A Time to Love (7 page)

"It's understandable. You've come so far," he told her seriously."Phoebe told me what you've gone through since you were injured. You're a brave woman, Jenny Miller."

"It doesn't take bravery to be in the path of a bomb."

"It takes bravery to go where you went, to tell people who don't always want to hear. To get up and start again when you're hurt so badly."

Jenny stared at him, not knowing what to say. "Thank you," she finally managed. "But really, what else can you do?"

"Some would sit and feel sorry for themselves."

She smiled wryly. "Been there. Done that."

"Not for very long." He might have said more but a middleaged Amish couple approached their table.

"Hello, Matthew, Annie."

"Amos, Esther, good to see you."

Matthew introduced Jenny. "We heard you were visiting your grandmother," said Esther.

The woman's eyes were bright with curiosity as she scanned Jenny, her gaze going to her cane. "The women in the quilting circle hope you'll join your grandmother this week."

"Thank you for the invitation," Jenny said politely.

Amos chatted with Matthew for a moment about the weather and the farm. Esther patted Annie's head and smiled as she bent to see what the child was coloring.

They'd barely left when another couple stopped by, then two women the age of Jenny's grandmother. While she sensed their curiosity, their innate reserve and courtesy prevented them from prying.

"People want to meet you, but they won't intrude," Matthew told her.

She'd been reluctant to "go out in the world" and asked herself if she had come here to her grandmother's home to hide.

This morning, she'd ventured out and the experience hadn't been painful at all.

The midday rush at the restaurant eased. They were left alone to finish their meal.

Pushing back her plate, Jenny sighed. "I ate so much."

"
Daedi,
wook! I ate it awl!"

"Why, sure and you did," he said, nodding approvingly. "I guess you don't have room for ice cream now, do you?"

"Silwy
Daedi!"
she told him, giggling.

Matthew turned to Jenny. "And you? Are you too full for dessert?"

"Silly
Daedi!"
she laughed, struggling to get up with them to get soft-serve ice cream from the dessert buffet.

They fell into an easy routine. Matthew came for Jenny for the occasional speech-therapy appointments, for dinner with him and his children, for errands in town. They talked as they had so many years ago, about so many things.

With the maturity of years, Jenny could see past the attraction she'd once had to the man Matthew had become. He worked hard, but loved the work he did, loved his children and enjoyed this time of year when he had a little more time for them.

Her visit was an eye opener. She'd had no idea how much he did for her grandmother. It went beyond stopping to see if she needed something from town. After her grandfather had died, Phoebe had written Jenny that she thought she might sell the farm and get a smaller place. But a few months later, she wrote that Matthew wanted to lease some of the land to raise more crops.

Jenny knew where the division of the land had once been, and although it was winter and there were no crops planted, it appeared to her that the section from her grandparents' farm hadn't been planted in a long time.

One day, when they were driving past it, she asked him what was planted there during the growing season. He shrugged and said he hadn't had time to do much with it the last few years and changed the subject.

Jenny knew the Amish took care of their own, but she hadn't realized it hit so close to home.

Watching as benches were unloaded and carried into her grandmother's home, Jenny was reminded of the saying, "If Mohammed will not go to the mountain, then the mountain must come to Mohammed."

In the time she'd been here she'd avoided attending religious services. She'd hidden out at first, not comfortable being around anyone the way she looked. But she'd been doing physical and speech therapy, gotten out into town with Matthew and Annie and her grandmother, and felt more at ease.

Now all that was being tested, right here on what she'd started thinking of as her "home turf."

The Amish didn't have a formal church building. Instead, they met every other Sunday in a member's home. Since most people didn't have seating for dozens, sometimes a hundred or so parishioners, a carriage full of benches made the rounds for services.

Her grandmother came to stand next to Jenny as she watched the unloading.

"How often does everyone come to your house?"

"Usually once a year." Phoebe put her arm around Jenny's waist and squeezed her. "You don't have to attend if you don't wish. Everyone knows you're visiting and you're not a member. Besides, you're recovering."

"But I really liked attending when I visited years ago." Jenny chewed on her fingernail.

"Ya, I know." Phoebe held the door so another bench could be carried inside. "Whatever you decide will be fine. There's certainly no reason you can't stay in your room if you wish. Everyone will understand."

"As I remember, the services are pretty long."

Phoebe nodded. "Sometimes three hours. Sitting so long might aggravate your back and hip. If you attend, I'm sure no one will mind if you get up and move about as you need to. After all, children attend, and while they're usually wellbehaved, they are, after all, children."

"Is there anything I can do?"

Phoebe shook her head. "There will be plenty of help." She glanced around her kitchen. "And plenty of food for the light meal afterward."

"Meal? You have to feed all those people?" She hadn't remembered the meal.

"Some of the women are bringing bread, but yes, we'll be feeding everyone a light meal. What do you do after church?"

"Sometimes my church would have potluck suppers," Jenny said absently. "Everyone brings something."

"It's a big expense, but it's just once a year or so," Phoebe said.

Jenny looked down at her simple dove-gray turtleneck sweater and matching calf-length skirt. "Am I dressed all right?"

Phoebe patted her cheek. "You look very nice. No one will expect to see you in Amish dress. Everyone knows you're my granddaughter who's visiting. You've already met some of them."

So many buggies began arriving. Just as her grandmother had told her, there was help. Lots of help.

Several men and boys helped put horses in the barn. Extra food was carried into the house. Chairs were brought for older members who needed more support than the backless wooden benches. Matthew came with his children and Hannah. Men sat in one room, the women and children in another.

The service started just after 8 a.m. with a sermon. Religion was such a part of everyday life, it was no surprise to Jenny that services would be in the home. Or that the ministers weren't formally trained but were, instead, average men like John from the community. To her surprise, the German she'd studied in college came back in bits and pieces as she listened to the service conducted in the Pennsylvania Deitsch dialect and the Scriptures read in High German.

In his simple sermon John talked about David and Goliath and how David never called Goliath a giant, he simply went after his adversary and won. Jenny thought about how her own problems seemed so big, so overwhelming. She wondered what would happen if she thought of them as just a challenge, as David had.

The songs were Jenny's favorite. Her hip ached, but just as she was about to go into her bedroom where she could ease it with some movement, the singing began.

There was no musical accompaniment and only the words were printed in the hymnal. Jenny listened but didn't participate as the attendees sang from memory. Generations had passed the songs down, one to the next.

Something was so simple, so pure, about hearing songs of praise to God. Afterward the down-to-earth message from Scripture resonated in her heart.
Faith here is so basic,
she thought, a little awed as she surreptitiously looked around at the congregation. For them, home was not only where you were supposed to practice what you believed—you had church there as well.

Her father had searched for a place to call his spiritual home after he left the Amish, Jenny knew, and so she'd attended many churches with her parents. None had affected her as much as this.

Peace fell over her like a gentle snowfall.

Afterward, the benches were turned into tables and a light lunch was served. Women gathered in the kitchen to organize the food. Children played games but kept an eye open for when goodies would be put out. The men stood outside in the mild winter air talking about farming and business.

Matthew found Jenny standing outside, wrapped in her coat.

"Hello, neighbor."

She turned. "Hello."

"Why are you standing out here?"

Hugging herself for warmth, Jenny smiled. "It feels good after being inside with so many people all morning."

Matthew watched her glance wistfully over her shoulder."Now you're acting as if you wish you were inside."

"I felt in the way in the kitchen." She glared at the cane in her hand.

"It is just a tool to help you," he said. "Don't be angry at the help it gives. Be grateful for it now and be grateful when you can give it up."

"Soon," she told him fervently. "I want it to be soon."

"I know."

Two words from a Plain man spoken with such understanding,
she thought, feeling touched.

"What did you think of the service?" he asked as he leaned on the railing, watching the children play in the snow.

"Very spiritual," she said. "But this wasn't my first, remember?"

He turned to look at her. "
Ya,
I do remember. You seemed very interested in the Plain life when you were here those summers."

"I was."

"But you flew away."

"That's—an unusual way to look at it. I had to leave. Summer was over."

"Spring is not so far away now." He scanned the sky, the nearby trees.

She shivered. "I hope so."

"Will you fly away again soon, Jenny? Is your time here nearly over?"

"Time has been on my mind," she said slowly. As he'd said, winter was nearly over. "To every thing there is a season," she whispered, remembering Ecclesiastes as she stared out at the snow. "And a time to every purpose under the heaven."

Her fingers tightened on her cane. "It's been my time to heal here in this place." She fell silent.

"Jenny?"

When she wouldn't meet his eyes, he lifted her chin with his hand. "Why do you grow sad?"

She bit her lip and fought tears. "Long—story."

Just then a man left the house. He frowned when he saw Matthew's hand on Jenny's face. They moved apart so that the man, a church elder, could proceed down the steps.

When Jenny shivered again Matthew opened the door."Inside, before you freeze into—it was a Popsicle, was it not?" He was reminding her of the day he'd found her sitting on the road, unable to get up.

Nodding, she walked inside. He didn't follow her, going instead to the barn. She looked out the window after him and found the church elder , looking at her.