Planted with Hope (13 page)

“
Ja
. I've met her a few times, and I asked Joy to return her quilt that she lent me.” Hope's mouth circled into an O. “She's okay, isn't she?”

“Oh,
ja
. It's nothing like that. She simply stopped by and asked Noah to tell you to come by the fabric shop sometime. She says she has something for you.”

Hope smiled. “That is nice of her.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I wonder what it could be?”

“Quilted garden stakes?” Lovina laughed. “Then again, I'm surprised no one has thought of that yet.”

“
Ja
, well, that would be interesting. I'll stop by later today, after I write up my seed order. I've been looking through the catalogs at every chance.”

Lovina pointed to a gray folding chair leaning against the back of the warehouse. “I brought that for you. I thought it would make it easier to sit and write everything out.”

Hope stroked her chin. “You think of everything, don't you? I can't imagine a better big sister.”

“Took me twenty-five years to hear you say that!” Lovina chuckled as she called back over her shoulder. “Enjoy your dirt.”

“It's soil,” Hope mumbled as she sat down with a notebook. “Dirt is what four-year-old boys dig around in.” And she couldn't help but smile, too, as Lovina disappeared around the corner.

Hope eyed the beds, feeling as if she'd just been given the greatest gift of her life. She'd been thinking about what she wanted to plant over the last two weeks. She'd even looked up planting schedules for Florida gardens at the library, but she'd almost been afraid to plan. But now she could get started in earnest. With the large raised boxes she had as much space as a large garden, half of her space back home. She copied the layout on the notebook, and then began to fill the boxes.

Pole beans, okra, eggplant, and green peppers in one box. Lima beans and cantaloupe in another. She was writing “tomatoes and green onions” in a third box when footsteps sounded behind her. It was an older gentleman, one she'd seen around town. She believed he was a full-time resident, but she couldn't be sure. He was a shorter man, and instead of an Amish shirt he wore a short-sleeved shirt in plaid. He wore dark rimmed glasses, and his short cropped hair was more gray than brown. She guessed him to be one of the Mennonite men in town.

The man pushed his glasses farther up his nose. “I hear that you're putting in a garden here.”

“
Ja
, it's so
wunderbar
. My sister set it up for me.”

He approached and stood over her shoulder, reading her notes. He nodded in approval. “
Ja
, that will work.”

“Why, thank you… ” She grimaced.
I didn't realize this was a joint effort.

“Are you going to plant asparagus? Rhubarb?”

“I wasn't thinking rhubarb, but asparagus could be a possibility.”

“
Ne
, don't do that. Neither of them grow well in Florida. Don't even waste your time.”

She nodded. “
Ja
, okay. I won't.”

She waited for him to leave. When he didn't, she pretended he wasn't there. She wrote “carrots and radishes” in another box and tried to think through the rest of the spaces. It didn't work. His nearness caused her chest to tighten. She forced calm, rhythmic breaths and told herself to focus on the stillness of this place. On the quiet.

“It's good to see that the boxes run north and south… ”

“
Ja
, then the exposure to sunlight is even for all rows.”

“You know a bit about gardening.” His glasses slid down his nose, and she resisted the urge to push them back up for him.

Then, over the noise of a truck rumbling down the road in front of the pie shop, she heard more voices approaching. Two women were talking loudly and discussing gardening. Hope heard one urging the other to join her in walking behind the pie shop to take a look at the new garden there.

Please keep going. Please keep going.

She turned back to her new friend, who continued to hover close. “Gardening is my favorite thing to do.” Hope caught the man's gaze and forced a smile. “I love the stillness. I love working
alone
with nature… ” She rose. Would it be rude to excuse herself and finish her planning at home? Would it be rude to put up a
NO TRESPASSING
sign? If she were back in Ohio no one would dream of going onto another person's property and walking through their garden. What made it all right here?

As expected, two women rounded the corner, approaching. They paused, and smiles filled their faces to see the nine long raised garden beds.

Hope recognized one of the woman as Vera Chupp, their
neighbor. The other woman looked so much like Vera that Hope was certain she was a sister or a cousin.

“So it is true?” Vera approached with quickened steps. “It's so exciting to see such a nice garden. I do believe it'll be the largest in Pinecraft.”

“It's so wonderful that you're doing this.” The other woman wore a forlorn look. “I think all of us miss our gardens back home.”

“Oh, and it'll be especially good for the children too.” Vera reached down and slid her fingers over the silky soil. “I feel bad for those who are being raised in Pinecraft. They don't know what it's like to explore a farm or help weed a garden. In fact, I was talking to Ruth Ann just yesterday and she was saying that her niece was bored. Can you imagine that? I've never heard of an Amish child on a farm being bored.”

Tightness filled Hope's chest. Had a sign been posted near the front door of the pie shop?
We're growing a garden in back. Come take a look and offer some advice or a few precious memories!
No, but that didn't really matter. News quickly spread around Pinecraft. And it was only beginning. She trembled considering that this might be a new destination spot for those in the village.

“I'm sure most of the children who live here visit family up north sometimes,” Hope said. “I imagine the children here
are
as connected to their families in Ohio, Indiana, Pennsylvania. Maybe they do chores on vacation. Weeding for them would be fun for them,
ja
? I mean, up there… on vacation. Uh, not here.” Her voice trailed off. The last thing she wanted was to have her garden invaded by children. A shudder traveled down her spine as she imagined them digging their fingers around her new sprouts.

“
Ja
, that's true,” Vera said, “but now there's something closer to home, isn't there?”

The women walked through the cement block rows, and as they did they talked again about their own gardens up in Indiana. The sun beat down on Hope. She touched the top of her kapp, and it was warm. It wasn't even noon, but it was already getting uncomfortable—from the heat and from the visitors. Her perfect morning disappeared just like that.

She made a mental note to herself. On the days when she started planting she'd need to get to the garden early. Not only would it be cooler, but maybe then she'd be able to find the peace she longed for.

Hope rose, folded up the metal chair, and placed it against the back wall of the warehouse.

“I can't wait until you start planting,” Vera's friend said. “What fun it will be to observe everything. And I also can't wait to tell Jonas that you're already getting started. Do you mind if he comes by tonight to look?”

Jonas?
The woman spoke as if Hope should know who she was talking about. Was she talking about Jonas Sutter, Emma's dat?

The woman nodded expectantly, and Hope smiled, certain that Jonas had to be her brother or some other relative. So many people were related around Pinecraft, it was hard to keep track.

“
Ja
, sure. Jonas is free to stop by, but I doubt I'll be here. And while you're at it don't forget to tell him to stop in for some pie.”

“Of course. I know my cousin Clyde told Jonas about the orange cream pie. I'm not sure if he's tried it yet.” The woman's smile broadened. “I'm Wilma, by the way. Vera is my sister.”

Hope nodded, making the connection. Vera and Wilma were sisters. Clyde, Ruth Ann's husband, was their cousin. That would make Jonas… a distant relation, but that didn't really matter among the Amish.

Hope pressed her notebook to her chest, trying to hurry the
conversation along. “I'm sure Jonas will enjoy seeing that a new garden is going in. I never imagined it would be so exciting.”

A few minutes later the women left with a smile and the Mennonite man followed after them, promising to be back tomorrow. Yes, she'd have to get up early to beat this crowd.

She longed for a place of peace. She longed for a bit of quiet. And now Hope longed for the garden to be hers, and hers alone.

 

Victory Gardening, 1942

Most people in small towns and villages either have suitable garden spots of their own or can obtain the use of conveniently located small plots of reasonably good soil that are not too steep, too wet, or too shady. In most cases it is not very satisfactory to attempt gardening at any great distance from home. Inconvenience results in neglect. However, small-town and village dwellers who can find good areas near at hand can learn to grow vegetables profitably. Fresh vegetables out of one's own garden give a particular satisfaction and pleasure.
^*

^*
Victory R. Boswell,
Victory Gardens
, United States Department of Agriculture Miscellaneous Publication No. 483, Washington, D.C., issued February 1942, 2.

Chapter Eleven

You are poor only when you want more than you have.

A
MISH
P
ROVERB

T
he sun was barely on the horizon when Hope entered the garden. Three days had passed since the raised beds had been set up, and she'd spent that time discussing her layout with Dat and waiting for her seed order to be delivered. Yesterday, Hope nearly hugged the mail carrier when it arrived. Then last night she'd labeled her seed packets, collected all her gardening tools in her bucket, and now had everything ready to plant.

The streets had been quiet in Pinecraft on her walk to the warehouse. Although the Amish were known for getting up early, most were still enjoying a cup of coffee, and only a few had been out sitting on their front porches as she'd walked by.