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Authors: Kelly Long

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BOOK: Threads of Grace
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On the other hand, maybe she should befriend the girl instead of being jealous of her.

Grace resolved to talk to Kate before church Meeting. Neither Seth’s past nor her own should control the way she lived in the present.

Later, as they were sitting down to breakfast, Alice came into the kitchen wearing a wild pink hat and carrying her Pink Lady sales bag. “Well,” Alice said, “I wonder if someone might accompany me to church in town?” The flowers on her hat bobbed in time to her words. “I noticed it the other day. White, and sits on a corner?”

Grace was a bit disappointed. She could have used Alice’s support, because she never knew how long Abel would sit still for the Meeting. Sometimes he could make it through the whole two hours, but there were other times when she had to take him out so that he could walk around or do something quietly. The community never called any attention to their comings and goings, but it still sometimes bothered Grace. And Violet could be no help, as she was meant to sit in a separate section with the other unmarried girls.

Seth came close to her and spoke in a low voice while she washed dishes at the sink. “What do you think about me going with Alice?”

Grace said, “Well, it’s a church, and life is about a relationship with God, not any certain religion. You go on. We’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Seth said. He offered an arm to Grace and then to Alice, who took it with a charmed smile.

 

 

 

A
fter Seth dropped them off, Grace steered Abel into the Zooks’ home, hosts of the church Meeting that week. She was glad she did not encounter Kate Zook right off. At prayer during the week, she had felt a definite nudging, a sense of calling to pursue a relationship with the girl. To try to help her somehow.

At first there was the normal hubbub and chattering. Grace told Abel to find a quiet place on the end of the bench so they could slip out if necessary. He took her bag and sat down. She saw him begin to root through the bag, already looking for pretzels or something to snack on. His anxious eyes scanned the crowd.
Large groups were difficult for Abel, no matter how supportive the people were.

Grace began to walk among the benches, nodding briefly to women here and there. Then finally she saw Kate—coming right toward her. The girl’s green eyes seemed alight with a flame. She certainly was beautiful, Grace thought again, but there was a malicious intent to those pretty eyes.

“Where is your husband?” Kate asked.

Grace inhaled a deep, steadying breath and prayed that God would give her the words to say. She motioned the girl over into a corner. “Kate, I want to tell you something.”

“Having marriage problems and need some advice?” Kate asked.

Grace smiled and shook her head. “No. I want to tell you about my husband sometime.”

“Oh, I already know all about Seth,” Kate said.

“No. I mean my first husband.” With that one sentence, Grace had Kate’s undivided attention. Half the people in the community wanted to know what had happened with her first husband. “I have never revealed any major details,” she said.

“Why would you want to tell me?”

“Because,” Grace said, “you know how things get around. I’d like to lay to rest some of the rumors I’ve heard about myself. And my sister, Violet, is about your age. She could use a friend. I thought you might come over and help me quilt one day next week. I’m working on a new quilt for Seth.”

“Oh, well, if it’s for Seth—surely.”

Grace did not miss the girl’s sarcastic attitude, but she didn’t
mind. She felt driven to offer this strange girl a peace that she did not necessarily feel herself.

Kate walked away and Grace joined Abel on the bench.

She wondered how Seth was faring.

 

 

 

S
eth drove his buggy up behind a long line of cars at the small white church. He had never been inside but had often thought it pretty, with its white clapboard and colorful borders of flowers.

“Come on.” Alice nudged him. “Let’s go in.”

Seth was not used to feeling self-conscious, but he felt it now—an
Amisch
man usually did not go to another service. But Grace was right. It was a church just the same. So he followed as Alice walked up the stone steps to the double doors.

Inside, the church smelled of fresh beeswax. Alice went around distributing her Pink Lady brochures to some friends she’d made in town. He saw Viv, not realizing that this was where she worshipped.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Passing through.”

He crossed his arms in front of his chest, trying to hide his suspenders, as the other men wore suits and ties.

Viv patted his arm. “Well, I’m glad to have you. Pastor O’Reilly always gives a great sermon.”

“Gut,”
Seth answered.

Alice led them up the aisle to the middle pews. He sat down and stared forward. There was a large cross on the wall. A choir
was singing softly in the background—a small choir with pleasant voices, accompanied by an organ. Seth enjoyed the music, even though his people had no musical instruments in their worship.

Alice leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Try to relax and get some meaning out of this for your life. You never know what you might learn in a strange environment.”

There were hymns and some prayers, and then the choir sang again. Finally Pastor O’Reilly, a rotund man with a balding head, went to the pulpit, opened a small Bible, and began to read:

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Seth knew the verses, but he had never heard anyone talk about them in the way that Pastor O’Reilly began to do.

“The key word in these verses is
love
,” Pastor O’Reilly said. He smiled out at the congregation. “The love of God. The love of God is eternal, and it is fierce in power. It gives us hope when loved ones die, that although they are not present in body, we are still connected to them through this love.”

 

 

 

A
lice felt her throat tighten up. She didn’t want to hear the pastor’s words, but they went right to her soul. Did God have to bring her hundreds of miles from home to tell her something?
Maybe she hadn’t been willing to listen to Him in the past. Or maybe the distractions of life and death and grief just got in the way.

She ducked her head and dabbed at her eyes with a lavender hankie. If she really believed that she and Bud were still connected somehow, she might not be as afraid on her own, or as lonely. She looked back up at the pastor and then at the cross. What was it the Bible said about Jesus? “
He was a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief
.” She hadn’t thought of that verse in years. Maybe that was the trick, to make grief’s acquaintance, become friends with it even.

Suddenly the prospect of being alone didn’t seem so awful. It seemed, well, like a chance to grow.

 

 

 

A
s Seth listened to the man’s words, he couldn’t help but think about the apparent separation between him and Grace. Was God promising that nothing could separate them through Christ?

Seth took a leap of faith and began to pray silently for his marriage. He prayed that God would give him the wisdom and the maturity to be the kind of husband Grace needed. He prayed for Grace, that God would heal her and give her peace. He prayed for Lilly and Jacob. If what Pastor O’Reilly said was true, then nothing could separate Lilly from the baby she had lost.

It was a thought to share with people back home.

The service went on with various phrases and responses. Seth understood this. He knew what it was to respond to an affirmation or exhortation from the bishop or deacons. But during the
songs, he just listened, taking in the words and the music and the beauty of it all.

Afterward, as they milled outside, Alice looked up at him. “What did you think of your first
Englisch
service?”

“I thought it was good, but I thought the communion was weird,” he said. “What were those little white circles?”

She laughed and patted him on the arm. “I’ll tell you in the buggy.”

CHAPTER 39

T
obias Beiler waited until the procession of buggies had lined up and everyone was inside the great barn, then he loped off through the cornfield to the Wyse home. He’d saved a chicken bone from his supper the night before. Once the dog was pacified, it was nothing to pick the lock on the back door again.

He made his way to the master bedroom and eased open the door, feeling a rush of desire at being so near where she slept each night. In the first bureau drawer he found men’s clothes, neatly folded. Impatiently he pushed them aside and moved down to the next drawer.

There he found Grace’s handkerchiefs. He caught up a handful and pulled them to his face.

“Soon, my sweet,” he whispered.

 

 

 

B
ishop Loftus had a fire in his eye about something. It was very rare that the little man lectured the community or took them to task. But as he began to speak in a stern voice, it was apparent that there was an issue to be addressed.

“I’d like to talk to you today,” he began, “about something common to all of us, and yet uncommon to some of us. I’d like to talk to you about water.”

There was a general mumbling of interest as the bishop continued.

“The Lord baptized with water. Jesus called Himself the living water. But it has come to my attention that there is another body of water in our community in which the people have been indulging, and I’m afraid I must take offense.”

Suddenly Grace knew what he was going to say. She glanced, as did everyone, at Emily Mast and her young husband, Peter. They had bought an
Englisch
home that had an in-ground swimming pool. All the teenagers loved to go there and were wearing bathing suits. The bishop must’ve gotten wind of it.

Bishop Loftus continued, “I don’t mind wading in the creek, so long as you’re in some clothes, and I don’t mind swimming in the bathtub on a Saturday night.” By now the people were quietly murmuring, shuffling. “But I’m afraid I do mind a swimming pool. It’s a temptation for our youth, so if any of you have a swimming pool at your disposal, might I suggest that in the next week you plow over it and turn it into a late field of corn and stop this nonsense. Thank you.”

And that, Grace knew, would be the end of the in-ground swimming pool.

 

 

 

I
’m glad I went with you this morning,” Seth said to Alice. “But I’m also glad we’ll be back in time for gathering.”

“What’s gathering?” Alice said.

“After Sunday Meeting we relax and eat some good food and play volleyball,” he explained.

“Volleyball? You think these legs can play volleyball?” She showed him a rather sleek ankle in nylons.

“Well, maybe.” Seth grinned and the two laughed together.

“I like you, Pretty Boy,” Alice said.

“Thank you, ma’am. I like you too.” He helped Alice down from the buggy, scanning the crowd. Abel sat off by himself in the crook of an apple tree. He knew the boy didn’t especially love crowds, so the tree was probably giving him solace. When he found Grace, she was sitting with Kate Zook. He approached the table, and Kate got up to go. For once, she passed him without comment.

He put one leg over the bench seat and sat down. “Hiya, what was that about?”

“Oh, woman talk. You wouldn’t be interested.” Grace smiled.

“I’m interested in anything that has to do with you.”

“That’s the way to greet a woman,” Alice announced behind them. “Now, where do I get the food?”

“Right over there.” Seth pointed to a table lined up with various good-looking casseroles and hardy bowls.

Alice went off, her Pink Lady bag still over her arm.

“I’m glad you invited her,” Seth said. “I think she’ll find it easy to be accepted among these women. They know she’s newly widowed, and they’ll be kind to her.”

“You do realize that she’s going to give Pink Lady books to everyone?” Grace asked.

Seth smiled at her. “Then maybe we’ll have some better-looking and -smelling
Amisch
people.”

Grace laughed. “You’re impossible.”

 

 

 

S
eth watched Grace’s eyes following Abel over at the apple tree. “Abel goes off by himself so much. It’s the crowd, you know. And he likes to climb the tree to feel the pressure of the limbs against him. I read about it once. It’s called deep pressure, and it’s something that autistic people often find calming.”

“Well, if it comforts him, then that’s good.”

He felt her eyes on him. “Seth, you are so good about understanding Abel. You’re an excellent father.”

He leaned across the table and drew her fingers to his lips. “And you are the best mother I know.” Then he let her go and grinned. “I’m going to go get some food. Do you want anything else?”

BOOK: Threads of Grace
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