free,” as she put it. Right convincing, it was. Her daughter had declared that peace wasn’t found in doing good works, not even in following Old Order rules, but in giving your heart wholly unto the Lord Jesus, accepting God’s “gift of salvation.” Sounded simple enough, if true. Yet, why did Samuel fight it so?

Samuel rose from his chair. “If they’d just stayed away from the music . and the car.” He said it softly, maybe hoping not to be heard.

Sadly, she watched her husband hobble through the kitchen toward the front room, where he fell into the chair nearest the window. Prob’ly staring out at the splendor of leaves and sky, ever grateful for a bountiful harvest and a time of rest for the land and its caretakers.

On another day she would raise the issue of Benjamin’s future here as a farmer. Maybe it’d be best told in story form a young man finds and marries a Plain girl

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and settles into the elder parents’ house, them moving over to the Dawdi Haus.

Looking in on Samuel, his eyelids a-drooping now, she let him be. While he snoozed in the sunshine, she would drive horse and carriage to a telephone somewhere, give her Katie a call. After that, she might stop in to see how Eli and Gracie were getting along. Time she got better acquainted with her new daughter-in-law, storyteller ‘n’ all. Time she encouraged Gracie to pay a visit to the bishop’s lonely wife. Jah, she’d do that today. This fine autumn afternoon in Hickory Hollow.

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Down Hid or Lane

A little work, a little play,

To keep us going — and so, good day.t

— Daphne du Maurier

Her late husband had always said a body oughta smell like dirt at the end of a spring day. Well, here it was well into autumn, and Ella Mae smelled so strong of the soil she wouldn’t be waiting till Saturday night for a bath.

Against her doctor’s orders, she’d spent part of the afternoon digging round in her flower garden, pulling up dried-up stems, planning ahead for next spring. ‘Course, her Dutch hyacinth bulbs would be sprouting to life come next April, and she looked forward to the star-shaped, fragrant florets, brilliant in blues and pinks. And her rock garden — well, she had big plans for that next spring and summer. Some times she felt like an artist when it came to coordinating her plants and flowers, lettin’