Anna Smucker finished putting the dishes in the cupboard just minutes before the kitchen timer buzzed. “Ach, I’m running late again, Mammi. Would you mind preparing something for supper tonight?” Her eyes pleaded.
“Liewi, I wished you didn’t have to run off every day.” Mammi shook her head.
“But you know we need the money. Sellin’ eggs ain’t enough to keep this farm running. If we could just get more tourists in here to buy up your quilts…ach, listen to me prattling on when I got a job to get to!” She shook her head.
“Of course, I’ll fix somethin’ up for us. Don’t you worry none.” Her kind grandmother patted her hand gently. “Now, geh.”
“Denki, Mammi.” Anna leaned over and placed a kiss on Mammi’s cheek. “Love you, Mammi. Have a gut day.”
Anna hurried out to her buggy. Thank goodness she’d had the forethought to hitch Brazen up early today. It seemed lately she couldn’t wake early enough to tend to all the chores around the place. There was so much that needed to be done, and she wasn’t about to leave the work for Mammi to tend to.
It had been a year since her father passed on to Glory. She’d never realized how much he did around the farm until he was gone. Knowing now what it took to keep the farm running, she wished she could go back and tell her father thank you for the countless hours he’d labored on their behalf.
As of last month, she’d sold off the last of the cattle. Now she and Mammi no longer received income from their milk. But after paying off their debts, the money they received from the sale was only enough to keep up with their mortgage payments until the end of the year.
Why, oh why, had her father mortgaged their land? She knew for a fact that Grossdawdi had left a tidy sum when he died. It would have been plenty to pay their debt in full. But instead, her adventurous father had ambitiously purchased five hundred head of cattle. The cows weren’t necessarily a bad idea, but they weren’t counting on her father passing away so quickly. He had yet to turn a profit.
When Anna approached other Amish ranchers in the community, none were able – or willing – to purchase the cattle. Apparently her father had been swindled. At least that’s what the Englischer said that graciously took the bovine off her hands. He claimed he was giving her a deal, paying even more than they were worth. Perhaps it was true. Dat had always dreamed of owning a cattle ranch. She was certain he wasn’t the first overzealous dreamer willing to pay whatever it took for a dream to become a reality. If only Dat hadn’t passed on…
Anna flicked the reins, hoping Brazen would get her to work on time. Although her boss knew about the situation at home and was sympathetic to her plight, she knew she wouldn’t be happy if she was late again. She had been kind enough to allow Mammi to sell her quilts in her fabric shop, although it seemed there weren’t too many tourists in their neck of the woods. She’d heard that quilts similar to her grossmudder’s sold for over a thousand dollars in some places where the tourist trade was rampant. Imagine that! But Mammi’s only went for a few hundred dollars; such a shame considering the quality work that she put into them.
But at least Anna had this job. That was something she could be thankful for. She always tried to look on the positive side of things. After all, there was not much she could do to change their circumstances. She would be grateful for the blessings they did have, because she’d always heard that there were countless others out there that had far less than she. Yes, Gott had been good to them.
<><><>
“Anna, go ahead and take your lunch break now,” her boss called from behind the register.
“All right,” Anna answered back, retrieving her purse and coat from the break room.
Linda’s eyes brightened as she nodded toward the front of the store. “Someone’s here for you, Anna.”
Anna poked her head around the corner. It was Aaron. He had shown interest in her for a year now, and just two months ago she’d accepted his offer to court her. They never had much chance to spend a lot of time together because they were both so busy – he with his dog-breeding business, and she with work and farm chores. Occasionally he would show up out of the blue and take her to lunch, which she thought was a nice gesture.
“Hi, Aaron. In town for somethin’ special today?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Nah, not really. Just had to pick up a few things for Dat at the hardware store.” He shrugged. “Ready to go?”
“Jah, I’ll let Linda know,” Anna said.
“Where would you like to go today?” Aaron asked, his handsome gray eyes sparkled.
She shrugged. “Pizza?”
“Pizza sounds great to me.” He grasped her small hand and led the way down the block.
<><><>
“Joseph! Joseph!” Joe startled out of an already fitful sleep. He lifted his head, glancing around the abandoned alley. No one was there. Had he truly heard a voice, or was his subconscious playing tricks on him again? No one’s called me Joseph in years. Not since…
He pulled the newspapers up over his body and around his neck in an attempt to keep the chill out. His tattered coat kept some of the elements out, but the gaping holes seemed to welcome every miniscule draft. Laying his head once again on the plastic grocery bag that held his old shirt, his eyelids drifted shut.
Joe was just on the verge of nocturnal ecstasy when the blasted voice called to him again. For Pete’s sake, can’t a man get a few minutes of sleep? He scowled inwardly. He raised his head again, but this time his mind was keenly aware of the body hovering over him.
“You need somethin’ Harvey?” Of course, he already knew the answer.
“Yeah, Joe. You got a smoke? I need one real bad.” His hands shook, evidencing the truth of the man’s words.
Grudgingly, Joe reached into his pants pocket and handed over a cigarette. “You really need to get your own and stop bummin’ off of others.”
“I know, I know. Just this one last time,” the older man said, lighting the end of his cancer stick. That’s what Joseph’s grandfather used to call cigarettes.
“You said that last time. The last ten times actually,” Joe stated wryly.
Harvey took a puff and offered it to Joe. He shook his head, rejecting his offer. “Tryin’ to quit,” he explained.
“Really, Joe? Then can I have –”
“No. You may not have the rest of my pack,” Joe answered, rising from his corner in the alley.
“Hey, where ya goin’ man?” Harvey called to him.
“Just stretchin’ my legs a bit. I’ll be back.”
“Can I use your papers while you’re gone?” the older man pleaded, holding up the rumpled mass of yesteryear’s news.
“Sure,” Joe stated, walking toward one of the main streets. Looking back at his shivering friend, he decided to turn back around. “Hey, man. Why don’t you take my coat too? I’ll be walkin’ so I’ll be plenty warm.”
“Thanks, Joe. ‘Preciate that.”
Joe rubbed his hands together to try to create a little friction. Boy was the air nippy today. He picked up his pace and strolled down the sidewalk, noticing the diverse displays in the shop windows. It seemed Christmas was upon them again. Another year alone, Joe thought bitterly. It had always been extremely difficult to keep thoughts of his childhood at bay this time of year.
He remembered how Mamm’s face would brighten when he’d bring in the pine boughs from outside. She used to decorate the house up right perty, he’d thought. And although their Christmases were always plain and simple, they had been special. He recalled a time when… Enough of that! He chided himself. This was his reality now. No matter how much he missed home, going back wasn’t an option. And never would be.
The wind picked up and a chill seeped through the holes in the back of his shirt where the seams wore thin. Mamm had been a gut seamstress, but even the best couldn’t sew seams to withstand several years of daily wear. He ducked into one of the nearby establishments. He hadn’t even the opportunity to warm himself before a not-so gentleman asked him to leave before he was given a police escort off the property.
As he stepped back out into the cold, he couldn’t help but notice that the other people on the sidewalk gave him wide berth. Some even went so far as to walk in the street to avoid him. He wasn’t surprised by the lack of sympathy the strangers possessed. After all, his family couldn’t stand the sight of him either.
If they could only see him now. His hair had naturally formed dreadlocks, hanging past his shoulders – a shame for sure and for certain. Because he’d lost so much weight, his worn trousers were now held up with an old bungee cord he’d found on the street. A sorry replacement for the suspenders he was used to wearing – those had busted last year. Harv had offered him some denim trousers that were in a little better shape, but they never felt right. His beard had grown to his chest, scraggly as ever. Back home, only married men were allowed to wear face whiskers. Married, he mused. Now that was a circumstance he’d never have to dwell on. He’d spent plenty of time thinking of what could’ve been, what should’ve been…
A blast of muddy rain water brought him back to the present once again. Couldn’t drivers be a little more considerate of folks walkin’ along the sidewalk? Now, he was not only cold, but wet too. And dirty. Not that he was exactly clean before he’d been sprayed with the gush of water. He didn’t remember the last time he’d taken a decent bath. Once in a while though, he would sneak into a fast food restaurant and use the restroom to freshen up a bit. No wonder people veered as far out of his path as possible, he probably reeked like a skunk. Or worse.
<><><>
Aaron and Anna made their way back toward the fabric shop. Anna’s lunch break was nearly over. She now held a Styrofoam box of leftover pizza in one hand, still warm.
“Watch out,” Aaron warned. “Here comes another beggar.”
Walking the opposite direction was a homeless man. By the look of him, she thought him to be in his early thirties. What would make one so young live on the streets?
As the man neared, she noticed his filthy clothing and couldn’t deny the offensive odor the hapless man emanated. Aaron pulled her arm to lead her far out of his path, but compassion took over. She looked down at the box of leftover pizza and knew what she must do. As she started to speak, Aaron halted her.
“Don’t give that to him. He’ll probably sell it for drugs,” he whispered loud enough that she was sure the destitute man had overheard.
Embarrassed by her beau’s judgmental assumptions, she attempted to hand the box to the man with a look of apology. Aaron’s hand grabbed the box and tossed it to the man, or more accurately, to the ground. Anna abruptly scowled at Aaron and bent down to pick up the box for the man.
“I’m sorry.” She handed the box to the stranger, her eyes apologetic. She couldn’t believe Aaron’s rudeness.
The man gratefully took the box and for a second, coddled it like a newborn boppli. Realizing his treasure, he immediately opened it, stuffing half a slice of the delicious goodness into his mouth. He nodded his thanks and sauntered off toward a nearby alley.
“What’d you do that for?” Aaron scolded.
Beside herself, Anna was simply at a loss for words. “Do what?” she asked between gritted teeth.
“You gave that…that vagrant our food after I told you not to! You disobeyed me.” He huffed.
“I – I disobeyed you?” she asked indignantly. She knew a woman’s place was to follow the man, but this seemed a little ridiculous. Besides, they weren’t married.
“How can I protect you when you won’t heed my warnings? That man could have been dangerous,” he clumsily explained his actions.
“He didn’t look dangerous to me. He just looked hungry. We’re supposed to feed the hungry, jah?”
Aaron sighed. “I guess you have a point. But I don't think it's a gut idea for you to be talking to homeless Englischers.”
She looked up and noticed they had arrived at her workplace.
“See ya at meetin’ on Sunday?” his voice softened a spell.
“Jah, Mammi and I should be there,” Anna said, glad he was leaving now.
Aaron waved a hand and started toward his buggy.
<><><>
“Here Harvey, ya gotta try this!” Joe excitedly offered his older friend a slice of pizza.
His companion bit into the cheesy delicacy. “Mmm…I ain’t had nothin’ this good in a long time. Ya didn’t steal it, did ya?”
“I may be a lot of things, Harv, but a thief I am not,” Joe assured his old buddy.
“Where’d ya get it from then?” He sank his chomps into another bite.
“A kind woman,” he simply stated.
“Must’ve been an angel,” Harv mused aloud.
Joe’s eyebrows rose. He remembered the Amish woman’s rosy cheeks and kind smile. “Perhaps.”
“Well, I hope you told her thank you,” Harvey said.
Did I tell her thank you? “I don’t think I did. Maybe I’ll see her again someday and I can tell her then.” The thought brought a smile to Joe’s lips.