The Amish Groom ~ Men of Lancaster County Book 1 (46 page)

I thanked Him for faith, for grace and mercy.

For loving me when I was
Englisch
and loving me no more and no less now that I would be Amish.

I thanked Him for giving me the freedom to choose the life I wanted to live and for showing me His will for that life.

I thanked Him for the capacity to love other people.

I rose from the frosted ground. Timber barked joyfully.

Let’s run
, the dog seemed to say.

And so we did.

I’d witnessed plenty of baptisms in my seventeen years in Lancaster County, including Rachel’s, but I had never listened as fully to the words of commitment as I did later that morning at the worship service.

I knelt with the five other young adults who were to be baptized alongside me. I renounced the devil and the world. I committed myself to Christ and Christ alone, and I promised to uphold the
Ordnung
of my district and to serve in ministry should the lot ever fall to me. One of the deacons then poured water through the bishop’s hands over my head. The water was cool and cleansing, and tiny rivers slid down my collar to trail down my back. I stood and the bishop leaned forward to kiss me on my cheek, a holy kiss of welcome.

I had never felt more connected. I had never felt more a part of anything in my life.

In July, that feeling strengthened when my California family remained true to their promise and came out for a stay at the farm. I think we were all a little nervous at first, but they seemed game to unplug and experience the “simple life” for the ten days of their visit. In turn, I did my best to keep them occupied and show them a good time.

That first day, I introduced Brady to several Amish cousins close to his age, and they hit it off right away, much to my relief. My dad wanted to explore the workshop, where he began peppering me with questions, marveling at the ingenious ways our tools had been adapted for nonelectrical use. While we were busy out there, Liz spent time in the kitchen with
Mammi
, learning to make biscuits from scratch.

The first few days of their visit went well, though at times they seemed to grow antsy and uncomfortable—and I heard a few under-the-breath remarks about the lack of air-conditioning, the early-to-bed-early-to-rise hours we kept, and the smell of manure wafting over from the farm next door. But by about the fourth day, I noticed that all three seemed to have relaxed significantly. Here there were no cell phones, no email, no iPads or voice mail or any other digital connections to their world back home and, thus unplugged, they began to flourish.

Brady’s new friends taught him how to handle a horse and buggy and play Dutch Blitz, and he impressed them in turn with his prowess at our nightly volleyball games in the yard. As the week went on, my dad happily pitched in with buggy repairs, and one night at dinner Liz declared as her goal to take on all of
Mammi
’s chores the next day so that the woman could put her feet up and rest. We all chuckled—both at the thought of Liz doing everything and of
Mammi
doing nothing—but in the end she came close to achieving her goal. Liz also endeared herself to me when she made a special effort to get to know Rachel, spending a day at her house canning with her and her mom, and then later taking both of them for a “girls day out” of lunch and shopping in Strasburg. Throughout everything, I was glad that Dad, Liz, and Brady seemed to find a comfortable familiarity with my way of life, which had always felt so foreign and unapproachable to them before.

In the beginning, I knew that my California family was just humoring me, but by the end of their stay, they seemed genuinely glad they had come. And we all knew that I had been right. The simpler life was good for them. Even Brady had managed to break the habit of reaching for his cell phone every few minutes and instead focused on the people around him.

Best of all was the look on my father’s face during our nightly Bible time. To my surprise, for the duration of their visit,
Daadi
tucked away the King James Bible and read from a more modern, easy-to-understand translation instead—an act which touched me deeply. As his gentle voice shared the Word of the Lord by candlelight, I could sense a willing eagerness in my father’s eyes, a hunger, one I had never seen before. Each night, I silently prayed that he would come to know God on a personal level—and ultimately lead his wife and younger son there as well.

Despite the wonderful week we shared, it wasn’t too difficult to say goodbye once it was over, because we knew they would be returning in just a few months for the wedding.

Rachel and I were finally joined together as husband and wife in October, in the very first ceremony of the fall marriage season because neither of us could wait a moment longer. With Jake serving as my
newehocker
and Brady sitting nearby as unofficial groomsman, Rachel and I took our vows and fulfilled at last the promise first begun on a school playground so many years before.

At the reception afterward, I was thrilled to see how easily Brady and my dad and Liz fit in with everyone else—Amish or not—and simply laughed and talked and helped us celebrate this special day. Their trip here over the summer had definitely made changes in all of them and had helped cement our relationships in a whole new way.

I also continued to feel a deeper connection with the other members of my district. The boy who had never belonged finally felt a part of something—fully—at last.

And then there was the woman sitting next to me. The whole day, I couldn’t stop smiling, especially each time I caught the beautiful blue eyes of my bride. Gazing at her, I realized I wasn’t just a full-blown member of my father’s family out there or my mother’s family back here or of this loving Amish community. Now I was also a part of something even more special—of Rachel and me and our own little family of two. God willing, that number would grow with the passing years. But I couldn’t imagine my joy ever being more complete than it was now.

More than once that day, I thought of my mother and how much I wished she could have been at the wedding with us. But I had a peace about it, thanks to the legacy she had given me, the legacy of an Amish life.

For months I had saved the letter she’d written to Sarah, never quite feeling led to give it to her prior to now. But something told me this would be the day, especially given the sad moment she and I had shared together at Anna’s wedding the year before. Perhaps now Sarah could finally find some peace.

This time, I was the one who found her at the fence, focused on the horses.

“Missing your best friend?” I said, coming to a stop behind my aunt.

Sarah startled, and then she smiled when she turned and realized it was me. Her smile faded away just as quickly.

“Best friends don’t leave,” she said, shaking her head. “They don’t just run off without a word.”

Stepping closer, I pulled the letter from my pocket and handed it to her. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” I said. Then I explained how I had found the item she was holding and that it was an unfinished letter to her, one that my mother had started writing the day before she died.

Sarah’s face grew so pale that I took her arm and led her to a nearby stump, where she sat. As she unfolded the pages with trembling hands and began to read, I gave her shoulder a pat and then went in search of her husband.

I found Jonah in the barn and pulled him aside, telling him that his wife needed him out back.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, and for a moment, as I looked into his eyes, I felt a surge of bitterness. If not for the persistence of his affections, she would never have had to leave here in the first place.

Then again, I realized, had she never left, she never would have met my father—and I never would have been born.

“Just go to her,” I said, forgiveness surging in my chest as I realized God’s hand had been in all of it, every step of the way.

When I once again reached Rachel’s side, she gripped my hand under the table and held on tight.

“Where were you?” she whispered, a flash of fear in her deep blue eyes. “Not having second thoughts, are you?”

“Of course not.”

“No whispering to you from the outside, pulling you away?”

Looking back at her, all I could do was smile. “Oh, Rachel,” I said, holding her hand even tighter. “If you only knew. Trust me, I am
exactly
where I want to be. From now on, the only whisper I’ll be hearing in my ear is yours.”

She smiled back at me, the twinkle returning to her eye. “For the rest of your life?”

“For the rest of my life.” And then, in a very non-Amish display of affection, I kissed my new wife.

Afterward, I looked around the room at all who had gathered there, my mind returning to the words my mother had said that first time she’d told me about the pond on her parents’ farm.

There’s always another place besides the one where you are.

For such a long time I thought I had no place, neither here nor there. Now I knew that nothing could be further from the truth.

I had a place, all right. It was here in Lancaster County, right here amid my community, my family, my loved ones. Right by Rachel’s side.

Right where I had been all along.

D
ISCUSSION
Q
UESTIONS

1. The pond at his grandparents’ farm holds a special place in Tyler Anderson’s heart. What are some of the reasons he is drawn to it?

2. What do you think the pond symbolizes? Is there a place or object at your childhood home that affects you in a similar way?

3. Was Duke’s decision to leave his son in the care of his grandparents the right thing to do? How might Tyler’s personality and character have been different had his mother not died? How about if Duke had kept him instead of sending him away?

4. Tyler’s little brother felt cheated of a relationship with his big brother. How valid are Brady’s feelings? Would you have felt the same way? What has been the influence of sibling relationships in your life?

5. When Tyler arrives in California, he is intent on fitting in and masking his Amish upbringing. Why do you think he felt the need to do that?

6. Tyler made a list of distinctions that were true of the
Englisch
world as he saw it. If you were to make a similar list about the non-Amish world, what would you include?

7. Had you been in Sadie’s shoes, would you have told Sarah the full truth about why you left Lancaster County? Why or why not?

8. What was Rachel afraid of when Tyler returned to Lancaster County? To what degree do love and trust work together?

9. Do you think Tyler’s
Englisch
family will continue to visit him in Lancaster County? Do you think Tyler will still have an influence on them even after he takes his membership vows?

10. Where do you see Rachel and Tyler in ten years? Do you think Tyler will still be drawn to visit the pond, or has he found peace at last?