Amish Circle Letters - the Complete Series Read online

  At breakfast? All of a sudden, Steve felt his heart quicken. Was she trying to tell him something? If she was having breakfast with her daed in the morning, certainly she wasn’t married yet! But those eyes, he thought. How could such a beauty with such sparkling eyes and an angelic laugh not have captured someone’s heart? “Your daed’s a farmer?”

  Another laugh escaped her lips. “Nee,” she said lightly. “I just told you that he runs this store. But he keeps reminding me that there is great value in a strong farmer man,” she added, the color immediately flooding to her cheeks. “Anyway, what size are those windows?” She took the measurements and made a note on the paper. Then, looking up at him, she gave him a final smile. “Was nice to see you again, Steven Fisher . We’ll have those windows delivered with your brother Isaac’s order for hay in two weeks.”

  He returned the smile and backed away from the counter. He wished there was something else to say but he knew that the conversation was over. Still, there was something about Mimi Hostetler. That dark hair and those pretty eyes lingered in his memory long after he slid back into the passenger seat of the car that had been waiting outside to take him back to the farm.

  Mary Ruth sat on the porch, a plastic cup of fragrant meadow tea in her hand. Her mamm made the best meadow tea, although Anna’s sure came close. Mamm’s tea was never too sweet or weak. She seemed to use the right amount of tea from the garden every single time she made it. Try as Mary Ruth would, she could never replicate her mamm’s recipe. She’d forget to take the leaves out or the water would boil over. Cooking just didn’t seem to be her thing.

  It was warm outside and she was still tired from the past few days cutting hay with her daed. Early mornings, long days and late nights were taking a toll on her. Now, with the sun shining and a warm breeze hitting her face, she shut her eyes and leaned her head back against the side of the house. Why me, she thought bitterly. Just when everything was going so well!

  She knew that she shouldn’t complain. After all, it had only been yesterday when her brother Steve’s farm had been vandalized. He had been extra quiet during the morning milking, barely speaking to anyone. Although Steve was always soft-spoken and reserved, it was clear that he was disturbed by the invasion from the outside. Mary Ruth hated to see him upset. He was such a kind, gentle man. To see Steve upset truly bothered her.

  Shortly after the morning chores, a car had pulled into the driveway. Mary Ruth had looked out the kitchen window, not surprised to see that Steve had disappeared with the Mennonite that he always hired to take him places. Letting the white curtain fall back over the glass, Mary Ruth could only presume that he had gone to the store to order the new windows. Steve was never one to let grass grow under his feet when it came to tending his farm, that was for sure and certain.

  For the past few months, she had been traveling to the market down in Maryland to help her sister Sylvia and her husband John with their new meat stand. Traveling to market meant early morning rising and late nights coming home. The long days wore on her nerves, as did the funny things that the Englischers said and did. Oh, to be certain, she had gotten used to the surprising ways of the Englischers but had always known them to be simply curious about the Amish, never really malicious. Now that she had seen the other side of the Englischers’ world, the dark side of mischief and vandalism, she realized there was more than met the eye to the world outside of Lancaster County. It worried her that anyone could be so hateful and mean spirited that they’d deliberately damage another person’s property.

  Despite all of that, however, it was the news that her mamm had sprung on her as they were preparing dinner for the men that left her stunned.

  Mary Ruth took a short, crisp breath and opened her eyes. The fields were growing but it still would be weeks before the harvest. In the meantime, between Steve and John David, Isaac didn’t need any help with the hay cutting coming up in two weeks. So, there was no excuse for Mary Ruth to say no to her sister Leah. She had just had a baby, after all, and needed the help. Even though their oldest sister Rachel lived on the adjacent farm, Rachel had her hands full with six kinner of her own. She couldn’t spare the time or the hands to help Leah with this new baby…a special needs baby, at that.

  “Don’t like babies,” she mumbled to herself.

  She knew it was close to blasphemy but it was true. She had never warmed up to babies and didn’t care one bit for having some of her own. She knew the hard work that went into being a farmer’s wife and a mother to ten children from watching her own mamm. There was an endless amount of clothes to wash, food to cook, plates to shelve, and people to clean up after. Not for me, she told herself.

  Now, Leah had asked for Mary Ruth to come visit and help her with this new baby. Her parents had said yes without even consulting her. Of course, Mary Ruth knew that, had they asked, she would have acquiesced. That was just what she did. She always said yes to help others, even when she wanted to run the other way.

  It wasn’t the farming life that bothered her. No, that wasn’t it, for sure and certain. Cutting hay, plowing fields, and tending to the animals was right up there with Mary Ruth’s favorite things to do. She loved working alongside nature and her family. She loved the smell of freshly turned earth. She loved the feel of the sun on her face. All of those things made her feel closer to God. After all, God wanted people to be proper stewards of the earth, to tend the soil and live from the land.

  What bothered Mary Ruth was the idea that having ten or more children would keep her tied to the house. It wasn’t even an idea. It was the expectation. She saw too many women getting married and, within ten months, having their first baby. For most young Amish wives, a new baby would come every 18 to 24 months. The house would become messy, the mother always tired and worn out, and the days of working the farm just plain over. And that was the real problem.

  Even her sister-in-law, Anna, was a perfect example. Despite just moving to the main house, now that they had so many kinner, it was a mess. The kitchen was always filled with dirty dishes and the floor constantly needed a thorough washing. The children left toys everywhere and the counter was never cleared. Why? Because she had five small children and, from the looks of it, another one on the way.

  “You thinking about packing then?” Miriam said as she opened the kitchen door. She stared at her daughter as she sat on the porch. Softening her voice, she added, “It will only be for a few weeks, Mary Ruth.”

  “Do I have to go?” Mary Ruth whined, immediately ashamed of herself. At twenty-one years of age, she should know better than to question her parents. Respect for one’s parents was paramount to the Amish, second only to church and God. Despite the fact that she had been baptized last autumn, she still felt disconnected from the obligations that came along with it. Leaving her home to help her sister seemed to her quite a big stretch of the Golden Rule.

  “Mary Ruth Fisher !” her mamm scolded. Her hands curled into fists, which she placed firmly on her wide hips.

  As soon as her mother used her full name, Mary Ruth knew she was in trouble. “I’m sorry, Mamm,” she mumbled.

  “You should be!” Miriam snapped. “Your sister is in need of your help. She has a new boppli to tend to along with her other kinner. Not to mention that baby Jacob has special needs with that Down Syndrome. He has just as much need for love and family as the rest, maybe more so. God has blessed your sister Leah with a special challenge and we, her family, will be there to help her.”

  “Ach, Mamm,” Mary Ruth said, shaking her head. “You know how I feel about babies.”

  Miriam raised an eyebrow at her youngest child. “Babies in general or this baby in particular?”

  “In general!” Mary Ruth snapped. She knew what her mother was insinuating and it didn’t please her. She wasn’t avoiding helping Leah because the baby was different. That wasn’t it at all. The truth was that she didn’t like babies, clear and simple. And she didn’t want to change her routine. Being home, helping with the farm work,
and going to market with John and Sylvia was the pattern she liked to follow. Staying with Leah and living in her messy house was not something to look forward to.

  “I don’t appreciate that tone,” Miriam said sternly, her eyes narrowing as she stared at Mary Ruth. “Now, it will do you good to get your bag packed. Your daed will be taking you there in the morning after milking time. And I expect nothing less than cooperation and help from you. This is your sister and her kinner that are in need.”

  And, with that, the discussion was over. Mary Ruth knew that she could never argue with both her daed and mamm. Once unified, it was a front that could not be conquered. To Leah’s she was destined to go. And to help Leah with her kinner and baby Jacob was what she would have to do. She sighed as she stood up. Best tackle it head on, she thought, as she headed inside the house and proceeded to stomp upstairs to get her bag packed, hoping that the loud noise properly expressed her frustration. It was going to be a long few weeks, that was for sure and certain.

  It was the next day, long after Elias had left in the buggy to take Mary Ruth over to Leah’s farm that Miriam noticed the envelope sitting on the counter. She sighed and shook her head. How many times, she thought, did I tell that girl to take the letter with her? She glanced around the room, knowing that both Steve and John David were already busy in the barn, probably cleaning equipment from the morning milking.

  Wiping her wet hands on her apron, Miriam picked up the letter that was addressed to her daughter, Rachel. Since she lived across the road from Leah, it would have been faster if Mary Ruth had taken the letter but she had forgotten. Now, there was only one way to get it there: the mailbox.

  Miriam shook her head, disappointed that the journey of the circle letter was already delayed. With a quick glance at the clock, she realized that she still had time to get the letter to the mailbox in time for a morning pick-up. Luck might be on her side and the letter could possibly arrive the next day…two at the most.

  Not bothering to put on her shoes, she hurried out of the kitchen, the screen door slamming behind her. The cows lifted their heads from the tall, green grass as she passed them in the fields. Miriam didn’t seem to notice their inquisitive stares as she walked down the lane toward the mailbox at the end of the driveway.

  Chapter Two: Rachel’s Letter

  Dear Family,

  I was surprised to receive Mamm’s letter but excited to begin writing. It will be wunderbaar gut to hear from my brothers and sisters. With the summer haying underway, we don’t have much time for visiting much anymore. I’ll be looking forward to Leah’s church service in October when we all come together for worship and fellowship.

  Elijah has recovered from his spring cold. Took him longer than we thought to get better. Thankfully, neighbors helped with the plowing and planting while he was recuperating.

  The kinner are doing well. Lydia is taking her instructional and will be baptized this fall. We suspect our first wedding will follow shortly thereafter. But she hasn’t said much more than asking about how much celery we planted last spring.

  The boys’ campout is being held at Menno Yoder’s this Thursday and Friday. Elam and Nathan are excited to attend. It’s the first campout for both since Nathan missed it last year due to his broken arm. I heard the boys are planning a softball game. I heard Menno is cutting hay early just so that the boys can have a good field to play in. Let’s hope it doesn’t rain as it has in past years.

  Church was held at Alvin Zooks’ yesterday. We had lots of visitors attend, including sister Mary Ruth. I know that Leah sure does appreciate her help with her kinner. It’s a blessing to have an extra pair of hands while she is adapting to the boppli Jacob’s needs.

  We were saddened to hear about brother Steve’s farm. We pray for the Englischers to stop those responsible before someone gets hurt. Fortunately, we have not had such experiences in our area.

  Well, I have about 20 chickens to pluck and dress this afternoon so I best stop the letter writing for now. I will pass the letters along to sister Leah. With Mary Ruth at the farm, lending a hand as she is, Leah has no excuses for holding up the circle!

  While I know it will be quite a few weeks, I also look forward to receiving updates about your families. May God keep and protect you and your families.

  With much blessings,

  Rachel

  Squinting in the dim light of the room, Rachel reread her letter one last time before she folded it neatly and tucked it into a fresh envelope. She took Mamm’s original letter and the list of addresses from the old envelope and slid these inside, too. Then, raising the envelope to her lips she quickly licked the glue in order to shut it.

  “Nathan!” she yelled out. “Nathan? Where are you?”

  “Here, Mamm.” Her sixteen-year-old son poked his head around the corner from the washroom. “What you need?”

  “Be needing you to run this over to Leah’s mailbox,” Rachel said as she stood up. She waved the envelope in the air as if beckoning him to take it. “We all know how long it takes for her to respond so the sooner she gets it, the better for the others.”

  “Aw Mamm,” he whined, making a face. “It’s so hot out!”

  Rachel frowned. “No back talk, now! Or I’ll be telling your daed and there will be no campout for you.”

  Grumbling under his breath, Nathan slowly walked over to his mother and took the letter. “Just to the mailbox, right?”

  “Might be nice if you stopped in to say hello,” she replied, turning her back to her son as she assessed the kitchen. The dinner dishes still needed to be put away and she had a long afternoon of folding the freshly laundered clothing that hung on the line to dry. Lydia was gone visiting friends for the afternoon and the smaller kinner were playing outside. Once Lydia returned, they’d tackle the chickens and get them ready for market.

  Glancing out the window, she watched as Nathan sluggishly made his way down the lane. Her other son, Elam, emerged from the barn and hurried to catch up, skipping alongside his brother. It was a mile walk to Leah’s. It was gut that he would have company although she reckoned she had a good hour before they would be back. Certainly they’d stop in to visit with the kinner and to see if Leah had any of her famous fresh baked shoo fly pie. Without doubt, Leah made the gooiest and tastiest shoo fly pie in their entire church district. Whenever there was a bake sale, her shoofly pies were always the first to sell out.

  The clouds began to thicken and the sky turned darker. Rachel wondered if it might rain after all. She decided to tackle the laundry first to be on the safe side. The dishes could wait to be put away, but if it rained, the laundry would get soaked and that would create more work for her.

  Outside on the porch, she pulled at the clothing line. The big round wheel squeaked as it moved. She made a mental note to mention it to Elijah. Would do no good if it rusted, that was for sure and certain. Too expensive to replace it.

  The air was muggy and some of the clothes still felt damp. She set them to the side, knowing that they’d have to finish drying inside the house. The sky was growing darker and a breeze blew in. Indeed, the rain was on its way. Rachel could feel it, the humidity in the air, the subtle scents emanating from her garden as the plants were opening up to soak in their liquid nourishment. She hoped it would pass quickly so that the field would dry out for the campout planned at the Yoder’s. Muddy fields meant dirty clothing and, if the rain didn’t stop, sick boys. With haying just another week away, that would not help Elijah one bit.

  She sighed as she removed Elam’s pants off the line. There was a hole over the right knee that she had already patched a couple of weeks before. Something else to fix, she thought as she made a mental note to ask her husband to pick up another set of wooden clothespins from the store. Instead of doing the laundry just on Mondays as was before, it now had to be done twice a week, sometimes even three times with all the kinner around. She glanced over toward the barn where Jonas, Rachel Ann, and Sarah were playing with the kittens. “You best b
e coming in,” she called out, “It’s going to storm anytime, now.”

  As they hurried toward the porch, she stopped Sarah before she dashed inside. “Want you to sweep the kitchen floor and get Rachel Ann to put away all these dinner dishes.”

  “Yes, mamm,” Sarah said.

  The rain began to fall, immediately after; slowly at first. Rachel hurried and began pulling the clothes off the line. She could fold them and put them away later. She just didn’t want more work with wet clothing. Already, the washroom was going to be a mess from the chickens. To have wet clothes hanging everywhere! She sighed again. There was nothing that she disliked more than a disorderly house. She liked her house clean and things put away. Cleanliness was next to godliness, after all.

  She had just pulled the last piece of clothing off the line when a streak of lightening flashed through the sky. A few seconds later, she heard the crack. “Going to be a doozey,” she mumbled and hurried into the house, the wooden screen door slamming shut behind her. At least they needed the rain and they weren’t going to hay until next week. If it rained now, the fields would most likely be dry in time for cutting and baling. Once cut, rain could ruin the hay. Damp hay couldn’t be baled since there was always the risk of mildew or, even worse, fire in the barn. Damp hay smoldered and burned many a barn each summer; not to mention what moldy hay could do to the animals, causing colic and possibly death if ingested in large quantities.

  The rain began pelting against the windows, the noise reverberating throughout the kitchen. It was soft at first then louder. She stood by the table and continued separating and folding the laundry. Most of it had been pulled off the line in time.

  Dressing chickens was most likely not going to happen, she realized. With a sigh, she quickly changed her course of action for the afternoon. Corn flake sugar cookies, she thought. I’ll have the kinner help me make corn flake sugar cookies. If everyone was going to be trapped inside the house, a fun afternoon of cookie making would suit just fine and cheer up some moods.