The Miting: An Old Order Amish Novel, page 10
“Sister, Daet gave me this letter to carry in my pocket a long time ago. Let me read it to you.”
She grimaced when she realized which letter he meant. It was the angel letter: an ancient warning that whoever ignored this “new” missive from the hand of Jesus would suffer terrible maladies. Though Daet professed he was not the sort who believed in magic, he did think this particular letter was a good thing to have on hand. Leah was never sure why the letter was accepted as a kind of protection against harm, but many of the church members carried it and truly believed in its power.
Daniel laid the much-folded missive on the table between them and read it aloud:
A Wonderful Letter from God:
Printed in letters of gold and dropped by an Angel near the city of Madgesburg in Europe, where it was found. Whosoever desires to copy it is permitted to do so and whosoever despises it from him, we shall withdraw ourselves.
Whosoever labors on the Lord’s Day or Sunday is accursed for this reason. I command that ye do not labor on Sunday, but reverently go to church and do not adorn your faces. Ye shall not wear false hair and practice pride and vanity of your treasure. Ye shall give to the poor. Give abundantly and have faith and believe that this letter was written with my own hand and sent out from Christ himself. And that ye do not as the unconscious Brutes.
Ye have six days in the week, and in these ye shall do your work. But the seventh day, namely Sunday, ye shall keep holy. If ye will not do this, then I will send wars, hunger, pestilence, and famine amongst you. And I will punish you with many plagues. I also command you all; whosoever ye may be, young or old, great or small, that ye do not at any time work late on Saturday. But ye shall mourn over your sins that be forgiven you.
Do not count silver or gold. Do not give way to lust of the flesh or to your carnal desires. Remember that I created you and that I can again destroy you.
Do not rejoice in poverty of your neighbors, but much more have compassion on him, and it shall be well with you.
Children, obey Father and Mother that it will be well with you upon earth. Whosoever does not believe and do this is condemned and lost.
I, Jesus, have written this with my own hand. Whosoever shall oppose and despise it, that same person may not expect any help from me. And whosoever has this letter and who does not reveal or publish it to others shall be accursed by the Christian Church. If your sins be ever so great, they shall nevertheless be forgiven you, if ye sincerely mourn over them and repent of them. He that does not believe this shall die and be punished in Hell at the judgment day. I will ask you about your sins and you will have to answer me.
The person who shall carry this letter with him or keep it in his house shall not be harmed by thunder or lightning, shall be secured from fire or floods, and he that shall make it known among the children of men shall have his reward and shall have a blessed and peaceful departure from this world. Keep my commandments, which I have sent by my Angel.
The True God from Heaven’s Throne,
The Son of God and Mary
Daniel took his time refolding the letter and then tucked it back into his pocket. He looked long and hard at his sister. “It says right there the child who disobeys her parents is condemned and lost, Leah.” He sat back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other, his chin tilted down and his eyes on the floor. He looked confident and sure that what he had just read to her was enough to scare her into submission. What he didn’t realize was the superstitious letter had only made the flame in her chest suddenly and ferociously leap to life and begin burning its way to her mouth.
Why did Daniel think this old letter had any power over his life? Or hers? It did not make sense to Leah and demonstrated another confusing idea about her Amish church: believing in something like a letter to protect a person or to condemn a person. Was this biblical? Her gut feeling told her it wasn’t. And why use a letter like this to attempt to control her? She clenched her hands together in frustration.
She had to leave the dadihaus or she would end up speaking her mind, and then Daniel would have no choice but to report to Daet that she did not believe in the letter and, by extension, their Amish tradition.
Leah stood. “I think I’d better be getting home. I’m sure Maem has plenty for me to help her with, what with the wedding being only a few days off. Besides, I haven’t completely finished my own dress. I need to get that together as soon as I can.”
He looked momentarily irritated at her lack of response but then pushed himself away from the table and began to help clean up. They spent a few minutes more gathering things and putting a few items away, then they headed to the buggy for the short ride home.
She kept her mouth tightly shut until her mind and heart calmed down. Daniel turned into the drive, and she leapt from the buggy like a shot as soon as he halted the horse.
“Leah,” he called after her, “don’t forget, obedience equals a good life. Remember that!”
She ran up the stairs and down the hallway to her room. Inside, she felt safe and protected. She lay down on the bed and looked at the ceiling.
What can I do? I can’t leave—I can’t—but stuff like that letter … how can I go through my whole life ignoring that?
She waited until she heard her brother’s buggy leave the drive and then made her way slowly and quietly down the stairs. She wanted to find a place to sit and think. She wanted to figure out what to do next, if anything.
Leah walked out to the fields surrounding the farm and found a quiet rise near their neighbor’s corn field. The corn was shocked and the field was stubbly. She spread out her skirt, positioning herself in a soft, grassy area. The ground smelled damp and musty, its moisture settling into her skin. She looked up and saw a group of crows flying in busy circles, cawing out their complaints. They suited her mood.
She spent time praying, asking the Lord to show her the path to take. More than confused, she was desperate to understand how the Amish church could coexist peacefully with her muddled thoughts.
“Why?” she asked the crows. “Why can’t I be like all the others and just be quiet, join the church, and do what they want me to do? Why do I get frustrated with the things the church says and does?”
She stared across the field, watching her Amish neighbors going about their business. A horse trotted down the road, a black buggy rolling merrily behind it … an Amish woman pedaled her bike toward home … a straw-hatted farmer carried the seed pail to feed his chickens. So normal—yet none of it had meaning anymore. It was like she was already on the outside, looking in, and what she saw didn’t seem to have anything to do with her real life.
Her eyes caught sight of Maem coming out the back door. She saw her pause and search the yard. Uh oh, she’s looking for me.
Leah got up, brushed the broken and dried grass from her skirt, and started walking slowly home. She had no idea what to do next but knew she couldn’t keep going on like this.
Maem and Leah worked in the kitchen side by side for the rest of the afternoon, and then she hemmed the skirt of her wedding-day dress.
“How much do you still have to do, Leah?” asked Ada as she poked her head into the room.
“I’m on the skirt—need to hem it and then press the seams, and it should be almost finished.”
“Do you want help?”
“Sure.”
Handing Ada the needle to continue hemming where she’d left off, Leah began laying out her new apron. She measured the yard goods carefully and placed the pattern on the fabric, traced it, and began to cut it out.
“Daniel told me he was planning to talk to you when you went with him to the house today. Did he?” Ada asked curiously.
Leah rolled her eyes and frowned. “You should have warned me.”
“I’m trying to stay out of this, remember?”
Leah sighed. “I know. He pulled out the letter.”
Ada put down the needle and looked at her sister. “The letter of warning?”
“Yes, the one that tells the bad things about the sinners and the good luck to those who carry it and believe in it.”
Ada shook her head and returned to her work. “Don’t you believe that letter?”
“I don’t know, but it made me so angry that I couldn’t say anything—couldn’t even question it. The problem is everything makes me mad if it means I have to keep quiet about it. Having to stifle my questions makes me want to scream.”
“Daet thinks that the letter will keep Daniel safe from lightning strikes while he’s in the fields.”
“I know, but I don’t think I believe that anymore.” Leah sighed again and continued carefully cutting the fabric.
“What was the Bible study like? You never got the chance to tell me.”
“It was good. The people were nice, and the Bible lesson was very interesting.” She looked around and then whispered, “I brought some materials home for reading—a little more Scripture work and a lesson about salvation.”
“Will you let me read it, too?”
“I want to read it first, and then I’ll see if you should, okay?”
“What are you afraid that I’ll read?”
“Maem is making me feel guilty about leading you astray. I don’t want you to read things she may blame me for later.”
Ada laughed. “Heaven forbid I should read something in a Bible lesson!”
They spent the rest of the afternoon sewing and pressing Leah’s dress. It was wonderful to giggle and talk with her sister without fearing judgment from Daet or the bishop. Once they hung the finished dress in the closet, she breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m glad that’s done. I won’t have to worry about getting it finished once we get busy before the wedding day.”
As she lay in bed that night, she took the papers from the Bible study and started to read the Scriptures by the light of the moon. As she read, Leah’s eyes filled with tears. The verses all made sense to her. It was as if God had written them just for her. When it was too dark to read any longer, Leah snuggled down into her bed and drifted off into a peaceful sleep, happily surrendering thoughts of her talk with Daniel and all the unsettling questions floating around in her head.
Two days before the wedding, Maem, Ada, and Leah went to Sara’s parents’ house to help the women set up the tables and chairs. Leah brushed off the chair seats and washed the tabletops until they shone, but halfway through the work, she noticed a couple of the other ladies whispering, looking at her, and then whispering again. When she caught their eyes, they dropped their gazes, their demeanor stiff and aloof. She wanted so much to know what they were saying to one another but was too afraid to ask.
Martha came by on her bike, and as she leaned it against a bench under a huge oak tree, Leah noticed the whispering and behind-the-hand talking increased. She even caught Maem watching as Martha approached.
Her friend, seemingly oblivious to the gossipers, smiled as she walked over. Leah pointed to a group of teen girls who were staring intently.
“Our fan club is watching us, Martha.”
Martha giggled. She boldly waved with a flourish to the group of girls. They immediately turned their heads and scurried off, still massed together in a clump, but their giggles and laughter floated back long after they were out of sight.
“Martha,” Leah admonished, “you’re already in a lot of trouble; why would you tease them that way?”
“If I’m going to be kicked out soon anyway, why stop having fun with them? They’re just being nahsich, and nosy is as nosy does.” Martha shrugged her shoulders indifferently.
The two friends started their work, going from table to table, cleaning and dusting and straightening the rows. Leah asked Martha how things were at home.
“Abner stares a hole right through me every time we’re in the same room. Maem sees him and looks worried, but she won’t interfere. I think she’ll be glad if I get the miting.”
“Oh, Martha, you can’t think like that! No Maem wants her child shunned by the church.”
“It will solve a lot of problems for them all, except for my sisters. I’d be gone right now if it weren’t for them.”
“You wouldn’t be afraid to get kicked out?”
“Abe and I plan to get married anyway. He’s looking for an apartment for both of us, and he wants me to come and live with him as soon as I can, but he understands why I’m staying.”
Leah dropped the rag she was using to wash tables into the bucket of bleach water. “You mean you’ll live with him without being married, Martha?”
“We can’t get married. Not until I’m eighteen, unless my maem signs for me—and that isn’t going to happen.”
“You really will be in trouble if you move in with Abe before you get married.”
Martha tossed her head. “I don’t care anymore. If I move out from home and don’t join the church, I’ll be doomed anyway.”
Lunchtime came, and their chance to talk privately after the meal was interrupted by Maem requesting Leah to come peel apples for the applesauce that would be made later in the day. As she walked off with Maem, she looked back in time to see Martha making a face at a group of little girls who were darting around her and sticking their tongues out at her.
She felt sorry for Martha, and resentment sprang to life at the mean behavior of the children. Some of the mothers rushed over to shoo the girls away, but no one apologized to Martha.
“Come on, Leah, don’t dally. We have a lot to do.” Maem tugged her daughter along.
When she saw the look in Maem’s eyes, she knew she had pulled her away from Martha on purpose. The women they joined in the kitchen kept their distance in a polite manner.
Is this how it would be to be shunned?
If her pink cheeks were any indication, poor Maem was aware of what was going on, so Leah tried hard to be friendly and polite while she worked with the women for the rest of the afternoon. I don’t want Maem suffering for my troubles.
A few of the ladies kept their distance all day, but most became friendlier as the day wore on.
Just as the women were finishing up, Martha came to the kitchen door, looking for Leah. Tension filled the room, and the ladies stopped their friendly bantering. All eyes turned to the two friends as they stood at the back door. Leah’s spine crawled with unease.
Martha whispered, “Leah, here’s my cell number, just in case you ever need to call me.” She slipped a small piece of crumpled paper into Leah’s hand, and then smiled as she boldly pronounced, “Yes, this has been a good day, but now it’s time for me to go back home so I can see what my stepbrother Abner needs me to do for him yet.”
The women murmured, heads down, eyes averted at the bald statement. Martha’s bitter expression told Leah what was behind her provoking words. And of course the women understood the unspoken message: they had let Martha down in their dealings with Abner. They had let him remain in the home with the person he was abusing, and as if that wasn’t enough, the women’s behavior and attitude toward Martha made it clear whom they blamed for Abner’s difficulties.
Impulsively Leah reached out, hugging Martha just before she turned to leave. She watched as Martha marched across the yard and retrieved her bike. Her friend pedaled furiously away from the Amish women and their judgment.
Leah spun to meet a sea of eyes regarding her reproachfully. She experienced a momentary lack of courage, but when she thought of the tears she’d seen on Martha’s face as she’d related her story about Abner that summer day, fierce strength returned, and she coolly met the women’s gazes. Maem cleared her throat, busying herself with finishing the cleanup of the tools they’d used to make the applesauce.
The face-off ended moments later when Sara’s maem hurried over with a hug for Leah and a cheerful thank-you to her and Martha for being so helpful. She guided her to the back porch.
Once they were out of earshot from the others, Miriam Wengerd regarded her. Her face held sympathy. “Don’t worry. They’ll gossip for a while, and then something else will come along to get their attention.”
Leah looked at Miriam through the tears swimming on her eyelashes. “Thank you, Miriam, for being so openly gracious to Martha and me.”
Lowering her voice, Miriam continued. “I have reason to feel sorry for Martha and the position the church has put her in. I had a similar experience as a child. No one was there to protect me, and I’m very sorry it is still happening in the church.” She sighed. “We are not a perfect people by any stretch of the imagination, Leah.”
The younger woman absorbed this news and wondered how many others also hid secrets. The back door screeched open. Maem stood there, glancing from her daughter to her future in-law. Her expression was guarded, but she told Miriam she would be available to help out any time during the next couple of days.
Miriam smiled. Turning to Leah, she explained, “From here on out, Sara has her friends paired up very well and has assigned most of the remaining chores to them. You and Jacob, for instance, are going to be in charge of plucking chickens, I hear,” she teased.
Leah laughed. “I sure hope not. I’m not very good at plucking chickens.”
They exchanged good-byes. Maem and Leah went in search of Ada, and by the time they rounded her up, dusk had settled in. As the three Raber women walked the lane toward their house, Leah was thankful Miriam had broken the tension between Maem and her. She could enjoy having a pleasant chat with her mother for a change, rather than enduring the misery of silence all the way home.
The morning before the wedding, Leah dressed and waited for Jacob to come by to pick her up. This was the day all the paired-up couples would put the finishing touches on the food, the tables, and the decorations. She and Jacob were assigned to clean the celery and then cut each stalk into several pieces. Several stalks were kept whole with their bright green leaves attached at the top, washed, and placed in vases to decorate the tables at the wedding meal. Some of the celery was cut into chunks so it could be cooked into creamed celery for the dinner.
Leah examined a stalk of celery for a moment and wondered idly why it was used at every wedding. No one ever seemed to know why the Amish did many of the things they did. It was what their forefathers had done, and that was supposed to be a good enough answer. But this kind of obedience to a tradition not completely understood, and even a bit silly, was an example of why she was often confused about her people and their ways. She took a chomp out of the celery, wishing she could just as easily swallow her questions.
