Amish Circle Letters by Sarah Price

she’s with the Lord.”
    It sounded weak, even as he said it. They both knew it was the right thing to say, but neither could believe it.
    “Are you?”
    “Am I what?” he asked.
    “Happy that she’s with the Lord?”
    He met her gaze. For the longest moment, he couldn’t answer her. It seemed as though he was thinking but was gaining strength from both her question, her presence and her stare. Finally, he took a deep breath and exhaled. “ Nee , Katie Fisher ,” he said. “ Nee, I’m not happy. In fact, I’m angry that the Lord would take my mamm away from me. I don’t understand it and I don’t understand what people are saying to me. I miss her.” He paused and moved his eyes to stare down at his feet. Then, in the softest voice, almost inaudible, he whispered, “I want her back.”
    For a moment, she thought she hadn’t heard him. She had to repeat the words to herself. I want her back. Katie chewed on her lower lip. Yes, she had heard him say those very words. Four simple words that said so much about how he felt. She didn’t blame him. After all, that’s how she figured she would feel if something horrible happened to her own mamm, even if she hadn’t been there to witness it. Yes, she would certainly feel plenty confused, a lot bitter, and a whole heap of loneliness. She reached her hand out and touched his. To her surprise, he let her hold his soft hand in hers.
    “Melvin Yoder,” she said softly. “I do understand.”
     
     
    Rachel sat for a long time, sitting in her reading chair, an old plush rocking chair that creaked ever so slightly when it rolled backward. The kerosene lantern that hung overhead hissed as it flung its bright light throughout the room. On her lap was her Bible but she simply couldn’t open it tonight. Instead, she just held it, feeling her strength return just from the mere touch of its worn, faded leather cover.
    Her heart ached for the Yoder family. It had been a grueling few days. She shut her eyes and silently prayed for Menno and his children. It would be a rough road ahead of Menno, especially with small children that needed tending to. There would be laundry and cooking, gardening and canning. The community would help, as much as they could, that was for sure and certain. But it would still be very stressful for the family.
    She was proud of Mary Ruth for having helped with the young boy. As the youngest child in the family, Mary Ruth was used to being taken care of, it seemed to Rachel…much more than caring for others. The compassion that Mary Ruth demonstrated at the Yoders was a small blessing in this sorrowful event.
    She shut her eyes. Tomorrow was another day. Lydia would finally help her with the chickens and it was another laundry day. On a farm, there was never a break in the work routine. It continued, whether or not life stopped around it. At least it was something that could be counted on, she thought to herself. The routine of farm life, however demanding.
    With a big sigh, she glanced over at her husband. He was seated in the chair next to her, the Budget newspaper in his hands. “Think I’ll be turning in for the night, Elijah,” she whispered. “Need a good night’s sleep for tomorrow.”
    He nodded. “I’ll be up shortly,” he said. “Need to finish my reading.”
    She smiled. “You and your Budget!”
    He smiled at her. “You have your circle letters to keep you in touch with everyone and I have my Budget to keep updated on plantings, crops, and other news.”
    Walking over to him, she placed her hand on his shoulder. He paused and looked up at her. Then, setting the paper down, he reached for her hand. For a long moment, he held it, staring at her. The only noises were the hiss from the kerosene lantern and the gentle ticking of the old clock on the wall. It had been a gift from Elijah to Rachel when there were married.
    Rachel studied Elijah’s face. It was weathered and wrinkled from working in the sun. Over the years, his beard