Chapter 3
SOMEONE KNOCKED ON EMMA’S BEDROOM door, and she jumped at the sound.
“Emma, are you awake?” Grandpa’s resonating voice could be heard easily through the door.
“Jah, Grandpa, I’m up,” she called. “But I don’t have my stockings and shoes on.”
“Okay, well, I’ll let your grandma know that you’re not ready for breakfast yet.”
“I promise I’ll be ready soon.”
“That’s good,” he said, “because we don’t want to be late for church.”
When Emma heard her grandfather’s heavy footsteps move down the hall and descend the stairs, she plunked down on the cedar chest at the end of her bed to put on her stockings and shoes.
Although Emma had always enjoyed attending church, she felt some apprehension about going to the service this morning.
There would be many people there she didn’t know, and she’d be expected to socialize during the simple meal following the service.
What if someone questions me about why I’m visiting my grandparents for the summer?
Emma asked herself. What would they think if I told them I came here to learn how to cook and sew?
Her shoulders curled over her chest. Oh, how humiliating that would be.
They would probably think there was something wrong with me.
I might even be asked why my own mother didn’t teach me those things.
Would I have to explain that my mamm had tried, but I’d simply refused to listen because I wanted to do other things?
Emma worked her stockings up both legs and slipped into her shoes. Forcing her shoulders back and moving toward the door, she made a decision. If anyone does ask the questions I’m dreading, I’ll simply smile and change the subject.
Emma sat quietly and reverently on a backless wooden bench positioned on the women’s side of the room.
Although a few people had greeted her when she and her grandparents first arrived, Emma was glad that no one had asked any questions of her before she’d come into the building.
The service they were attending today was being held in one of their church member’s buggy sheds that had been cleared out and cleaned thoroughly for today’s three-hour service.
Singing from the Ausbund, the church hymnal, was over, as well as reading Scripture passages.
Now one of the church ministers, an elderly man with a long white beard, stood before the people, about to preach a message in German.
He had no notes—only a Bible in his hands, which Emma knew he would be quoting from frequently.
At least that’s how it was in her family’s church district back home.
I bet my parents and sister are sitting in church right now too, Emma thought.
I wonder if they miss me not being with them today.
It had only been three days since Emma’s arrival at her grandparents’ house, so Mom and Dad wouldn’t have received her letter yet.
She looked forward to hearing from them, and hoped it would be soon.
It was probably silly for her to miss home so much, but Emma was already homesick, longing for her own bed and everything that was familiar to her.
Emma cared about her grandparents, of course, but she didn’t know them nearly as well as she did Mom, Dad, and Rachel.
Besides, expectations were being placed on her now that she hadn’t had to deal with at home—like the cooking and sewing she disliked.
The meat loaf I made the other night was terrible, and yesterday’s sewing lesson didn’t go well either.
Emma glanced down at her hands, clasped in her lap.
Pins and needles—needles and pains. Emma had lost track of how many times she’d stuck herself.
The use of Grandma’s treadle sewing machine hadn’t helped any either.
I couldn’t even sew a straight line on the pieces Grandma had cut out for me after I’d proved to her that I couldn’t cut the material that we’d brought home from the fabric store without making a mess of things.
Emma sighed. Guess I’m a hopeless case when it comes to cooking or sewing.
Grandma oughta send me home tomorrow instead of trying to make me into something I’m not.
Emma pushed her thoughts aside and focused on the minister standing between the men’s side of the room and the women’s.
She didn’t know why she’d let her thoughts wander down a negative path.
After all, she enjoyed going to church and hearing God’s Word preached.
But she hadn’t enjoyed it as a young girl.
Back then it had been hard for her to sit for three hours and listen to someone speaking in a language she hadn’t fully learned.
Of course, once she’d started going to school, German had been taught along with the English language.
Up until first grade, the only language spoken in Emma’s home was the traditional Pennsylvania Dutch.
Out shopping, at the bank, or when they were around their English neighbors who didn’t speak or understand their Amish language, Emma’s parents had always spoken English.
For that reason, before her school days, Emma had picked up a few words but couldn’t speak English fluently until she’d learned it well in school.
She was glad that she’d been taught German too, since it was spoken in all Amish church services.
There I go, thinking too much again when I should be listening.
Giving the minister her full attention, Emma reflected on the verse the man had just quoted.
He said it was verse 17 of James 1: “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning.”
“We can use this passage of scripture as the basis for a prayer of gratitude and being able to recognize God’s blessings,” the minister stated.
“Our prayers should express thankfulness for all the good things in life, acknowledging that they come from God and not man. It can also be a prayer for discernment, seeking God’s guidance in recognizing and appreciating every one of His gifts. ”
Emma sucked in her lower lip as she thought more about what the white-haired man had said.
Do I express my thankfulness for all the good things God has given me?
she asked herself. Probably not. Like many others here today, I often take all the good things for granted and forget to thank the Lord for His gifts.
I need to do better in that regard and stop feeling sorry for myself because I was sent here to learn how to be a good homemaker.
I need to be more appreciative of Grandma’s efforts.
I’m sure that she and Grandpa, as well as my folks, only want what’s best for me.
After the church service concluded, a light meal was served. Ivan wished there had been more food to eat, since he hadn’t eaten much breakfast this morning, due to the number of chores that had to be done in the barn before it was time to leave for church.
Ivan glanced over at the tables where all the women sat eating their meal, and he noticed a newcomer—a young, petite woman with light brown hair, sitting next to Luellen Herschberger.
She looked familiar to him, but he couldn’t figure out where he’d seen her before.
Ivan tried not to stare, in case she might look this way and see him watching her.
And then there was his brother Aaron sitting across the table from him, who could easily say something if he noticed Ivan looking at the women’s tables.
Oh yes, Ivan could almost hear Aaron embarrassing him with an unnecessary comment or question.
Aaron was newly married, and sometimes he teased Ivan about not having a serious relationship with anyone yet.
He liked to remind Ivan that at the age of twenty-two, he should have found someone by now.
Well, Ivan was in no hurry to get married and raise a family, but if and when he did decide to seek a wife, it would have to be a young lady who had common interests with him.
He knew too many couples, like his parents and older brothers, Peter and Delbert, who seemed to love each other but didn’t have a lot of similar interests.
It seemed odd to Ivan, and he wondered sometimes how they made it work.
I’ve heard it said that opposites attract, but I’m more inclined to seek a woman whose likes and dislikes are more like mine, he told himself, pulling his gaze away from the young woman he’d spotted, and looking back at the slice of bread on his plate that had been covered with ham and cheese spread, which he’d chosen rather than the traditional Amish peanut butter spread.
There were also some pickles and slices of red beets to choose from, and Ivan had taken some of both, along with a cup of coffee and a few shortbread cookies to dunk in the warm brew.
At least that’s what Ivan liked to do whenever he’d been served any kind of cookie with hot coffee.
Ivan chanced a peek at the young woman again, and it dawned on him.
Although he’d only seen her briefly, just long enough to wave, he was quite sure that she was the one he’d seen standing by the Herschbergers’ mailbox the other day, when he’d been on his way back to his father’s harness shop after running a few errands in town.
He’d offered her a friendly wave, and she had waved back.
Ivan wondered if the young woman might be a relative of Marlin or Luellen and was visiting them for the weekend.
He wished he had the courage to go over to the women’s section and ask.
But that would be too forward, and it might embarrass her.
Me too, Ivan thought, glancing at Aaron again.
No doubt he’d have something to say about it.
If not here, then the next time he and his bride visit our home.