The Hope Jar Page 19

  With anticipation, she reached into the jar and removed the paper closest to the top. Unfolding it, she saw a Bible verse: “When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walketh through the fire, thou shall not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.” Isaiah 43:2.

  Following the verse, a prayer had been written: “Dear Lord, please walk beside me during this distressing time in my life. Guide me, direct me, and lead the way.”

  Michelle’s pulse raced. Whoever wrote that must have been dealing with a challenge or going through something awful. I wonder what the problem was and how it all turned out. If only these walls could talk.

  She glanced around the dingy basement, inspecting each of the metal and wooden shelves. Could there be more jars full of messages hidden here or someplace else? This whole jar thing seemed like an unsolved mystery—one Michelle might never know the answer to.

  “Where have you been, Son?” Ezekiel’s mother pressed her thin lips together. “Our supper guest is here, and it’s time to eat.” She gestured to Lenore, standing near the kitchen table.

  “Hello, Ezekiel. It’s nice to see you again.” Lenore offered him a fleeting smile, then took out four plates and began setting the table.

  “Nice to see you too.” Until this moment, it had slipped Ezekiel’s mind that Lenore would be coming over. He’d thought her visit was going to be earlier in the day and was surprised to find out she’d be staying for supper. If Mom had told him the specifics, he must have forgotten. As far as Ezekiel knew, Lenore’s reason for coming by was to pick out a plant from the greenhouse for her mother’s upcoming birthday.

  He pulled his fingers through the back of his thick hair. I wonder if Lenore came over while I was gone this afternoon, and then Mom decided to invite her to join us for supper. Or could my matchmaking mother have set the whole thing up earlier so I’d have no choice but to spend time with Ivan Lapp’s daughter?

  Ezekiel’s mother would never admit it—especially to him—but she had been trying to get them together as a couple for the last two years. Well, it wouldn’t work. It wasn’t that Ezekiel had anything against Lenore. She was kind of pretty, in a plain sort of way, and also quite intelligent. But they didn’t have much in common. Besides, she had already joined the church and was committed to being Amish. Not a good fit for him, since he still had visions of being part of the English world once he figured out how to tell his mom and dad.

  Ezekiel could only imagine the tongue lashing he’d receive if either of his folks knew he’d bought a truck and had parked it behind the home of Raymond’s parents. Dad didn’t like that his brother Arnold was more lenient with his children and looked the other way when they went through their running-around years. He thought Arnold should make his young people toe the line, the way he’d always tried to do.

  “Well, don’t just stand there, boy.” Dad stepped up to Ezekiel and tapped his shoulder. “Let’s get washed up so we can eat our meal.”

  “Jah.” Ezekiel followed his dad down the hall to the bathroom. He groaned inwardly. After working most of the day at the greenhouse and then taking care of his bees this afternoon, all he wanted to do was relax. Company for dinner was not what he’d planned on at all.

  As Michelle sat with Willis and Mary Ruth, eating supper that evening, she thought about the jar she’d found in the basement. I wonder how many more there might be hidden around the Lapps’ farm. Who had authored the notes she’d found was also a puzzle.

  Michelle glanced over at Mary Ruth, who was sitting straight up in her chair while eating a spoonful of scalloped potatoes. Was it her? Could she have placed those secret notes in the jars when she was going through some difficult times? Does Willis know anything about them? To ask might open up old wounds for either one of them. No, it was better to say nothing. Michelle had already created a problem for the Lapps when she’d come here under false pretenses. Once she left Strasburg, she would leave the old prayer jars and the notes in them behind.

  “Your scalloped potatoes and pork chops are appeditlich, and so is my favorite sauerkraut salad.” Willis looked over at his wife with a tender expression. “You spoil me so good.”

  Mary Ruth chuckled. “You always say that, Husband.”

  “Course I do, ’cause it’s the truth.”

  Michelle nodded in agreement. “Your food is real tasty, Grandma. I wouldn’t be surprised if I haven’t put on some weight since I’ve been here.”

  “I’m glad you two are enjoying the meal, but with all these nice things you’ve said, I’m having a hard time not letting it go to my head.” Mary Ruth fanned her face with her paper napkin. “And you know what they say about hocmut.”

  “What does that word mean?” Michelle asked.

  “It means ‘pride,’ ” Willis explained. “Although not in these exact words, the Bible says, ‘Der hochmut kummt vor dem fall.’ ” He looked at Michelle, while tapping his knuckles on the table. “The translation is: ‘Pride comes before the fall.’ ”

  “I see.” From all that Michelle had observed about this couple, neither of them had a prideful bone in their body. In addition to their kindness, both were the most humble, genuine people she’d ever known.

  Willis and Mary Ruth bantered back and forth about several topics for a bit, before Mary Ruth turned to face Michelle, placing her hand gently on Michelle’s arm. “You looked tired this evening. Did I work you too hard canning tomatoes?”

  Michelle shook her head. “I am kinda tired though. I think the heat and humidity is getting to me.”

  “That makes sense, since you’re probably used to having air-conditioning,” Willis interjected. “Here, in order to cool off, we have to hope a cool breeze comes up when we have the windows open. Or if it gets too hot, we’ll find shade underneath one of the tall, leafy trees in our yard and sit a spell with a glass of cold tea or lemonade.”

  “Actually, I’ve never lived in a place with air-conditioning.”

  Mary Ruth tipped her head. “Really? Not even when you were growing up?”

  Michelle opened then closed her mouth, as she struggled to find the right words. “Um … no, not even when I was a young girl. My folks didn’t spend their hard-earned money on things they didn’t really need.”

  “Makes sense to me.” Willis reached over and gave Mary Ruth’s hand a few taps. “Guess we did something right when we raised our son and daughter. Ivan learned how to be frugal, and it’s nice to know that Rhoda did too.”

  Thinking it would be a good time to raise a question she’d been pondering, Michelle asked, “Were Ivan and Rhoda—I mean my mom—the only children you had?”

  Mary Ruth dropped her gaze to the table. “We had a son, but he had a heart condition and died when he was two months old. We were thankful for the time we had with him though, as well as the chance to raise our other two children.”

  Tears came quickly to Mary Ruth’s eyes, and she excused herself from the table. As soon as she left the room, Willis slowly shook his head, looking sadly at Michelle. “Your grandmother is pretty sensitive when it comes to the baby we lost. Even though it’s been a good many years ago, I don’t think she’s ever completely gotten over it.”

  Michelle wasn’t sure what to say in response. She was sorry she’d asked the question. This poor couple had been through a lot, and they deserved to be happy.

  Lacking the right words, she reached over and patted Willis’s arm. I’ll bet Mary Ruth wrote all those notes after Rhoda left home. That must be why many of the messages seem so sullen. She was grieving for the loss of not one, but two of her children.

  Ezekiel could hardly get a bite of food in his mouth because Lenore kept asking him questions. When she wasn’t talking, his little brother Henry babbled on about a bunch of unimportant things.

  “What did you do today?” Lenore’s focus remained on Ezekiel.

  “Worked in the greenhouse for a while, then took some honey from my b
eehives.” He picked up his fork, but before he could put a piece of roast beef in his mouth, another question came.

  “Will you be attending the young people’s singing this Sunday evening?”

  Ezekiel shrugged his shoulders. “Probably, but I’m not sure.”

  She smiled. “I am planning to go. I always enjoy our time of singing and the games we play beforehand.”

  “The food that’s served is always good too,” Ezekiel’s brother Abe interjected.

  Amy snickered and nudged him with her elbow. “You would say something like that. You always have food on your mind.”

  “Not so.” Abe shook his head. “I think about my job workin’ for the buggy maker, and also playing volleyball with my friends, which I’ll be doin’ Sunday night at the singing.”

  “Sounds like all you young people are planning to go to Sunday’s gathering, and that’s a good thing.” Dad passed the potatoes to Ezekiel for a second helping. “Your mamm and I used to look forward to the singings when we were courting.” Wiggling his brows, he gave her a quick glance. “Gave us a chance to spend more time together—especially on the drive to and from the event.”

  Mom nodded with an enthusiastic grin. “I remember those days well.” She cast a sidelong glance in Ezekiel’s direction. “Half the fun of attending young people’s gatherings is the chance to visit with your date as you travel to and from.”

  Ezekiel clenched his fork so hard he thought it might bend. He hoped Lenore wasn’t expecting him to take her to the singing or offer a ride home from the event. He didn’t really want to go, but his folks would be disappointed if he didn’t. So since he’d most likely attend, he wanted to go with Sara. He planned to ask her when they got together for another driving lesson later this week. He hoped she would say yes.

  “Say, Mom, what’s for dessert?” Henry looked at their mother with an expectant expression.

  “I made a lemon shoofly pie this morning.” She looked at Dad and smiled. “Because it’s your daed’s favorite.”

  Tilting his chin, Henry frowned. “Is that all we’re havin’? You know I don’t like lemon so much.”

  Mom gestured to the refrigerator. “There’s a chocolate-and-peanut-butter pie in there too. Think you might be able to eat a piece of that?”

  Henry lifted his chin, and his blue eyes brightened. “Jah, sure. I could probably eat more’n one.”

  Mom chuckled, and Dad ruffled Henry’s hair. “Bet you could eat the whole pie.”

  Ezekiel was glad someone else had been able to get in a few words, squelching Lenore’s constant prattle. But just when he thought he was in the clear, she turned in his direction again. It appeared that Lenore was about to say something when Amy spoke up.

  “What have you been doing this summer, Lenore, now that you’re not teaching school?”

  Lenore blotted her lips with a napkin and smiled. “I’ve been working part-time at my folk’s general store. I’ve also done a lot of gardening, and even had some time to do a bit of bird watching. Why, the other day when I was outside pulling some weeds, I spotted a …”

  Lenore’s words were muted as Ezekiel’s thoughts pulled inward again. He was pleased that someone else was conversing with the schoolteacher, and he would be even happier when this evening was over.

  Chapter 26

  During breakfast the following morning, Ezekiel’s mother kept looking at him as though she wanted to say something. But every time she opened her mouth, Dad cut in. It almost seemed as if he was doing it on purpose. Normally, he wasn’t this talkative. Especially if he was in a hurry to eat and get outside to prepare the greenhouse for the day’s business.

  When everyone finished breakfast, Dad grabbed his straw hat and started for the back door. “You coming, Ezekiel?”

  “Jah, I’ll be right behind you.”

  “You too, Henry.” Dad looked over his shoulder at Ezekiel’s younger brother. “Your help is also needed in the greenhouse today.”

  “Okay, Daadi.” Henry practically jumped out of his seat and raced across the room. The boy always seemed eager to do whatever Dad said. No doubt there would be no question about whether Henry joined the church when he grew up. He’d apply for membership, if for no other reason than to please their parents. Ezekiel, on the other hand, wasn’t that compliant. He just needed more courage to speak up and say what was on his mind.

  Soon after Dad and Henry went out, Ezekiel picked up his straw hat and started across the room. He’d no more than put it on his head and grabbed hold of the doorknob when Mom hollered, “Wait a minute, Son. I want to ask you a question.”

  He let go of the knob and turned to face her, glancing briefly at his sister, who had begun to clear the dishes and put them in the sink. “What’s up, Mom?”

  She left her place at the table and stepped up to him. “I was wondering if you’ve decided yet whether you’ll be going to the singing this Sunday.”

  Ezekiel’s toes curled inside his boots. I shoulda known this was coming. “Jah, Mom, I’ll most likely go.”

  “Good to hear.” A slow smile spread across her face. “Have you considered inviting Lenore to go with you? She’s not being courted by anyone, you know.”

  He cringed. Should have expected that too. “No, Mom, I won’t be inviting Lenore. Thought I’d see if Sara might like to go.”

  Her dark eyebrows lifted, and she swiped a finger down her suntanned face. “The Lapps’ other granddaughter?”

  He nodded.

  Before Mom could respond, Amy turned from the sink and pointed at him. “I knew it, Brother. You’re sweet on Sara, aren’t you?” Her chin jutted out as she smirked at him.

  Feeling the heat of embarrassment cover his face, Ezekiel tugged at his shirt collar. It felt like it was choking his neck. “I’m not sweet on anyone. Sara and I are just friends.”

  “I hope that’s true, Son.” Tapping one bare foot and then the other, Mom jumped back into the conversation. “Sara’s not Amish, and she won’t be staying with her grandparents forever. So don’t get too attached to her. Lenore’s a better choice for you, and she’s already joined the church.”

  Ezekiel’s jaw tensed. He was on the verge of telling his mother that he had no plans to court Lenore, much less join the Amish church, but something held him back. He would never admit it to anyone, but there were times when the thought of going English sent shivers of apprehension up his spine. Ezekiel had been blessed with the support of his family for so long, he wasn’t sure he could make it in the English world without them. Even so, his curiosity with modern things and desire to try some of them out kept him unable to give up his dream. It was stupid to be on the fence about this. He wished someone he trusted would tell him which way to go. For now though, there was only one place for Ezekiel to go, and that was out to the greenhouse.

  “I need to go help Dad.” He glanced at his sister, then back at his mother. “I’ll talk to you later, Mom.”

  “Okay. Tell your daed I’ll join you all in the greenhouse once Amy and I get the dishes done.”

  “Sure, I’ll tell him.” Ezekiel went out the door. Even though it was obvious that Mom wasn’t fond of the idea of him asking a young woman who wasn’t Amish to the singing, he looked forward to seeing Sara this Friday afternoon. Not only did he enjoy her company, but being in her presence strengthened his desire to leave the Amish world behind.

  The morning had started out humid, and as Michelle made her way to the barn, she paused to wipe her sweaty forehead. She’d seen Brad briefly when he came to pick up Willis for a dental appointment. She wished she could have talked to him longer, but maybe there would be an opportunity when he and Willis returned. She hadn’t seen Brad since they went to the Shady Maple, and she had a few more questions about the Bible she wanted to ask.

  When Michelle entered the barn, she was greeted by her frisky pup and his mother, both wanting to play.

  She bent to pet each of their heads, then shooed them away. “Not now, you two. I want to check
on the piglets, and I volunteered to help Mary Ruth bake some bread this morning.”

  The dogs tipped their heads and looked up at her as if they understood every word she’d said. Then Sadie gave a deep bark, and Rascal followed with a weak imitation, before both dogs raced out of the barn.

  Michelle snickered. In the beginning, she was unsure about living around so many animals, but she felt differently now and was thankful for the opportunity to spend time with most of the critters here on the Lapps’ farm.

  It seems I really could be a farm girl, Michelle mused. She smiled, remembering how when she’d first arrived at the Lapps’ farm, she had to convince herself that she could do this. Everything seemed so foreign and quaint. Michelle wasn’t sure back then that she could even last a day, much less all these weeks.

  Hearing the distinctive squeal of pigs, Michelle made her way over to Penny’s stall. She stood for a while, watching the piglets nurse, and a peaceful feeling encompassed her. It was fun to watch the little babies wiggling around and crawling over each other, as they competed to get to their mother’s milk.

  Michelle couldn’t believe in the nearly two months she’d been here how much she had come to love this place. She’d learned to bake, cook, tend the animals, and even drive a horse and buggy. She felt comfortable wearing less makeup and plainer clothes too. Even the emotional pain she had endured in the past seemed to be slowly receding. She had begun to feel as if living here with the Lapps was where she belonged.

  Wish there was something I could do to keep the real Sara from coming here to meet her grandparents—or at least prolong it further.

  She tapped her chin. Maybe there is. I can write her another letter, pretending to be Mary Ruth, and say October’s not a good time either. Or I could even say they’ve changed their minds about meeting her at all.

  Michelle heaved a sigh. But that would be heaping one lie on top of another. Mary Ruth and Willis did want to get to know their granddaughter. Trouble was, they believed they already were. Well, she had all of August and September to decide what to do. Meanwhile, Michelle would enjoy every minute possible with Mary Ruth, Willis, Ezekiel, and Brad. They had all become like family to her.