The Guardian (11 page)

“Why do ya run, Jodi?” Bertie asked, putting down her fork and wiping her mouth with the back of her chubby hand.

“Well, it’s a great way to handle stress, or to mull things over. And I get some good exercise, too.”

Mollie leaned back in her chair. “Did ya know there’s a half marathon coming up in a few weeks not far from here—in early September, I believe.”

“Really?” Jodi’s eyes lit up. “Where?”

“It’s the Bird-in-Hand Half Marathon, between the villages of Bird-in-Hand and Intercourse. And a whole bunch of Amish young folk go running together every few evenings, once the sun goes down—‘cept Sundays,” Mollie told her. “They call themselves the
Vella Shpringa
—Let’s Run. Would ya like to join them?”

Maryanna didn’t know what had gotten into her sister. Were they all falling under the Englischer’s sway?

Jodi seemed pleased. “Will any of you be running?”

“My husband, Jeremiah, plans to,” Mollie answered right quick.

“Funny you’re telling me this.”

“Why’s that?” Mollie stole a glance at Maryanna.

“Well, driving in from Cattail Road today, I noticed how Hickory Lane weaves and curves, and I thought it might be a relaxing place to jog.”

“I think that’s why the folk enjoy the back roads here, away from traffic.”

“So it’s a half marathon?” Jodi asked.

“That’s right—an annual fall event.” Mollie was looking
now at Fannie and Bertie, and Maryanna almost wondered if she was going to ask them if
they
wanted to run with the stranger at the table.

Jodi’s eyes twinkled. “I’ll google it and find out more.”

“Google?” Bertie laughed. “Such a silly word.”

Jodi tried to explain about the Internet, but Maryanna inched into the conversation and changed the subject to the upcoming canning bee over at Rhoda Kurtz’s place next week. And that was that.

––

Once the table was cleared, Maryanna was conscious of Benny and Tobias over with Jodi, showing off their whittling projects—a duck head and an egg. Jodi made over the pieces, complimenting the boys and asking questions.

Meanwhile, little Sarah pleaded in Deitsch for her mother to invite Jodi for another visit as Maryanna stacked the last of the dishes in the sink. Maryanna was secretly glad Jodi didn’t know what Sarah was begging for, although by the tone of her voice, most anyone could’ve guessed.

At last, Maryanna gave in and agreed to invite Jodi Winfield to come tomorrow. Sarah squealed with joy and scampered across the room to Jodi, whose cheeks sported a wholesome blush.

Where do I draw the line?
Maryanna wondered, still grateful to the guest in their midst, but also wary of her youngest’s strong attachment to her “guardian angel.”

K
umme mit?
” Sarah asked as she inquisitively looked up at Jodi. She held out her petite hand.

Leda translated the earnest request as the three of them walked to the main back door. “She wants to show you the hen house and Mamma’s perty greenhouse, too.”

Jodi smiled as Sarah bit her lower lip, obviously hoping the answer was yes.

Stooping to Sarah’s level, Jodi shook her head. She’d already sensed more than a slight hesitation from her Amish hostesses. Regardless of Maryanna’s gratitude, she certainly wasn’t accustomed to Englishers hanging around. It was time to exit, once she and Maryanna had their “talk.”

But Sarah’s sulking face spoke a world of words.

“I’m sorry, sweetie.”

“If you can spare the time, the tour of the farm will take only a few minutes,” Maryanna spoke up from behind them.

Despite the few suspicious glances prior, Maryanna seemed genuine and so very kind in her invitation.

“Little Sarah can’t seem to get enough of ya,” Maryanna continued. “You’re truly welcome to stay.”

“It
does
sound like fun,” Jodi said, glad when Leda fell into step with her, too. Jodi and Maryanna’s two girls headed across the yard, past the now familiar hand pump, toward the chicken coop.

“Since my sister doesn’t speak English yet, I’ll come along so you’ll know what she’s sayin’.”

“Thanks, Leda.”

“I’ll catch up on my chores later,” Leda added.

Jodi was taken by her courtesy, so uncommon in a child. Was this typical of all Amish youngsters?

To think she was getting an astonishing firsthand glimpse into this unique culture Scott and Paige found so appealing. Jodi pinched herself to see if she was merely sleepwalking. But, no, she remained just as firmly planted in the dreamlike setting around her. It was as if she was somehow destined to stumble upon little Sarah Esh this morning, sleeping by the roadside.

––

Maryanna inched away from the door after Sarah coaxed Jodi toward the hen house, with a bit of help from Leda. Honestly, she didn’t know whether to smile or frown. The bond between her youngest and Jodi was ever stronger, and Maryanna felt helpless to interfere.

Mollie came over and stood next to her, tea towel in hand. “Relax—the young woman’s harmless, far as I can tell.”

“I
am
grateful to her.” Maryanna sighed. “God does work in mystifying ways, using an Englischer to find Sarah, when our own men couldn’t!”

“For certain.”

“Still, she’s an outsider.”

Mollie nodded. “Yet the children are clearly fond of her. You saw how Benny and Tobias—”

“Jah, I did.”

“I daresay Sarah’s drawn to her ‘cause she brought her back to you. That’s all.”

“If so, I can’t blame her,” Maryanna said, not entirely convinced. “I just pray that’s the reason, and it’s not because Jodi’s right fancy.”

Mollie agreed. “So what should we do?”

“Well, the Good Lord brought her into our lives, so I won’t stand in His way.” Maryanna returned to the sink and ran hot water on the dishcloth, then scrubbed the table clean while Mollie swept the floor.

Later, Preacher Yoder and his wife, Lovina, dropped in to check on Maryanna, asking specifically about little Sarah.

“Oh, she’s just fine, out with her sister showing off the greenhouse to the young woman who found her,” Maryanna said, appreciating the kindly gesture. She offered some cold meadow tea and sweets, and they stayed for a brief yet comforting visit.

“
Der Molligrobbe,
” Sarah was saying as she tugged on Leda’s apron.

“Do ya really think Jodi wants to see those ugly tadpoles?” Leda asked Sarah first in Deitsch, then grinned as she repeated it in English for Jodi’s benefit. “You can show Joshua Peachey, maybe … next time he’s around. Or our boy cousins.”

But Sarah shook her head and babbled further.

“Jah, we’ll go to the greenhouse next,” Leda said softly, again translating everything. “Besides, Jodi might have other things to do today, ya know.” She repeated it in Deitsch for Sarah, or so Jodi thought.

Little Sarah’s face turned sad at that. “Nee.”

Even without a translation, Jodi chuckled at this. “I can stay awhile longer,” she said.

Leda recited that in Deitsch, and Sarah’s frown quickly vanished. Then, turning to Jodi, Leda said, “My sister tends to get her way with most folk.”

“I can see why.”

“With Mamma, too.”

Jodi nodded, unable to suppress a smile. “She’s one determined little girl.”

“‘Tis true.” Leda pointed toward the small greenhouse, set back from the hen house. “Our father built this,” she said. “And Mamma’s ever so glad. She loves working out here.”

Wondering if it was also their livelihood, Jodi followed Leda while Sarah continued to clutch her hand. “Do you also farm your land?”

“We rent it to another Amish family … for now.”

Along the exterior of the greenhouse, Jodi noticed a row of pots where golden mums were beginning to sprout. “Do you sell lots of these?” she asked.

“Oh jah,” Leda said. “And other plants, too, ‘specially seedlings. But no tobacco plants. Mamma’s a stickler ‘bout that.”

Considering Leda’s remark, Jodi headed inside the smallish greenhouse, where the loamy smells of plant life reminded her of her father’s own green thumb.
Wouldn’t Dad be surprised to see me here?
She realized then that she hadn’t told her parents her lousy news. But real life could wait. She would text or email them tonight about her job loss.

“Mamma’s got some perennials on sale,” Leda said. “This late in the summer, ya know.”

Jodi gazed enviously at the beautiful flowers, as well as the lush houseplants—several large ferns in hanging baskets and numerous potted African violets, and a few leftover annuals.
There were also cauliflower, celery, cabbage, and broccoli plants for the fall planting, in addition to birdseed and plant fertilizer for sale.

“Our vegetable garden needs watering every day ‘cause of the heat.”

“I noticed a number of road stands when I came in.” Jodi was dying to ask if anyone ever helped themselves to the contents of the money box, but she thought better of it.

“Jah, most of us sell our extra produce pretty cheap,” explained Leda. “Mamma says we don’t have to make lots of money from our customers.”

So the Amish didn’t sound at all like modern businesspeople. Were they really not interested in getting the most for their produce? Though foreign to everything she knew, Jodi found this approach refreshing.

“Come outside a bit,” Leda said after showing her around. “Sarah will pout if she doesn’t show you the tadpoles.”

“Molligrobbe, right?” Jodi teased.

A stream of giggles poured from Sarah, and she wrapped her arms around Jodi’s knees.

Jodi patted the tight bun on the back of Sarah’s head. “Can’t miss out on seeing those slimy critters,” Jodi said as she caught Leda’s eye. “Need to keep everyone happy, right?”

Leda offered a knowing smile.

Jodi walked along the small walkway, a mosaic of stepping-stones, around to the side of the greenhouse and out toward the pastureland, where two horses and several ponies grazed. Sunshine spilled over the idyllic scene, creating shadows under the branches of willow trees and in the tall grass growing along the perimeter of the pond. And in that moment, she understood why little Sarah loved to seek out the tadpoles. As for herself, Jodi couldn’t recall a more wonderful afternoon.
Not at all what she’d expected following the bad news from her principal.

When Jodi and the girls returned to the house, Maryanna met them on the back porch with flour on her hands and cheeks. “Did ya have a nice look around?” She held out her arms to her daughters.

“I just had a crash course on hens and egg gathering,” Jodi said, adding that she’d enjoyed the sights and smells of the greenhouse, too. “Oh, and I saw Sarah’s tadpoles, as well.”

Jodi thanked Leda and Sarah, and waited for Maryanna to say when she wanted to have their private talk. “I don’t want to keep you,” Jodi said. “You’re obviously very busy.”

“As
you
must be,” Maryanna added. “You really didn’t intend to spend all day with an Amish family, did ya, now?”

Jodi laughed. “It’s been truly wonderful.”

Maryanna brushed her hands on her black apron, leaving more floury handprints. “Come—let’s go out toward the road. It’ll take but a minute.”

Leda quickly took Sarah inside, even though Maryanna hadn’t prompted them.
Is everyone in perfect sync here?
Jodi wondered.

“I hope ya know how thankful I am to you,” Maryanna began, her dress flapping against her shins.

“I did what anyone would’ve—Sarah’s absolutely adorable.”

“Even so, it’s hard to think of anyone kinder.”

“I guess I was in the right place at the right time.”

Seeming less hesitant now that they were alone, Maryanna asked her a series of questions, including how Sarah could be so clean after a night of wandering about. Jodi was happy
to reveal everything, as well as how she’d tried to discover whether Sarah had been reported missing. “I attempted to put myself in your shoes as her mother. I couldn’t imagine anyone abandoning a child.”

“Did ya think she was kidnapped?” asked Maryanna as they went.

“It crossed my mind.”

“All of us were prayin’, for sure and for certain.”

“I would have, too.” Jodi caught herself.

“And God covets our prayers every day, rain or shine. In
gut
and bad times.”

Jodi could just hear Trent saying something comparable.
Karen too.

“The Lord knows we forget to be thankful when things are goin’ well,” Maryanna said, lowering her voice. “Yet He still forgives.”

Jodi didn’t clench up as she did when her parents talked this way. There was something so gentle and down-to-earth about Maryanna and her view of God.

“Just think of a mother craving her child’s love and only receiving it when the little one skins her knee or is hungry and wants something to eat. What sort of relationship would that be?”

Jodi heartily agreed.

They walked farther, not saying a word, but it felt natural, like they didn’t need to fill the gaps of silence.

“It’s almost blissful here,” Jodi said at last.

“Folk tend to say that about Hickory Hollow. Maybe it’s just quieter round here.”

“Because of the lack of cars?”

Maryanna nodded. “The horse sets our pace—the tempo of our lives. When he stops for water and feed, we stop and pause
for breakfast, and then the noon meal. When he needs to rest on a hot afternoon, we, too, have a natural break in the course of our daily routine. And like horses, we go to sleep early and rise with the dawn.”

The idea of a life based on such simple rhythms did have its appeal.

“We ofttimes ask the dear Lord to help us be ever gentle with His creatures—to be
gut
shepherds of everything entrusted to us.”

The dear Lord,
thought Jodi.

“The best way to repay our animals—they toil so hard alongside us—is to give them our kindness.”

“I’ve never thought of it quite like that, but it certainly makes sense.” Jodi shared how she’d always been fond of animals, especially pets like cats and canaries.