The Hope Jar Page 5

  “Yes, and I do want you to call me Grandpa,” Willis echoed.

  “Okay,” she murmured, barely able to look at either of them. Why did these two have to be so nice and easy to like? It made it that much harder for Michelle to pretend she was Sara.

  Michelle went over to Peanuts’s stall with Mary Ruth. She had to get her mind on something else.

  “We do tend to spoil our animals.” Mary Ruth cradled her horse’s head and greeted her with affectionate words. Then she handed Michelle a sugar cube. “Would you like to feed her?”

  “I guess.”

  “Just hold your hand out flat,” Willis instructed. “That way she won’t pinch your skin.”

  Michelle giggled when Peanuts used her soft upper and lower lips to gently take the sweet she offered. “I think she likes me.”

  “Well, sure she does.” Willis took a piece of straw out of Peanuts’s long mane, and the mare nuzzled his hands as if to say thanks.

  “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” Mary Ruth asked, leaning against the horse’s stall.

  Without giving it much thought, Michelle shook her head. “I’m pretty much alone now that my mom is gone.”

  Willis gave her a soft pat on the shoulder, and Mary Ruth slipped an arm around Michelle’s waist. “You’re not alone anymore. We’re here for you, Sara, and you’re welcome to stay with us for as long as you like.”

  She swallowed hard, her throat swelling from holding back tears. If you knew who I really am, you wouldn’t be so gracious.

  After they left the barn, and Michelle had met the hogs, Willis went to town to run some errands, using his horse and open buggy.

  As Michelle started walking toward the house, Mary Ruth paused near her vegetable garden. “Would you be willing to help me in the garden for a few hours?” she asked. “The weeds will take over if I don’t keep at it.”

  Michelle moistened her lips. “Well, I …”

  “If you’d rather not help, perhaps you can pull up a lawn chair and keep me company. It will give us more time to get better acquainted.”

  “The things is, I haven’t had much experience pulling weeds ’cause my mom never had a garden. But sure, I’ll do what I can to help.”

  “No garden?” Mary Ruth’s lips compressed. “I’m surprised to hear this. Why, when Rhoda was a girl, and even into her teen years, she spent a lot of time working in our garden.” Mary Ruth’s face relaxed and she snickered. “It seemed like that girl always had dirt under her fingernails, and I was often reminding her to clean her hands thoroughly.”

  Michelle rubbed her sweaty palms down the sides of her jeans. Was she ever going to say the right things? “You see, the truth is, my mom kept so busy with her job, she didn’t have time for gardening.”

  “Oh? What kind of work did she do?”

  Michelle pinched the bridge of her nose. Now what do I say? What kind of job should I give this pretend mother? “Mom was a hair stylist,” she blurted. “She had her own shop and was so busy she hardly had any time for herself.” There we go—another untruth on top of all the others. Michelle wondered how many more lies she’d have to tell before she gave up the Lapps’ hospitality.

  As Mary Ruth knelt on the ground next to her garden, she glanced at Sara. She’d pulled her beautiful auburn hair into a ponytail, and every once in a while, between pulling a few weeds, she would swat at the annoying gnats swarming around their heads.

  “What’s with all these bugs?” Sara scrunched up her face. “I’m afraid if I open my mouth too wide, I might swallow one of ’em.”

  “They’re gnats, and they always seem to be worse when it’s warm and humid—especially after it rains.” Mary Ruth flapped her hand at a few of the bugs near her nose. “But don’t worry; if you stay here long enough, you’ll get used to them. It’s a small price to pay for living in the country.”

  “Yeah, I suppose.”

  “Your mom didn’t care much for the pesky bugs either. She loved nature but couldn’t understand why God created gnats and wondered what possible purpose they could have here on this beautiful earth.”

  Sara frowned as she stuck her shovel into the ground next to a weed. “I think the earth would be a lot more beautiful if there were no irritating bugs.”

  Mary Ruth rubbed a hand against her heart. She could almost hear Rhoda saying those exact same words one muggy day when they were working in the garden. Like mother, like daughter, she thought. If only Rhoda could be here now, working alongside me and Sara.

  Tears welled in Mary Ruth’s eyes, and she blinked them away. So many times she had looked down the driveway and prayed their daughter would return. Rhoda was the second child she and Willis had lost, only at least they’d had her for the first eighteen years. After she’d left home, it felt as if she were dead—oh, the emptiness in Mary Ruth’s heart was awful. So many wasted years when they could have been with their daughter, and now, with Rhoda’s passing, there was no chance for that.

  Before their other son, Ivan, came along, they’d had a baby boy named Jake, who had died two weeks after he was born. Their sweet little boy had a heart condition that ended his life all too soon. Ivan was born two years later, and he grew up to be a fine young man. He was married now, and living in Paradise, not far away. He and his wife, Yvonne, had a daughter, Lenore, as well as two sons, Peter and Benjamin.

  Ivan and Rhoda had been close during their childhood and enjoyed swimming, fishing, and doing many other fun things together. He too was devastated when she left with only a note to say goodbye. When Mary Ruth had called to tell him about receiving Sara’s letter and shared the sad news of Rhoda’s death, Ivan had cried. Mary Ruth sobbed along with him, as the truth set in that the hope of seeing her daughter come home would never be fulfilled.

  “You okay?”

  Sara’s question pulled Mary Ruth out of her musings. “I’m fine. Just thinking about the past, is all.”

  Sara gave a nod. “Yeah, I do that myself sometimes.”

  “Well, as our church bishop said in a sermon a few weeks ago, we shouldn’t dwell so much on the past. What we are doing today and hope to do in the future are what count in the long run.”

  Sara kept swatting at the bugs and pulling weeds. Mary Ruth wished she knew what her granddaughter was thinking. Then, thinking of church meetings, she wondered if, were she to sew a few plain-style dresses, Sara would be willing to wear them. She studied the young woman, releasing a sigh. If Sara remains with us, could she adjust to the Amish way of life? Maybe she would even decide to join our church, get married, and settle down here in our community. That would make me so happy.

  Mary Ruth reminded herself not to expect too much from their granddaughter, but she couldn’t help being a wee bit hopeful.

  Chapter 5

  When Michelle woke up Sunday morning, every bone in her body ached. Yesterday, she’d helped Mary Ruth clean the house and bake two shoofly pies. When that was done, she’d stupidly let Willis talk her into helping him clean the barn. Big mistake. It was a smelly, dirty job. At least he hadn’t asked her to do anything with those horrible hogs she’d seen in the pen outside. But the whole time they’d worked, Willis kept asking her questions about Rhoda. That part was more painful than all the cleaning they’d done.

  Mary Ruth had done the same thing while she and Michelle cleaned house and baked. Some of the questions the Lapps asked were the same. Michelle hoped she had given good answers to both of them.

  More difficult than helping with chores was being asked so many questions about someone she knew nothing about. Maybe after she’d been here a few more days Willis and Mary Ruth would let up on the questions and talk about other things. It was understandable though, the Lapps wanting to know about their daughter, whose presence they’d been deprived of all these years. Truth was, Michelle had some questions of her own. She was eager to find out how much of what she’d seen and heard on TV about the Amish was true.

  Michelle pulled herself out of bed and lifted the shade
at the window to look out. No clouds in the sky at the moment—just a bright, sunny day. I hope the Lapps don’t expect me to go to church with them today. Since the Amish were a religious sort of people, she figured they probably were faithful about attending church on Sunday mornings. Michelle had no desire to sit in church and listen to some preacher talk about how God answers prayer. She’d heard that before when she’d been forced to attend Bible school.

  Michelle had actually tried praying a few times when she was a girl but never felt like her prayers reached heaven. If there even was a God. Because if God was real, why did He allow people to treat each other so cruelly? Of course, the Lapps did not seem harsh, but then, Michelle didn’t know them that well either.

  Michelle’s gaze went to the wooden chest at the foot of her bed. Curious to know what was inside, she lifted the lid, revealing a dark blue, Amish-style dress. She took it out, and saw a few more dresses under it, as well as some black shoes and a white, heart-shaped covering like the one Mary Ruth wore on her head.

  I bet these belonged to their daughter. She was tempted to try on one of the dresses, but thought better of it, thinking Mary Ruth might not approve. But then, how would she know, if I don’t mention what I did? After I see how I look in the bathroom mirror, I’ll take the dress off and put it back in the chest.

  Michelle took off her pajamas and slipped the dress on over her head. She didn’t wear a dress very often, and the ones she had worn never looked so plain. I wonder why Amish women wear dresses like this. Another question I should ask Mary Ruth.

  She reached in, picked up the kapp, and placed it on her head. Oh boy. I can only imagine what I must look like.

  Michelle left the room and trekked down the hall to the bathroom. While the mirror over the sink wasn’t full-length, at least she could see her upper body.

  She giggled at her reflection. If her long hair had been pulled back in a bun, she would almost look Amish.

  Michelle took off the head covering, and opened one of the cabinet drawers, where she found several hair pins. After securing her hair in a bun, she put the covering back in place. Silently staring at herself, Michelle wondered what it would be like if she were Amish. Could she handle dressing plain all the time, not to mention all the daily chores and doing without modern conveniences? It would be quite a change from the things she’d become accustomed to.

  Michelle shook her head. Probably couldn’t do it, although, except for the bugs, I would enjoy feeling one with nature, like I did when Mary Ruth and I were pulling weeds in her garden.

  Michelle left the bathroom and walked back toward her bedroom. She’d only gone a short ways when she heard footsteps on the stairs. A few seconds later, Mary Ruth appeared in the hallway.

  Michelle jumped, and Mary Ruth gasped. “Oh, my word, Sara, you look so much like your mother in that dress.”

  Embarrassed, Michelle dropped her gaze. “Sorry, Mary Ruth—I mean, Grandma. I should have asked first before trying on the dress.”

  “No, it’s okay. It was your mother’s, and you have every right to wear it.” Mary Ruth stepped up to Michelle. “In fact, I’d like you to have all her clothes that I’ve put away. You can take them whenever you decide to return to your home.” She placed her hand on Michelle’s arm. “Of course you’re welcome to stay here indefinitely if you like. We don’t expect you to join the Amish church, unless you should choose to do so. But maybe in time you could find a job locally and live here with us. And if you don’t want to get a job, that’s okay too. Would you at least give it some thought?”

  Michelle nodded. She felt like a mouse caught in a trap. When the time came for her to leave, she would go, but not without telling them first who she was.

  She glanced down at Rhoda’s dress, touching the bodice. “Is there a specific reason Amish women wear dresses like this?”

  “We choose to wear plain clothes and do not care to be changing styles designed to achieve glamour and not modesty.”

  Michelle pointed to the covering on Mary Ruth’s head. “And the kapp? Why do you wear that?”

  “We wear our coverings in obedience to the Bible. It says in 1 Corinthians 11:5, ‘Every woman that prayeth or prophesieth with her head uncovered dishonoureth her head.’ ”

  Michelle gave another nod, although she didn’t really understand it all. The Amish way of life seemed quaint to her, but it held a certain appeal.

  “I came up to tell you that breakfast is ready,” Mary Ruth said. “Oh, and I also wanted you to know that we’ll be having company later on.”

  “Really? I figured you and Grandpa might be going to church today.”

  “It’s our off-Sunday.”

  Michelle tipped her head. “What’s an off-Sunday?”

  “We Amish gather for worship every other Sunday. On the off weeks we will sometimes visit another church district, or we may go visiting. Today, our son, Ivan, and his family will be coming over. They are anxious to meet you.”

  “I see.” Michelle leaned against the wall for support. I suppose my so-called uncle will also have questions to ask. I just hope I’m able to give him all the right answers.

  “Sara, this is your uncle Ivan. He owns a general store in the area.” Willis grinned as he motioned to the two women standing beside Ivan. “And this is his wife, Yvonne, and daughter, Lenore, who is a teacher at one of our one-room schoolhouses in the area. His sons, Benjamin and Peter, couldn’t be here today, because they are visiting some friends in Kentucky.”

  Michelle forced a smile and shook their hands. She felt like a bug under a microscope when tall, blond-haired Ivan studied her face. Did he think she looked anything like his sister, Rhoda, or had Ivan figured out that Michelle was a fraud?

  Michelle turned her attention to Ivan’s wife and daughter. Yvonne, a tall, slender woman, had brown hair and matching eyes. Lenore looked similar, only her eyes were hazel-colored. She was a few inches shorter than her mother, and was also quite slender. Lenore appeared to be in her early or mid-twenties—it was hard to tell. It wouldn’t be right to just ask. Besides, what did it matter? It wasn’t as if they were really cousins.

  “Welcome, Cousin Sara.” Lenore stepped forward and gave Michelle a warm hug.

  Lenore’s mother hugged Michelle too, but Uncle Ivan remained where he was.

  Michelle shifted uneasily. I don’t think he likes me. Can Ivan see into the depths of my soul and know that I’m a phony?

  Ivan cleared his throat a couple of times. “Sorry for staring, Sara. It’s just hard to believe my sister’s daughter is here in this house.”

  No, she isn’t. Michelle bit the inside of her cheek. It was wrong to lie to these nice people, but she couldn’t bring herself to own up to the truth.

  “Does Sara remind you of your sister, Daadi?” Lenore looked at her father.

  Michelle didn’t know any Pennsylvania Dutch, but she assumed Daadi meant Daddy.

  Ivan nodded. “In some ways she does. I suppose it’s the color of Sara’s hair that reminds me of Rhoda. Her facial features are different though, but then I guess she probably looks like both of her parents.”

  You got that right, only they’re not the parents you’re thinking of. When Michelle was a girl, she’d often been told that she had her father’s red hair and blue-green eyes, but her mother’s facial features. Truthfully, she didn’t care if she resembled either of them. Her biological parents meant nothing to her. The day that social worker came and took Michelle and her brothers away was the day she’d emotionally divorced her parents.

  “Why don’t we all go outside and sit at the picnic table?” Mary Ruth suggested. “While Willis fires up the grill, we can visit.”

  Michelle fought the urge to roll her eyes. Oh great. I bet this will be a time for more questions fired at me.

  As they sat at the picnic table, eating hamburgers and hot dogs, Michelle felt as if all eyes were upon her. At least the smoke from the grill kept the gnats at bay. That was one positive.

  She’
d already answered dozens of questions—about her mother, where she’d grown up, siblings. Michelle hoped she’d remembered to give the same answers to their guests as she had when Mary Ruth and Willis asked these questions this past week. Michelle concentrated so hard on trying to give right answers, she could barely eat. Despite the gnawing in her stomach, she was glad when the meal was over.

  While Michelle, Yvonne, and Lenore helped Mary Ruth clear the table and carry things inside, Willis and Ivan went out to barn to check on Sadie, who was supposed to have her pups any time.

  The women had started washing the dishes when Ivan burst into the kitchen. “Hey Mom, Dad wanted me to tell you that Sadie’s about to deliver. He thought maybe everyone would like to come out and watch as her babies come into the world.”

  Mary Ruth looked at Michelle. “How about it, Sara? Have you ever witnessed puppies being born?”

  Michelle shook her head. And I don’t think I want to either.

  “Well good, let’s go.” Mary Ruth gestured to Lenore and Yvonne. “You two are welcome to come with us.”

  Yvonne shook her head. “I’ve seen plenty of pups born in my day. I’ll remain here and finish washing the dishes.”

  “Same here. Mom can wash, and I’ll dry.” Lenore picked up a dish towel and moved toward the sink.

  “Danki.” Mary Ruth opened the back door and stepped outside.

  Michelle reluctantly followed. “Does danki mean thanks?” she asked as they headed for the barn.

  Grinning, Mary Ruth bobbed her head. “If you stay here long enough, I’ll bet you’ll be speaking Pennsylvania Dutch in no time. Jah, I do.”

  Jah meant “yes,” and danki was the word for “thanks.” Michelle didn’t know how many other Amish words she could learn while she was here, but she was off to a good start. Well, maybe not a good start, but a few words learned anyway.

  Michelle wasn’t certain she cared to watch the birth of Sadie’s puppies, but at least it would take the attention off her. And she sure wasn’t going to stay in the house with her pretend aunt and cousin, who would no doubt ply her with more questions.