The Love Letters (19 page)

A
s planned, Vernon Siegrist arrived to drive Marlena and her grandmother at six o'clock the next morning, just as the sky was brightening. Robins warbled loudly in the tree near the east side of the house, welcoming daybreak, and in the distance, a neighbor's rooster crowed repeatedly. Mammi mentioned to Marlena as they exited by way of the back door that today's washing would have to wait till tomorrow. Caught up as she was with solemn thoughts, Marlena hadn't even considered the weekly chore so ingrained in their routine.

After their initial hellos to Vernon, they settled in for the nearly two-hour drive, no one speaking much. Marlena felt tired from her restless night and the early rising. Angela Rose, however, was wide-awake and babbling in her soft, incoherent language. Marlena had remembered to tuck some small toys and rattles into the diaper bag Aunt Becky had so kindly brought. Wanting to look presentable for the funeral, she hoped her black dress and apron wouldn't be too wrinkled
by the time they pulled into the parking lot at the white clapboard meetinghouse. She recalled the first time she'd gone to church there with her parents. In all truth, she'd wanted to stay in bed and fake illness that morning, uncomfortable about leaving behind the Old Order church where she'd grown up, knowing she would miss the familiarity of the service and the flock of worshipers, most of whom were related to Marlena and her immediate family.
And I was missing Nat, too . . . same as now.

Next to the van window, Mammi looked preoccupied, staring out at the Millers' vast apple orchard. These were the same Amish folk who'd had a roadside vegetable stand ever since Marlena had started coming to visit with her parents. She and Luella had sometimes assisted with English tourists—Marlena more so than Luella—helping fun-loving Rosanna and her family.

As for Luella, she had struck up a friendship with an English girl farther down the road—Olive Hendrickson, one year older.
“
We're better suited,”
Luella had told Marlena, smelling of cigarette smoke. Thinking about it now, Marlena was fairly sure Dat and Mamma had known little of Olive and Luella's summertime alliance, or the forbidden things Olive seemed too eager to introduce to an Amish girl on the church fence, if not hanging off the other side.

Yet surely Luella was much more than her shallow interests during
Rumschpringe
. Marlena wondered how her sister's becoming a mother had affected her.
Did she ever yearn for her Plain family . . . including me?

Marlena hoped so with all of her heart on this, Luella's funeral day. She stared at the quilt-lined wicker basket on the floor of the van between herself and Mammi. She'd brought
it along in case Angela got tired of being held during the trip. It had crossed her mind to take it to church yesterday, too, for in the car, but Mammi had said it wasn't necessary. And as it turned out, Mammi was quite right.

Angela Rose represents a part of Luella,
Marlena thought while holding Angela on her lap. Again she pondered yesterday's sermon. After the noon meal with Mammi Janice, while Angela napped, she'd taken time to reread the minister's text in the Psalms, even memorizing it.

She reached over to lightly touch Mammi's arm. “What did Dawdi Tim think 'bout churches sendin' out missionaries?” She recalled yesterday's prayer following the sermon. More than a dozen teenagers had gone forward to receive the pastor's blessing prior to leaving to help with vacation Bible school in Philadelphia and New York City churches.

“Why do you ask?” Mammi smiled a little. “Your parents' church instructs young folk that way.”

Marlena nodded. A missionary focus was one of the hallmarks of the Beachy Amish-Mennonites, along with permitting electricity and holding Sunday school and home Bible studies. “My old church doesn't evangelize at all,” she said.

Mammi folded her hands in her lap. “Well, I can tell you that we attempt to follow the Lord's command to go into every corner of the world and share the Gospel.” Mammi turned back to the window, adding, “Your Dawdi was all for spreadin' God's love around.”

Marlena pondered her grandmother's words.
Why wouldn't Nat, and everyone who believes in Christ, want to do the same?

She realized suddenly that she was questioning her old church's traditional beliefs—something the
Ordnung
considered wrong. On this sorrowful day, Marlena did not have the
emotional strength to wrestle with such serious thoughts. She must let them rest.

The day had warmed considerably by the time the van pulled into the lot for the meetinghouse. They had arrived earlier than Marlena expected, and she looked around for her parents' horse and buggy, taking note of the carriages already parked at the hitching posts along the back end of the parking area.

“I don't see them yet, do you?” she asked Mammi.

“We'll just wait here.” Mammi looked over at Angela Rose, who was sucking her fist. “Our little one's getting hungry.”

Marlena wondered where she and the baby might sit during the service. Certainly not up front with her parents and baptized family members, even though it was acceptable in this church to do so for a funeral. And she wouldn't hand off Angela Rose to Mammi, either. That wouldn't be fair. Not at all keen on funerals, she had already decided to take up her responsibility for her niece and see this day through. Like Mammi had said, Angela Rose was their little one, for now.
My main responsibility.

A few minutes later, she saw the old familiar road horse, Dixie, and the white-top family carriage her father was still driving, evidently resisting the move toward cars that some members now arriving had already made. Marlena's younger sisters, Katie and Rachel Ann, were sitting in the back of the buggy, facing out, and Amos and Yonnie were in the second bench seat, behind their parents. Like Marlena's, her sisters' Beachy head coverings were cup-shaped, with darts on each side. “Look, Mammi, the family's here,” Marlena said softly.
Seeing all of them now, so dear, compounded her sorrow, bringing it all back.

Her grandmother reached into her pocketbook and brought out a hankie.
We're going to need each other on this difficult day,
Marlena thought, glad they'd arrived early enough to visit with family before going inside. She fought back a sick feeling of anxiety as she looked again at the meetinghouse that had become her parents' church . . . and hers, for now.
Till I can finally join Nat's.

“I'm really dreadin' this,” she whispered before she and Mammi gathered up the baby's things to exit the van.

“My dear girl, I can't imagine losin' a sister at your age.” Mammi gave her a sad smile and reached for her hand. “I'll keep you in my prayers all day long.”

She felt a surge of guilt. “I don't mean to be selfish, Mammi.”

“Now, now—it's normal to feel this way. I understand.”

She thanked her, aware that her parents were getting out of their carriage, followed by her sisters and, last, her gangly teenage brothers. “Let's go and greet them,” Marlena said, reaching for the diaper bag and handing it to Mammi, who had gotten out of the van with some assistance from their driver. Marlena scooted across the seat and carefully stepped down with Angela Rose, glad for Vernon's hovering.

The first thing she noticed about her mother was how very pale she looked. Was it the black clothing? Her sisters looked washed out, too, as they rushed to hug her without saying a word. Eight-year-old Rachel Ann clung to Marlena, then touched Angela Rose's head, making over her.
No one looks rosy in black,
thought Marlena, realizing her grandmother also was noticeably pale.

“Can I hold Luella's baby?” eleven-year-old Katie asked, moving in to kiss Angela's cheek. “She's so cute.”

Angela reached up and grabbed Katie's white cap string, providing a bit of humorous relief for them all, including eighteen-year-old Amos, whose blue eyes looked bloodshot and swollen. Their other brother, Yonnie, just fourteen last month, stood back away from his sisters, flanking Amos with his arms folded, even though he eyed the baby curiously.
Not as interested as my sisters,
Marlena thought, sizing up her brothers.
Yet Angela Rose is all we have left of Luella
.

She relinquished the baby to Katie and slipped in next to her mother, refusing to cry, even though it was all she could do to keep from it. “How are ya holdin' up, Mamma?”

Her mother looked away for a moment, her eyes red. “I never thought we'd be having a funeral for one of our children. Never thought Luella would pass away before your father and me.” She sighed softly. “Thought she had more time, ya know.”

“
Jah
, 'tis awful hard.” Marlena reached around her mother's shoulders.

“But God is sovereign, and we'll cling to His will today and for always.” Mamma's words were resolute, but her chin quivered.

More buggies and a few cars were pulling into the lot. And, talking with Mamma, Marlena realized how very much she missed her family, even though she hadn't been in Brownstown long. Time had shifted with Luella's passing, changing everything.

Katie was touching Angela's cheek and whispering to her, but Mamma kept looking over at them and finally said she simply had to get her hands on her grandbaby. Stepping near, she took Angela Rose from Katie and kissed her little head.
Marlena struggled with tears as she observed the dear way Mamma cuddled Angela Rose.

“How long will ya stay afterward?” Mamma turned to ask Mammi Janice. “My sisters-in-law and other womenfolk have prepared a big meal to serve in the church basement for the extended family. I hope you'll stay around for it after the burial.”

Her grandmother looked Marlena's way and nodded. “We'll let our driver know.” Mammi glanced over her shoulder, and Marlena knew she wanted her to be the one to tell Vernon, who was still sitting in the van, fanning himself.

Marlena motioned for her brother Amos to go with her. “Mamma hopes we'll stay for the funeral dinner,” she said, making small talk.

“
Jah
, a
gut
idea,” he said quietly. “I think she wants to talk to you 'bout something.”

“Oh?”

Amos shook his head and smiled faintly. “Don't ask me what. Might be something 'bout Gordon's parents. I hear his aunt has been in touch with Mamma.”

“All right.” She reached the van with Amos and politely told Vernon when to return.

“Yous just take your time, won't ya?” Vernon nodded as he spoke. “A daughter shouldn't die before her parents, that's for sure. Just be a comfort to each other and lean on the dear Lord. He'll get ya through.”

Marlena thanked Vernon and assumed he might drive somewhere and settle into a restaurant with air conditioning, perhaps, and have something to eat. It was just too hot to sit out here, even under the row of shade trees along the north side of the parking lot. “We'll see you later.
Denki
ever so much!”