An Amish Kitchen, page 15
“It’s burned.” Her mother studied the pie. “And something’s wrong with the crust.”
“I know.” Hannah wondered if her mother enjoyed holding back the recipe and letting her guess at her mammi’s secret. “But I tried my best. Someday I’ll get it right.”
“I know why it came out wrong.”
“Why?” Hannah raised her eyebrows, hoping her mother would finally give her the recipe.
“Because you’re still sinning, even though you were warned.”
“What?”
“I saw you in the apple orchard.” Her mother pointed toward the window. “I saw you walking with Stephen. You were told to avoid situations where you’re together without a chaperone, but you both have continued to sin.” She wagged a finger at her. “That’s why your pie didn’t come out right. If you were pure of heart, then your pie would be just as appeditlich as Mammi’s.”
Hannah stared at her mother in shock. “No, Mamm. That’s not how God works.”
“Yes, it is, and you know it.”
“No.” Hannah took a deep breath to calm her temper. “We have the cross to cover our sins. We don’t have problems or burnt pies because of sin. We have problems because we’re human, and we need God to help us. But He doesn’t punish us for sinning. He forgives us because He sent us Jesus.” She pointed toward the pie. “The recipe is going to turn out right eventually, when I figure it out. But walking with my friend Stephen isn’t sinful, and it has nothing to do with my botched pie.”
“Watch your tone with me, Hannah Mary.” Her mamm’s lower lip trembled slightly, and she turned toward the door. “I’m going to go sit with your daed.”
Hannah rubbed her temple where a headache brewed. Although she felt relief for standing up to her mother, she hoped that her mother would believe her words and stop punishing her for spending time with Stephen.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
HANNAH STEPPED INTO HER PARENTS’ HOUSE A WEEK later, expecting to find her father sitting in his favorite chair reading. Her mother was visiting a friend at the farm next door. She found the family room empty, and an eerie feeling tingled down her spine.
“Daed?” She stood in the doorway to their bedroom and saw her father lying in bed. “Daed, are you okay?”
His answer was more garbled than usual, as if he had a mouthful of marbles.
Hannah gasped and rushed to his bedside. “Daed? Was iss letz?”
Her father stared at her with his bushy eyebrows pinched together as if she were speaking a foreign language.
“Do you understand me?” She spoke slowly, enunciating each word.
He continued to stare at her with a blank expression, and her heart thudded in her chest.
“Ach, no.” She bit her lower lip to fight off her threatening tears. “I’ll be right back, Daed. I’m going to get help.”
She rushed outside and found Stephen wiping his hands on a rag as he stepped out of the barn. “Stephen! I need help!”
He dropped the rag and ran to her. “What’s wrong?”
“My daed!” She pointed toward the door. “I think he’s had another stroke. He’s in bed and can’t talk.”
“You go sit with him. I’ll call an ambulance and also call Andrew.”
“Okay.” She wrung her hands and looked up at the gray clouds threatening to drench them at any moment. “My mamm should be home soon. She’s been gone over an hour.”
“Go.” He nudged her toward the house. “I’ll take care of the calls.”
“Danki.” Hannah hurried back to the bedroom and pulled a chair up to her father’s side. “It’s going to be okay.” She wondered if her father could understand her words. The tears she’d been holding back now spilled over, down her cheeks and onto her dress.
Hannah prayed for God to heal him. She looked out the window at the dark clouds that seemed to mirror her emotions. Why couldn’t she save her father? And then the answer hit her— she wasn’t in control of her earthly father; her heavenly Father was in control of everything. She needed to give her worries and her fears over to God and let Him guide her life and the lives of her family members.
“I understand, Lord.” She whispered the prayer. “Help me learn to let You take the reins and guide our lives.”
She heard the back door slam downstairs and her mother’s heavy footfalls. “Hannah!” Her mother rushed into the bedroom. “Stephen said your daed had another stroke?”
“I think he did.” Hannah moved away from the bed, and her mother dropped into the chair and leaned over her father.
“Ach, Saul.” Tears streaked her mother’s full cheeks. “I thought you were sleeping when I left this morning. I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay, Mamm.” Hannah touched her shoulder. “God is in control.”
A siren blasted outside the window.
“The ambulance is here. I’ll go meet them.” Hannah hurried out to the kitchen just as Stephen led the EMTs into the house. “He’s in the bedroom.” She pointed toward the room.
Stephen touched her shoulder. “Stay here with me. They’ll need to look him over before they take him to the hospital.”
“Okay.” She wiped her cheeks. “My mamm is really upset.”
“I know. She started crying when I told her. Your bruder is going to meet us at the hospital.”
“Gut.” She lowered herself onto a kitchen chair and silently prayed for her father while the heavy moments passed between them.
Soon the EMTs wheeled her father out on a gurney. His skin was the shade of snow, and his normally bright brown eyes were dull like mud. She gnawed her lower lip and prayed anew for his health. She also begged for strength for her mother, who trailed along behind the gurney with tears trickling down her cheeks.
Hannah and Stephen followed the EMTs and her mother out to the driveway and stood in silence while her father was loaded into the back of the ambulance. Hannah started to walk toward the ambulance, but her mother took her arm.
“I’ll ride with him.” Her mother hoisted a bag up onto her shoulder.
“Oh.” Hannah nodded, knowing she needed to yield to her mother. “Of course. I’ll call Curt for a ride.”
“Andrew called Curt to drive him and Anna Ruth to the hospital. I’ll take you to the hospital in the buggy.” Stephen motioned toward the barn. “I’ll hitch up the horse right now.”
Hannah looked up at him. “You will?”
“Your daed is important to me, just like my daadi was. I want to take you.” He looked at her mother. “You go in the ambulance. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”
Stephen hurried off to the barn while Hannah watched her mother climb into the back of the ambulance. Heavy raindrops splattered onto her face and caused her to shiver.
Stephen guided the horse and buggy over to her. “Let’s go.”
She settled into the seat beside him, and they rode in silence. Hannah wrung her hands and fiddled with her apron as raindrops peppered the windshield. Soon the rain pounded on the roof, and the scenery out the window became a blur.
Hannah turned to Stephen and found him white-knuckled while holding the reins.
“We should turn around and call Curt for a ride.” Stephen’s voice was soft and unsure through the rain beating on the buggy.
“No.” Hannah shook her head. “We have to get to the hospital. My parents need me.”
Stephen sniffed, and Hannah spotted a tear trickling down his cheek.
“Stephen? Are you okay?” She realized what was wrong. “You’re thinking of the accident.”
He nodded, keeping his eyes trained on the road ahead. “We need to go back. I can’t get you there safely.”
“Yes, you can.” She placed her hand on his arm. “This is the moment that you have to know that your past is covered by the cross. You can do this, Stephen. We will get there safely because God is in control.”
He met her gaze and nodded slowly. “You’re right, Hannah. All things are possible with God.”
“Always.” Hannah settled in the seat, and Stephen wiped his tears before loosening his hands on the reins.
“Danki for reminding me.” His voice was calm and controlled as he squeezed her hand. “Everything is going to be fine.”
Later that evening Hannah stepped out into the hallway outside her father’s hospital room and watched the doctor speak to her mother. They’d met Andrew at the hospital and then waited hours for her father to undergo tests and be admitted. She was thankful for Stephen, who had sat by her side and held her hand.
Now he touched her gently. “Your daed is going to be fine.”
“I know.” She smiled up at him. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I am too.”
They stood in silence until her mother walked over to them.
“What did the doctor say?” Hannah clasped her hands together.
“It was a stroke.” Her mamm frowned. “He’s going to have to spend a few days in the hospital, and then he’ll need physical therapy. The doctor said it could’ve been much worse, and it’s a good thing we brought him right to the hospital.”
Hannah felt the muscles in her shoulders relax. “Gut.”
“You and Stephen should go home. It’s late, and Andrew is about to leave. Everyone is tired.” Her mamm motioned toward the room. “I packed a few things, so I can stay the night with him. You can come back in the morning.”
“Okay.” Hannah went to her father’s bedside and watched him sleep for a moment. She then kissed his forehead. “You take care, Daed. Ich liebe dich.” She felt a hand on her arm and turned to find her mother waiting for her.
“I want to talk to you alone before you leave.” Her mother took her hand and led her out to the hallway.
Hannah watched her mother pull a piece of paper from her apron pocket. “What’s that?”
“I was planning on giving this to you tonight, but then everything happened with your daed.”
Hannah took the paper and gasped when she spotted her mammi’s handwriting. “The apple pie recipe!” She smiled up at her mother. “Danki.”
“I’m sorry, Hannah.” Her mother wiped away a tear. “I should’ve given it to you a long time ago. And I’m sorry for what I said about the apple pie. Your heart is pure, and Stephen is a gut young man.”
Hannah hugged her. “I forgive you. Ich liebe dich, Mamm.”
“I love you too.” Her mother smiled. “And I want you to make this pie as soon as your daed gets home. I’m certain yours will be just as gut as Mammi’s.” She sniffed. “And the books were fine. They were off because of a mistake I’d made. You’ve always been competent.”
“Thank you for believing in me, Mamm.”
Her mother cupped her hand to Hannah’s cheek. “I always have. I’m sorry I never told you.”
Hannah smiled and felt hot tears welling up again. She knew God was guiding the hearts of her family members, and she was more than thankful.
The sky was clear when Hannah settled into the buggy seat during the ride home. When they reached the house, she climbed out and looked upward. Her mouth gaped as she took in the beautiful golden and orange hues of the sunset. “Look, Stephen. Isn’t it beautiful?”
Stephen nodded. “God paints with the most schee paint-brushes.”
She smiled. “Danki for all you’ve done for my family. Not only today, but since you arrived. You’re a blessing to us.”
He took her hands in his. “And danki for all you’ve done for me. You reminded me about the power of our faith.”
He leaned down, and Hannah’s heart raced. His lips brushed hers, and the sensation sent her stomach into a wild swirl. Heat rushed up her neck to her cheeks, and her heart thudded in her chest. She felt light-headed when he broke the kiss.
He ran his fingers down her cheek. “It’s late. I better put the horse up.”
“Okay.” Hannah started toward the house and sighed deeply.
Stephen climbed the stairs, all the while thinking of Hannah. She truly was a blessing to him. Although the decision to make the trip to Paradise had seemed hasty, he knew now that it had been God’s path for him in order to guide his healing.
He stepped into his room and sat on the edge of his bed, which creaked under his weight. He knew that God had forgiven him for his past, but he still needed to release his guilt. That meant he also had to release his memories. And those were memories of Lillian. He knew now that Hannah’s resemblance to Lillian had only been a coincidence. He wasn’t supposed to live with her memory ever present in his life. He had to let Lillian go and live for the present, which was Hannah.
Stephen scanned his room looking for something that connected him to Lillian. He spotted his duffel bag in the corner and remembered the special birthday letter that Lillian had written him. He fished it out of a pocket in the duffel, then found a pack of matches on the desk.
He made his way outside and hurried behind the barn, away from the two houses. He knelt on the ground, and the cool moisture from the grass seeped through his trousers to his knees.
Stephen closed his eyes and sent a prayer up to God.
Lord, please relieve me of my burdens and cleanse me of the guilt. I know I’m not worthy of Your love, and I’m only forgiven by Your grace. Please lay Your precious hand on my heart, and help me forgive myself for all of my sins.
He then lit a match and set Lillian’s letter on fire. He watched the letter burn and breathed in the smoky scent as if it were incense, an offering to the Lord. A heavy weight lifted from his shoulders as the paper was reduced to ashes.
Be still and know that I am God.
Stephen looked up at the stars blinking in a clear sky. “Lord, is that You?”
Calmness settled in his heart, and for the first time since the accident, he didn’t feel the heartache or guilt coiling through him.
“Danki, Lord, for sending me to Paradise. I’ve found peace.”
When Hannah heard the back door bang, she pulled on her shoes and a cloak and went to investigate the smoke that was billowing up from near the barn.
“Stephen? What are you doing?” She stepped toward him. “What are you burning?”
“Hannah.” He stood and brushed off his hands. “I was burning a letter from Lillian that I had saved.”
“Why?”
“Because I needed to let go.” He took her hands in his. “Lillian was my past, but you are my present.” He put his arms around her shoulders and pulled her close.
A Recipe for Hope
* * *
BETH WISEMAN
* * *
CHAPTER ONE
IT’S GOING TO BE A LONG TWO MONTHS.
Eve Bender finished packing the necessities to take to her parents’ home, trying to follow the same instructions she was giving to the children: “Pack light, take only what you must have.”
Moving back in with her parents at age thirty-eight was bad enough, but she also had a husband and three teenage boys in their rumschpringe in tow.
Eve shook her head as she struggled to zip a large brown duffel bag. Of all the things to happen. Yesterday a storm had knocked a tree down onto their two-story farmhouse, and the damage was extensive. It was going to take members of the community two months to completely repair the structure, but Eve knew it was a miracle that none of them had gotten hurt. She’d been thanking God since it happened.
She placed the duffel bag next to an old red suitcase she’d bought at a mud sale in Penryn a few years before. She’d paid two dollars for the piece of luggage and only used it once when she and Benny traveled to Harrisburg to attend a cousin’s wedding. She folded her arms across her chest and stared at the bags, hoping she’d remembered everything they’d need at her parents’.
Benny, along with several men in the district, had cleared the tree earlier this morning, using a chainsaw to break the large limbs into logs that could be carried to the woodpile. Her husband had also checked to make sure the boys could get safely to their rooms upstairs. The tree had fallen through Eve’s sewing room upstairs and crushed the kitchen below it. They might have lived around the mess if it weren’t the middle of January. Benny and the boys had done the best they could to hang thick tarps over areas exposed to the elements, but Eve wondered if the clear sheeting would hold against a strong wind. She pulled her long black coat snug around her and went down the hall to check on the boys.
She walked into Leroy’s room. At eighteen, her oldest son was sitting on his bed with earbuds plugged into whatever his latest gadget was. He pulled one from his ear when she walked in.
“Are you packed?”
Leroy pointed to a dark-green duffel bag on the far side of the room. “Ya.” He put the plug back in his ear.
“Very gut.”
Shivering, Eve headed toward the twins’ room. She knocked on the door, then entered slowly, not surprised to find Elias sleeping on his twin bed and Amos sitting on the other bed with his pet lizard lying on his stomach.
“I’m trying to keep him warm,” Amos said when Eve put her hands on her hips and scowled. She wasn’t fond of the foot-long Chinese water dragon that Amos usually kept in a cage.
“Mammi is going to have a fit when you bring that lizard into her haus.”
Amos’s hazel eyes grew round as he sat up, cradling the reptile in his hands. “I—I can’t l-leave him here. He-he’ll freeze.”
The younger of her sixteen-year-old twins—by nine minutes— Amos, stuttered when he was upset or nervous. “I know. I’m just saying Mammi isn’t going to like it.” She walked over to where Elias was sleeping and gently slapped him on the leg. “Elias, get up.”
Elias rolled onto his back and rubbed his eyes. “It’s Sunday. A day of rest.”
“Not today. I told both you boys to pack whatever you need to go to Mammi and Daadi’s haus.”
Elias slowly sat up, his sandy brown hair tousled. “I don’t know why we have to go over there. This half of the haus is fine.” He rubbed his eyes again as he yawned.
