can.
As for the Englischers and that camera of theirs, you mustn’t worry
81
that you did any sinning. On the con trary, really. I don’t know how many tourists I’ve run into, even as a grown woman, who are picture-happy. It’s their fault, not mine. My, my, they just don’t seem to have any manners, pointing cameras at Plain folk. Now, you mustn’t fret over such a thing. God’s love continues to shine down on you. Remember that always.
Essie says “hullo” just now as I’m writing. She’s ever so busy here, helping me with the younger children, cleaning and cooking, and often goes out with Dat, working the mules in the field.
We miss you, but trust the good Lord to take care of you while we’re absent one from the other.
Love, Mare
Ella Mae set the letter aside on the bu reau to read again later, before bedtime.
Essie’s workin” the mules with Dat,she thought.Poor girl.
Well, now, maybe helping out here wasn’t so bad, after all. Worst thing she could think of was working one row after another, the boiling sun scorching you near to death. ‘Least with picking or
82
the sun now and then, slip under a shade
tree . . drink a nice tall glass of cold lemonade.
Jah, ‘twas good of Mam to write. Yet seeing the familiar handwriting stirred up the homesickness even more. Fighting back tears, she headed downstairs for evening prayers.
At breakfast the next morning, Mammi lined out the activities of the day. “We’ll weed all the flower beds … the marigolds in the window boxes, too.”
Ella Mae was glad to hear it, ready for a change of pace. Gardening was lots more fun than picking strawberries or shelling peas. But she would work hard, earn her keep and then some for Dawdi to send home to her parents.
She sensed that something had changed in her. She felt wonderful-gut, knowin’ she was truly helping her family by staying the summer long. And being cheerful ‘bout it helpedher.
Seemed that’s how it was during all the rest of July and August, her settlin’ into a routine of hard work on the farm, occasional baby-sitting for the Mennonite children down the road, long nights of rest for her weary body, church attendance on
83Sunday, and twice, a visit from Mamma. Dat, and the family. After their first visit. she decided it wasn’t such a bad thing: them comin’ to see her and then leaving: not takin’ her home just yet. ‘Twasn’l nearly so hard as she thought, actually took the edge off her homesickness.
Come the second visit, well, summer’s toil was nearly past. School would be starting and she’d be going home…
Ella Mae moved away from the window glancing at the day clock over her kitchen stove. Wouldn’t be but a minute and het great-grandchildren would come a-scurrying inside, eager for an afternoon snack She’d give ‘em homemade cookies fro the big apple-shaped jar on the counter maybe slip some chocolate syrup into thei tall glasses of milk. Jah, today she would spoil them just a bit hardworkin’ wee souls, they were. Make a fuss over the children, whose faces were tender and true who looked you straight in the eye whet they talked, whose little features bore the semblance and down-to-earth honesty o: their parents and their parents’ kin before them.
She thought,My, oh my, wouldn’t my husband be mighty pleased if he were aliw
84today our great-grandyoung’uns raking them leaves, tidying the place up. Dirt under their fingernails.
Smiling, she opened the back door, wel coming the laughter of her grandchildren’s offspring and the changing of the seasons both, her hands still a-reekin’ of God’s green earth.
85
4
B njamin
Rejoice, 0 young man, in thy youth; and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes: but know thou, that for all these things God will bring thee into judgment.
— Ecclesiastes 11: 9
Awakening to darkness, Katie, in a dreamy stupor, thought surely she was back
As for the Englischers and that camera of theirs, you mustn’t worry
81
that you did any sinning. On the con trary, really. I don’t know how many tourists I’ve run into, even as a grown woman, who are picture-happy. It’s their fault, not mine. My, my, they just don’t seem to have any manners, pointing cameras at Plain folk. Now, you mustn’t fret over such a thing. God’s love continues to shine down on you. Remember that always.
Essie says “hullo” just now as I’m writing. She’s ever so busy here, helping me with the younger children, cleaning and cooking, and often goes out with Dat, working the mules in the field.
We miss you, but trust the good Lord to take care of you while we’re absent one from the other.
Love, Mare
Ella Mae set the letter aside on the bu reau to read again later, before bedtime.
Essie’s workin” the mules with Dat,she thought.Poor girl.
Well, now, maybe helping out here wasn’t so bad, after all. Worst thing she could think of was working one row after another, the boiling sun scorching you near to death. ‘Least with picking or
82
the sun now and then, slip under a shade
tree . . drink a nice tall glass of cold lemonade.
Jah, ‘twas good of Mam to write. Yet seeing the familiar handwriting stirred up the homesickness even more. Fighting back tears, she headed downstairs for evening prayers.
At breakfast the next morning, Mammi lined out the activities of the day. “We’ll weed all the flower beds … the marigolds in the window boxes, too.”
Ella Mae was glad to hear it, ready for a change of pace. Gardening was lots more fun than picking strawberries or shelling peas. But she would work hard, earn her keep and then some for Dawdi to send home to her parents.
She sensed that something had changed in her. She felt wonderful-gut, knowin’ she was truly helping her family by staying the summer long. And being cheerful ‘bout it helpedher.
Seemed that’s how it was during all the rest of July and August, her settlin’ into a routine of hard work on the farm, occasional baby-sitting for the Mennonite children down the road, long nights of rest for her weary body, church attendance on
83Sunday, and twice, a visit from Mamma. Dat, and the family. After their first visit. she decided it wasn’t such a bad thing: them comin’ to see her and then leaving: not takin’ her home just yet. ‘Twasn’l nearly so hard as she thought, actually took the edge off her homesickness.
Come the second visit, well, summer’s toil was nearly past. School would be starting and she’d be going home…
Ella Mae moved away from the window glancing at the day clock over her kitchen stove. Wouldn’t be but a minute and het great-grandchildren would come a-scurrying inside, eager for an afternoon snack She’d give ‘em homemade cookies fro the big apple-shaped jar on the counter maybe slip some chocolate syrup into thei tall glasses of milk. Jah, today she would spoil them just a bit hardworkin’ wee souls, they were. Make a fuss over the children, whose faces were tender and true who looked you straight in the eye whet they talked, whose little features bore the semblance and down-to-earth honesty o: their parents and their parents’ kin before them.
She thought,My, oh my, wouldn’t my husband be mighty pleased if he were aliw
84today our great-grandyoung’uns raking them leaves, tidying the place up. Dirt under their fingernails.
Smiling, she opened the back door, wel coming the laughter of her grandchildren’s offspring and the changing of the seasons both, her hands still a-reekin’ of God’s green earth.
85
4
B njamin
Rejoice, 0 young man, in thy youth; and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes: but know thou, that for all these things God will bring thee into judgment.
— Ecclesiastes 11: 9
Awakening to darkness, Katie, in a dreamy stupor, thought surely she was back
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