boundaries.
He was ready to obey those boundaries now—the Ordnung, the church rules, the customs that were like Amish law. Submission was the key to
Gelassenheit
, bowing to the Almighty.
As he leaned into the buggy to replace his tool box, the sound of a horse’s hooves on pavement caught his attention. A buggy was coming down the road. The kapp of its driver seemed white as snow in the stark sunlight.
Such a familiar sight; another comfort of being home. It was good to wake each morning to the language and manner he was accustomed to.
Even if he did wake up in his old bed in his parents’ house. Twenty-nine was too old for that, and he was eager to find a place of his own as soon as he could get a job and save some money.
Not that his parents minded having him. “It’s good to have you home, Zed,” his mother always said, “but I know it’s just for a short time. Before you know it, you’ll be leaving for your own place with your wife.” Mamm liked to remind him that he would be expected to take an Amish wife after he was baptized in the fall.
“Wife?” Dat always teased. “Don’t put the cart before the horse, Rose. He needs to find a willing gal first.”
“And what Amish woman would have me?” Zed would answer, poking fun at himself. “I’m like the apple that fell off the cart on the way to market—a little scarred and hard to sell.”
That usually made Dat laugh, though Mamm would swat away the comment as if it were a pesky gnat. Zed couldn’t tell his mother that he had already encountered a few interested young women. Becca Yoder always came over to talk with him after church, but talking with her was tedious work, like digging up potatoes. And he knew what Mamm was doing when she sent him to the bakery each week for a loaf of bread. Rose Miller spent plenty of time in town; she could have easily made the purchase. The bread wasn’t nearly as important to his mamm as getting Zed to talk to Dorcas Fisher, a woman Zed had grown up with who was still single and at least thirty. Zed had always avoided her as a kid, hearing the way she criticized other children at school, and the stories she told. Dorcas still liked to gossip. These days the Fishers’ bakery had more news than
The Budget
, the local Amish newspaper.
There was no shortage of unmarried women. It was Zed holding things up, his thoughts still wrapped up in the life he used to have … the woman he used to love.
A woman who had chosen another. Although Jessica was married with a child, living a hundred miles away, Zed had trouble chasing her from his mind. Sometimes it was hard to move down the road when the heart lagged so far behind the head.
6
S uch a glorious day! Fanny smiled through her weariness as Flicker’s hooves tapped the asphalt road. Despite all the obstacles, a new baby boy had been born. Another sweet child in their community! Ah, but Gott had truly blessed Fanny, allowing her to help deliver new babes.
Squinting through the heat shimmering up from the black road, Fanny tried to identify the man walking around her house. Not Caleb, but Zed Miller. How could she have forgotten? Bishop Samuel had told her Zed would be coming out this morning to take a look at the old carriage house with an eye toward repairs. Caleb and Elsie would have gone to work, but where were Emma and the young ones?
He met her in front of the buggy garage, tipping his hat back as she brought the horse to a halt.
“Zed, I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I just came from Market Joe and Lizzy’s, where there’s a new baby boy in the house. John King.”
“Good news. I’m sure they’re both full of joy.”
“They are. You should stop by on your way home. They’d love to see you.” Fanny knew Zed had a special bond with Lizzy and Market Joe, ties wrought in the highway accident.
“I just might.”
Fanny turned around to check on Tommy, but Zed was already reaching into the backseat of the buggy, lifting out the infant chair as
He was ready to obey those boundaries now—the Ordnung, the church rules, the customs that were like Amish law. Submission was the key to
Gelassenheit
, bowing to the Almighty.
As he leaned into the buggy to replace his tool box, the sound of a horse’s hooves on pavement caught his attention. A buggy was coming down the road. The kapp of its driver seemed white as snow in the stark sunlight.
Such a familiar sight; another comfort of being home. It was good to wake each morning to the language and manner he was accustomed to.
Even if he did wake up in his old bed in his parents’ house. Twenty-nine was too old for that, and he was eager to find a place of his own as soon as he could get a job and save some money.
Not that his parents minded having him. “It’s good to have you home, Zed,” his mother always said, “but I know it’s just for a short time. Before you know it, you’ll be leaving for your own place with your wife.” Mamm liked to remind him that he would be expected to take an Amish wife after he was baptized in the fall.
“Wife?” Dat always teased. “Don’t put the cart before the horse, Rose. He needs to find a willing gal first.”
“And what Amish woman would have me?” Zed would answer, poking fun at himself. “I’m like the apple that fell off the cart on the way to market—a little scarred and hard to sell.”
That usually made Dat laugh, though Mamm would swat away the comment as if it were a pesky gnat. Zed couldn’t tell his mother that he had already encountered a few interested young women. Becca Yoder always came over to talk with him after church, but talking with her was tedious work, like digging up potatoes. And he knew what Mamm was doing when she sent him to the bakery each week for a loaf of bread. Rose Miller spent plenty of time in town; she could have easily made the purchase. The bread wasn’t nearly as important to his mamm as getting Zed to talk to Dorcas Fisher, a woman Zed had grown up with who was still single and at least thirty. Zed had always avoided her as a kid, hearing the way she criticized other children at school, and the stories she told. Dorcas still liked to gossip. These days the Fishers’ bakery had more news than
The Budget
, the local Amish newspaper.
There was no shortage of unmarried women. It was Zed holding things up, his thoughts still wrapped up in the life he used to have … the woman he used to love.
A woman who had chosen another. Although Jessica was married with a child, living a hundred miles away, Zed had trouble chasing her from his mind. Sometimes it was hard to move down the road when the heart lagged so far behind the head.
6
S uch a glorious day! Fanny smiled through her weariness as Flicker’s hooves tapped the asphalt road. Despite all the obstacles, a new baby boy had been born. Another sweet child in their community! Ah, but Gott had truly blessed Fanny, allowing her to help deliver new babes.
Squinting through the heat shimmering up from the black road, Fanny tried to identify the man walking around her house. Not Caleb, but Zed Miller. How could she have forgotten? Bishop Samuel had told her Zed would be coming out this morning to take a look at the old carriage house with an eye toward repairs. Caleb and Elsie would have gone to work, but where were Emma and the young ones?
He met her in front of the buggy garage, tipping his hat back as she brought the horse to a halt.
“Zed, I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I just came from Market Joe and Lizzy’s, where there’s a new baby boy in the house. John King.”
“Good news. I’m sure they’re both full of joy.”
“They are. You should stop by on your way home. They’d love to see you.” Fanny knew Zed had a special bond with Lizzy and Market Joe, ties wrought in the highway accident.
“I just might.”
Fanny turned around to check on Tommy, but Zed was already reaching into the backseat of the buggy, lifting out the infant chair as
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