Authors: Unknown
She wondered what it might be like to celebrate the first-year milestone as someone who’d known the Old Ways but “turned fancy” choosing modern life over a solid Amish upbringing, and of their own free will yet. Honestly, shecouldn’timagine doing such a thing herself, but she tried to envision Katie preparing a big meal for Daniel, lighting candles on the table just for looks. More than likely, they enjoyed all the comforts of modern conveniences. Electric lights and fancy kitchen appliances, telephones, even radios —being’ Mennonites now, and all. Mary was fairly certain of this, yet she’d never been inside their home. Though once she’d
128
driven horse and buggy, secretly, past th house.
Plodding through the barnyard, she helc John’s heavy lantern in hand, following the wide circle of light beneath her feet and beyond. City folk even English farmers
hadn’t any idea just how dark the hollow got at night. They had their streetlights, lamps burning in houses and stores. No need for gas lamps or lanterns. Took electricity for granted, prob’ly, so handy it
was.
Sometimes she and John sat out on the front porch, staring at the farmland, acres and acres of darkness, ‘specially on a night with no moon. An evening such as this. ‘Course, she couldn’t see past the long miles it would take to look into the bustling city of Lancaster. But she knew there were radiant lights ablaze on every street corner and some in between, too. She knew this because she had ridden into town on occasion. Not in a buggy through the busy narrow streets — not only unsafe, but unwise. She had gone in a van driven by a Mennonite man, heading to Central Market downtown. Several times she had traveled the highway to visit some of Mamma’s distant cousins in Newburg, south of Harrisburg.
129
Lookin’ up at the stars, sometimes Mary and her husband would see a giant beacon cast its rays of light against the black sky, slowly moving round and round, the power of its brilliance beyond her understanding. “It’s some English folk having a carnival somewhere or maybe a car lot sale,” John would say, his only explanation for the wasteful display.
So English city folk worked and lived and spent their hours under bright lights, a world she did not comprehend, nor care to. Mary wondered if any of their elderly family members remembered back to gas lanterns or candles on the table. Did any of them miss the quietude an ink black night could afford? Did they recall how difficult it was writing a letter or reading a recipe book by candlelight?
All day long the land seemed to glow with the light of the sun shinin’ down. During the day a body never thought twice ‘bout how dark the world would be come nightfall. The minute the sun set, the People went out to get their gas lamps, carrying them into the kitchen to brighten things up a bit. Life truly revolved around the light.
Her thoughts turned back to Katie and Clan. On the morning of their first anniver—
130
sary, would Daniel go looking for Katie in the kitchen, say to her with a big smile, “Happy day, dear!”? Would he then sit at the table while Katie served him a big breakfast of fresh cantaloupe, and strawberries, too, griddle cakes, eggs on toast, and black coffee? Halfway through the meal, Clan might get up from the table and lean down and give his sweetheart girl a kiss. And Katie, pleased as punch, might be thinkin’ all the while of the gift he surely had waiting for her, along with the special one she’d purchased for him, havin’ saved up money for several months from takin’ in sewing, along with her baked-goods money, no doubt. Then while Katie washed and dried dishes, she might think of the anniversary greetings sure to arrive in the day’s mail. A good many would come from the hollow, from Katie’s immediate family, as well as dozens of extended family members. There would be a card from Mary, too, wishing Katie “many happy years ahead,” the handwritten note might say, though Mary truly wished she might write something more along the lines of “Looking forward to seeing you soon,” or “Wish we could help you celebrate.”
Setting the lantern down, she left it there
131
on the ground and headed out into the dark field. She craned her neck, looking at the sky, at wee twinkles of light in the far-flung heavens, too dim to make a difference on the mule path she trod.
When she’d gone more than an acre away from the golden sphere of light, she turned and stared back at John’s lantern. “Oh, Katie, how can you be so awful stubborn?” she whispered into the stillness. “Why’d you hafta go and botch things up SO?”
She sighed. Alone in the grazing land, Mary kept her face toward the distant lantern light, recalling her own first anniversary celebration some months back. John had surprised her with a handmade hickory rocker. Such a wonderful-gut present it was. He had acted almostschofischsheepish about the gift, standing back as she tried it out, rocking back and forth, just grinnin’ up at him.“Doya like it?” he’d said, keeping his eyes on her. “Suits me just fine, and it’s right perry, too,” she’d said happily, waiting for him to come and pull her up out of the rocking chair and gather her into his arms. He had kissed her with more passion than she’d become accustomed to lately, and with that she had to sit back down in
132
as he smiled at her.
She wondered how they might celebrate their fiftieth wedding anniversary. Fifty years of devotion to each other lovin’ each other, their blended family, and by then, dozens of grandchildren, Lord will ing that, along with having served and ministered to the People here in the hollow for half a century.Ifthe Good Lord saw fit to give them that many years. She didn’t ever want to take such a thing for granted. Never.
Standing there in the middle of the meadow, she wondered what John would think of her idea to bake a pie and take it over to Katie. She didn’t hafta guess too hard to know. Then again, she wouldn’t go behind John’s back, though she was awful sure her bishop husband would oppose her payin’ Katie a visit.
But, oh, she longed to see where her friend lived, shunning or no. She’d give most anything to do so. If not this week, someday.
As forthisday, she had ever such gut news for John, the minute the house was quiet. After supper, prob’ly, when everyone was tucked into bed. Their firstborn child
theirs together was to be born next
133
spring. Scarcely could she think on it without joyful tears.
The night was growing chilly now, and she clung to her shawl, pulling it up round her shoulders. Best be getting back to the house, put finishing touches on the meal. She picked up her pace, making her way toward the lantern’s glow. Her eye caught shimmers of light out on the road as they bobbed along equal to the speed of a horse and carriage, winging its way toward hearth and home.
John!Her heart leaped up at the thought of both the present and the future . . the tiny babe growing within her. She cherished the strange yet precious life-flutters, a fusion of hope and love. John’s new son or daughter tucked just beneath her own heart.
The dark outline of the house became more evident as she approached the lantern and stooped to pick it up. Pausing, she took simple pleasure in the dim barnyard ahead, aware of the single gas lamp reflected in the kitchen windows. Not a powerful beacon, still it shone, poking holes in the face of night.
Her splendid idea of going to see Katie in her modern house seemed somehow less urgent now. Why, she’d simply bake a spe—
134
cial anniversary pie and take it over to Rebecca Lapp. It would give Katie’s mamma a gut excuse to ride horse and buggy over there.
ffah, “tis a better idea,she thought, going to the barn and returning John’s lantern. Then Mary hurried across the yard, up the back steps, and into the house.
135
6
A Gift to Remember
The holiest of all holidays are those Kept by ourselves in silence and apart; The secret anniversaries of the heart.
— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Katie heard the phone ringing from where she stood under the rose arbor cutting down the last of the dried vines. Clippers in hand, she hurried up the gentle slope of the back lawn and into the house. Picking up the phone, she answered, “Hullo?”
“This is Bash Jewelers calling. May I
speak to Katie Fisher?”
“This is Katie.”
“Your special order is in,” the jeweler said. “You may pick it up at your convenience.”
“Thank you.” She hung up the phone, thinking what a wonderful-gut surprise the new watch would be for Clan on the occasion of their first wedding anniver—
136
sary. In just two days.
There were a good many things she must do between now and then. Setting the clippers down on the kitchen counter, she took from her sweater pocket a folded piece of paper markedAnniversary Listat the top. She’d made a rather long list for the occasion to keep herself on track, jotting down everything she could possibly think of, hopin’ the day might go off without a hitch. In addition to having the house tiptop clean, she also planned to cook a nice hot meal to be served at five o’clock in the evening, complete with candles and her best china and silverware, all done up in the dining room. Just for the two of them. ‘Course, if circumstances had been different — were she and Clan not under the Bann they would, most likely, be celebrating their anniversary around Mamma’s big trestle table in her enormous kitchen, eating with loved ones and friends. As it was, shehadthought of inviting their minister, who’d married them at the old Mennonite meetinghouse, and his wife. Had even given thought to inviting the Freys, their new church friends. But, upon further reflection, she’d decided against it. No, this first year the celebrating would belong to them alone, a truly private event.
137
Ever since her recent visit with Darlene Frey, Katie had been eager to get things written down in an orderly fashion. The two women had spent a relaxing afternoon chatting on Darlene’s porch swing, and Katie had made note of the quaint little swing for two, thinking what fun it would be to own one. That day Darlene had emphasized to her the need to prioritize a list, beginning with the most important items and working down. “That’s the only way I’m able to juggle everything,” she’d said.
So Katie had gone home and promptly written on the line beside the numeral one:Gift for Clan.
Weeks before she’d made a trip to the long-established jewelers on North Queen Street in downtown Lancaster. After describing to the clerk what she was hoping to purchase, they found a fine watch with not one speck of gold edging on the face, ideal for a conservative Mennonite man. The wrist strap was a padded dark brown leather in a wide grain. “I’ll take that one,” she’d said, glad to have saved up money from taking in some sewing, as well as the sale of her baked goods, which she took to the small general store to be sold on consignment.
But, sadly, she discovered the watch was
138
the last of its kind and must remain in the showcase. The clerk assured her they could order one exactly like it. “In time for my anniversary?” Katie asked. “Certainly!” was the enthusiastic reply.
She had ordered the watch, and now it had come in, ready to be purchased and picked up. Her heart quickened at the thought of Clan opening the gift. He certainly needed a new watch. The strap on the old one was beginning to fray; the clock face was scratched, too, thanks to years of drafting blueprints and whatnot.
Katie set about checking off the first item, Dan’s gift, knowing full well that the watch could easily be gotten first thing tomorrow. Then she checked off other items farther down the list.Purchase a three-inch steak.Jah, she’d found a nice cut at the market. She would prepare it Saturday afternoon, following their noon meal.
Next,seasonings.A careful look at her pantry each shelf lined with freshly canned vegetables, fruit, and preserves
and she spied parsley and ground pepper needed for her scalloped potatoes recipe, as well as some coconut and nutmeg for the coconut squash dish. Her eyes caught sight of a row of tall glass jars of asparagus and she decided, then and there, to add
139
creamed asparagustoher menu for Saturday night. She also planned to make Mary’s lime salad, a recipe from their teen years, which called for marshmallows and cream cheese, two ingredients she had written on her list. She would make sure she squeezed in a quick trip to the grocery store sometime today for those items. Yes, and she mustn’t forget to pick up a lemon for Dan’s favorite pie, her specialty: lemon sponge pie.
Besides redding up the house and tidying up the rose arbor, she must think ahead to preparing an early supper tonight as she had each evening this week, due to special meetings at church. Along with the two-hour meetings, there was to be a get-together this afternoon over at Darlene Frey’s house for the church women’s annual Fall Bake Sale, which Katie just so happened to be heading up.
She thought of her friend Mary managingherdays, tending to the duties of a bishop’s wife, as well as looking after five school-age children. No wonder the dear girl had appeared on the verge of exhaustion when last Katie visited. No wonder . .
The thought of being an instant stepmother to five youngsters was enough to
140
overwhelm her, and Katie was ever so grateful that, Lord willing,herbabies would arrive one at a time, giving her and Clan ample opportunity to adjust to a new phase of life: parenting. Whenever the Lord saw fit to bless them, she was ready. And when their childrendidcome, by then she would have Darlene’s art of list-making all figured out.
Returning to the garden, Katie tended to the task of clipping away the dead vines, finishing the job in a few minutes. She stepped back to have a look. The arbor was ready for winter, and next spring there would be many more roses, to be sure. The tall, multi-sided birdhouse rose high in the center of the yard, towering over what had been beds of pansies and phlox and petunias. She liked to plant the same color together, making for a bold profusion of color in a flower bed. Something Mamma had always done.
Her thoughts flying off in tangents, Katie hurried to the potting shed. The tiny shelter was still wrapped in morning-glory vines on one side. Those ramblin’ vines needed some tending to, as well.Another day,she thought. The garden shed bordered their backyard, offering a pleasant and sunny spot to start clippings and store