Chapter 28
Was it Leah’s imagination, or did folks seem extra-happy to see her as the family arrived at Jeremiah’s for church on Sunday morning? She’d anticipated that Betsy’s presence would spark conversation among the women as they gathered in Margaret’s kitchen before the service, yet she sensed another undercurrent, too . . . secretive glances, and snatches of whispered conversation that stopped when she came near. Leah could recall the same furtive behavior when she’d first married Jude, but this time the women seemed festive and cheerful rather than judgmental.
“Happy Mother’s Day, all!” Margaret called out as she greeted Leah and the other ladies. “Won’t it be nice to have the men setting out the food and cleaning up after the meal today?”
“I’m not a mother, but I enjoy this Sunday every spring!” Naomi Slabaugh said with a chuckle.
Esther’s chins quivered with her chuckle. “Jah, it’ll be a real treat to relax out in the shade with lemonade and extra dessert while the fellows do the work,” she said. “And today we’ll have Betsy to entertain us, too.”
Leah was amazed when the two maidel sisters came up to her and tweaked Betsy’s nose as though she were their favorite niece. The other women were also greeting Leah as they placed their pans of food on Margaret’s counters and in the refrigerator. Soon everyone was filing into Bishop Jeremiah’s expanded front room to begin the service. Gabe Flaud sang the first few words of the opening hymn.
As everyone’s voices rose in the ancient song, Leah noticed how little Betsy brightened and began to gaze at the women seated around them. She wiggled happily in her basket on the pew bench, even though the hymn was rather slow and somber. Was the wee girl fond of music? Or did she simply enjoy being in the company of so many folks who smiled and paid attention to her? Either way, Leah couldn’t recall feeling happier at church—especially considering how some of these ladies had once considered her an odd duck because she worked with animals.
Leah blinked. I was indeed an odd duck, because I got along better with my goats than I did with most people, she thought. Now that I’ve chosen to be a part of Jude’s family—and his church district—I’m more open to the company of women, and they accept me. I feel like I belong here now.
It was a wondrous revelation. A few verses of the hymn went right past Leah before she found her place on the page of the Ausbund and joined the singing again. Her heart felt light, and as Betsy began to babble quietly, Leah couldn’t help smiling. Surely, God had found favor with her, and He’d blessed her with a life she could’ve only dreamed about last year at this time.
After a time of kneeling for prayer, Bishop Jeremiah began the first sermon. Although Leah had always admired Bishop Vernon’s wisdom and his way with words, she also appreciated the energy with which the Morning Star bishop addressed his congregation. His voice rang with enthusiasm as he told them the story of Jesus feeding the multitude that had gathered on the hillsides.
“With only a few little fishes and loaves of bread—certainly less food than we’ll consume after church today—our Savior satisfied the hunger of more than four thousand people. And there were leftovers!” he exclaimed with outstretched arms. “It was a miracle, for sure and for certain, and once again Jesus was showing those who followed Him that in God, all things are possible to those who believe—”
Leah sucked in her breath and sat very still, oblivious to the rest of Jeremiah’s sentence. She’d felt a flutter deep inside. Could it be the baby moving? She closed her eyes and focused inward, praying for guidance.
This time the movement was more distinct, and Leah was filled with awe. The bishop might be expounding upon wondrous events of long ago and far away, but right here on the pew bench she was experiencing her own miracle. She’d witnessed birth dozens of times in barns and pens, yet now that she was the mother involved, the whole process took on a brilliance that rivaled the sun. Somehow Leah made it through the remaining hours of the service without exploding from sheer joy.
At long last, Bishop Jeremiah pronounced the benediction. “Do we have any announcements?” he asked with a knowing smile. “Any concerns or news about our family or friends?”
When Jude stood up with a boyish grin on his face, Leah met his brown-eyed gaze and fell in love with him all over again. “Guess you’ve noticed by now that Betsy has returned to us,” he said happily. “And this time it’s permanent—Leah and I will be adopting her.”
Heads nodded and folks smiled at little Betsy, who now leaned against Leah’s shoulder with an arm around her neck. When Betsy squawked, pleasant laughter filled the room.
“But that’s not all!” Jude continued. “Our family will be welcoming a new Shetler come September, and we couldn’t be more delighted.”
This time folks applauded and took a second look at Leah, whose cheeks tingled with heat. The women seated near her grabbed her hand or grasped her shoulders, sincerely happy for her, and folks began standing up to congratulate her and Jude.
“Before we leave this room—before you men set up for our dinner,” Margaret said loudly, “we’re not finished with announcements. Hush now, so everyone knows what’s going to happen.”
The murmurings ceased. All eyes focused on Jude and Jeremiah’s mamm, who stood with a hand on her hip and an authoritative expression on her face.
Margaret smiled at Leah. “When Jude came over yesterday and told us Betsy had returned—with only the clothes on her wee back—Lenore and I decided to make this a Mother’s Day we’d all remember by getting the word out and holding a baby frolic!” she exclaimed. “So while the menfolk are setting up the tables for a picnic outside, we gals can have a little hen party for you, Leah—”
“We brought along a big batch of bird’s-eye cotton for sewing diapers after dinner!” Cora Miller called out.
“We shared most of our spare baby things last time Jude came asking for them,” Rose Wagler remarked, “so we’ve also brought fabric for onesies and little dresses—”
“Not to mention another surprise we think you’ll find useful,” Mama chimed in from a couple rows in front of Leah. “But instead of talking about it, let’s go out on the porch and take a look!”
“Jah, and we’ll get out of the men’s way while they handle the meal setup,” Naomi put in with a laugh.
“Now wait just a minute.” The district’s deacon, Saul Hartzler, stood up with a scowl on his swarthy face, silencing the excited crowd. “This being Sunday, you women aren’t to be doing such work as sewing—especially with a sewing machine.”
“Ah, but this is a frolic,” Margaret countered quickly. “And my son the bishop gave me permission to organize this hen party, considering the circumstances Leah and Jude face now that Betsy’s come back without any clothes or diapers.”
Martha Maude Hartzler rose to address her son as well. “This is no different from you men giving feed and water to the livestock on Sunday,” she pointed out. “Animals have to eat on the Sabbath, and babies have to dirty their diapers no matter what day of the week it is.”
Laughter filled the room. As Leah situated Betsy in her basket, the women all began chattering excitedly as they headed outside. Leah welcomed the breeze as she stepped onto the porch, where Mama and Margaret were already standing with bright smiles lighting their faces. With a flourish they lifted a sheet that had been draped over some large, lumpy items that must’ve been positioned and covered after Leah had entered the house.
“A new washing machine!” she gasped as her hand flew to her mouth.
“Jah, with two wee ones in diapers, you’ll be doing a lot of laundry,” Mama explained. She was smiling as though she were the one receiving the gifts, probably because she and Margaret had so quickly organized this surprise party without Leah knowing about it.
So much for Mama going to Cedar Creek yesterday for her clothes and such, Leah thought. She really went to the mercantile—maybe with Margaret and some of these other ladies.
“We got lots of baby bottles, too, and a new pot for warming them on the stove,” Delores Floud said, pointing at the box of items on the floor.
“And diaper pins and ointment and wipes—”
“And a new bassinet—”
“And the pillow and sheets to go with it—”
“And little stuffed toys—”
“And sippy cups and baby bowls—”
“Oh, my word,” Leah said as she tried to keep up with the ladies’ rapid-fire responses. She set Betsy’s basket on the porch floor and approached the huge assortment of gifts these women—truly her friends now rather than just curious neighbors—had accumulated for her on very short notice. “I—I don’t know how I can possibly thank you all for helping us yet again.”
“It’s what friends do, Leah,” Anne Hartzler said gently. “Where would any of us be without other hens to cluck with when we need them?”
Leah smiled, unable to argue with that statement. The door banged behind them, and Stevie quickly made his way through the gathered women to stand beside her.
“Wow-ee!” he blurted out as he gawked at the items arranged on the porch. “It’s even better than Christmas! We got stuff for Betsy—and we’ll be ready for the new baby, too! But don’t go sewin’ a lot of pink stuff, coz it’s gonna be a boy. I just know it.”
The women laughed, and when one of them held the door open, the men began carrying long tables outside. Jude caught Leah’s eye and came up beside her with two folding chairs in each hand. When he saw the assortment of gifts, he nodded.
“You ladies outdid yourselves—and I’m grateful for all your help on such short notice,” he said. “If anybody deserves a party, it’s Leah.”
“Hear, hear!” Margaret said. “Any woman who can steer my granddaughters back onto the straight and narrow while taking on another girl’s child—twice—gets my vote.”
Leah gaped. Was this her mother-in-law, the same Margaret Shetler who’d made a cruel joke at the wedding about her inability to cook?
“Jah, Leah doesn’t just sit around making tiny stitches in a quilt,” Naomi put in with a nod. “She’s out there doing things for people, and getting involved. I had my doubts about her ever getting along with Alice and Adeline, but I’m a believer now.”
“My life—my family—would be a hopeless mess if Leah hadn’t married me.” Jude gazed at her with a wistful sigh. “Happy first Mother’s Day, Leah. All these things piled on the porch are nothing compared to the gift of love you give me every day.”
Leah was speechless. She saw envy on the faces of other wives, while the twins and their friends were aglow with romantic wistfulness. Had there ever been another husband as attentive and expressive as Jude? Even Esther and Naomi were nodding their approval of his admission.
Another table came through the door, with Jeremiah carrying one end of it. He looked toward Leah and Jude with a warm smile. “I have a confession,” he said to all the friends gathered on his big porch. “I was wrong—and I’m glad.”
Folks glanced at one another with questioning expressions, waiting for the bishop to explain his odd admission. Jeremiah set down his end of the table so he could slip his arms around Jude and Leah.
“Remember that tough talk I was giving you the night before you married this woman, little brother?” Jeremiah asked. “I believed you were rushing into marriage with Leah, and I couldn’t see any way for her to fit into your family. I stand corrected.”
Leah felt her cheeks heating up as the friends around her nodded.
“You weren’t the only one, son,” Margaret chimed in. “I thought Jude was making the biggest mistake of his life because Leah bore no resemblance to our idea of what a wife should be like. Nobody’s happier than I am that Leah has proved us wrong.”
Jude began chuckling, and he elbowed his brother. “Jah, I recall your lecture the night before our wedding,” he teased Jeremiah, “and I said that someday we’d look back on it and laugh, because Leah and I would be deliriously happy. Am I a prophet, or what?”
Leah chuckled, because she was deliriously happy. “Mama gave me the same sort of talk before we married, Jude—with the best of intentions,” she added, smiling at her mother. “Considering all we’ve come through since that wedding on December first, I can only believe that God has made our life together—our happiness—possible. Without His blessing, we wouldn’t be standing here sharing our joy with all these friends, looking forward to more happiness ahead. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.”
Jude’s smile made Leah feel like the most beautiful woman on earth. “That’s your story, and I wouldn’t change a word of it,” he murmured. “I’m just grateful that you’ve written me into it, sweet Leah.”