A Shining Light (17 page)

I chuckled. “I'm glad it worked.”

“Benjamin's family is moving to Main Amana.” She exhaled a deep breath.

“But why?” Brother Lutz was second only to the farm
Baas
in West Amana, a position of great responsibility.

“There is a need for another farm Baas in Main, and the elders believe Brother Lutz is best qualified to fill the position. He is pleased that he will have more responsibilities and be of greater service to the colonies. That means Benjamin will move, as well. I am sure they will be glad to have another worker at their flour mill.”

“But what if he asks to stay here in West? Would the elders let him?”

She shook her head. “Families stay together. He could never suggest such a thing. But that is not the worst of it.”

I didn't know how it could be any worse for her. Benjamin would be going to another village, and seeing him would be nearly impossible. Granted, they might be able to visit on an occasional Sunday afternoon, but the villages were several miles apart, and he'd have to walk.

I arched my brows. “What else has happened?”

“Benjamin spoke to my father and asked if he could seek the elders' permission to marry me. He wanted to gain their permission so that when he moved to Main, we could begin our year of separation.” Her lips drooped and another tear slipped down her cheek.

“Your father would not agree?”

She shook her head. “He said he would not agree to the marriage and Benjamin should not go to the elders. If he does, my father will object.”

“I'm sorry, Greta. I know this is very difficult for both you and Benjamin.” I wanted to offer my help, but there was nothing I could do. I now knew the pain of being separated from the man you loved, and my heart ached for Greta. Still, she could hang on to hope that her situation might change. I, however, could only pray that God would remove my feelings for Dirk. I grasped her hand as we continued on our way. “Maybe once your father has had an opportunity to see the pain this separation causes you, he will rethink his decision.”

She shook her head. “My father is a stubborn man. I don't think I could ever change his mind.”

“Then maybe God will do it for you. We must continue to pray that he will see Benjamin as a fine young man and have a change of heart.”

September 1890
Dirk

Lukas bounded into the shop, strands of brown curls matted to his forehead and a bit of perspiration shining on his nose. I looked up from my workbench, where I'd been working on new gutters for the general store, and greeted the boy.

“Looks like you've been running or the temperature has warmed considerably over the last hour.” The temperature had been fluctuating throughout the day, and I hadn't been outdoors since walking home from the Küche.

Though I enjoyed these early fall days when asters edged the walkways and gardens in our village and a few of the trees were starting to display varying shades of crimson and gold, today I'd skipped the midday lunch and remained inside to finish the gutters.

Lukas grinned and wiped his shirtsleeve across his forehead. “It is much warmer than earlier, and I ran from the doctor's office. I didn't want to be late.”

I chuckled and pointed to his pocket. “You should use your handkerchief instead of your sleeve, and I have told you that I will not worry unless you are more than a half hour late. I know you sometimes stop to see your Vater after school.”

His upper lip quivered. “Not very often.”

“There is no reason to be upset, Lukas.” I forced a smile. “It is gut that you want to see your Vater. I am pleased he wants to spend time with you.”

Even though I tried to hide my jealousy, the boy likely heard the resentment in my tone. Fred had gained the boy's affection with greater ease than I'd thought possible. Fred's ability to so easily win his son's trust troubled me. Each day, I prayed for the boy's protection.

Andrea had never shared all the details of her life with Fred, but I had heard enough to know the man had not been a good father to Lukas or a good husband to her. And though I understood it would be best for their family to reunite, my feelings for both the boy and his mother remained far too strong.

I had considered severing ties with Lukas—telling him we no longer needed him to help after school. I could sweep the shop and place my tools back in their proper places at the end of each day, but such dismissive behavior would only pain Lukas. Besides, I couldn't bear the thought of not seeing him each day.

“Want me to sweep the floor or take the trash to the barrel?” His voice bore a pleading sound that tore at my heart. He wanted to make everybody happy. A big job for such a little boy.

“Nein. I am tired of working on these gutters. Would you like to help me with a new cookie cutter pattern?”

The worried look I had detected in his eyes only moments earlier was immediately replaced with one of joy. “Is it a pattern Werner drew?”

“Ja, it is. It's a special star. He thought the sisters would like it for their Christmas baking.” I strode to the worktable and held up the pattern. “What do you think?”

Werner sat at a table near the rear of the room, but he perked to attention at the mention of his new design. “Tell the truth, Lukas. If you do not like it, I want to know. I can change it before Brother Dirk begins to make them.”

Lukas stepped forward and took the pattern from my hand. After moving it about and staring at it for several moments, he gave a firm nod. “I like it very much. I think the sisters will like it, too.” He leaned around me and looked at Werner. “I wish I could draw as good as you, Werner.”

Werner beamed at him. “God has given me this talent. Maybe He will give it to you, too.”

I tousled Lukas's curls. “We are all different and God gives each of us special abilities. Some of us can draw, some can work with tin, some can make shoes, some can work with animals, but all of us can serve God. As you become older, you will discover your gift and you can serve Him, too.”

Lukas settled on the high stool next to mine. “My father says there isn't any God.”

A chill rushed over me and the hair on my neck bristled. “Did he? And why would he say such a thing?”

“He asked me what I was learning in school. When I told him we study the Bible and learn about God, he said there is no God and I shouldn't believe what Brother Urbinger tells me or what I hear in prayer meetings.”

“And did you tell your Mutter what you have told me?”

He looked at me with solemn eyes. “Nein. I do not want to cause them to fight. My father might become angry with me if I tell her. He likes me to keep secrets.”

The boy's admission heightened my concern. I did not want to come between Lukas and his father, yet a father asking his son to keep secrets was not good. Especially if he was being told to keep them from his mother. Beyond telling his son there was no God, I wondered what other secrets Fred might be telling the boy. Did he not realize the added anxiety such a request would place on his son? I didn't want to condone the act, but maybe I could relieve a bit of Lukas's concern.

“Sometimes we all keep secrets. If you make a Christmas gift for your Mutter, you will want to keep it a secret so she will be surprised when you give it to her, ja?”

He nodded. “But Papa's secrets are different.” He leaned close and rested his head against my arm. “Today he told me that when he is strong enough, we will go to my grandfather's farm. He said it's a secret, but I know you won't tell.”

I smiled. “Your secret is safe with me.” After hesitating for a moment, I looked into his eyes. “You can trust your Mutter, too. I know she will always keep your secrets.”

I was not yet so old that I had forgotten the difficulty of keeping a secret. There had been times in my younger years when I thought I would explode if I could not tell at least one person a secret that had been entrusted to me. Fortunately, age and wisdom had helped me overcome that need. I had soon learned that all of my friends felt that same need, and soon the secret that had been for my ears alone resonated in the school yard.

He bobbed his head. “I know. When I told her about Papa's secret letters, she said she would not say a word, but I didn't want to tell her about visiting the farm.”

I wondered about the secret letters but did not ask. If Lukas wanted to tell me, he would. In truth, it would probably be better if I did not know what was going on within their small family.

After measuring and marking a piece of tin, I handed the tin snips to Lukas. “You can begin over here by cutting out the star.”

He curled his tongue between his lips and slowly began cutting the tin. Not wanting to ruin his concentration, I remained silent while he worked his way around the points. When he looked up at me, I nodded and motioned for him to continue. “You are doing a gut job. For sure, this will be a fine cookie cutter.”

Once he'd finished, he held up the piece of tin and carefully examined his work. “I went off the line. One point is uneven.” His lip quivered.

“No two people are alike and no two cookie cutters are exactly the same, either. You did a fine job and you should not be discouraged. I could not have done so well at your age.”

Lukas's eyes brightened. “You couldn't?”

“Nein. You should be very proud of your work. I do not know any boy your age who could cut tin with such fine precision.”

He squared his shoulders and pointed to another piece of tin. “Will you make the edges of the star from that piece?”

“Nein.
You
will cut the edges and the handle, but I will solder them. The straight lines will be much easier than the angle. I will help you use the foot shear.” I had already marked the piece that would form an edge for the cookie cutter. “There is enough time for you to cut it before we must clean the shop.”

Lukas hesitated and then looked at me. “My papa says we're going to be rich someday. Do you think that's true?”

“I do not know what is in the future for any of us, Lukas, but I know for sure I will never have lots of money or own my own land, but I still feel rich. I have gut friends, a warm house, plenty of food, and work that I enjoy. That is enough to make me rich.”

Lukas's thin eyebrows pinched together. “That's not the kind
of rich my papa was talking about. He says we're going to have lots of money.”

“Did he tell you where he was going to get all this money?”

The boy shook his head. “When I asked him, he said he would tell me when the time was right, but I don't know when that will be.” Worry creased his youthful forehead.

I gestured toward the piece of tin. “Go ahead and cut the strips.” I gently squeezed his shoulder. “Money is not something you need to worry about.”

My thoughts wandered while Lukas cut the tin. Fred seemed to be making plans of some sort, yet I could not imagine what they would be. How he would become rich overnight was beyond my comprehension. When he arrived, he told Andrea he had no money, and he had done nothing to increase his wealth while recuperating at the doctor's office. In his zeal to win the boy's affection and by thinking money would impress Lukas, Fred had likely woven a tale of lies. If not, he was keeping things from his wife.

Telling Lukas a story about being rich did not bother me much. However, Fred's disbelief in God concerned me a great deal. I worried he would attempt to undermine the boy's budding faith. Though I longed to speak with Andrea about my suspicions, I would not break my word to the boy.

In truth, speaking with Andrea was not an option. To be alone with her would prove much too difficult. Each day I asked God to remove this longing for her from my heart, but my feelings still remained strong. I had hoped that as time passed, I would forget the sound of her laughter and the tenderness of her touch. Instead, one look at her in the Küche and every remembrance of our times together rushed back like a flooding stream. Rather than talking to Andrea, I would do my best to be a positive influence upon her son. In the meantime, I would talk to Brother Urbinger. The
schoolteacher would immediately become aware of any changes in Lukas's outlook regarding his faith and God.

Once Lukas finished cutting the metal, he, Werner, and I joined forces to clean up the shop before the dinner bell rang to announce the evening meal. Lukas carried the last of the trash outdoors to the barrel as the bell tolled in the distance.

The three of us walked to the Küche together and waited near the men's door until Sister Erma flung open the doors. On cue, the men and women entered and walked to their tables. Once we had recited the before-dinner prayer, benches scraped on the wooden floors as we all sat down. Hoping for a glimpse of Sister Andrea, I glanced toward the doorway leading from the dining room into the Küche.

Instead of Andrea, Sister Greta stood framed between the two rooms. She met my gaze and gestured, but I was unsure what to make of her signal. She tipped her head as though she wanted to speak to me outdoors, but I could not leave the table, and she could not leave the Küche.

Uncertain what to do, I shrugged and hoped she would realize I had not understood what she wanted. Except for the clanging of silver on china, the only noises in the Küche were the sounds of banging pots and pans or the clatter of spoons scraping food into heavy bowls. Talking during mealtime was frowned upon, and since we were allotted only fifteen minutes to eat our meals, the elders seldom had to remind us to remain quiet. Besides, unless there was urgent work requiring our attention, we could visit for a short time after the meals.

When we were finished, all of us stood and recited the after-meal prayer. Lukas trotted toward the kitchen to visit with his mother, and I strode toward the men's door. I hadn't gone far when Lukas returned and tugged on my hand.

“Sister Greta would like to talk to you. She said she would meet you out near the chicken coop.”

“Thank you, Lukas.” He grinned and trotted back toward the kitchen while I exited out the men's door.

I had hoped to speak to Brother Urbinger, but it could wait until tomorrow. The schoolteacher enjoyed talking, and if I started a conversation with him, it could be a half hour or longer before I could break away. I didn't want to take a chance and leave Sister Greta waiting. She'd had enough disappointment to bear.

As I circled around, I caught sight of her. Instead of standing near the chicken coop, she'd moved to the edge of the garden and was pulling weeds from the flowering border of mums and asters.

“I did not know the Küche workers also had to weed the flower beds.” I smiled as I approached.

She sat back on her heels. Her lips curved in a strained smile. “Thank you for coming, Dirk. I know you are busy.”

I arched my brows. “Never am I too busy for a friend. You should know I am always pleased to visit with you, Greta.” I leaned against the chicken coop. “How can I help you?”

She stood and closed the few steps between us. “My Vater remains steadfast in his dislike of Benjamin. I thought my Vater would change his opinion once he saw how much I love and miss Benjamin—that he would relent and agree to our marriage—but it has made no difference.”

“Do you want me to speak with him? Do you think that would help? If so, I am willing to try.”

“Nein. He believes that I should set my mind on another man, and then I will realize Benjamin is an unsuitable prospect.”

I wasn't certain where this was going to lead, but the conversation had become uncomfortable. “Maybe that is a gut idea. If
your love for Benjamin remains steadfast, your Vater may accept that he has been wrong. Then perhaps he will grant permission.”

“That's what I have been thinking, too.” She inhaled a deep breath. “I am glad you agree.”

“What about August Murbach or Christoph Baum? They are both nice fellows. I think either one would please your Vater.”

She shook her head. “Brother August wants to remain single. His Mutter told Sister Erma.”

“Then what about Christoph? He is nice looking enough and a fine watchmaker, too.”

She frowned. “He has already asked the elders for permission to marry Sister Anna. Did you not know?”