praised Gott ’s timing. A visit
from her was just what she needed. She opened the door and stepped outside. Her forehead
began to perspire, and the sun wasn’t even up. Yet she waited for Nellie in the heat.
“ Gut morning, you!” Nellie climbed out and handed Lucy the reins to tie onto the
hitching post Sam had carved from an old hickory tree. She held the brown suede bag
in which she kept her quilting materials. This one was larger than others Lucy had
seen.
“You’re here early.” Lucy didn’t mind, but Sam might. Anything that took time from
the farm was more than frowned upon.
“I’ll help with your chores.” She tucked a finger under Lucy’s chin and looked into
her eyes. “You look tired.” Nellie shook her head. “I understand your situation,
but definitely don’t agree with it. I have little patience for Sam’s treatment of
you.”
“But complaining only makes things worse.” Lucy whispered, in hopes Nellie would
do the same.
Nellie lifted a hand. “I know. That’s why I’ll just bite my tongue and stay out of
his path.”
“I’m always tired these days, with this little one keeping me up at night.” Lucy
opened the door for Nellie, and they walked into the kitchen. “Sam already ate, but
there are plenty of pancakes if you’re hungry.”
She knew the look in Nellie’s eyes, and averted hers. Lucy was worn out of . . .
well, just about everything right now. She didn’t have the energy to do much but
keep food on the table and try to make it through the day without taking a nap.
“I’ve eaten. Your mammi doesn’t give anyone a choice.” She walked through the kitchen.
“Let’s sit in the family room.” Nellie sat and placed the bag on the floor next to
her. “Are you up to quilting?” Her brow furrowed as she studied Lucy’s face.
“ Jah , I’m fine.” Lucy wasn’t, but of all the quilters she knew, Nellie was the best
around, and she always learned something new from her.
“You can’t fool me. You look exhausted.” The lines in Nellie’s forehead deepened,
and she shook her head. “And it’s not just the baby. You’re only halfway through
your last trimester.”
Lucy rubbed her eyes, keeping the tears away. “Why didn’t you ever get married, Nellie?”
“Funny you should ask. I took a different path.” Nellie glanced down, grabbed the
bag, and set it beside her on the couch. The large satchel was filled to the brim.
Lucy examined it. “That’s a big bag.”
“It’s a big story.” She pulled out one of the largest quilts Lucy had ever seen.
Lucy tilted her head, thinking back to her question about marriage. “What other path
is there?”
Nellie smiled. “I’ll show you.”
Lucy took one end of the quilt, marveling at the variety of colors, shapes, and sizes.
The elaborate decoration and thoughtful design were like none Lucy had ever set her
eyes on. “I could spend hours looking at this quilt. Who made this with you?”
“Only me.” Nellie’s smile showed pride. Even though she was not well looked upon
in their community, how could she not feel proud of such an incredible piece of art?
Lucy gave her a look. “How can you have possibly done all of this by yourself?”
“I made a profession of quilting.”
Lucy puzzled over how that could happen. It sounded too . . . English. “How can that
be? We sell them at the mud sales, but do you mean a real business?”
Nellie nodded. “People came from all around to purchase them. Eventually I needed
more room, and I rented a store.”
Lucy’s mouth dropped. This was unreal. That Nellie could be so independent and support
herself dumbfounded her. “You did? Where?”
“Right here in Lititz.” She turned to look at Lucy. “I expected you to be surprised,
but not this much.”
Lucy shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t doubt you could do that, especially without
a family to tend to. I’m just surprised I never knew about it.”
“Things got a little messy with the bishop.
from her was just what she needed. She opened the door and stepped outside. Her forehead
began to perspire, and the sun wasn’t even up. Yet she waited for Nellie in the heat.
“ Gut morning, you!” Nellie climbed out and handed Lucy the reins to tie onto the
hitching post Sam had carved from an old hickory tree. She held the brown suede bag
in which she kept her quilting materials. This one was larger than others Lucy had
seen.
“You’re here early.” Lucy didn’t mind, but Sam might. Anything that took time from
the farm was more than frowned upon.
“I’ll help with your chores.” She tucked a finger under Lucy’s chin and looked into
her eyes. “You look tired.” Nellie shook her head. “I understand your situation,
but definitely don’t agree with it. I have little patience for Sam’s treatment of
you.”
“But complaining only makes things worse.” Lucy whispered, in hopes Nellie would
do the same.
Nellie lifted a hand. “I know. That’s why I’ll just bite my tongue and stay out of
his path.”
“I’m always tired these days, with this little one keeping me up at night.” Lucy
opened the door for Nellie, and they walked into the kitchen. “Sam already ate, but
there are plenty of pancakes if you’re hungry.”
She knew the look in Nellie’s eyes, and averted hers. Lucy was worn out of . . .
well, just about everything right now. She didn’t have the energy to do much but
keep food on the table and try to make it through the day without taking a nap.
“I’ve eaten. Your mammi doesn’t give anyone a choice.” She walked through the kitchen.
“Let’s sit in the family room.” Nellie sat and placed the bag on the floor next to
her. “Are you up to quilting?” Her brow furrowed as she studied Lucy’s face.
“ Jah , I’m fine.” Lucy wasn’t, but of all the quilters she knew, Nellie was the best
around, and she always learned something new from her.
“You can’t fool me. You look exhausted.” The lines in Nellie’s forehead deepened,
and she shook her head. “And it’s not just the baby. You’re only halfway through
your last trimester.”
Lucy rubbed her eyes, keeping the tears away. “Why didn’t you ever get married, Nellie?”
“Funny you should ask. I took a different path.” Nellie glanced down, grabbed the
bag, and set it beside her on the couch. The large satchel was filled to the brim.
Lucy examined it. “That’s a big bag.”
“It’s a big story.” She pulled out one of the largest quilts Lucy had ever seen.
Lucy tilted her head, thinking back to her question about marriage. “What other path
is there?”
Nellie smiled. “I’ll show you.”
Lucy took one end of the quilt, marveling at the variety of colors, shapes, and sizes.
The elaborate decoration and thoughtful design were like none Lucy had ever set her
eyes on. “I could spend hours looking at this quilt. Who made this with you?”
“Only me.” Nellie’s smile showed pride. Even though she was not well looked upon
in their community, how could she not feel proud of such an incredible piece of art?
Lucy gave her a look. “How can you have possibly done all of this by yourself?”
“I made a profession of quilting.”
Lucy puzzled over how that could happen. It sounded too . . . English. “How can that
be? We sell them at the mud sales, but do you mean a real business?”
Nellie nodded. “People came from all around to purchase them. Eventually I needed
more room, and I rented a store.”
Lucy’s mouth dropped. This was unreal. That Nellie could be so independent and support
herself dumbfounded her. “You did? Where?”
“Right here in Lititz.” She turned to look at Lucy. “I expected you to be surprised,
but not this much.”
Lucy shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t doubt you could do that, especially without
a family to tend to. I’m just surprised I never knew about it.”
“Things got a little messy with the bishop.
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