Jonas would insist on plowing a field to try them out.
Weaver clapped a friendly hand on the Amish man’s back. “Come on and give me a hand with the yoke.” They set off together for the barn.
Luke didn’t bother hiding his sigh as he trudged after them.
With their purchases packaged and piled around them in front of the general store, Emma and Rebecca perched on crates and sipped a sweet drink, compliments of the storekeeper. The man had brought a straight chair outside for Maummi, who drank her soda pop with obvious pleasure. Emma savored the liquid on her tongue and tried to identify the source of flavor. Orange for certain, and bubbly stuff that backed up in her nose if she drank too quickly. Eyes watering, she took another delightful sip.
Maummi’s voice sliced into her analysis like a knife through a hot cake. “Emma, mind you your learning about Amish and Englischers?”
There was no question of the reason behind her comment. Emma sipped once again before answering with a lesson that had been quoted to her from infancy. “Amish live in the world but are not of the world. By staying separate, we are more able to honor Christ with lives of purity, humility, modesty, and peacefulness.”
After studying her for a long moment, Maummi nodded. “See that you mind it well.”
Rebecca lowered her bottle. “You didn’t stay separate, Maummi. You married outside the church.”
Maummi’s back stiffened, and she fired another shot from her arsenal of sayings. “‘Young folks should use their ears and not their mouths.’”
Under the weight of her grandmother’s disapproving glare, Rebecca fell silent. Emma considered the point well made, though she couldn’t think of a way to voice her question without giving the impression she harbored feelings for Luke. Which she did not. Not serious feelings, anyway.
After a moment Maummi consented to answer the charge. “My Carl was a gentle man, with such humility that he might have been Amish himself.” A faraway wistfulness gathered on her face. “Patient too, which trait he passed on. They are alike, my Carl and my Jonas.” Then she shook herself. “When he died, ach! The pain. I thought I would die with him.” She held Emma’s gaze with hers. “Where must we go when we are hurt?”
Emma knew the answer as well as she knew the story. “We go home.”
Maummi nodded. “Always home. To family, to community. My district made me a part of them, and my children with me. Without them the world would have swallowed us up.” She cupped her soda pop in both hands and examined the contents. “I would spare you that pain.”
“But surely pain comes to Amish and Englisch alike.”
“Ja, but the Englisch way is lonely.” She shook her head. “The Amish have each other.”
Emma witnessed that truth every day. When the Yoders’ barn burned at the beginning of the summer, the entire district helped raise a new one. Not a harvest or a planting passed without neighbors lending a hand, and not a person fell ill without receiving meals from dozens of kitchens in the community. Hadn’t all the women of Apple Grove helped Amos Beiler care for his children since Lydia died giving birth to the last one? With a start, she realized Maummi and her two little ones had probably received the same care as Amos. Emma’s own papa had been a fatherless child, and yet he had never lacked for attention or for strong examples to guide him into manhood.
These were reasons she loved her Amish life and never intended to leave it. When the instruction was offered again in a month or so, she would attend the classes and be baptized into the faith she loved come fall. Why bother with rumspringa? Let Rebecca have her time of running around, as most young people did before they were baptized. Emma saw no reason for it. Why sample the ways of the world when the way of happiness had surrounded her like a soft wool blanket all her life? No, her plans were set. She would enjoy the peaceful Amish lifestyle, commit to her faith through baptism, and then wait for the Lord to show her the husband He had selected for her, either in Troyer or back home in Apple Grove.
She leaned forward to cover one of Maummi’s blue-veined hands. “Don’t worry for me.” With a sideways smirk at her sister, she added, “Save your worrying for the place it’s needed.”
Rebecca responded with a grin and a show of