Annie's Truth (Touch of Grace) (34 page)

W
OMEN FROM THE
Amish community flocked around Hanna’s bed. She looked much better today and was ready to leave, but not until after the quilting bee.

Two circles of women sat closely together in the room, all chatting like clucking hens. Annie sat with Mamm, her mammi, Frieda, and John’s mamm. Hanna hadn’t spoken much to anyone since the accident. Most figured it was angst over the car incident, but Annie knew it was something more.

Annie took spools of orange, yellow, and dark threads to make a sunshine-and-shadow quilt true to how she felt, expressing dark and light, spirit and form. The challenge was bringing the two together as one in the center of the quilt.

Mamm sat next to her, tension still between them. “Why did you choose the sunshine and shadow?”

Annie started at her question, no longer used to being addressed by her mamm. “It’s complicated.”

Mamm’s eyes darted to Annie and then back to the wedding pattern she was patching together. Annie wondered who she intended it for but dared not ask.

“Tell me.” Mamm’s lips tightened, etching lines around the corners.

Annie was wary at first, then decided to let it out, not knowing if her thoughts would be accepted. “It’s my journey.”

“And…?” Mamm glanced at Annie then back to her work.

“The meaning of this quilt is contradictions coming together, conformity and freedom, discipline versus imagination, acceptance or doubt.”

Mamm stopped sewing and set the patches on her lap.

“It’s about balance—something I learned when I came back home and realized I didn’t have to choose one part of me over another.”

Mammi stopped her sewing as well, along with Ida and Frieda. “What were your two opposites?” Mammi questioned.

“Humility or self. I felt I’d done something wrong by leaving, and maybe in a way I did. But I needed to find myself, and in doing so, I’ve found a balance.”

Alma, not one to sew, laid a pile of patches she’d sorted on the table. “I’d say all that thinking is more than most do when they repent.” She looked to Mamm. “You have a very thoughtful daughter, Sarah.”

Her words hung in the room. Silence like thunder filled the air waiting for Mamm’s response. She picked up her sewing and began to stitch. “Jah, I guess I do.”

Another hour of pleasant conversation passed until Omar appeared in the doorway. “My, we can’t keep you women from sewing, even in a hospital.” His gray beard jiggled with his laugh.

He greeted everyone and then went to Hanna. They talked briefly before Omar asked Annie to come with him into the hallway. “Come sit.” He patted the chair next to him.

Annie sat down, not knowing what this would be about and nervous to find out. “Is there something wrong?”

“Why do people assume that when I ask to talk to them?” He placed his palms on his knees. “I just want to see how you’re doing.” He stared at her. “Look into my eyes.”

She did, and saw the merriment there, a regular Amish Santa Claus, even more so when he stroked his white beard. “I’ve heard word you and your birth mother found your way back to one another.”

She’d always liked the way he phrased things, so gentle and unassuming. “Jah, we have. The decisions I made to see her were difficult for my family to understand, and for others.”

“Jah, well, they’ll get over themselves too.” He pulled on his beard and stretched out his legs.

“Themselves?”

“There are just certain people who are quick to judge without putting themselves in someone else’s shoes.” He shook his head. “I hope we’ve all come back to what our faith is grounded upon after what happened up in Nickel Mines.”

“Forgiveness. I thought I knew the meaning of the word until I met my birth mother. Then it became hard because it was real, not just a word that was easy to say.”

“If you’re sincere, it’s not easy to say, and it’s even harder to do.” He leaned toward her. “I gather you’ve learned a lot while you were gone and after you returned.”

His words encouraged Annie. “Then why don’t we allow others to go on their journey as I did and learn these things too?”

“We can’t be just like everyone else. Our separateness is what makes us different.”

“Then how do we find contentment?”

“Accepting and achievement together make a person content. They stop questioning who they are and where they belong. This brings the freedom you found—by accepting who you are.”

“Why aren’t we taught these things?”

“You can’t teach this; you live it.” He lifted the ends of his skinny red lips. “Was your faith tested?”

She nodded without thought. “It became personal to me.”

“In what way?” He scooted up in his chair, interested.

“That religion should be a felt experience, not from the vanities.”

“People get caught up in the works and not in the relationship.”

Annie nodded again, loving this man. She only wished he spent more time in their community, but she knew he had others to tend to, as they were only one in his flock of communities. “When will you come see me again?”

“At your wedding.” He grinned with those rose-colored lips again.

She grinned, enjoying his playfulness. “Do you know something I don’t?”

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be much of a bishop, now would I?” He stood and squeezed her hand. “Good day, Annie Beiler.”

She watched his penguin-walk all the way to the elevators and waved to him as he turned around in the elevator before the doors shut.

Annie went back into Hanna’s room. She glanced at Hanna, who was giving her a blank stare. Maybe it was time to find out what was truly bothering her.

Annie studied the room to find everyone preoccupied with their quilts, ironically leaving Hanna to herself in the bed. “Do you feel up to sitting with us?”

“I’m not a very good patient.”

“Jah, I know.” Annie smiled. Hanna didn’t.

“Are you upset?”

“Of course I’m upset.”

“This will pass, and hopefully the driver will be found soon.”

“This is just my life.” She rolled her head against the pillow and stared at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Hanna. It could have been a lot worse.”

She grunted. “It’s just not fair.”

“What?”

“No matter what you do, it turns into your favor.”

“I hardly—”

“I was upset when you left, sad and lonely. That’s what brought John and me together.” She hit her head against the pillow. “I pushed things too far, and now I look a fool.”

Annie remembered how much Hanna used to think of others before herself. It saddened her that through all of this her sister had become indifferent and callous. “I don’t know what to say.”

Hanna turned to her. “You always know what to say.”

“You’ve changed, Hanna.”

“I wanted to change, to be better than I was.”

“You change when you stop trying to change, Hanna. You can’t force it. It just comes when it all fits.”

“I knew you’d figure out what to say.”

“I didn’t know if you wanted to hear it.”

“I don’t. I just wanted to see if it felt like it used to.”

Annie couldn’t imagine it did but hoped all the same.

“But it doesn’t.” Hanna rolled to her side, holding the bandage over her wound, and closed her eyes.

 
Chapter Thirty-Eight
 

I
T WAS SOON
after fall communion that the couples who provided the proper credentials were published. This being known, many of the young adults fidgeted in their seats during the two-hour sermon.

Zeke listed the beliefs of the Amish. “We believe the Bible is the inspired Word of Gott, we believe in the Trinity, and we believe Christ died to save us from sin.”

So far Annie wholly agreed with everything he said. She’d learned not to automatically accept everything he stated, as she used to, but she felt all the wiser for it.

“As Romans twelve tells us, ‘Be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of Gott.’’

He didn’t look at Annie as he used to, but during that verse she thought she saw his eyes meet hers for a second.

After Sunday service Zeke boomed out the names as if he were Gott Himself. “Kenny and Lydia, Eli and Miriam, David and Emma…” The names went on.

Hanna snapped up her head up at the sound of David’s name. Annie was sure if he had been there, Hanna would have given him a mouthful. But all the couples were at the homes of the first bride-to-be having a private meal together, so David would have a reprieve until tomorrow.

“Did you know?” Annie asked as carefully as she could.

Hanna shook her head.

Frieda pushed her way in between them. “Ach, Hanna.”

Hanna stuck out her bottom lip, pressing her top lip against it. “It’s okay,” she replied more to herself than to answer Frieda.

As everyone left, murmurs were heard of congratulations to family members and talk of what good matches they were. Mamm took Hanna by the arm. “You’re too young, Hanna. That’s all. You’re too young.” And they marched out ahead of the crowd.

The next couple of weeks were filled with weddings, at least one a day, so they could then place their focus on the Thanksgiving holiday. After the ceremony the reception took place at the bride’s home. There was never a day away from chores, so the timing of the events varied greatly.

As Annie entered Emma’s home, she scanned the room. All the furniture was pushed to other rooms or against walls. There was a wooden bookshelf and tables of food from those who gathered to talk with the couple.

The bride and groom made a list of the couples who were dating and would be seated together during the meal. They sat with the bride and groom at the corners of two tables called the
eck
. Those married sat at the far side of the table. Emma called off the young ladies’ names and placed a hand at the chair they were to sit in.

When she had called out a fair number, Annie’s question was answered. At one time she and John would have been the first couple called. Now they might not be called at all.

“…and Annie Beiler.”

At the sound of her name, Annie’s senses were awakened. She glanced at John, who stood with his hands in his pockets, grinning, staring at the floor. Annie went to Emma and sat in the assigned seat. Then her eyes went to David, who was ready to call the young men to their places, and she knew it was he who suggested putting her and John together.

Leafy celery stalks in jars were set at the table for decoration. The meal itself was a feast, with Mamm’s roast beef, Miriam’s chicken, Alma’s best mashed potatoes, Mammi’s slaw, applesauce, and creamed celery made by the bride’s and groom’s mamms, and then came the dessert. When the meal was over, the party would continue on for hours, well into the night.

Annie finally had a moment alone with the hostess. “Emma, you look beautiful in that dress.” All the dresses were blue but newly made and different styles. Emma’s black hair and eyes stood out against the deep blue. “Annie.” She grasped her hand. “I’m so glad to see you.” She pulled Annie to a quiet place by the bookshelf. “Hanna’s upset, I know.” She wrung her hands. “I wish I could say I’m sorry, but I can’t. As soon as David and I started spending time together, I knew he was the one.”