15

ch-fig

When Rachel and the boys left, Maggie stayed around to talk with Aunt Nellie in her cozy kitchen, replete with pale blue and yellow accents and more knickknacks than Mamm had ever owned. Decorative plates were on display inside the corner cupboard behind the small table, and dish towels in blues and yellows, too. With similar colors, the quilted placemats on the table added to the cheerfulness.

“I think Siggy must’ve sensed you weren’t feelin’ so well today,” Aunt Nellie said, looking at Maggie affectionately from across the small kitchen table, near the open windows. “Pets seem to know when comfort’s needed.”

“Hadn’t thought of that,” Maggie said. “Somehow he found his way to my room.”

“Like I said . . .” Nellie smiled.

“I love Siggy, but he’s not much for cuddlin’.” Maggie wished the cat would sit still on her lap like he did with Aunt Nellie. “Oh, and while we’re talkin’, I want to ask ’bout an old quilt I found in Mamm’s blanket chest the other day. I’ve never seen it before.” Maggie went on to describe the Sixteen-Patch pattern done in plain-weave cotton. “The colors are muted, but not just from age, I don’t think.”

“Most likely that was the style of the era when it was made,” Nellie suggested.

“Would ya like to see it sometime?” Maggie asked.

Nellie’s face lit up. “How ’bout right now?”

Maggie was pleased and—at least for now—dismissed the idea of discussing a few Scripture verses, as well. “Let’s be sure Siggy stays put, jah?” She closed the door to Nellie’s place before they headed into the interior hallway that led to the front room in the main farmhouse.

In Maggie’s room, the two of them carefully removed the quilt in question from the chest at the foot of her bed. They placed it flat on top of the summer quilt already on the bed, and Aunt Nellie began to examine every square and small block, fingering the stitching. Leaning closer and squinting, she murmured to herself. “Well now,” she said at last. “It’s been many a year since I laid eyes on this special quilt.”

“So you recognize it?” Maggie was thrilled.

“It was made for my Mamm back when she was sick for months on end. My father’s mother and six of my aunts worked together on it—and with every stitch, they prayed for Mamm’s healing.”

A genuine family heirloom, Maggie thought, pleased as pie. “How old would it be?”

“Well, Mamm was married in 1864, and I was seven when she fell ill.” Aunt Nellie gave her a little grin. “Can you do the arithmetic in your head? Remember, I’m the firstborn.”

“Born two years after your parents married?”

“Eighteen months, to be precise.”

Maggie closed her eyes and thought hard. “I’m guessin’ it’s seventy-eight years old.”

Aunt Nellie nodded. “That’s right, dear. And since it was in your Mamm’s lovely blanket chest—however it ended up here—I say you keep it for when you set up housekeeping someday.”

Maggie’s breath caught in her throat. But I won’t be marrying, she thought.

“What’s a-matter?” Aunt Nellie asked. “Your face just fell like a half-baked cake.”

Maggie couldn’t resist a smile. “Young men want strong wives, ya know. I doubt I’ll be marryin’ any time soon. If at all.”

Puh! That’s up to the Lord, ain’t so?” Aunt Nellie touched the quilt lovingly. “It was my Mammi Yoder’s idea to make this. Her husband was one of the preachers here in Lancaster County back in her day. Dawdi Yoder believed strongly in praying daily for God’s will. And for His healing touch, too.” Nellie’s eyes glimmered at the corners.

“Your Dawdi was a preacher?”

“Many decades ago.” Nellie nodded her head. “Back then prayer for the sick wasn’t talked about much in our circles. It still ain’t.” She looked back at the quilt. “Have ya ever read James, chapter five, verse fourteen, Maggie-bird?”

Do I know the verse in James? Maggie wondered. She must have looked like she was pondering this very thing, because right then Nellie began to recite the Scripture about anyone who was ill going to the church elders to be anointed with oil, followed by prayer for healing.

Maggie was surprised to know this was in the New Testament. And in that moment, she wished again for the opportunity to hear the rest of Glenn Brubaker’s story. Had someone prayed for him in this way? She’d never heard of prayers for healing being offered by anyone amongst the People. Even at her mother’s bedside, they had just prayed silently for God’s will to be done.

Knowing its story, Maggie admired this wonderful old quilt all the more, with its unusual soft gray, cream, yellow, and cherry-colored blocks. She couldn’t help thinking that the Lord must have let her stumble upon it. So I could hear Aunt Nellie’s inspiring story.

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That night, when she was ready for bed, Maggie replaced the summer quilt with the heirloom Sixteen-Patch quilt, which she had aired on the clothesline the rest of the day. A comfort quilt, Maggie thought as she nestled down to read the verse Aunt Nellie had mentioned in James. She read it several times, and after she had prayed her silent rote prayers, Maggie offered thanks to God for answering the quilters’ prayers and healing Nellie’s mother all those years ago.

She got up and put out the lantern and hobbled back to bed, wondering why the sovereign God and heavenly Father chose to heal some people and not others.

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The mules in the barn must have heard it in the distance before Rachel and her husband ever did—the stark, abrupt smack of thunder. The air was still outside their open bedroom windows, oppressive and damp. The very next moment, a sudden wind kicked up, howling past the eaves and sending dust spitting against the north side of the old stable.

Joseph rose from his chair and hurried to the windows to close them. “Once the rain’s over, I’ll open them again to let in some cooler air.” He mentioned that too much rain might put a damper on the Bird-in-Hand Fire Company Carriage and Antique Auction tomorrow. “Wish I could go, but work comes first,” he said.

“I wonder if I shouldn’t go down and close the first-floor windows. They’re all wide open,” Rachel said, moving toward the hallway.

Downstairs, she made her way quietly to the kitchen, then to the middle and front rooms, going through the house to lower all the windows. At last, she slipped by Maggie’s little haven and saw her closing her window. She could hear her murmuring, evidently in pain, and once again Rachel felt sorry for her.

Surely something could help her, Rachel thought as she made her way back upstairs to Joseph. “Maggie was closing her window,” she told him.

“Still up at this hour?” he said, settled now in his chair.

“The whistlin’ wind must’ve bothered her.” Rachel began to pull her hair back into a loose ponytail. “Like father, like daughter.”

“Well, she’s more like her mother, really.” Joseph looked over at Rachel.

“And the boys . . . they’re like you, jah?” Rachel went to their bed and sat there, aware of how stuffy it was already getting with the windows closed. She left the sheet and quilt folded below her feet.

“I see some of myself in all my children, but Leroy’s the most like me, odd as that may seem.” Joseph drew a deep breath. “He’s hardworking and leaves no stone unturned to get what he’s strivin’ for.”

Rachel leaned against the headboard.

“But I’m more concerned now than before about how he’s been acting, even toward me, here lately. I plan to take him fishin’ Saturday morning. Something’s gnawing at him, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”

“What if it fans the flame?” Rachel asked, concerned.

Ach, can’t get much worse. Can it?”

Rachel wasn’t going to say more. Joseph’s decisions about his children were up to him. Still, she feared further upheaval from Leroy, whose perpetual scowl was all too obvious.

“I’ll make sure he knows how much I love him, too,” Joseph said quietly.

Jah, des gut,” Rachel was quick to agree.

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On Saturday morning after breakfast, Rachel, Grace, and Miriam left for market to sell many of the pint jars of strawberry jam, leaving Maggie home, as was her wish. Since she was feeling more energetic today, she decided to get word to cousins Luke and Lila about going with them to the tent meeting that evening. But because Dat and Leroy had gone fishing, just the two of them, she would have to wait to honor her promise to Dat first, before sending Andy or Stephen over with the pony cart so that Luke and Lila would know to pick her up.

Meanwhile, Maggie baked two strawberry pies for supper—one to share with Aunt Nellie. And as she worked, she read one verse after another, many of them about the healing miracles of Jesus. She could scarcely stay away from the Good Book, so she kept it lying open on the counter as she baked.

Before the noon meal, Aunt Nellie brought over tuna salad sandwiches and a macaroni salad, which made putting together a meal for Dat and her brothers very easy. Rachel and the girls wouldn’t be back from market till late afternoon, as was typical.

Like always, Dat sat at the head of the table and bowed his head to ask the silent blessing. Once everyone had food on their plates, Dat began to tell about the four fish he and Leroy had caught and tossed back.

Maggie had been curious about the lack of fresh fish to clean and fry, but there were times when her father just enjoyed fishing for the relaxation of it, and by the look on Leroy’s face, this had been one of those times. Leroy’s scowl had disappeared, and he looked as pleasant as before Mamm had become so weak and ill.

“The rain of the past couple nights soaked the ground real gut,” Leroy said, holding the second half of his sandwich near his mouth. “It was still glodsick out in the pasture.”

Andy nodded and grinned. “Soggy’s right!”

Stephen pulled a face. “My feet got stuck deep in a suck hole when we were roundin’ up the mules, an’ Andy had to pull me out.”

“I thought he was sinkin’ clear away to China,” Andy added.

“Oh now, boys,” Dat said, reaching for his coffee cup.

It looked to Maggie as if they’d washed off at the pump before coming inside. Mamm had taught them well. “Gut thing ya weren’t wearin’ work boots,” she said.

“That’s for sure.” Dat grinned at Leroy now, who smiled back.

Maybe the worst is past, thought Maggie, hoping so. What did Dat say to Leroy while they were out fishing?