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Authors: Cindy Woodsmall

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BOOK: The Bridge of Peace
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She patted a few cows on the rump, gently moving them along. The herd desperately wanted in the barn at milking time, each cow hurrying to a stall in the milking parlor, but they weren’t eager to leave the building afterward. Their contented lowing and the ease with which they lumbered outdoors toward the bunk feeder and water trough made her smile. The large creatures were the same today as they’d always been—peaceful and productive.
In a side stall a new calf nursed from its mother. Ginger slid her head across the wooden gate, and Sylvia rubbed her long forehead. Sylvia had been up half the night making sure Ginger didn’t have any trouble bringing the calf into the world. Fortunately, Sylvia hadn’t needed to pull the calf or call a vet. Both were victories she was proud of.
Two years ago after she’d cried over the death of both a cow and her calf, her Daed did the unthinkable. He gave her the right to tend to the breeding of the herd as she saw fit. Her ways took more effort than his, but she’d not lost a cow or a calf yet. Milk production was up, and the overall health of the herd had improved. She had her grandpa’s teachings to thank for that.
Her Daed returned from the milk house. “I bet you’re thinking about Daadi Fisher.”
“Ya, I think of him every time a healthy calf is born.” As a child she’d been her grandfather’s shadow while he tended to the cows, and she’d been young when he began training her in the value of careful breeding and vigilance during every labor and birth. In spite of her being a girl in a patriarchal society, he believed in her. When he’d passed away a couple of years ago, she thought her heart might break.
Daed headed toward the remaining buckets of milk. Sylvia pushed the wheeled cart that carried all her milking supplies toward the mud sink. “I need the two heaviest of those buckets, Daed.”
“Two?” His eyes met hers, reflecting interest. “You making more yogurt already?”
“I am.”
“Are we eating that much, or are you selling that much?” He poured the white, frothy liquid into a sterilized milk can for her and securely tamped down the lid.
“The answer to both is yes.”
It was rare to see a smile on Daed’s face before breakfast, but he grinned broadly. “
Sell iss gut
, ya?”
“Ya, it’s a good thing.” She pushed the supply cart into the milk house ection of the barn and then returned to the parlor. “Daed, do you mind if I go to the house early? A bad dream woke Ruth up last night. I promised her that this morning I’d prove it was just a dream.”
He tossed a pitchfork into a wheelbarrow and went into the first stall. “Sure, go on.”
Sylvia abandoned her usual routine and climbed the haymow. After finding the mama cat’s new hiding place for her kittens, she gently placed Ruth’s favorite tabby into the inside pocket of her coat and then went back down the ladder.
“Hey, Daed.”
He turned, and she pulled out the kitten, once again hinting at her ultimate goal: for Ruth to be allowed to keep this one inside the house when the little fur ball was a week or so older.
A lopsided grin caused one side of his face to wrinkle, and she wondered what had him so jovial this morning. “Just don’t get me in trouble over it. And make sure Ruthie knows it can’t stay inside. Barn cats tend to become mean once they get a little age on them.”
Sylvia put the milk cans into a wooden handcart. “They wouldn’t if—”
“Go already.” He shooed her toward the barn door. “I don’t want to hear any more of your newfangled ideas about how I could run this farm differently. They always cost me money and energy.”
His tone was playful, but she’d be wise to accept that he meant his words … for now. He’d come a long way in accepting her ideas concerning the farm. She often wondered if he’d give her any say if he had a son. She’d never know, because he had nine daughters, of which she was the eldest and the only one with a heart for farming.
His other daughters were more typical and girlish in every possible way, preferring housework over farm work. The three teenagers—Beckie, Lizzie, and Naomi—hated farming, always had. Lilly, who’d just turned twelve, would never complain about anything, but the smells and hard work made her queasy. The four youngest—Ruth, Barbie Ann, Salome, and Martha—were a hazard in the barn, causing Daed to shoo them away if they set foot inside the milking parlor.
Pushing the milk cart, Sylvia hurried from the barn to the house. Last week’s snow glistened under the early morning sunlight. She toted the heavy milk cans inside one by one, being careful not to lean the containers against her body and squish the kitten.
The warmth of the entryway made her cold fingers scream in pain. Delicious aromas of sausage, biscuits, and coffee made her mouth water and her tummy rumble, keen reminders of how long and cold her night had been.
Her
Mamm
was adding wood to the stove, and Lizzie stood at the sink, washing dishes. There was never a shortage of dirty glasses and plates in a house with eleven people.
Sylvia removed her wader boots. “Morning.”
Lizzie yawned. “That it is, and it arrives way too early in this house.”
“Why, there you are.” Mamm closed the door to the stove, smiling and motioning for her. “
Kumm
. Warm yourself. How’s that mama cow?”
“Ginger and her newborn are doing great.”
“I’m glad, but a girl shouldn’t have to work like you do.”
“I love it. You know that.”
Mamm put her arm around Sylvia’s shoulders and squeezed. “Still, we need a solution, and your Daed’s found one that is right around the corner.”
Sylvia would never get used to Daed making plans about the farm without telling her. “What does that mean?”
Naomi came through the back door, carrying an armload of firewood. She held the door open while Beckie entered with a lighter bundle of wood.
Beckie’s blond hair peeked out from under one of Daed’s black felt hats, and her blue eyes shone with spunk. “Good grief it’s cold out there. Isn’t it time for warmer weather?”
Mamm pulled several mugs out of the cabinet. “Your Daed said they’re calling for a long winter and a late spring this year.”
Clearly her mother had no intention of answering Sylvia’s question. She’d find out whenever her Daed was ready for her to know.
 
 
 
Interested in more Amish fiction by Cindy Woodsmall?
Visit
AmishFiction.net

Ada’s House Series
Main Characters

Lena Kauffman
—twenty-three-year-old Amish schoolteacher in Dry Lake.
Israel Kauffman
—a forty-five-year-old Amish widower. Lena’s father. He’s been quietly interested in Ada Stoltzfus for a long time.
Allen Kauffman
—twenty-nine-year-old brother of Lena. Close friend of Grey’s. Married to Emily, and they have four children.
Benjamin “Grey” Graber
—twenty-eight-year-old Amish man married to Elsie.
Elsie Blank Graber
—twenty-seven years old. Married to Grey Graber.
Ivan Graber
—five-year-old son of Grey and Elsie Graber.
Cara Atwater Moore
—twenty-eight-year-old waitress from New York City who lost her mother as a child, was abandoned by her father, and grew up in foster care. Cara has been stalked for years by Mike Snell. She and her daughter, Lori, found their way to Dry Lake in
The Hope of Refuge
, and Cara is now engaged to Ephraim Mast.
Lori Moore
—Cara’s seven-year-old daughter. Lori’s father, Johnny, died before she turned two years old, leaving Cara a widow.
Ephraim Mast
—thirty-two-year-old, single Amish man who works as a cabinetmaker and helps manage his ailing father’s business and care for their large family. He and Cara became friends during her visit to Dry Lake when she was a child.
Deborah Mast
—twenty-one-year-old Amish woman who was engaged to Mahlon Stoltzfus in
The Hope of Refuge
. She’s Ephraim’s sister, but she lives with Ada in Hope Crossing.
Mahlon Stoltzfus
—twenty-three-year-old Amish man who was engaged to Deborah in
The Hope of Refuge
. He ran off without explanation, leaving his widowed mother and Deborah to cope with life and bills on their own.
Jonathan Stoltzfus
—twenty-six-year-old Amish man who is good friends with Lena Kauffman.
Ada Stoltzfus
—forty-three-year-old widow whose only child is Mahlon. She’s a friend and mentor to Deborah Mast. She took Cara under her wing in
The Hope of Refuge
.
Aaron Blank
—twenty-four years old. He was raised Amish but hasn’t joined the faith. His sister is Elsie. He runs his parents’ dairy farm.
Michael Blank
—Elsie and Aaron’s father and the chairman of the school board for the local Amish school.
Dora Blank
—Michael’s wife and Elsie and Aaron’s mother.
Anna Mary Lantz
—Ephraim’s ex-girlfriend and one of Deborah’s good friends.
Emma and Levi Riehl
—an aunt and uncle of Cara’s who inadvertently contributed to her being abandoned as a child and consequently being raised in foster care.
Robbie
—an Englischer who is a co-worker and driver for Ephraim’s cabinetry business. He is a driver for several Old Order Amish families.
Nicky
—a mixed-breed dog whose personality and size resemble the author’s dog, Jersey.

Glossary
*

Alt Maedel
—old maid
Daadi
—grandfather
Daed
—dad or father
denki
—thank you
Englischer
—a non-Amish person. Mennonite sects whose women wear the prayer Kapps are not considered Englischers and are often referred to as Plain Mennonites.
Grossdaadi
—grandfather
Grossmammi
—grandmother
guck
—look
gut
—good
Helf
—help
Hund
—dog
Kapp
—a prayer covering or cap
kumm
—come (singular)
kummet
—come (plural)
Mamm
—mom or mother
nee
—no
Ordnung
—The written and unwritten rules of the Amish. The regulations are passed down from generation to generation. Any new rules are agreed upon by the church leaders and endorsed by the members during special meetings. Most Amish know all the rules by heart.
Pennsylvania Dutch—Pennsylvania German.
Dutch
in this phrase has nothing to do with the Netherlands. The original word was
Deutsch
, which means “German.” The Amish speak some High German (used in church services) and Pennsylvania German (Pennsylvania Dutch), and after a certain age, they are taught English.
Plain—refers to the Amish and certain sects of Mennonites.
Plain Mennonite—any Mennonites whose women wear the prayer Kapp and caped dresses and the men have a dress code.
BOOK: The Bridge of Peace
7.78Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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