The Miting: An Old Order Amish Novel, page 9
The back door creaked open and then slammed shut, while Maem’s steps approached the living room. Leah hurried to the bottom of the staircase, her heavy shoes making extra-loud thumps down the wooden treads.
“Oh, there you are, Leah. Daet’s ready for you in the shop if you have your chores finished.”
“I do, Maem. I’ll go now.”
As she passed her, Maem put out her hand. “Try not to test your Daet anymore today. Please?”
Leah nodded, then forged ahead with what she knew must be said. “I am sorry I lied to you.”
Maem patted her on the arm. “And about the Bible study?”
Leah dropped her gaze and hurried to the pegs behind the door where her shawl was hanging, afraid to look back at her maem’s face, afraid the disappointment would make her determination crumble.
Heading quickly out into the morning sunshine, she adjusted the shawl to completely cover her shoulders and arms—the days were getting nippy. Today would be a tough day, but she resolved to keep her thoughts to herself no matter how she felt.
As Leah entered the shop, her father was walking from the pallets of lumber to his workbench. His shoulders slumped, and she was sorry to be the cause of his worry. Daet gave a polite nod, and she nodded back, trying to keep her thoughts on the orders and the paperwork stacked on the desk. She spent the morning writing out orders and bills, and before Leah knew it, it was time for Matthew Schrock to come by.
As he entered the door, Matthew shook hands with Daet and walked with him to the back of the building to help load the finished pieces.
After the gleaming headboard and footboard were loaded and wrapped with blankets, the two men approached the desk to settle the bill.
“Matthew, I hate to tell you this,” Daet said, “but I think you know the Amish community around here is pretty close. The youth pay a lot of attention to what we adults do and what the other kids do. Because of your association with those who have left the Amish, Bishop Miller thinks it would be best if we limit the amount of contact we have with you. For that reason, I will find someone to deliver the rest of your bedroom set to you when it’s finished. Then I think we will have to end our business relationship. I’m sorry.” Daet glanced at Leah. “And my daughter won’t be coming to any more Bible studies. This is not a good idea for her, as you should know.”
Matthew Schrock looked down at the invoice. He shook his head a little and then looked Daet in the eyes.
“I don’t want to be the cause of trouble, John. Not at all. But I think you should know the Lord guides my steps, and I do His bidding when He calls me to do it. I hope you understand, and Bishop Miller, too, that sometimes my calling from the Lord is not what the Amish church would call right, but I see it is right in the Lord’s eyes.” He shrugged. “I don’t want to be a problem between your daughter and you, though.”
He turned to Leah, and her eyes filled with unshed tears. She felt the heat fill her cheeks as embarrassment and disappointment flowed over her.
“It’s important for you to do what’s right, Leah. Time spent praying is never a wrong thing to do, as I’m sure your daet would agree.” He glanced at Daet, who nodded. “You’re always welcome at our Bible studies, but please consider your Daet’s request first. Okay?”
He gave her a warm smile and said he’d be praying for everyone. Then he left.
The atmosphere in the shop was heavy with sadness and censure. Leah kept her eyes on the figures of the paperwork piled on the desk and didn’t try to speak. She was too upset and afraid that if her father tried to talk to her about any of this she’d end up shouting. She might even feel like leaving home.
Daet kept silent, too. He puttered from one end of the shop to the other without comment. They worked in uncomfortable silence the rest of the morning, and after lunch, Leah returned to her duties just as quietly. Later in the afternoon, the bell rang over the door, and Jacob Yoder came through with a box of hardware.
“Hi, Leah.” His grin was genuine and open. Maybe he hadn’t heard what she had done.
“Hello, Jacob.” Daet clenched his teeth, and Leah could feel her cheeks flush with heat.
Jacob handed the box to Daet. “I checked the contents’ list, and it appears everything is in there, John.”
“I have a chest ready for these knobs, so I thank you for bringing this box, but I’d better get back to work.”
Daet glanced at Leah with a look that said, Here is your future—not with the English.
After John left the room, Jacob walked to the desk and leaned on the counter. He held Leah’s gaze, winking at her when her cheeks flushed once more.
“Don’t you know you shouldn’t be hanging out with a sinner like me?” Her chin wavered, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.
He raised his eyebrows. “I guess I’m attracted to spunky girls.”
In spite of her emotions, she laughed. “You’ve come to the right place then. I’m in real trouble this time, I’m afraid.”
“I heard.”
“You did?”
“Yes, and you shouldn’t be at all surprised the gossip mills are running full-tilt with talk of your sinful ways, Leah.” Though he was teasing, there was undoubtedly an undercurrent of truth in what he said.
She grew serious. “Jacob, why are my parents and the bishop so set against me going to a Bible study? You’d think they’d love it when one of the youth wants to study Scriptures.”
“I don’t think it’s that you want to study the Bible so much as it is you going to the English and reading an English Bible—that’s why they’re upset with you. They can’t have you getting ideas about the ordinance letter or finding your own path of religion. Our people are all about what our forefathers did. We aren’t supposed to question any authority over us or even look as though we are.”
Leah walked to the window and scanned the yellowing fields. “But I don’t understand the German Bible, and right now, I feel I have to read more and study more, Jacob. I don’t know why. I can’t seem to fight this feeling that I need more freedom. That somehow all the rules aren’t quite right. Maybe if I can see for myself where God asks us to follow these rules, maybe I can make myself obey. I can’t help but wonder if the Ordnung and everyone else are wrong about this.”
Jacob ambled to her side. “I don’t always think the church is right about everything, either, Leah, but I don’t know any other life, and I’m not so sure the Englisher world is any better or any smarter for knowing more.”
“I guess you’re right.” She sighed. “I really don’t want to go away from my family. I’d much rather stay here, but I just wish—” She broke off, knowing it was hard to make herself understood. “Do you know anyone who has been under the miting before?”
Jacob walked back to the desk. He shrugged. “Yes. A fellow I knew a year or so ago when I went to Indiana to work one summer. Andy Zook. He was questioning everything, and he was a wild one—drinking, partying, drugs. Then he went to a revival at one of the English churches, and he said he got saved—born again. He quit drinking and smoking and running around. He tried to go back to his Amish church, and they were glad to have him until he started talking to everyone about being saved the way he was. After a while, they went to him and told him he had to stop.”
“But why? What did he do? Did he stop?”
“Well, he tried, he really did. But he couldn’t keep it inside. He kept telling people about his ‘personal relationship’ with Christ. He talked to me about it all the time. Though I didn’t agree with him, I’ll admit that his certainty and his excitement made me think. Then he started asking the elders and the preachers and the bishop questions. They finally had enough, and they put the ban on him.”
“What happened to him?”
“He wanted to stay around, but he told me after our boss let him go that he missed his family so much he couldn’t stay in the area.” Jacob shook his head. “He was crying, and his shoulders were shaking, he was so upset. It made me feel real sorry for him, and I kept letting him talk to me. Then the bishop told my boss he’d have to fire me if I kept talking to Andy Zook. I had to tell him to stop talking to me at work. He eventually left. I don’t know what happened to him after that.”
The pain in her heart grew as she wondered if this could be her someday. “I don’t want that to be me, Jacob. I don’t. But what can I do to stop this feeling that I need more freedom? I don’t know how it happened, but I’m thinking all the time about being free, and when Daet or the bishop or Maem, even, tells me what I should be doing or feeling, I get this churned-up feeling. I’m angry enough to think I could pack my things and leave right there.”
Jacob smacked his hat against his thighs a few times, a frown furrowing his brow. “Don’t think like that then. Just tell yourself it won’t work and think of other things. You know what I think of when I’m upset?”
Leah shook her head.
“I think of my future and what I’ll have someday: a family, a sweet wife, and a farm—all the things that make life good.” He grinned. “It’s a simple dream, but it works for me. It makes me think of other things besides what’s happening to me at the moment.”
Leah knew he meant well, but his method wouldn’t work for her. It hurt that Jacob didn’t understand what she was talking about, but she couldn’t blame him. All Amish jungen were supposed to think like him. She was supposed to want those same things, and maybe she did. But not now. Right now, she simply wanted more. She yearned to learn and grow, and she couldn’t understand what was so bad about that.
She strolled to the desk and picked up the invoices. “Thanks for letting me spout off, Jacob. I promise to consider what I should want and not what I think I want.”
Jacob held up his hand in a pledge. “I’ll keep your secrets, Leah, and I’ll pray Gott helps you make the right decision when the time comes. Tell your Daet I’ll be back on Thursday to bring in the shipment of hardware he ordered last week.”
“I will. Thanks, Jacob.” She walked him to the door and waved him off, then turned back to the shop and the work that waited for her on the desk. She hoped Jacob really would be praying for her—she didn’t know how she’d decide anything if Gott didn’t help her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Leah dressed quickly the Sunday morning Sara and Daniel’s wedding banns were to be published in church. She was excited to be a part of his important day and had just found out that Sara and Daniel were planning to pair Leah with Jacob as helpers at the wedding.
The church service seemed to take even longer than ever, but soon, one of the preachers stood and read the banns of those who were going to be married that month.
“Sara Wengerd and Daniel Raber will be married on the first Thursday of November. The service will be at Nate and Susan Gingriches’ place, next door to the Wengerds’. Lunch and dinner will be at the Wengerds’ place after the service. They have chosen Paul Yoder, John Wengerd, and Eric Hochstetler as hoslers. The navohugga includes Lydia Wengerd, Sarah Yoder, and Leah and Ada Raber, Aaron and William Miller, Jacob Yoder, and Levi Schlabach.”
Sara and Daniel smiled at one another across the room; the future bride blushing shyly from the attention she was receiving.
As the reality of their marriage hit Leah, she felt a flutter inside and wondered what her own wedding would be like. Sneaking a peak at Jacob, she just as quickly looked away for fear he’d guess her thoughts.
The next few days were busy assisting Sara and Daniel as much as possible. Though it was customary for the bride and groom to live with the bride’s family after their marriage, Daniel and Sara were blessed with a little house of their own. The old dadihaus, the house Leah’s grandparents had moved into when they deeded the farm to her parents before they passed away, would be Daniel and Sara’s new home.
Daniel took Leah with him to the house one day so she could help him add a few things as a welcome for Sara. He had finished updating the kitchen and wanted to put final touches on the rest of the house.
Leah had made a set of embroidered pillowcases—nothing too fancy—to put on their bed; the cheerful vines and flowers were very inviting. She had carefully pressed rows of pleating into a flat sheet so it could be spread under the mattress crosswise to act as a lovely bed ruffle. The pillowcases under the embroidered ones were also ironed into intricate pleats, their creases crisp and neat. She turned to view the small bedroom with a critical eye. The pure white bed coverings appeared a bit stark to her, so she went in search of something to warm up the space.
She found Daniel in the kitchen unpacking boxes he and Sara had brought over the day before. He was unwrapping and stacking white pottery plates and cups from their new set into the sink so they could be washed and put away clean.
“Hey, Bruder, I can wash those up for you. But first, I’d like to know if you and Sara have a nice throw or comforter that I can put on the foot of your bed. It needs something else to brighten the room.”
Daniel thought for a minute and then led her to a box in the corner of the living room. He rooted through the carton until he pulled out a soft throw that had the colors of a grape arbor on it: creams and greens and purples. The fringes rippled as he tossed it to her. She spread the beautiful throw at the foot of the bed. Wish I could find some fresh flowers, but at least the throw brings a bit of color and warmth to the room.
Back in the kitchen, she helped Daniel continue unpacking and stacking the pottery dishes. Once they had them all out of the box, she primed the sink pump until cool clear water filled a large kettle. She lit the woodstove and put the pot on to boil water for the washing up. While she waited for the water to heat, Leah helped Daniel move boxes into the right rooms so Sara could unpack more quickly once they moved in permanently.
Back in the kitchen, Leah poured hot water over the dishes and began washing. She mused about her and Jacob being paired off for the wedding. It was the first time the two of them would be together in public. She smiled when she remembered the fleeting look of embarrassment that flashed across Jacob’s cheeks when Daniel asked him to help make food the day before the wedding. But then he’d glanced her way and grinned as she nodded, so it was all set.
“What are you and Sara planning to have Jacob and me do for the wedding meal, Daniel?”
“Sara thinks we should make you guys clean the chickens,” her brother teased. “I figure after hanging out with you all morning and then being exposed to the smell of a chicken coop, Jacob will change his mind and take off for the hills.”
She laughed and flicked sudsy water his way. Daniel ducked the attack and grinned back. When she was happy like this, feeling helpful and like a girl who was about to fall in love with a good Amish boy, she could almost believe her months of troubling questions and rebellious attitude were a thing of the past. She finished the dishes and wiped her hands on a clean towel.
Daniel grew thoughtful and motioned for his sister to sit down in a chair at the kitchen table. He rubbed his hand over the brightly colored oilcloth she’d unpacked and pressed over the round surface earlier that day.
“Leah,” he began. “I look at you now and I have trouble thinking you’re the same girl who lied to her parents, rode in a sinful man’s truck, and went to an Englisher Bible study.”
She was shocked at Daniel’s blunt record of her recent sins; she had no idea he was aware of all she had done. She pulled the kerchief off her head, readjusting the loosening pins in her hair before positioning the kerchief back in place. “Daniel, I just have these feelings—”
“Still?” he interrupted.
“Yes. Still. Though I don’t want to give up my family and the good times like this, I can’t keep ignoring this fight for freedom in my heart.”
As she admitted her inner thought, she was embarrassed. It was difficult to tell her brother her doubts. He was not going to like how rebelliously she was thinking.
“But what about Jacob Yoder? He seems to care about you very much, and I haven’t seen you turn him down on anything yet, so do you plan to make him follow you into the English world or something?” Leah’s head snapped up in alarm.
“No, of course not! I haven’t said anything about leaving. So don’t go running home to tell Daet a thing like that.”
Daniel watched her and slowly shook his head. “I wouldn’t, and you know it. I just can’t figure you out. One minute you’re in here all rosy cheeked and happy, helping me get the house together, and the next minute, you’re telling me you need this freedom or you’ll be sad forever.”
She sniffed and turned away. “I can’t explain it, Daniel, I just can’t, but I know that Gott is trying to tell me something—”
“Leah,” Daniel warned again, “it’s prideful to think we hear Gott speaking to mortals. Our parents wouldn’t like to hear you talking that way, and neither do I.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said impatiently. “I just meant … well, I think Gott is in the questions I’m asking, maybe prompting me to ask them because I think there’s something not right with the Ordnung.”
“Leah Raber, you are standing on slippery ground. You’ve allowed yourself to ask too many questions and to focus on too many problems instead of on the good things about our life. It isn’t right to get too big of a head, Leah, and start thinking you know so much.”
“I’m not saying I know so much. It’s that I don’t know enough, and I feel a lot, and it makes me so frustrated sometimes.” She pushed up from the table and got the bread and peanut butter spread out for lunch. She made him a sandwich first, set a glass of cold water in front of him, then made herself a sandwich and a drink.
They ate in silence for a time before Daniel finally asked her, “Aren’t you ever afraid of the consequences of thinking like this?”
“What? Why? I’m only asking questions. I’m not drinking or smoking or anything truly sinful.”
