A Quilt for Jenna (31 page)

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Authors: Patrick E. Craig

BOOK: A Quilt for Jenna
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Jerusha was beginning to worry. She had used up more of the wood since dawn, and the pile was shrinking. The little girl remained quiet in her arms as she slept. Jerusha realized the girl was thirsty and hungry. She gently laid the little girl down. There were a couple of empty beer cans in the corner, and she picked one up and went to the door. She opened it just a crack, packed the can full of snow, and brought it over to the stove. She put the can on the flat plate above the firebox, and in a few minutes the snow had melted into water. She took a swallow and almost retched at the stale taste of old beer and dirt.

Ugh! Good thing I didn't just give that to Jenna
—

She caught herself.

Bobby Halverson's off-the-cuff prophecy came true. Jerusha's baby was born on Christmas Day 1944. The labor was short and the delivery easy, and Reuben and Jerusha's little girl was born early in the morning at home in the Springers' big bed. She was strong and healthy, and when the midwife slapped her little bottom, the lusty cry was like an angel's voice to Jerusha. Reuben took her in his strong arms and blessed her.

“Loving God, thank You for the gift of life and for bringing our little girl safely into this world. May You bless her and keep her and help her to grow loving, strong, and healthy in Your love, now and always. Amen.” Then he placed her in his wife's arms. Tears started in Jerusha's eyes as an overpowering love for the little girl swept over her.

“She's so white and lovely,” she whispered. “What shall we call her, Reuben?”

“Well, the Celtic name Gwynwhyhar means white, fair, and smooth. That's a mouthful, so we could use the short version. Gwynwhyhar became Guenivere and then Jennifer and finally Jenny or Jenna. Shall we call her Jenna?”

“Jenna...Jenna,” Jerusha repeated, letting the name roll off her tongue. “It's perfect. She'll be Jenna Springer, fair and lovely all her days.”

As the days passed, Jerusha and Reuben felt as if they had never been without this beautiful child. She was so easy to care for and so sweet in all her ways from her first day, the Springers could only take joy in caring for her. She loved being held and cooed and gurgled softly when her
daed
picked her up. She nursed easily and then fell quietly asleep in Jerusha's arms.

Even at night when it was time to feed her, the soft little voice called out to them instead of jerking them abruptly from sleep. Jerusha sat with her and stared at her features, running her finger over the soft bow of her lips or smelling the sweetness of her skin. Occasionally Uncle Bobby dropped by with some vague reason why he had to talk to Reuben, but Jerusha knew he came for Jenna. She would smile and admonish him as he stood expectantly, shifting from one foot to the other.

“You don't need to make up excuses to come here, Bobby. We know you're here to see Jenna.”

And Bobby would blush and then smile and nod. “Can you blame me?”

And Jerusha could not, for she wanted her little girl to grow up surrounded by people who loved the child deeply. And then she would pass the little girl into Bobby's arms and watch with glee while the normally reserved Bobby Halverson made a lovable fool of himself with baby talk and silliness as Jenna cooed in appreciation.

During the first year of her life, Jenna grew strong and precocious. She began to form words early and seemed to have an insatiable curiosity about everything, especially language. She would sit for a long time trying out sounds, repeating interesting or amusing syllables over and over. Sometimes when she said something new or made a sound that felt strange to her mouth, she giggled and waved her arms.

“She's just like you, Reuben,” Jerusha said. “She's obviously a deep thinker, and she's sharing some arcane wisdom with herself.”

Reuben would take the baby in his arms and hold her. Sometimes a serious look would come over his face as he beheld his daughter.

“I've made so many mistakes,” he said one day. “I won't let our girl make the same errors I made. I'll keep the world and its evil from her as long as I can.”

“At some point in her life, she's going to have to find out these things for herself.”

Suddenly Reuben was up out of his chair, pacing, agitated. “No she won't. We will see to it that she follows the Amish ways all her life. We have the means within our faith to remain unstained from the world. We will make sure that she follows the rules of the
ordnung
.”

Jerusha stared at Reuben. “I wasn't meaning to upset you,” she said quietly. “You're right, of course. I know that there's safety in the way we live. Now calm yourself and sit. We have plenty of time before we have to worry about such things.”

Reuben turned to Jerusha as though he was going to say something and then thought better of it. He controlled himself and sat back down in his chair. The outburst seemed to have drained him completely. His shoulders slumped, and his features looked drawn. He took a moment and then spoke.

“Jerusha, I am the way I am for a reason. I've been to hell and back. I once said I wouldn't speak of it, but there is part of it you must hear to understand me. When I was in the Pacific fighting the Japanese, I saw the very depths of man's corruption. Man is hopelessly lost, and each one of us is fully capable of the most horrifying, depraved behavior. I know because that is how I behaved when I was on Guadalcanal. After the war, I swore I would never set foot out in the world again. So I returned home and to the church because it's the only way I know to live a righteous life. The
ordnung
is like a fortress I can take refuge in. I need not ever worry, for when I have questions, our faith has the answer. That's what saves me, guides me, and keeps me sane...and that's how our family will live.”

Jerusha sat silently, her emotions churning within her.
He has come back to the church to hide, but somehow in his fear he has kept the Lord out of his fortress.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY
-T
HREE

A Test of Faith

F
OUR YEARS PASSED SWIFTLY
in Reuben and Jerusha's home. Jenna grew, and soon everyone could see she was a special girl. She somehow avoided most of the pitfalls of early childhood. She was not self-centered or challenging in any way. Indeed, she was turning into a compassionate and caring little girl. An injured bird would bring her to tears; a hungry kitten would be brought to Mama for attention.

Jenna learned obedience and respect at an early age, much to the admiration of the adults who knew her. Her love for her parents was seen in how quietly she would sit and play as her mother worked around the house or quilted. And when she heard the latch lift on the door in the evening, would run to her
daed
's arms.

“It's almost as though she already knows
der Heilige Geist
,” Jerusha's father said one day. “I've never known a child so gentle and kind.”


Ja, Vater, sie ist ein spezielles Kind
,” replied Jerusha. “She is a special child.”

One day when Jenna was four years old, some of Jerusha's friends and their children came to visit. After the women visited for a while, Jenna came into the house from playing in the yard with tears in her eyes.


Was ist los
,
dochter
?” asked Jerusha.

“Jonas hit me, Mama.”

Jonas' mother got up to fetch her child. “I will make sure to spank him, Jerusha,” she said.

“No, please don't spank him,” said Jenna. “I forgive Jonas.”

“But Jonas did a bad thing, Jenna,” Jerusha explained. “He deserves a spanking.”

“We all deserve a spanking,” said Jenna, “but mostly God forgives us. So I forgive Jonas.”

The women stared at Jenna with surprise, and then Jerusha took her little girl into her lap and held her. “You are kind, my darling, and you are right. We all do deserve a spanking, but God in His mercy has forgiven us.”

One day in the fall of 1949, without warning, the lives of the Springer family suddenly changed. Jenna came in from playing and said she didn't feel well.

Jerusha felt her forehead and, sensing no fever, offered Jenna a snack. But the girl replied, “I'm not hungry, Mama. I want to take a nap.”

That in itself was unusual, but Jerusha chalked it up to Jenna having simply played too hard with the other children. Still, she put Jenna to bed and went about her work. When she went to wake Jenna later, the child was still drowsy and difficult to rouse. Jerusha let her stay in bed, and she slept through dinner.

“Where's Jenna?” Reuben asked when he came in after work.

“She didn't feel well, and she's in bed,” Jerusha said.

They had dinner, and as they sat together afterward, Jerusha heard Jenna crying in her room. She went in and lit the gaslight.

“Please turn it off, Mama. It hurts my eyes.”

“What's wrong, child?” Jerusha asked.

“My head hurts, Mama. It hurts bad.”

Jerusha sat on the edge of the bed and felt Jenna's forehead again. This time she felt very warm.

“Mama, I said turn the light down,” said Jenna irritably. “It hurts my eyes.”


Ja
, Jenna,” replied Jerusha in surprise as she stood and turned down the light. Her daughter had never spoken to her that way before.

“My neck hurts, Mama. It's hard to move.”

“I'll fix you something,” Jerusha said. “Just try to rest, and I'll be right back.”

Jerusha went out into the living room. She had a troubled look on her face, and Reuben noticed it right away.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

“Jenna has a fever and a bad headache. I'm going to boil honey and apple cider vinegar and have her inhale it. That should help her headache.”

Jerusha went into the kitchen and prepared the remedy. She took it into Jenna's room in a bowl and had her daughter put a towel over her head and inhale the steam. The girl lay back down in the bed.

That night Jerusha heard Jenna crying again. She went in to her room and was dismayed to find a reddish rash on Jenna's face and arms. She brought a cool damp cloth from the kitchen and placed it on Jenna's feverish brow. Suddenly the little girl vomited.

“Mama, I feel bad and I can't move my neck,” Jenna said weakly.

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