Sadie hadn’t slept a wink. She’d tossed and turned all night, considering everything that had happened the night before—her words, Eli’s words, Opa’s words. Had she jumped to conclusions? What if Eli had been telling the truth? What if he hadn’t made the connection? And . . . what if his opa had been more concerned about his grandson than the seeds? If that was the case, she’d just ruined everything in one fell swoop.
As soon as the morning light came, Sadie headed outside to pick her tomatoes. Suddenly nothing mattered as much to her as picking the first ones, heading inside, and following the step-by-step instructions in her mother’s garden journal on how to save the seeds.
There was a gentle pink glow of light extending over the mountains. She walked out onto the porch, noticing something moving across the yard. A bear! Goliath! She’d recognize his playful gait anywhere. And along with him, he was trailing something—part of her fence! She cried out, but the bear didn’t stop. Instead, he picked up speed, and the fencing uncaught from his paw. Seeing the opportunity, the bear darted away with all his might.
Sadie sucked in a breath. The garden! Her stomach dropped as she noticed the deer fencing strewn across the yard, but then she saw the garden plot. It was rooted up as if someone had taken a shovel to it.
“My tomatoes!” Sadie rushed forward. “Goliath!” She seethed and clenched her teeth.
Anger built up in her, and she sank to the ground. Her tomato plants were strewn about, and the green tomatoes that the bear hadn’t eaten lay smashed. Sadie gathered up the green, smashed tomatoes and hurried into the house. She placed them in a paper bag and then rushed outside. Isaiah’s bike was the first one she saw, and she jumped onto it. Her skirt ripped as it caught on the chain, but she tugged it hard and gave it no mind as she rode toward the bachelor’s cabin.
Sadie didn’t know what she’d say until she got there. She rushed up the porch stairs and pounded on the cabin’s door. Less than ten seconds later, the door opened. Eli’s eyes widened in surprise. “Sadie, are you all right?”
“That bear. That stupid bear! First the blossom-end rot and then him. He got in. He ate my ripe tomatoes. He made a mess of everything. The plants are dug up. Even the green tomatoes are smashed.” The tears came then.
“Oh, Sadie.” Eli pulled her into his embrace. His warmth enveloped her, and she felt safe in his arms. For the first time in a long time, she felt safe.
“Did anything survive?” It was Opa’s voice, and she could hear him approaching. Sadie held up the paper bag and then watched as he gingerly poured the contents out onto the table.
“Four small green tomatoes.” He sighed. “If they weren’t smashed, we could have let them ripen in the windowsill, but like this . . . I’m afraid it’s not going to work, Sadie. I’m afraid they’re lost.”
“But maybe if we could go back. Maybe if we can check out the plants to see if there is one we can salvage—” Her words were desperate. “Otherwise everything is lost.”
“Ja, we can look. We’ll see what we can do.” Opa sighed. “But I have to tell you, it doesn’t look good.”
Sadie sat down on the couch and let her tears fall. She cried because of the tomatoes. She cried for her parents. She cried because she’d lost the heirloom seeds—the most valuable things they’d left to her. And the whole time she sat there crying, Eli sat with his arm wrapped around her. He was tender, despite how she’d treated him. He was loving in a way she didn’t deserve.
And as they sat there side by side, Opa sat before them in a chair. Opa prayed for her—prayed for them—not loudly, but even his whispers held conviction.
It was only as she paused and looked up that she realized that both of them were dressed and booted up as if they were ready to head out into the morning.
“I’m so sorry.” She wiped her face with her hand. “Were you going somewhere?”
“Ja, as a matter of fact, we were going to see you.”
“Really, after what I did? What I said?”
Opa offered her a hankie, and she wiped her nose, looking from Eli to Opa, and then back to Eli again. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t believe you.”
She rested her chin on his shoulder, and she could feel Eli swallow against her ear.
“Your grandfather is a good man,” she finally said. “He’s just trying to do what’s right . . . to hold on to something before it’s lost.” The words were for her as much as him.
Eli sighed. “I understand, Sadie. It’s all you have left of your parents.”
“I should have given your grandfather the seeds. I’m afraid I’ve ruined everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’ve lost it all, my heritage.”
“No, no, you haven’t, Sadie. That’s what we were going to tell you.”
“What do you mean?”
“My grandfather got something in the mail—back in Indiana. My grandma packed it in his bag as a surprise, not only for him, but us too.”
“What do you mean?” Sadie sat back and then watched as Opa moved to his suitcase, removing a white padded mailing envelope. He pulled out a letter first, handing it to her.
“Read this letter from my wife,” Opa said with the slightest of smiles. “Out loud.”
Dear Paul,
I should have told you this came a few days ago, but I thought you’d like the surprise. We’ve been praying for Sadie Chupp—such a special girl—and God has answered our prayers in an unexpected way. There was a large package that came in the mail, with a small package inside. I’ve included both. The smaller package was addressed to you from Mrs. Samuel Chupp . . .”
Sadie paused. Her hands began to quiver. “My . . . mother. I don’t understand.”
“Keep reading, Sadie.” Eli’s voice was gentle.
The letter included was from a man who bought a large box of garden supplies at an auction. He bought it last fall and just pulled it out this spring. In addition to clay pots, garden tools, and some seed packets, he found this small envelope. It looked as if it was prepared to be mailed but never shipped. The only right thing to do was to mail it.
Sadie paused from her reading. “And what was inside?” Her heart double-beat in her chest, and deep down she already knew.
Opa opened the envelope and pulled out a smaller one, handing it to Sadie.
“You have to read the letter first,” he insisted. “Your mem’s letter.”
Sadie opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of paper. The letter was dated June 1, just a few days before her parents’ death. The tears came.
Dear Paul Hostetler,
If you don’t remember me, I’m Samuel’s wife, and I have the garden that you always appreciate on Mooring Road. My tomatoes have done very well this year—the best ever. And as I’ve been drying seeds, saving them, God has been putting you on my mind.
Now, Mr. Hostetler, I’m a good Amish woman, and I believe that God has called me to live the Amish way, but lately God’s been pointing out to me how selfish I’ve been with Englischers, especially with you. Is there anywhere in the Bible that says we’re supposed to only love our neighbors who are like us? I think no.
So I’ve enclosed with this letter some of my heirloom tomato seeds. Use them, sell them, it does not matter to me. I just know that God has richly blessed me with life, a home, and family . . . and my garden. How can I not share?
And maybe, sir, when you are in the area, stop by. It would be great to see you again, and maybe you could give some gardening tips to my daughter Sadie. She’s eager to learn, but not always from me. If you have a daughter I’m sure you understand.
Mrs. Samuel Chupp
Sadie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when she read her mother’s words, and so she did a little of both. And then as tenderly as she could, she poured out the small seeds into her hand. Tomato seeds. They were tiny—not much larger than grains of sand—but they were so much more than seeds to Sadie. They were a handhold to the past. They were a renewal. And a promise for the future.
Sadie closed her hand around them and looked up at Eli’s face. “What I tried to hold on to, I lost. What was given up—shared—is the only thing that was saved.”
With tenderness, Eli ran a finger down her cheek. “Isn’t that true about everything, Sadie? Especially about love.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you,” she whispered.
He rested a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth sooner about my hope for our future. I want to earn your trust again, and I want you to know that I’m going to stick around and prove that.”
“Are you saying that you’re going to give up your stint as the travel-writing bachelor?”
“My hope is to give up the traveling part, and maybe—well, I won’t try to push too hard, but the only part I want to keep of that title is ‘writer.’ And gardener. In fact, I’m counting on you to guide me in a few areas. I hear it’s harder to grow things in these parts.” He winked.
“Ja, from what I’ve heard, it only works when one gets a good start in a greenhouse.”
“Well, that’s not a problem then.”
“You have a greenhouse?” Her brow furrowed. “Where?”
“I think you know it well.” Eli smiled. “It’s the one you’ve been using.”
“It’s another reason my grandfather came to visit,” he explained. “I told him about your neighbor’s place, and Opa contacted the owner to see if he’d be interested in selling. It turns out, he was.”
Laughter bubbled from Sadie’s lips at the sight of Opa’s smile.
“I told your neighbor that I want to expand my seed business. I get requests all the time from those in the Northwest who want seeds that fit their climate. I’m looking forward to coming here now and then to learn from the locals. And in the meantime, I’ve asked Eli to care for the place when I’m not there.”
“So you’ll be my neighbor, Eli?” As gingerly as she could, Sadie poured the seeds back into the envelope.
“Ja. What better position to be in to court you? I can’t really think of one.”
“Court me?” Her jaw dropped. “I was just hoping you’d forgive me.”
“Can’t I do both?”
“Of course. I’d love that.”
“Gut.” Eli stepped close and gave her a quick hug. “Then let’s write that on your schedule, along with cleaning up your garden.”
“I’ll take all the help I can get,” Sadie said and smiled. “And I’ll count on you helping me track down the bear.”
“Do you think it’s time for relocation?” Eli smirked.
“Ja. I think so. It seems like every wild thing needs to find a place of his own to call home, and I know we’ve found ours.” She reached for Eli again and accepted his hug. “Yes, in your arms, Eli, I’ve found my home.”
THE BUDGET—West Kootenai, Montana
It’s been a busy few weeks around the West Kootenai area. After Goliath decided to romp around in Sadie Chupp’s garden, folks around here decided he needed a new home. One can’t mess with heirloom tomatoes around the West Kootenai and think he can get away with it. The locals believe it was the colorful, flashing pinwheels in Sadie’s garden that drew the bear, and then when Goliath got there, he decided to have breakfast. Personally, I don’t agree with that notion. Can’t a bear just be hungry every once in a while?
A dozen of us bachelors got together, trapped the yearling, and turned him over to Fish and Game. When all of us told them we’d pool our money to pay for his safe relocation, they agreed. I’m only partly upset that my first few paychecks from Montana Log Works went to pay for a bear’s new home rather than mine, but I’ll try not to be jealous.
The most talked-about event, though—even more than the bear—was how Sadie received an envelope of her mother’s seeds the very day she thought she’d lost all of her own plants, all of her heritage. The story is too long to relate in this short report, but suffice it to say that her mother’s generosity is coming back to bless Sadie now. Sadie had enough seeds to share with her siblings—something she was happy to do. Many members of her family will be enjoying these tomatoes for years to come.
This reminds me what the Bible says, “For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me and for the gospel will save it.” So many times in life we try to protect what we value, but we are doubly blessed when we give it away.
Have you given away your love today? Have you shared your faith? If not, what are you waiting for?
—Eli Plank, the scribe who
will soon not be a bachelor,
thanks to Sadie Chupp