Amish Homecoming

That was all the encouragement Mandy needed to begin chatting as if she wanted to catch up her grossdawdi on everything that had happened from the day she was born. She barely slowed down to eat and paid no attention when Leah reminded her that it was rude to speak with her mouth full of food. She asked about the animals on the farm and told him about Shep.

Only because she was watching did Leah notice Daed wince when Mandy began talking about how Shep had helped alert them to Johnny’s seizures. When he abruptly said it was time for another prayer before they left the table, he gave them no time to bow their heads before he’d pushed back his chair and was striding to the back door. He called back over his shoulder that the buggy would be ready to leave in a few minutes.

Mandy looked at Leah. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Of course not. We simply don’t want to be late for the worship service,” Mamm answered before Leah could. Coming to her feet, she picked up the almost empty muffin plate. “Leah, help Mandy with her hair while I clear the table.”

Leah brushed out her niece’s hair, braided it and wound it around her head properly with the ease of years of practice. Sending Mandy back upstairs to get her white, heart-shaped kapp and her black bonnet, she began picking up the dirty dishes and stacking them by the sink where they could be washed once the Sabbath was past.

“That went well,” she said without looking at her mamm. “Daed seemed very glad to see Mandy.”

“Why shouldn’t he be? Mandy is a sweet, gut kind. You’ve brought her up well.”

Warmth spread through the iciness that had clamped around Leah from the moment she witnessed her daed’s weakness by the chicken coop. She considered asking her mamm if Daed was feeling poorly but had to wonder if she’d misconstrued what she saw. After a long trip away, Daed probably was exhausted. Could that explain his terse reaction to her homecoming? She longed to believe that was so.

“Danki. I made sure that we lived a gut Christian life while we were away,” Leah replied.

“I know you well, daughter. I have never doubted that you did your best to live as you were taught. Since you brought Mandy home, I have seen how you made efforts to teach her our ways and our beliefs.”

“If you see that, why can’t Daed?” She clapped her hand over her mouth, but it was too late. She’d blurted out the words from the depths of her aching heart.

“I warned you. He was hurt and humiliated when you left. To lose two kinder when they jumped the fence...” Mamm shook her head and sighed.

“But I didn’t jump the fence.”

“You left.” She turned to the stairs as Mandy bounced down into the kitchen.

Leah didn’t answer as her mamm checked that Mandy’s bonnet was properly tied beneath her chin before her niece rushed out to watch Daed harness the horse to the buggy. Leah wasn’t sure what she could have said. She had left...to go with Johnny and persuade him to return, though she never had succeeded with that. Was her failure why Daed was so upset with her? That she’d never convinced his only son to come home?

Again those traitorous tears welled up in her eyes. She longed to ask her daed why he hadn’t read even one of her letters. It had been difficult to steal time away from taking care of an invalid and a kind to write to her family. Maybe if Daed explained why he’d sent back the letters, she could understand why he joyously had welcomed his granddaughter home while hardly acknowledging his daughter. There must be something more behind his actions than him being furious that she’d left with Johnny and his girlfriend, Carleen, years ago.

Wasn’t there?

* * *

Ezra sensed the underlying anticipation in the members of the district who had gathered on the front lawn of Henry Gingerich’s home. Part of today’s worship included the selection of the new minister, and already the baptized members had nominated their choice for the next Diener zum Buch by whispering that man’s name to the other minister or the bishop. Any married man whose name was whispered by three different members would be placed in the lot for the next “minister of the book,” who would be expected to preach a sermon in two weeks and every other Sunday for the rest of his life.

The married men were gathered in small groups or stood with their wives and kinder. Everyone spoke in hushed voices, and, though nobody would be speculating on who would be called forward, he knew it was the main topic on everyone’s mind.

He hoped the tension kept the rest of the congregation from noticing how his head snapped about when he heard Leah’s lyrical voice not far from where he stood by himself. Looking to his right, he saw her with her arm around her niece’s shoulders.