14

Strawberry picking began immediately after an early breakfast the next morning. The sun was still low in the sky and the leaves dewy, but Rachel insisted Maggie not help with the harvesting. Instead, she asked the boys to join them in the mounded rows. And after a time, Aunt Nellie wandered outside, as well, wearing a blue bandanna to keep the sun off her neck.

Leroy kept to himself, Rachel noticed, though he did occasionally speak to his brothers. For the most part, though, he was a silent worker—and quick.

When all the ripe berries were picked, Grace and Miriam took them inside to wash in cold water on one side of the double sink while Maggie hulled the cleaned ones at the table with Nellie. Rachel got the large kettle ready to layer the prepared berries, then sugar, followed by another layer of strawberries and sugar, until they were all used up.

When it was time to make the noon meal, they set aside the strawberries to wait for the sugar to dissolve, then cooked them slowly on low heat for twenty minutes. Finally, Rachel poured the large quantity of sugary strawberries into an enormous bowl to sit until tomorrow morning, when the work of filling and sealing jars would begin.

After they’d eaten, Rachel served cold meadow tea to the girls and Nellie, who’d stayed around for the meal. And for the fellowship, too, Rachel thought. The five of them were sipping the cold tea when they all heard a loud crash come from outside, like the sound of shattering glass.

“Was is letz?” Nellie said, going to the back screen door and looking out.

There was a series of loud meows, and Rachel got up quickly to look out the door, the girls close behind her, Maggie moving more slowly than her sisters.

“Well, lookee there . . . Siggy’s got himself a glass collar,” Nellie remarked, pointing.

“He must’ve put his head in the Mason jar Miriam was carryin’ around earlier,” Rachel said, peering out at the strange sight. She recalled Miriam had been feeding corn kernels to the birds, and the girl must have left the jar out with a few kernels inside. “Poor Siggy prob’ly couldn’t breathe. Good thing he broke the jar and got free.”

Nellie led the way out the door, shaking her head. “Puh! That cat!”

When they got to Siggy, he was still meowing and jerking about, trying to get the rim of the jar off his neck. Rachel noticed a few corn kernels in the largest piece of the broken jar, on the ground nearby. “He was after the corn,” she observed.

“Such a silly cat,” Nellie said. “I just hope Siggy doesn’t cut himself on the jagged glass. He’s lucky he’s still okay.”

By now, Andy and Stephen had come running to see about the commotion. Andy’s eyes looked like they might pop when he saw Siggy’s predicament. “Go an’ get Leroy,” Andy told his brother. “Tell him to bring Dat’s hammer right quick.”

Stephen dashed back to the barn, and pretty soon Leroy arrived, walking briskly.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

Rachel was quick to explain, but Leroy did not respond. Rather, he removed his blue paisley kerchief from his pocket and carefully slipped it between the sharp glass and the cat’s neck. “You’ll be all right. Just hold real still,” Leroy told Siggy quietly as he raised the hammer.

With a single tap, the glass broke, and Siggy zipped away across the yard.

Andy and Stephen laughed and jabbered in Deitsch about what they’d just seen; Rachel suspected it was a story they’d share many times with their friends.

“Denki, Leroy, for savin’ a cat with more than nine lives.” Nellie clasped her hands against her bosom. “Such a helpful young man.”

Leroy smiled amiably and bobbed his head, then took his hammer and returned to the barn.

Rachel wished that one day Leroy might smile at her like that.

Sighing, she thought, What more can I do, Lord?

The nesting robin Maggie had recently seen began to sing at four o’clock the next morning. Beautiful as the sound was, Maggie groaned and rolled slowly onto her back, listening in the predawn darkness of her room. So close to my window, she thought with a yawn, still exhausted. Most days, she woke up feeling downright tired, and it took an hour or more for her to fully wake.

Still, the robin’s vibrant call kept her from falling back to sleep. And imagining all the pretty little eggs beneath the jovial robin reminded Maggie of how much happiness must surely come from bringing life into the world. Something I’ll never know.

Even so, she prayed for God’s will to be done this day in all of their lives. And she prayed for those who would be flocking to the tent meetings each night for the duration of the revival, seeking forgiveness from sin and a new life in Christ Jesus. She recalled Preacher Brubaker passionately stating that nothing was more critical in the eyes of the Lord than a lost soul being found, like that one lost sheep. The memory of the yearning on so many faces was just beneath the surface of Maggie’s thoughts. And even though she was already a follower of Christ, she wondered how those people had felt as they made their way to the altar to proclaim their faith in their Savior and make Him the Lord of their life. The thought gave her pause. Had she completely surrendered her own life and will to Him? What might that mean for her, with her Old Order life and beliefs?

Along with all of that, she had been pondering Glenn’s declaration that he had been healed, still wishing she knew how it had come about. He seemed so healthy.

Will I be healed, too . . . someday? she wondered.

Lately, these questions had kept her awake nearly every night.

By midmorning her stepmother had stocked the cookstove with firewood and was ready to get the water boiling for the jam-filled canning jars. Aunt Nellie had been feeling a bit tired, so they missed having her fun-loving presence around to finish up the jam-making process.

I’ll go an’ check on her later, Maggie decided, wanting to ask about one of Mamm’s oldest quilts, one she’d recently found at the bottom of the oak chest in her room. Aunt Nellie might know when it was made and by who.

Maggie also wanted to ask Nellie some questions about things she’d read in the New Testament. Mamm had sometimes spoken with Nellie about certain verses, too, though not because Nellie was more knowledgeable than anyone else amongst the People. She was just someone who could be trusted to listen without questioning . . . or judging.

After the noon meal, while the dishes were being washed, Rachel urged Maggie to go and rest for a while. Thankful for this, Maggie left for her bedroom and sat on the bed, the rag rug coarse and bumpy beneath her bare feet. She sighed. If only that robin’s song hadn’t been quite so early, she thought as she lowered herself onto the summer quilt.

Within less than a minute, Aunt Nellie’s fluffy cat crept into the room. Siggy rarely wandered through the connecting hallway into the main house, but here he was, and meowing, too, as if to announce himself.

Maggie had to smile as she looked down at the cat. “Are ya lost, little boy?” she whispered. But she was too worn out to get up and carry him back to Aunt Nellie’s, so when Siggy stretched and yawned, then settled onto the rag rug, purring loudly, Maggie let him stay. Soon he was asleep, his tiny nose frequently twitching.

He’ll be fine for now, she thought, smiling. And before long, she gave in to drowsiness, too.

———

In the kitchen, Rachel asked young Miriam to double-check the number of pint jars cooling on the counter before Rachel left with a batch of homemade ice cream for Nellie. The ice cream helped to cheer up Ruth, she thought, glad to do this for Nellie, as well.

At Nellie’s back door, she knocked and waited. Noticing through the screen door that no one was in sight, she pushed open the door and slipped inside without a word, in case Nellie was resting. There, she placed the container in the icebox, then left quietly.

On her way back to the main house, Rachel noticed Aunt Nellie peering under the large juniper bush. “What are ya lookin’ for?” she asked, going across the yard to her, surprised.

“Well, Siggy. He’s never disappeared like this before.” Nellie looked worried and pale.

“I’ll help ya search.” Rachel wondered if he’d somehow gotten trapped inside the closed potting shed, but she checked and saw nothing of Siggy amongst the clay pots and trowels.

Just then, Andy came out to get water at the well for the hen house. “Are ya lookin’ for somethin’?” he asked Rachel.

“My Siggy’s missin’,” Aunt Nellie informed him right quick. “Have ya seen him?”

With a frown, Andy shook his head. “Ach, he’s round here somewhere.”

Nellie nodded and wiped her face with a handkerchief she’d pulled from her pocket. “Will ya help us look?”

“Soon as I water the chickens,” Andy said. “I’ll tell Stephen to come, too.”

“For goodness’ sake!” Nellie said, fanning her face with the hem of her long apron. “It’s not like Siegfried to do such a thing.” She sat down on the wooden bench near the big shade tree in the backyard. “I think I need to catch my breath . . . maybe ask Gott for help.”

“You go right ahead.” Rachel hurried over and looked under the latticework beneath the back porch, calling for the missing cat. “Where are ya, Siggy boy?”

———

Hearing a voice outside her window, calling for Siggy, Maggie awoke with a start. She turned to look on the floor where the cat had been sleeping, but he was gone. Sitting up in bed, she murmured, “Ach, where’d he go?”

Maggie reached for her cane and made her way to the kitchen. When she stepped out the side door, she saw Rachel and Aunt Nellie in the backyard in a huddle with Andy and Stephen.

“Lookin’ for Siggy?” she asked.

“Have ya seen him?” Aunt Nellie asked, moving this way, her face pinched into a frown.

Maggie admitted that Siggy had wandered into her room and slept on the rug. “But when I woke up, he wasn’t there.”

Aunt Nellie’s face broke into a grin. “Well then, he’s prob’ly wandered back home.”

Andy and Stephen raced each other to the Dawdi Haus, and before Nellie and Rachel could even get across the yard, the boys came back outside, grinning. “We found him!” Andy hollered.

“Thank the dear Lord,” Aunt Nellie said right out.

Maggie took her time walking across the yard to Nellie’s, but when she stepped inside the small home, she apologized. “If only I’d gotten up and brought Siggy back the minute he came to my room, I could’ve spared ya.” She looked at poor Nellie’s overheated face.

“Now, don’t fret, Maggie-bird,” Aunt Nellie said, shaking her head. “Siggy must love ya a lot to seek you out like that. To tell the truth, it’s kinda sweet.”

“They even had a nap together!” Stephen declared with a big smile. “Jah, a cat nap.”

All of them had a good, hearty laugh. But when Maggie glanced outside, she could see Leroy peering out the barn door, looking mighty curious . . . and perhaps a little sad.

Like he feels left out. . . .