Second Chances (20 page)

With her back to her sister, Anna shut her eyes and said a silent prayer to God for
an extra dose of patience. Her usual ability to remain calm and composed, under even
the most stressful of circumstances, was being stretched today, and it wasn't even
7:15 a.m. Although she always rose to the occasion to tend to the ill or injured,
Anna felt resentment building inside of her, causing her to count to ten and actually
let out a sigh before she could address her sister.

When she had awoken that morning, Anna had felt refreshed and vibrant after finally
sleeping soundly through the night. Her dreams had taken her back to Charm, to the
creek that ran behind her father's property along the dip of the neighbor's property.
As a child she had often walked barefoot through the water, looking for small frogs
or pretty salamanders. Until her mother passed away, she often played with Elizabeth
and Mary. But when their mother died and their father put so much
responsibility
on Elizabeth's shoulders, their personalities had changed and their relationships
divided. Elizabeth became more matronly, almost a psychological replacement for
their mother; Mary became the helpless, hapless youngest child. Lost in the middle,
was Anna.

In her dream the three Eicher girls walked together, no differences or role delineations
separating them.

Shortly after awaking, however, reality returned. She was not a young girl and her
sisters were no longer her playmates and friends.

“Anna! You can't leave me. I'm sick!”

Slowly turning around, Anna managed to maintain an even tone as she responded. “I've
been looking forward to attending the worship service. I'd be ever so disappointed
if I missed it, Mary.”

She had arisen early and taken great care to properly pin the front of her black
church dress before combing her long dark hair so that it shone. When she twisted
it into a neat bun at the nape of her neck, not one hair was out of place. Her black
prayer
kapp
, the one she wore only to worship, rested comfortably on the back of
her head. Everything about her appearance spoke of her desire to attend the service
with the others. Unfortunately something was missing—there was not one ounce of
sympathy on Mary's face.

“Must you have someone stay with you, then?” Anna asked. “I'm sure you'll feel much
better in a few hours. Most likely you'll sleep, anyway.”

Smoothing the sheet around herself, Mary pursed her lips and scowled. Clearly the
idea of being left alone was not to her liking. Anna should have known better. Her
sister wasn't one to sit in the shadows without being
noticed. When they were children,
Mary loved the attention of adults and pandered to their laughter. As she grew older
and was no longer the cherubic toddler, she resorted to tantrums and tears. While
their mother had known how to handle her, she had been the first and the last to
do so.

“You know how I've been feeling, Anna. Especially in the mornings.” Mary rested her
hand on her stomach, the slight bulge underneath the sheet visible, indicating what
she hadn't acknowledged yet. “I'm in a strange house and might need something. I
wouldn't even know where to look!”

Anna gave a short laugh. “As if I would?”

“You know what I mean. Besides, you are, after all, the most reliable person for
tending people's needs.”

Immediately a cloud hung around Anna's shoulders, a formidable fog of disappointment.
There would be no sense in arguing with Mary. She never did, for Mary always won;
persistence trumped selflessness every time. Taking a deep breath, she tried to clear
her mind, hoping to think of a counterargument against her sister's request. Unfortunately,
her mind went blank. With a deep sigh Anna acquiesced and agreed to stay at the Eshes'
farm in case Mary needed her.

“Let me go tell the others,” she finally said. “They're waiting for me.”

She shut the bedroom door behind herself and headed down the stairs. She knew that
everyone was waiting in the kitchen. They had been ready five minutes ago when Anna
realized that Mary was not among them. Cris had started to walk up the stairs to
fetch his wife, but Anna
offered to go in his place. She knew that, in her delicate
condition, Mary often fought off the morning sickness.

At the bottom step she paused and forced a smile. Six pairs of eyes stared back at
her, each one dressed in their Sunday best: a sea of black dresses and suits. “She's
not feeling well and won't be attending the service.”

“Poor lamb.” Rebecca shook her head, genuinely expressing sympathy. “She did look
a bit peaked yesterday after the horse auction, I must say.”

Leah and Hannah exchanged a look, ignoring Rebecca's concern.

Likewise, Cris gave an exasperated sigh. “Reckon I'll need to stay with her too,
then.”

“
Nee
, Cris,” Anna said quickly, holding up her hand to stop him. “She's requested
that I stay. I don't mind.” She knew it wasn't true, but she also knew that God would
forgive her for saying so. She didn't want anyone else to feel as if they should
sacrifice attending the worship service.

Despite Anna's words, Hannah stepped forward. “Oh, Anna, you were so looking forward
to attending worship! Let me stay in your place,” she offered.

But Anna knew better than to agree to Hannah's offer. If Mary requested that Anna
nurse her, it was best to oblige her. “
Danke
, Hannah, but no,” she replied, noticing
Freman scowl as if finding her words distasteful. Without a word, he turned his back
on the group and silently slipped out the door. Anna wondered at his reaction but
kept her attention focused on the others. “It's better if I stay . . . since that's
her wish.”

Less than fifteen minutes after they left, walking to the service since it was nearby,
Anna settled into a chair, her
own Bible in her hands. Since Mary was no doubt sleeping
and most likely wouldn't even call upon her, Anna sought comfort in the Psalms.

The transgression of the wicked saith within my heart, that there is no fear of God
before his eyes. For he flattereth himself in his own eyes, until his iniquity be
found to be hateful. The words of his mouth are iniquity and deceit: he hath left
off to be wise, and to do good. He deviseth mischief upon his bed; he setteth himself
in a way that is not good; he abhorreth not evil.

Thy mercy, O
LORD
, is in the heavens; and thy faithfulness reacheth unto the clouds.
Thy righteousness is like the great mountains; thy judgments are a great deep: O
L
ORD
, thou preservest man and beast. How excellent is thy loving kindness, O God!
therefore the children of men put their trust under the shadow of thy wings.

They shall be abundantly satisfied with the fatness of thy house; and thou shalt
make them drink of the river of thy pleasures. For with thee is the fountain of life:
in thy light shall we see light. O continue thy loving kindness unto them that know
thee; and thy righteousness to the upright in heart. Let not the foot of pride come
against me, and let not the hand of the wicked remove me. There are the workers of
iniquity fallen: they are cast down, and shall not be able to rise.

She shut her eyes and leaned back in the chair for a moment, reflecting on the words.
Oh, how she wanted God's mercy. She tried to walk in His light and knew that, like
every other person, she was a sinner. Even that morning, when Mary had requested
that she stay to comfort her, Anna's initial thought had been self-centered
instead
of philanthropic toward her sister's morning sickness.

Even the previous day, when she had watched Freman talking with Hannah and Leah,
she envied his attention. Instead of yearning after what she had so carelessly thrown
away, she should focus on being satisfied with her own lot in life, the one that
a loving and kind God provided to her.

With her eyes shut she silently prayed for Mary's health and also for her own salvation.
She wanted to walk in the light and not with the wicked.
Only then
, she thought,
might I rise to righteousness and please God.

An hour later she set aside her Bible and went about preparing a light broth for
Mary. She glanced at the clock and knew that the worshippers were most likely listening
to the first preacher of the day. She tried not to think about what message he was
giving to the congregation. Instead she hummed one of the hymns from the
Ausbund
.
The words kept her mind preoccupied as she poured the broth into a large coffee mug.

Anna climbed the stairs and peeked around Mary's door. Seeing her sister's eyes were
open, she slipped into the room. “Are you awake now? I've brought you some broth.”

With a great deal of effort, Mary sat up and positioned a pillow behind her back.
“
Danke, schwester
.” She reached for the coffee mug and for a moment seemed puzzled.
Then, in a rare moment of pleasure, she smiled. “How clever of you! A coffee mug
for broth!” Puckering her lips, she blew on the liquid before sipping it. Another
smile. “See, Anna? You are more conscientious than anyone else!
How could I have
anyone else tend to me when I'm feeling so poorly?”

The compliment was almost as rare as her smiles.

“Are you feeling better then?”

Mary shook her head. “
Nee
, I'm not. But the broth will help settle my stomach.” She
took another sip then handed the mug to Anna to set upon the nightstand. “I do believe
that yesterday just took its toll on me, all that time at the auction and with such
noise.”

“
Mayhaps
more sleep might help?”

Mary slid back down and nestled her head into the pillow, shutting her eyes. “
Mayhaps
,”
she mumbled. “I do so hate these first months of pregnancy! You have no idea how
dreadful it is to feel so sick!”

No
, Anna thought as she stood by the bed and stared down at her sister.
I do not.

There was a bitter taste in her mouth as she quietly exited the room, her sister's
words echoing in her head and hurting her heart.

Certainly after the worship service, the Eshes and their guests would stay for the
fellowship meal. Afterward Benjamin and Freman would visit with the young men, introducing
Cris, while the women helped to clean up the plates. On their way back to the Esh
farm, if they did not stop to visit with another neighbor along the road, Freman
would certainly walk alongside Leah, for Cris tended to favor his younger sister,
Hannah, when Mary was not around.

The clock on the shelf in the sitting room ticked, the sound loud in the silence
of the house. There was not much for Anna to do. On Sundays women were not permitted
to quilt or crochet since it was an activity that did
not focus on fellowship or
God. Her eyes already ached from having read the Bible all morning, and her stomach
rumbled from hunger.

By noon, she needed to get out of the house. The early-morning chill had gone from
the air, and the afternoon promised the warmth of an Indian summer. Anna opened a
few windows as well as the front door to let in fresh air. Then, after checking on
Mary, who still slept soundly, Anna slipped outside and wandered toward the barn.

Not having grown up on a farm, she found the atmosphere of a dairy barn both interesting
and relaxing. While the Eshes derived most of their income from farming the land,
certainly a nice income came from the thirty black and white cows that lined the
barn.

There was a pungent odor in the barn, but she didn't mind it. It reminded her of
Charm and the farms surrounding her father's house. It was a musky smell with a
sharp hint of ammonia to it. She knew that most of the tourists wrinkled their nose
at the smell and commented about it. Back in Charm, the Amish often made remarks
about how the
Englische
enjoyed the fruits of their labor without appreciating the
actual labor itself. The remark stuck with Anna, for she knew it to be true.

Careful that she didn't get any manure or dirt on her dress, she leaned forward and
tugged gently on a cow's ear. It looked at her, its deep brown eyes so soft and gentle.
Never once did the cow stop chewing, its pink mouth moving in a steady rhythm:
chomp,
chomp, chomp
. Anna laughed, a soft sound that caused another cow to lift its head
and stare at her.

“Am I interrupting you, then?”

She jumped at the sound of Freman's voice. Spinning around, she pressed her hand
to her chest and took a step backward. “You scared me!”

The corner of his mouth twitched as if he wanted to smile.

“You are back already, then?”

He nodded his head. “Leah and I walked back to see how you fared. When we couldn't
find you in the house, I offered to see whether you had gone out to the barn. She
brought a plate of food for you, in case you were hungry.”

“That was kind of her.” With a final glance at the cows, she started forward and
walked beside Freman toward the barn door. Outside, the sun warmed her face and she
squinted in the light until her eyes adjusted. “I trust the service was nice?” she
asked as they strolled towards the house.

He nodded. “A good preacher, Deacon Lapp. I've missed his sermons.”

She had forgotten how long Freman had lived in Leola. He would be used to the different
style of sermon which, she had heard, focused on how their daily behaviors needed
to mirror God's Word. Bishop Troyer, however, tended to preach about the sacrifices
Jesus made for their salvation.

“We do become so used to the familiar that we aren't often open to new or different
things,” she said absentmindedly. “But I would have liked to have heard his sermon
anyway.”