––––––––
The flu and stomach virus that had felled so many families in the Beiler home was still racing through the Amish community. Every day, families learned of others who had fallen ill with one illness – or both. In addition, the weather stubbornly continued with days of high winds and deep snowfalls. Families were unable to get out of their homes to take their children to school; and, if they did, they were frequently unsure whether weather conditions would permit them to pick their children up at the end of the school day. Every family in Ephrata learned to scan the horizon, looking for the telltale clouds that preceded another blizzard. What made the situation even more stressful was the short time period in between storms – often, no more than two days at any one time.
With this in mind, Bishop Stoltzfus visited the community’s school teacher, along with the community’s remaining healthy deacon.
“Miss Yoder, we’re going to have to postpone school until these illnesses wear themselves out here in Ephrata,” said the bishop. “In addition, this harsh weather we’re having makes it too dangerous for families to send their children to school. We are in a temporary lull – for at least the next day or two. You know where your scholars are in their learning. If you’ll give the deacons and me assignments for several weeks more, we will visit each family here in Ephrata and give them to all of your scholars.”
“Bishop, that is excellent! Denki! I have been worried about this long lull – my scholars learn best when they work on books, math problems, reading and language questions on a regular basis. If you’ll give me a few minutes, I can have something written up for you,” Rebecca said.
“Good. Write it out two times so we can both take something for each family to write down. Once this weather and illness come to an end, your scholars will be back in the school house with you,” promised the bishop.
Twenty minutes later, Rebecca had written out several pages of assignments, handing one copy to both the deacon and bishop. Outside the house, they decided how to divide the district up.
“And hurry . . . we’ll be hit with another storm by nightfall tonight,” predicted the bishop.
Before Bishop Stoltzfus directed his horse in the direction of home, he decided to stop at the Beiler and Fisher homes to discuss the progression of the flu and stomach bugs chewing their way through the community.
“Bishop, I am sure Sarah Beiler told you the same thing, but we need to see several days without another person coming down with one of these illnesses. I have spoken to several of the wives, and they tell me that the stomach bug, in particular, is very bad. If I had access to a library, I would study the symptoms. This is just a guess, understand, but I believe what we’re dealing with is called norovirus. It’s highly contagious and hits everyone hard, especially the youngest and oldest. Because of how contagious it is, Sarah and I both recommend that families not get together with each other. Not until we know it has played itself out. The same goes for the flu. I would hate to see anyone vulnerable – like Adam Zook – come down sick. I’m glad you’ve decided to keep the scholars home. Denki.”
“What do you think about our church meetings?”
“Ach, Bishop! The same thing! We can all read our Bibles and worship as families – at home. You saw what happened when just one person with flu came to a meeting! Imagine if four or five came to meeting sick! Someone who is coming down sick, but still not showing symptoms is just as contagious as someone who’s obviously ill – and it’s more dangerous because he won’t know he’s sick until it hits him. Nee! We cannot advise allowing families to gather right now,” Emily said forcefully.
“Not to mention the threat of blizzards. Well, denki, Mrs. Fisher. Until the threat of both blizzards and illness has dropped, we will all stay at home. Once the threats are over, we will resume school and our bi-weekly meetings,” concluded the bishop. “I had better go – those clouds are moving in faster than I am comfortable with.”
“The wind has picked up, too. Travel safely, please bishop,” Sarah said.
Outside, Bishop Stoltzfus flipped his coat collar up around his scarf, then unwrapped the scarf and positioned his collar closest to his neck, wrapping his scarf snugly around his neck once again.
“Go, Patch! Get us home. This storm will be here fast,” the bishop said, looking at the heavy clouds. His heart fell as he saw hard pellets of snow beginning to fall.
In response to the bishop’s voice, Patch began trotting, wanting to be inside his barn. Despite their best efforts to travel quickly, the bishop and Patch pulled into the Stoltzfus yard as the snowfall became heavy. Patch trotted as fast as he dared for the barn. Inside the barn, the bishop quickly brushed down Patch, giving him extra feed and making sure he had sufficient water. Once inside, the bishop went outside only when it was necessary to care for his livestock.
Other families in the district respected the fierceness of this storm, which was particularly bad. Still, two families lost husbands and fathers as the combination of the howling wind, frigid temperatures and thick snow made being outdoors dangerous. One man was killed when a tree branch fell, hitting his head and neck. The second man was killed when he grew disoriented and got lost trying to return to his home from his barn.
The storm blew for five days. When the winds ended, families went outside to take stock of the damage. The families who had lost husbands and fathers mourned when they found their bodies. Bishop Stoltzfus prayed with these families and urged them to hold private memorial services.
“We cannot bury him now. The ground is frozen hard. For now, bury him under snow so he won’t decompose. In the spring, I will be back to help you with a funeral service and a respectful burial,” he instructed the bereaved families
***
January quickly passed into February. Because of the unpredictable weather and illness ravaging the community, no youth get-togethers were planned or held, and the next meeting was canceled to keep illness from spreading further.
John Fisher, sitting in the gentle light of a kerosene lamp in the living room, thought about Miriam Beiler. Before the weather had turned so ugly, he had approached her and her parents, letting them know he wanted to court Miriam. Her parents had agreed to allow Miriam to make the decision for herself – Miriam, knowing of John’s love for God, agreed to begin courting.
John thought of Miriam’s gentle, light-hazel eyes and her ever-present smile. He had heard that she had been hit with the flu. Lord, let her be healthy, now. She is a strong, beautiful woman and I want to get to know her better. Much, much better.
He looked up, scanning the horizon – a practice that had quickly become habit for all families in the area. Spotting a dark bank of clouds far away, he grabbed his scarf and jacket, telling his parents he wanted to visit Miriam.
“Just be back before nightfall, especially if those clouds get any closer,” instructed Samuel.
“Ya, I’ll be keeping a close eye on them. Denki, daed. I will see you before nightfall,” promised John.
“John, take this plate of cookies over, please. I’m sure Miriam would appreciate them now that she’s better,” Emily said.
“Denki, mamm,” said John. In the barn, he quickly hitched the horse to the buggy and drove to the Beiler farm. As he did, he glanced occasionally toward the far-off bank of clouds – thankfully, they were still staying away, but he had learned this was no guarantee for the next few days.