Menno brought the buggy to a halt beside Deacon Ray’s barn and climbed out. Anna stayed inside while Menno tied the horse. Wash hung on the lines behind the house, swaying in the morning breeze. The noise of a small engine running filled the morning air. Moments later Deacon Ray’s wife, Esther, appeared as she climbed up the outside basement steps. In her arms she carried a hamper of wet wash.
“Gut morning!” Esther called across the lawn. She set down her hamper and came toward them.
Anna waved and climbed out of the buggy.
“You’d better go talk with her,” Menno said, “while I find Deacon Ray.”
“I will do nothing of the sort,” Anna stated. “I’m staying with you.”
“She needs to know why we’re here.”
“Is Ray around?” Anna called to Esther and put on her best smile.
“Yah, here he comes now.” Esther looked over her shoulder. “He was fixing the washing machine motor for me.”
A surprised look crossed Deacon Ray’s face when he saw who was waiting for him. But he came toward them with a firm step. Esther turned back and picked up her hamper. With a quick nod toward Anna, she headed to the back of the house.
She knew this was church business, Menno figured. And Deacon Ray would tell Esther the news once they left. As well he should. Soon everyone would know he had a son among the Englisha people. But even when the shame came crashing down on his shoulders he would know he had a son. That was something he would never wish to change.
“Gut morning,” Deacon Ray greeted them, smiling to Anna. “I hope you don’t come with bad news on this morning after the wedding.”
“Nee.” Menno tried to smile. “But we do have some serious business. There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just have it out. The Englisha man who was at the wedding yesterday stopped by this morning. It turns out he’s my son. I’m here to let you know and explain the situation. I wanted to be the one to tell you.”
Deacon Ray’s mouth fell open. “Your son? But you have no son.”
“It turns out I do. Do you remember the time you and I spent in St. Louis doing our alternative service? Perhaps you remember I was seeing an Englisha girl. Her name was Carol.”
Deacon Ray nodded. Then he turned to Anna. “Did you know about this?”
Menno spoke up. “Deacon Ray, I didn’t even know Donald existed until a week or so ago. So how could Anna have known?”
Deacon Ray turned back to Menno. “The Englisha girl didn’t tell you she was…expecting?”
“Yes, she did. But later Carol told me she’d lost the baby. I believed her. Perhaps because I wanted to believe her? Yah, but this does not change anything now. We parted ways, Carol and I. She moved back to her hometown, and I came back here. I didn’t hear from her again until she wrote me some time ago to tell me I have a son. His name is Donald. And I’m glad he has found me.”
“You don’t sound very repentant, Menno. I’m surprised at you. And you told no one of this matter? For all these years? Not even Anna?”
“How could Menno tell me about his son if he didn’t know himself?” Anna asked. “I hope you use some common sense in handling this and don’t go racing off on some wild judgment.”
“Now, Anna.” Deacon Ray gave her a stern look. “You know me better than that. I don’t plan to go racing anywhere. But this is a matter of grave concern. Menno has been a member of the church since his youth. He has played a hand in many church matters, giving his counsel, which we took as coming from an upright man. Now we find out that he has a son in the Englisha world. That cannot be ignored, Anna.”
“You can do with me what you wish,” Menno told him. “I have met my son, and he’s a blessing from Da Hah. Even if he was conceived in sin.”
Deacon Ray nodded. “I wouldn’t wish the man to bear any of your shame, Menno. The Englisha man I saw seemed decent. And now I thank Da Hah that I did invite him to the wedding. I see what lay behind all this. As the Scriptures say, the man who covers his sin will not prosper. It was nothing but Da Hah’s grace from the beginning to bring this out into the open. And you helped hide this, Anna? For all these years?”
“We’ve told you. Menno did not know of his son until a few days ago. He told me the morning of the wedding what there was to tell,” Anna said. “Menno didn’t know his Englisha son had been born.”
“And I’m supposed to believe this? Coming from you, his wife? You shared your heart and your bed with this man for all these years, and yet you knew nothing of his sin with an Englisha girl?”
“There are things one does not speak of, Ray. And you of all persons should know that.”
“Well, perhaps you aren’t as guilty as he is, Anna. But you should have asked questions. That’s what a wife is supposed to do when she suspects sin in the life of her husband. None of us are to turn a blind eye to evil.”
“I saw a heart in Menno that sought after the will of Da Hah. It was not in me to question that, regardless of what sins lay in his past. It’s not like any of us have always done what is right. And Menno has lived honorably all these many years. He has loved me, and I have no regrets for the marriage we’ve had.”
Menno cleared his throat. “It’s best we talk of this without harsh words. I will take whatever punishment you and the community see fit to give. It was my sin, and I will own it. I repented of the sin years ago with Da Hah, although I didn’t talk of it publicly. I will not have Anna carry any of this on her shoulders. She knew nothing of it until a few days ago.”
Deacon Ray looked down for a minute or two. Then he looked at Menno. “This is a great shame, Menno. I will take the matter up with the ministers and with Bishop Henry. Then we’ll decide what is the right way to go.”
Anna straightened her shoulders. “If you choose to excommunicate Menno, I will still share his bed. You should know that now.”
“Anna, please!” Menno touched her shoulder.
“Anna, it would be best if you stayed out of this,” Deacon Ray said. “This is the sin of Menno, and he should bear his own burden.”
“I am his wife. Nothing that has happened changes that. I will stand by him.”
“You would not forsake him for false doctrine?” Deacon Ray stared at her. “You would stand with Menno if he left the faith?”
“Nee, I wouldn’t repent. And you know that. But Menno isn’t leaving the faith. He is choosing to submit to whatever consequences the community leaders decide. You heard him say so. I will stand with him in this decision. Even if it means the darkness of being cut off from the fellowship of the church for a time.”
“I will speak with the others on this matter.” Deacon Ray stroked his beard. “This news will be a great sorrow. All of us will walk with bent shoulders for many days. I wish you had brought this up years ago, Menno. Perhaps at your baptism. It would have been dealt with much lighter there.”
“What one should have done is not what one always does,” Menno said. “In my heart I did repent at that time, and I spoke with Da Hah about it. But now my son has found me. I accept him, and I accept what must be done. In that I will be satisfied. You and the church leaders will let me know what is decided. I will not protest whatever is chosen to do.”
“At least I’m thankful for that,” Deacon Ray said. “But this won’t be an easy decision for any of us. I know it has broken my heart already this morning. The others will feel the same. The shame of this will be a heavy burden on the community.”
“As well it should be,” Menno agreed. “And now we will be going. I’m sure you have things to do, and we have cleanup from the wedding to tend to.”
“May Da Hah have mercy on all of us,” Deacon Ray said, stepping back from the buggy. Menno helped Anna climb in. He then untied Toby and got into the buggy. Menno turned the horse, and they drove away. Esther, returning from the wash lines with an empty hamper, waved to them as they drove out of the driveway.
A mile down the road, Menno put his arm around Anna’s shoulder, pulling her tightly against him. “You didn’t have to do that, dear. I would have borne my shame alone.”
She leaned against him and burst into tears. “Why did you do this sinful thing, Menno? I know you were young and still thinking about whether to join the world or not. But an Englisha girl? How could you? Is that why you never told me? Because she was more beautiful than I? Is that why I never asked questions? Because I feared the answer? Did you ever wish you stayed in her world, Menno? Did you want to? Tell me the truth. I need to know.”
“Anna, please…” Menno soothed her. “It was none of those things. Nothing but my shame has followed me from those days. I never wished to go back. I could have if I’d wanted to. I wasn’t forced to leave my work at the hospital. Carol would have stayed with me.”
“Are you telling me the truth, Menno?”
“Yah. And you’ll just have to believe me because I don’t know what else to say. I love you, Anna.”
“I don’t know what to believe right now, Menno. I could have said something before now about the sorrow I saw in you. I could have asked about the little things. Like how troubled you were when Susan left for the Englisha world. And, especially, when she brought Teresa back. Or when our children were born. You seemed to have a sadness inside. And all of them were girls. Do you regret that, Menno? Did that bring you sorrow? I knew there were questions in your mind. I knew something from your past haunted you.”
“Anna…Anna...” He drew her close. “It’s not your fault. This problem lies with me. This was my sin…my doing. And it’s only by Da Hah’s grace that any good has come out of it.”
Anna looked at him. “Do you think the darkness of being separated from the church will be a small matter? We’re both old, Menno. What if our souls are called home during those weeks? How will we explain that to Da Hah?”
“That is why you must not walk with me through that valley. And, Anna, Da Hah knows what has happened. He knows I repented of this sin and talked to Him about it many years ago.”
Anna sighed. “Perhaps Deacon Ray will have some sense and keep a level head about him.”
Menno snorted. “I’m afraid that’s not going to happen.”
Anna ignored him. “We will pray. We will pray hard. So much gut has already been done by Da Hah in these past years. Susan has come back, and Teresa is now married and in the community. Perhaps Da Hah will do more. We should not imagine evil where there is none, remember? You always look on the dark side of things, Menno.”
“It must be my old age and my sins,” Menno said, pulling into the driveway and coming to a stop by the barn.
“We will not speak so anymore,” Anna said, climbing out of the buggy. “Let’s count our blessings and be thankful for what Da Hah has given.”
“You are a gut wife, Anna. Too gut for me.”
She smiled, reaching up to rub the last of the tears from her cheeks before walking toward the house. Menno watched her before unhitching. He led the horse to the barn, where he unhooked the harness and hung it on the wall. He put Toby in his stall. Through the open double doors he saw Steve still working in the cornfield. Sheaves of corn were kicking out of the back of the cutter and falling to the ground.
“Da Hah,” Menno prayed, “what am I going to do? What do You want me to do now?” Slipping behind the manger, he threw his hat on the floor and fell to his knees beside a bale of straw. He buried his face in his arms. The face of Donald came into focus. There were questions in his eyes, and Menno groaned. He saw each of his daughters after they were born, one by one. Each one precious. They had been his and Anna’s. Why had he been allowed such joy after what he had done? “Please spare Anna from the pain of my sin,” he prayed. “And change her mind about walking through this darkness with me. It’s not her fault, dear Da Hah. You know that. She was pure when I married her. It was I who wasn’t honest. And protect my daughters from the shame of what I’ve done. Help them bear this. Let the worst fall upon my shoulders. But I do thank You that Donald has found me. I thank You that he’s my son. And that he lived to see the light of day. I give You thanks that he walks on the earth. Be with Donald as he returns home. And allow him to view me with forgiveness in his heart.”
After a few moments of silence, Menno rose and put his hat back on. He walked across the field to Steve. Sorrow and joy had arrived together in his heart, and they were at war. And this was as it should be. Da Hah was revealing what had been long hidden. If the pain was more than he could bear, Da Hah’s grace would be made available. And Menno could blame no one but himself. This was all his own fault.
“How did things go?” Steve asked after stopping the horses at Menno’s approach.
“As well as could be expected. There will be difficult days ahead as everything is sorted out.”
“My heart has been heavy thinking of Susan and how she will handle this.”
“I know.” Menno bent over to stack corn sheaves. “So have I…and also of the other girls. This will hurt all of them.”
“I’m glad you met your son,” Steve said. He nodded and then commanded the horses to move on. They stepped forward.
Menno watched Steve go. Now there was a gut young man, he thought. One who knew what to say in times of sorrow.