When Strawberries Bloom (10 page)

Lizzie snorted a bit, thinking how they wouldn’t look any better at that point.

Mam had two quiltings that summer after the new living room was finished, inviting the women from church to quilt Emma’s quilts. Mam had pieced one the summer before called a “Dahlia,” blocks of small, star-shaped flowers made with lavender fabric on a background of white. Emma’s favorite color was lavender, so after the quilt was finished and bound, she was absolutely delighted.

Late that summer, Lizzie helped the Amish parents of the community paint and varnish the walls of the brand-new schoolhouse. The small, square building sat on the side of a gently rolling hill on the edge of Elam Stoltzfus’ farm. A little meandering creek wrapped through the pasture on the opposite side of the road, and pretty oak and maple trees lined its banks. The schoolhouse was about six miles from the Glick farm, so, of course, Lizzie had to go with the school van again.

Lizzie always thought it would be so much nicer to be able to stay at school later in the evening and arrive earlier than the pupils, but it would have been too expensive for the school board to pay for all that extra transportation. Sometimes, when there was a special event, she would drive Bess and the buggy to school, but Mam didn’t like that too much, saying it was too far. Mam took good care of horses, always pitying them if they had to run too fast or too long.

When school started the last week of August, Lizzie was as excited as ever, only without quite as many sickening butterflies in her stomach as she had her first year. She had successfully taught her first year, loving every minute of it, so she had less qualms about the unknown this time around.

She couldn’t believe her good fortune, being the first teacher in a brand-new classroom. The walls were so smooth, and the windows were all square with new trim. There was a brand-new blackboard, closets, and even new desks that were actually fastened to the floor. Her own desk was not new, but it was a good secondhand one, large and not as high as her old wooden one at the Mennonite school.

There were a few more pupils this year, all Amish children from homes and farms spread throughout a large portion of Cameron County. Some of them drove their ponies or horses and buggies to school, but most of them came with a driver.

The pupils were as excited as she was on the first day, exclaiming about and admiring the finished new school. There were Kings, Beilers, Zooks, Stoltzfuses, and lots of other common Amish names. The children were all loving, none of them causing her too much grief or worry those first few weeks. At home, with all of the wedding planning, there was no rest for anyone, so school was actually a welcome reprieve from the madcap pace in the Glick household.

By late September, the wedding was still six weeks away, but Mam was a nervous wreck, Emma said. Lizzie agreed.

Lizzie was secretly pleased to hear Mam and Emma argue and get upset with each other. All her life, it had been those two working together, and Lizzie was the different one. Even Mandy made Mam happier than Lizzie did most of the time.

Even when they were little and Dat taught the three girls to read the Scriptures in German, Lizzie had upset Mam. Each Sunday morning, Dat read from the Scripture, Emma read the verse after his, and so on.

Reading the German language was a bit more difficult for Emma, so it had taken her longer to read a verse. German had always been easy for Lizzie, so she zipped through her verse. Dat smiled at her each time she finished. But as Mandy faltered through hers, Lizzie noticed Mam’s unhappy expression. Now what had she done wrong? Evidently something, because Mam’s eyebrows were drawn and her mouth stern.

On they read, with the exact same results—Dat smiled at Lizzie, then sighed impatiently if Emma missed a word, until Mam opened her mouth.

“Melvin, I can hardly stand it. Emma and Mandy are trying to read just as well as Lizzie. You need to have more patience with them. If Lizzie can read so much better than the others, why does she have to read at all? She knows everything there is to know about German.”

Dat had stared at Mam. Lizzie felt like running out of the room and never reading a word of German ever again. Her feelings were terribly hurt. She had always been proud of her German reading ability. Emma did lots and lots of other things so much better than she did, just not reading German.

That’s how Mam is, Lizzie thought. She always likes Emma so much better than me. I’m not going to talk to Mam for so long she’ll know she hurt my feelings.

They finished their session of German reading, and Dat told them they were free to do whatever they wanted. It was an in-between Sunday, meaning a day their district did not have church services. Old Order Amish have church every other Sunday. This is an old custom that allows ministers to visit other districts.

Emma and Mandy wandered into the kitchen for a snack, but Lizzie went straight up the stairs to her bedroom. She flung herself on the bed, stuck her face in her pillow, and pitied herself. She planned on crying, but the tears wouldn’t come, probably because she was more angry than hurt.

After a while she felt a bit silly so she got up, smoothed her dress, and wondered what she could do to worry Mam. She didn’t care what Emma said. Mam always took her side. Emma never did one thing wrong. Mam should be glad she has a daughter who can read German so well. If Lizzie was a boy, she’d probably be a preacher or a deacon, and then Mam would be so happy to hear her read German in church. Mam ought to be ashamed of herself.

Now, years later, Mam told Lizzie she just couldn’t understand what got into Emma, it was a fright how determined she was to have her own way. And Emma cried to Lizzie in sheer frustration because Mam put her foot down, saying there would be absolutely no more than 250 guests, the house was not big enough for more. Emma begged and pleaded, but Mam’s nostrils flared, her mouth was set, and that was that. Lizzie felt very important, being in the middle of Mam and Emma.

A wedding was a mess. Everyone was on pins and needles all the time. Lizzie told Mam this wasn’t right. When it was her turn to get married, she was going to run away and go to the lawyer or governor or whoever it is that marries you. Mam laughed at her, saying she’d have a hard time getting either of them to marry her.

Finally, the day of preparation—
risht dag
in Pennsylvania Dutch—arrived. Everyone was up at five o’clock, except for Mam who had been up since three o’clock to bake enough pumpkin pies to feed all of the relatives. Emma said that was too early. Now Mam would be too tired to enjoy the day. But Lizzie guessed that if she wanted to get up at three to bake pies, she could.

Relatives began to arrive very early that morning. The
risht leid
, or the four couples who made the chicken and filling, arrived first. There was lots of work involved in that process, and they had to start early to get the roasting chickens in the oven.

The
risht dag
was a jolly day, almost more fun than the day of the wedding, Lizzie thought. Everyone hustled and bustled, smiled and teased each other as they worked together. The farm was truly a beehive of activity.

There were so many old traditions to follow. Joshua and Emma and their bridal party cleaned the celery. An Amish wedding had celery in everything, Lizzie claimed, but Emma corrected her, saying only in the
roasht
and the stewed celery. Oh, yes, and in the afternoon whole stalks of celery to snack on were placed in tall vases and set on the tables.

“Why celery?” Lizzie asked, as she scrubbed yet another piece.

“Because over a hundred years ago, our ancestors served whatever was in the garden at the end of the season at their weddings. That’s why we have chicken filling, mashed potatoes, celery, and cole slaw. The cabbage, potatoes, and celery all come from the late harvest,” Joshua informed her proudly.

“They grew the chickens in the garden too, huh?” Lizzie cracked.

The aunts were in the kitchen, baking pies and cooking vanilla cornstarch pudding and tapioca pudding while they also chopped celery, baked rolls, and just fussed up a storm. What a day to remember, Lizzie thought, with everyone full of energy and enthusiasm because Emma was getting married.

After the celery was all washed and sorted, the whole group took a coffee break and snacked on all kinds of cookies and doughnuts. Lizzie was cold and wet from washing celery, so it felt good to be in the warm kitchen with all of Dat’s sisters—the aunts—and Doddy Glicks.

The men measured rooms and set up tables and benches. Since the wedding service would be held in the same room as the one in which the meal would later be served, they had to know the length of each bench, exactly which bench went where, and how many tables filled each room.

Everyone had a job. Usually, the older women of the church made the gravy, cooked the celery, and brewed the coffee, while the aunts bustled about setting out plates of doughnuts, cookies, and dishes of tapioca pudding.

Lizzie loved the whole whirl of this special day before the wedding. The kitchen sounded just like a henhouse when the chickens are afraid of an intruder and cackling madly. Mam’s face was so red Lizzie was afraid she’d have heart failure if she didn’t calm down. But then, this was her first daughter’s wedding, and she did have plenty of reason to be nervous and flushed, Lizzie decided.

Amid the hubbub, Emma flitted about, looking radiantly happy and excited. She was to finally have her big day, the one she so looked forward to her whole life. Lizzie couldn’t fully understand why Emma didn’t mind moving so far away, but then, she didn’t have to. She most certainly was not planning any future moves of her own.

The sun shone beautifully on the day of Emma’s wedding. Mam was so pleased to be blessed with a lovely day. Not too cold for November, she said, just a nice moderate day for a wedding. Dat smiled and smiled, hurrying about doing last-minute things in his white shirt and new black suit.

Lizzie wore the same new white cape and apron as Emma, because Lizzie was a
nehva-sitsa
, or Emma’s attendant. Joshua’s brother Ben sat with Lizzie on one side of the couple, while the other
nehva-sitsa
couple, Joshua’s sister Mary sat with Marvin on the other side. Lizzie had worried that Mandy would feel left out since she wasn’t one of Emma’s attendants.

“Don’t worry,” Mandy said. “I’ll be a
nehva-sitsa
for you.”

“I’m not getting married,” Lizzie said as she pinned her cape.

Emma, Lizzie, and Mary all wore identical blue dresses with white organdy capes and aprons and black coverings. Joshua, Ben, and Marvin wore new black suits and white shirts with black bow ties clipped to their shirt collars.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean,” Mandy said. “I see how you look for Stephen every Sunday at church, even though he’s still living up north with his uncle.”

“Be quiet, Mandy,” Lizzie said. She sat down on the bed so she could tie her shoes and hide her red cheeks. Mandy was right. She did check each Sunday to see if Stephen was attending church with his family that week. So far he hadn’t, but Lizzie was certain he would return sometime soon.

They all took a long time to get ready before the service. Lizzie’s hair was plastered down so close to her head it would take a severe windstorm to remove one hair from its place. Marvin told her she should always be so neat, but Lizzie felt like her hair was greased with lard, even though it was actually hair spray.

The wedding party entered the kitchen and were seated side by side where they would remain for the whole service like six stick men, Lizzie thought. Dat smiled and told them they looked very nice.

Then he looked at Mam, she looked at Dat, and all at once their smiles melted into little watery pools in their eyes. Dat blew his nose, tears running over. Mam turned away quickly, dabbing fiercely at her eyes. Lizzie felt her own emotion welling up, prickling her nose. But the relatives started to arrive and everyone started to smile again.

“Do your shoes fit?” Mommy Glick asked as she entered the kitchen. She bent down to take a peek at Emma’s shoes.

“Oh, yes!” Emma said, smiling at Mommy as they shook hands warmly.

“You have a lovely wedding day,” Mommy said, clasping Emma’s hand with both of her own.

Emma wore Mommy’s high-top shoes that laced over her ankles like figure skates. Ministers’ wives wore these shoes to church, and a bride traditionally wore them to be married as a sign of obedience and a humble spirit, virtues that are highly respected among the Amish. Joshua wore new shoes in the same style, which was really very touching, old-fashioned, and serious, Lizzie thought. Lizzie had to admit, she hoped someday she, too, could borrow Mommy Glick’s shoes.

The guests began arriving in earnest. Aunt Vera’s eyes swam with tears as she rushed in, wrapping her arms around Emma. Mam was so glad to see her sisters that she started openly crying, but that was all right because she didn’t see her sisters very often.

Mam had asked a bishop from Ohio to perform the marriage ceremony. She always said it seemed so unfinished the way it was done in Pennsylvania, with the couple seated as soon as they were pronounced man and wife. In Ohio, the bishop asked the congregation to stand while he said a prayer for the couple, which Mam had asked for and Dat agreed to.

The bishop preached an inspiring sermon in his Ohio accent, which was all very interesting. Emma looked so dark-haired, petite, and pretty as she stood soberly beside Joshua, saying her vows in a soft voice. He answered in a deeper masculine voice.

When they stood to pray, Lizzie cried. She had planned to stay dry-eyed and serene. But this was Emma, her own bossy big sister who was taking this very serious step, and everything seemed so holy and good and right that Lizzie cried until she had to get out her handkerchief and silently wipe her nose. When they all sat down again, she was so embarrassed by her tears that she looked at Ben’s shoes for a very long time.

After they sang the last swelling strain of the old wedding hymn, the festivities began. The new husband and wife with their
nehva-sitsa
went upstairs to change from their traditional, borrowed shoes into new ones they had bought for their wedding day. Emma, Lizzie, and Mary each took off their black church coverings and put on new white ones. Then came the best part of the whole day—sitting down at the corner table in the living room downstairs.