a seat in the back and refused to budge from it.
How ironic—or maybe it was blessed—that he was seated so close to Caroline. He couldn’t have planned that better even if he had tried.
With a happy smile, he opened his hymn book and prepared to sing.
Somewhere toward the middle of the service, Emma grew fussy. She was such a sweet baby that she didn’t create too much ruckus, though Andrew could tell Caroline was concerned that her daughter was making it hard on the others around them to hear the preacher.
She gathered Emma in her arms and quietly stood, taking her to the back of the barn.
In all honesty, Andrew didn’t think Emma was that noisy. In fact, if he hadn’t been seated directly across from her, he wouldn’t have even heard the child’s whimpering cries.
But Caroline’s concern for those around her was just part of her makeup. She was conscious of others. Andrew smiled to himself as he remembered her slamming her hands on her hips and demanding that he take the bed his uncle had made for her back to the shop. She hadn’t wanted it, not because it wasn’t beautiful enough or wasn’t made correctly, like some of the Englisch complaints might be. Nay , she hadn’t wanted to keep it because it cost too much money and she didn’t want Esther to spend it on her.
But Andrew peeked into the bakery every time he passed these days. Caroline worked hard for Esther. He couldn’t think of anyone more deserving of the beautiful cherry-wood furniture.
He resisted the urge to turn and see if Caroline was in the back of the barn or if she had taken Emma outside for a breath of fresh air. Instead, he tried to focus his attention on the service. A few seats in front of him, Johnny Yoder stood and accepted his infant son from his wife Mary.
Caroline didn’t have anyone to help with Emma. Well, no one except Esther. And Andrew couldn’t help but wonder why she had never remarried. Most women would have already found another. That was just how the Amish life worked. Accepting God’s will and getting on with living.
Caroline was hardworking, caring, and gentle, beautiful even. And he was surprised that none of the Amish men surrounding him had tried to take her hand and start a life together.
Caroline returned to her seat a few moments later, a flushed and sleeping Emma in her arms.
She looked to him and smiled, and Andrew felt his heart expand with the simple serenity of it all, sweet mother, sweet child. It was a beautiful sight.
He turned his gaze back to the front and tried his best not to be so aware of every little move she made. But he couldn’t help his bubbling excitement at the afternoon they had planned. His uncle was another so deserving of love, yet not finding it. Jah , it was going to be a gut afternoon, for sure.
As they stood for the final prayer before dismissal, Andrew fully realized why it was customary for the men and women to sit on opposite sides during church. Being so close to Caroline was more than distracting. He just hoped no one wanted to discuss the sermon later. He couldn’t remember a word.
Dear Caroline,
Words cannot express the joy I feel when I see your name in the mailbox. I have taken to running to meet the postman as soon as I hear him coming down the road.
I have to hide your letters from your father. He still cannot speak your name, nor will he allow anyone else to do so in his presence. I hope you understand that his anger stems from love and one day he will be accepting (though I don’t think he will ever be happy about it). That is my nightly prayer, that his acceptance come soon. Then you will be able to return and join us here once again.
Along with your letters I have hidden the picture of Emma. I only allow myself to take it out once a week when your father goes into town. Even then, it has started to show creases and wear. Of course the bishop knows nothing about it. He is such a gut man that I hate to have secrets, but this one is best kept
How ironic—or maybe it was blessed—that he was seated so close to Caroline. He couldn’t have planned that better even if he had tried.
With a happy smile, he opened his hymn book and prepared to sing.
Somewhere toward the middle of the service, Emma grew fussy. She was such a sweet baby that she didn’t create too much ruckus, though Andrew could tell Caroline was concerned that her daughter was making it hard on the others around them to hear the preacher.
She gathered Emma in her arms and quietly stood, taking her to the back of the barn.
In all honesty, Andrew didn’t think Emma was that noisy. In fact, if he hadn’t been seated directly across from her, he wouldn’t have even heard the child’s whimpering cries.
But Caroline’s concern for those around her was just part of her makeup. She was conscious of others. Andrew smiled to himself as he remembered her slamming her hands on her hips and demanding that he take the bed his uncle had made for her back to the shop. She hadn’t wanted it, not because it wasn’t beautiful enough or wasn’t made correctly, like some of the Englisch complaints might be. Nay , she hadn’t wanted to keep it because it cost too much money and she didn’t want Esther to spend it on her.
But Andrew peeked into the bakery every time he passed these days. Caroline worked hard for Esther. He couldn’t think of anyone more deserving of the beautiful cherry-wood furniture.
He resisted the urge to turn and see if Caroline was in the back of the barn or if she had taken Emma outside for a breath of fresh air. Instead, he tried to focus his attention on the service. A few seats in front of him, Johnny Yoder stood and accepted his infant son from his wife Mary.
Caroline didn’t have anyone to help with Emma. Well, no one except Esther. And Andrew couldn’t help but wonder why she had never remarried. Most women would have already found another. That was just how the Amish life worked. Accepting God’s will and getting on with living.
Caroline was hardworking, caring, and gentle, beautiful even. And he was surprised that none of the Amish men surrounding him had tried to take her hand and start a life together.
Caroline returned to her seat a few moments later, a flushed and sleeping Emma in her arms.
She looked to him and smiled, and Andrew felt his heart expand with the simple serenity of it all, sweet mother, sweet child. It was a beautiful sight.
He turned his gaze back to the front and tried his best not to be so aware of every little move she made. But he couldn’t help his bubbling excitement at the afternoon they had planned. His uncle was another so deserving of love, yet not finding it. Jah , it was going to be a gut afternoon, for sure.
As they stood for the final prayer before dismissal, Andrew fully realized why it was customary for the men and women to sit on opposite sides during church. Being so close to Caroline was more than distracting. He just hoped no one wanted to discuss the sermon later. He couldn’t remember a word.
Dear Caroline,
Words cannot express the joy I feel when I see your name in the mailbox. I have taken to running to meet the postman as soon as I hear him coming down the road.
I have to hide your letters from your father. He still cannot speak your name, nor will he allow anyone else to do so in his presence. I hope you understand that his anger stems from love and one day he will be accepting (though I don’t think he will ever be happy about it). That is my nightly prayer, that his acceptance come soon. Then you will be able to return and join us here once again.
Along with your letters I have hidden the picture of Emma. I only allow myself to take it out once a week when your father goes into town. Even then, it has started to show creases and wear. Of course the bishop knows nothing about it. He is such a gut man that I hate to have secrets, but this one is best kept
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