Chapter 9

After Sister Erma and Lukas departed for Sunday meeting, the two girls assigned to help during meeting set to work washing the breakfast dishes while I worked with Sister Margaret preparing the noonday meal. There were always fewer workers on Sunday mornings, and Sister Erma rotated the schedule. She wanted each woman to have an opportunity to attend Sunday meeting as often as possible. Since I hadn’t yet decided to attend church services, my presence in the kitchen allowed the others more frequent church attendance. I liked the rotating schedule, for it gave me an opportunity to become better acquainted with each of the sisters.

This would be my second time to work with Sister Margaret on a Sunday morning, and I had been pleased when Sister Erma told me she was scheduled to work. Sister Margaret was close to Sister Erma’s age and had been working in the Küche since she’d turned fourteen years old. Her abilities far surpassed my own, and I was pleased to have her take charge.

She ran her finger down the posted menu and shook her head. “There will be some unhappy children today.”

I peeked over her shoulder. “Liver dumplings?”

“Ja. The little ones complain when we serve them, but we cannot waste.” She shrugged her shoulders. “When the butcher brings us liver, we prepare and serve liver. You want to learn how to make them?”

If I ever left the colonies, I doubted liver dumplings would be a dish I’d prepare. On the other hand, as long as I was living here, I might as well learn. “I’ll be glad to follow your instructions.”

She gave a firm nod. “Gut. I like that you are willing to learn something new. First we must grind the liver and pork.”

While I tightened the metal meat grinder on the edge of the worktable, Sister Margaret put both of the other girls to work peeling potatoes. “Once they are pared and in cold water, you need to grate radishes for the radish salad.” She started toward me but stopped and turned back to the girls. “Before you start the potatoes, go to the cellar and bring up eight quarts of applesauce. Be careful not to drop them.”

One of the girls lifted a lantern from the hook as they walked outside. Inside the kitchen the loud creak of the cellar doors caused me to shiver. I’d made only one trip into the clammy storage rooms beneath the kitchen, and that had been with Sister Erma by my side. I wondered if the girls were as frightened as I’d been when I descended the wooden steps into those dank, shadowy rooms. I would much prefer grinding meat.

I’d finished grinding only half of the liver when I stopped for a moment and rubbed my upper arm. Sister Margaret stepped closer. “Your arm is hurting, ja?” She nudged me aside. “I will take a turn. You help the girls. They cut off half the potatoes when they try to peel them.” She tsked and turned away.

The two girls grinned at me. They’d made little progress and Sister Margaret was correct in her assessment. If they continued cutting so deep into the potatoes, there wouldn’t be much left to cook. After observing for a few moments, I stopped them and picked up a knife.

I could see they were both fearful of cutting themselves, and they weren’t properly grasping or turning the potatoes. “You need to hold it like this and control the movement with your thumb as you slowly turn the potato.” I finished mine and then handed the knife to one of the girls. “Now you do it.” I had to correct her only one time, but soon she had gained confidence, so I turned to the other one. Though it took her a little longer, they soon were doing a good job.

Once the pork and liver had been ground and the potatoes set to boil, Sister Margaret sent the two young helpers to the dining room. “Make sure the silverware, napkins, and plates are in place, the pitchers filled with water, and the small bowls filled with jam. Open the jars of applesauce and pour the contents into the two large crocks.”

“Which ones?” the girls asked in unison.

Sister Margaret sighed and pointed to a shelf. “Those two. Now hurry along, and when you’ve finished, come and see if I need you to do anything else.” She’d barely had time to take a breath before she waved me forward.

“Come over here, Sister Andrea. We need to mix the dumplings.”

The ground liver and pork, along with bread crumbs, eggs, flour, minced onions, and seasonings, were placed in a large bowl. While I began to combine the mixture, Sister Margaret soaked chunks of dry bread in water and then pressed out the excess water. Once completed, she poured the dampened bread into the liver concoction. I continued the mixing process while she prepared the dressing for the radish salad.

Instead of forming the liver mixture into balls, I dropped the mixture by teaspoonfuls into the boiling salted water. Sister Margaret said it was faster, and I think she was right. However, some of my dumplings were much larger than others, and I hoped they wouldn’t be raw inside. If that happened, I was sure there would be complaints.

A short time later, the bells rang and soon Sister Erma bustled into the kitchen and donned her apron. I glanced up from my dumpling duties. “Meeting was good?”

Sister Erma nodded and then looked in the boiling pot of water. I was thankful she didn’t mention the fact that the dumplings weren’t uniform in size. She arched her brows. “The extra bread crumbs to top the dumplings?”

“They’re browning in the oven,” Sister Margaret said. “We’ll put them on the dumplings right before we serve. I didn’t want them to get cold.”

“Gut. I knew I could count on you, Sister Margaret.”

Moments later, the meal was complete. The browned bread crumbs were sprinkled over the liver dumplings. Fresh parsley dotted the buttered boiled potatoes, and the sliced radishes were mixed with creamy dressing. Nutmeg was grated over the applesauce, and heaping plates of bread and bowls of jam were in place on the tables.

What had taken all morning to prepare was devoured in fifteen minutes. And those fifteen minutes had been far too long for Lukas. I barely had time to remove my apron before he appeared in the kitchen and announced Brother Dirk would return with the wagon in fifteen minutes.

Dirk

Sister Erma, Sister Andrea, and Lukas were waiting on the wooden sidewalk in front of the kitchen house when I arrived with the wagon. Lukas bounced from foot to foot while I helped his mother and Sister Erma into the wagon.

I reached out and gently squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “Would you like to sit up front between your Mutter and me?”

“Ja!” He bobbed his head with boyish enthusiasm.

I hoisted Lukas onto the seat, and after I climbed aboard, the boy glanced over his shoulder. “Will you be lonely sitting by yourself, Sister Erma?”

The older woman chuckled. “Nein. I think I will be fine sitting by myself for a short time. Besides, with no one on either side of me, I’ll have a clear view of all the scenery along the way.” She pointed in the distance. “Did you see the woodpecker over there, Lukas?”

He twisted in his seat and looked back and forth. “Where? I don’t see anything.”

Sister Erma folded her hands in her lap and grinned. “I told you I have a much better view.”

We’d gone only a short distance when Lukas tugged on his mother’s sleeve. “I didn’t like those liver balls we had for lunch, Mama. They didn’t taste good. Let’s don’t have them anymore.”

I gave the reins a light slap and chuckled as I recalled feeling the same way as a young boy. “There are foods that each of us likes better than others, Lukas, but there is one rule that is very important, so I want you to listen closely.”

The boy gave him a wide-eyed stare. “What?”

“Never tell the cooks you don’t like their food. If you insult the cooks, they might decide they don’t want to cook anymore, and then what would we do?” Using my free hand, I patted my stomach. “We would all become very hungry, and that would not be gut.” I leaned a little closer to the boy. “Maybe the next time we have liver dumplings, you should fill up your plate with more potatoes and salad and take only one small dumpling, ja?”

Instead of trying to convince Lukas the liver would make him grow big and strong, I’d used a technique my father had used with me: Provide a solution rather than a lecture.

Lukas nodded. “Maybe I won’t take any dumplings at all. That would be even better.”

“Now that you know you do not like them, you could do that. But you should always try new foods before you make a decision. Sometimes we can be fooled by the way things look.”

Lukas pinched his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “And the way they smell. Cabbage stinks when it is cooking.”

I glanced over his head at Sister Andrea to gauge her reaction. She shrugged her shoulders and nodded. “He’s right. I’m glad it tastes better than it smells.”

“And our Amana cabbages are the best for making sauerkraut, too,” Sister Erma put in.

I patted Lukas’s leg before he could comment on the sauerkraut. Sister Erma might not be offended if someone didn’t like liver dumplings, but she would be slow to forgive any criticism of her sauerkraut.

I decided a change of topic might be in order. “Did you tell your Mutter what we’ve been making at the shop?”

Lukas straightened his shoulders. “Werner drew some new patterns and we’re going to make them.”

“Patterns for what?” Sister Erma asked.

“Some kettles that are shaped different than the old ones, some new cookie cutters, and some other stuff—I don’t remember everything.” The boy twisted around to face the older woman. “You can come and see at the tin shop. Can’t she, Brother Dirk?”

“Ja. I am sure Werner would be glad to hear any of your ideas or suggestions for new kitchen tools, Sister Erma. His new designs have been well received by some of the outsiders who do business at our shop. I have seen his confidence begin to grow since he’s been helping with new designs.”

“I do not know that I could suggest anything new, but I will come by and see his latest designs. Anything that makes our work easier in the Küche is a gut thing. Maybe he should figure out a tool to help shape our liver dumplings. What do you think about that, Lukas?”

Lukas wrinkled his nose at the suggestion. “I think cookie cutters would be better.”

Sister Erma chuckled and then pointed to the fields we were passing on our journey. “All of this land belongs to our people, Lukas. More than twenty thousand acres.”

“How many sheep?” The boy wiggled around to look at her.

Sister Erma chuckled. “Sheep. That is all you want to think about. I am sure the head shepherd in East can tell you, but I have heard the men say there are more than three thousand sheep. Not so many cows or hogs, and a lot less horses, don’t you think, Brother Dirk?”

I nodded. “Ja, less than three hundred horses. So we are very fortunate that Brother Herman gave permission for us to have a wagon and horses today.”

Lukas frowned. “I think three hundred is a lot. How many did my grandpa have on his farm, Mama?”

“I’m not sure, Lukas. Probably fewer than ten.”

A gust of wind whipped through the trees, and Lukas clapped his hand atop his straw hat. “How come you need so many in West, Brother Dirk?”

“The land and animals are located in all seven villages, not just in West. There are more people, so we need more of everything.” I cocked an eyebrow. “Understand?”

“I think so.”

As the wagon rumbled along the dirt road, the warmth of the sun lulled Lukas, and he rested his head against his mother’s shoulder. Once the boy went through a growing spurt, he’d soon be taller than Andrea. Her features were delicate, yet she possessed strength of spirit and protection that many women lacked. There was no doubt her love ran deep for the little boy sitting beside her. And though his hair was several shades lighter than hers, they both possessed the same curly locks—his untamed, hers pulled into a tight knot near the nape of her neck. Only occasionally did a wispy curl pull loose and frame her pale complexion. I forced myself to turn away when she glanced in my direction.

As we neared Lily Pond, she squeezed the boy’s arm. “Look, Lukas.”

Lukas stared in wonderment at the lily pads that floated atop the water and gave the appearance of a hovering green carpet. He strained forward for a better look. “Are there fish in there?”

I nodded my head. “Ja, there are fish. The lily pads cover the water and help to keep it cool for the fish in the summer.”

Lukas stared at the pond for a moment longer. “But it would be hard to fish in there. I think my line would get tangled in the lily pads.”

I winked at him. “Then it is gut you don’t have to fish here.”

Andrea pulled him close and he returned his head to her shoulder. How wonderful it would be if this could last. Since his arrival, I had become more and more attached to Lukas. More and more often, I had to remind myself that he was not my son. Yet the thought of living the rest of my life with this boy and his mother was never far from my mind. I could envision sharing my love with them, helping Lukas become a strong and upright young man while also enjoying Sister Andrea’s endearing qualities.

Andrea’s devotion to her son had first won my admiration, but I now found other things that kept drawing me closer to her. I had noticed the way she treated Sister Erma with much respect and love, and I’d watched the way her faith seemed to be blossoming here in the colonies. Most of all, I’d noticed she did not speak ill of her deceased husband, although I was certain she had cause to do so. Never had I met a woman so full of grace and inner strength.

I’d done my best to squelch thoughts of Andrea, but I’d been unsuccessful. No doubt she would eventually leave, but even that thought hadn’t been enough to curtail my imagination. I had forced myself to remain mindful she was still in mourning, and I pushed aside the idea that the elders would likely find her an unsuitable match for me. After all, she’d not yet decided to become one of us.

Thus far, those thoughts hadn’t impacted my prayers. In truth, I’d decided that if faith the size of a mustard seed could move a mountain, I had enough faith to keep Andrea and Lukas in West Amana. God knew the desire of my heart. God knew the depth of my faith.

Lukas roused to attention as we neared the sheep barn in East. “Hurry, Brother Dirk. Make the horses go faster.”

I laughed at Lukas’s enthusiasm. At his age, I’d felt much the same way when my mother and father had brought me to see the sheep. In fact, I still enjoyed the sight. I pulled back on the reins, set the brake on the wagon, and alighted. I held my arms out to Lukas and set him on the ground before helping Sister Erma down. My hands lingered on Sister Andrea’s waist a moment longer than necessary as I lifted her down from the wagon, and the pink in her cheeks told me she’d noticed.

A crowd was gathered near the far end of the barn. While we were walking, I pointed in that direction. “There’s a door down there where the sheep can move in and out. Sometimes when the lambs are very young, the shepherds keep them close to the barn. But some of the ones that are a little older will be running around.”

Lukas grasped Sister Erma’s hand. “Come on, Sister Erma. Let’s see if we can count more lambs than Mama and Brother Dirk.”

“I think we’ve received a challenge. Shall we hurry to catch up with them?” Sister Andrea nodded toward Lukas and Sister Erma, who had picked up the pace.

Dirk shook his head. “I think we will have plenty of time. If not, we’ll have to count some of them twice.” Sister Andrea’s mouth dropped open, and I laughed. “Don’t worry. I was only joking.”

Wild flowers bloomed along the path, and the scent of hay carried on the breeze as we continued toward the barn.

Andrea grinned in response to my words. “I want you to know how much I appreciate the time you take with Lukas. He admires you very much, and you’ve had a wonderful influence upon him. He tells me he is going to be a tinsmith when he grows up.”

Her words pleased me, but it was her charming smile that warmed my heart. “Having him at the shop has been gut for both of us. He makes my days brighter. And so do you.” She stopped midstep and stared at me. I wanted to bite back the words, but that would be impossible. “I’m sorry. I should not have said that.”

“Perhaps not, but it is nice to know that Lukas and I brighten your days.”

I hoped she would say that I brightened hers, as well, but given her time of mourning, that was too much to ask. For now I would be content and continue to pray.