Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you. – Matthew 5:3-12
Thomas, with his puffy, blond kitten, Sun, tucked into the front pocket of his bib overalls, stuck his fingers in his ears. “Ach du lieva, Schwestie. I have never heard such a screaming bopplin before.”
Rebekah hung her head. She had brought Lil’ Bit out onto the front porch in hopes that some fresh air and sunshine might do him some good. Thomas, who had been helping Joseph in the barn, had meandered over to see his little nephew when he noticed them outside. However, the screeching from the tiny buwe made him stop short.
“Beanie never did this, you know.” Thomas thought for a moment. “Well, maybe he did once or twice. But not all the time like Lil’ Bit does.”
Frazzled, Rebekah unwrapped Lil’ Bit and began to massage his belly. He was almost one month old, but still so tiny. Her milk, what little bit there was of it, did not satiate him in the least. Each feeding left both even more frustrated after it was over than before they started.
Thomas removed his fingers from his ears and snapped them loudly. “I think I know, Schwestie. I think I know what his problem is.”
“And what is that?”
I am so desperate to get my bopplin some relief I might try anything. So go ahead Thomas, make your suggestion.
Thomas puffed his chest. “He came too early. He needs to go back in for a while. That way when he comes out next time, he will not be so…loud.”
Definitely not taking that suggestion.
Molly Raber, the young maedel they had hired to help, ventured onto the porch with a pitcher and glass bottle in tow. “More watermelon seed tea for the bopplin?” She glanced at Thomas. “Are you up for a race later?” she asked.
Rebekah snickered. She was just a few years older than Thomas, but she was as full of boundless energy as any three Stoll boys. Between the bopplin and regular household chores, her help around the house had been a Gotte-send.
“Danki, Molly.” Rebekah offered her a wry smile, something that was harder and harder to do with each passing day. No matter how much she tried to force her lips to curve into a smile, it was a chore to make happen. “Watermelon seed tea would be wunderbaar. And I am certain Thomas would love to take you up on that race later. Wouldn’t you Thomas?”
Thomas did not answer.
Molly smiled. “Can I give the bopplin his bottle?”
Rebekah passed Lil’ Bit to her just as Mrs. Raber, Molly’s mother, came up the front walk. “Gut daag, Rebekah, Thomas. Hallo, Dochder.”
The older woman’s face broke into friendly planes as smile lines fanned from her eyes back into the graying bits of hair that were visible from under her black covering. “How is the bopplin?”
Rebekah shook her head in minuscule shakes. “Your dochder has been a wonderful gute help, Mrs. Raber. I do not know what I would do without her.” She flickered a smile to Molly, whose red hair flowed in flaming tendrils from around her white not-yet-married covering. She grinned.
Sun, Thomas’s kitten, leaped from his pocket and dashed through the tall, Indiana grass with reckless abandon. With a squeal and without a second look at Molly, Thomas turned and dashed off after him.
Mrs. Raber giggled, then turned her attention to Rebekah. “How is your milk, dear?”
Rebekah shook her head again. “It is not anything except a source of frustration. Certainly not a source of nourishment.”
“I thought you may say that.” Mrs. Raber produced a handful of green leaves from her apron pocket. “This is an herb that will help. Fenugreek. Molly and I will make this into a tea for you. You will drink it often through the day. It is helpful for bringing in the milk.” She disappeared into the house, with Molly and a fussing Lil’ Bit right on her heels.
Joseph stepped out of the barn and into the sunshine. He was still in the process of restoring the burned bits from the accidental barn fire that almost cost all their animals their lives, and Joseph’s too. It turned out he had tripped and tipped over a lantern. Before he had even realized what he’d done, the hay had caught fire and things got out of hand much too quickly.
Normally, he would have had the barn, or anything else made of wood and in need of fixing, refurbished in no time. But with her sickness and the birth of their bopplin, his being able to restore the barn had turned from a weeks-long project into a months-long project. Joseph looked at her. Their eyes met briefly across the yard, then he looked away.
Rebekah tried to pretend that his looking away did not hurt. After all, they had not spoken since she confronted him about the secret letter to Katie a month prior. Not about the letter or about anything at all. In fact, a blind man could see that he was avoiding her, plain and simple. Strangely, Rebekah was somewhat relieved by his avoidance of her since she had taken equal care to avoid him, as well. The silence may not have fixed the Katie issue, but it certainly kept it from ripping open and spilling any more blood.
Still, something ached in her heart when he was near.
You miss him, Rebekah. And it kills you that he does not seem to miss you, too.
He flickered another glance in her direction before disappearing, stone-faced, back into the barn.
“Hallo?”
Rebekah jumped.
Unbeknownst to her, while she and Joseph were not not looking at each other, Mrs. Fuhs had appeared on the porch behind her. Elizabeth Fuhs and her husband, Richard, had moved to Gasthof Village from Lancaster County just after she and Joseph married. Rebekah liked the older woman a great deal and trusted her judgment immensely.
“I have something for you, Rebekah dear.” Mrs. Fuhs pointed to a bucket near the stairs. “Raw milk. For the bopplin.”
“Raw?”
She nodded. “Ja. Freshly milked just moments ago.”
“Danki, Mrs. Fuhs.” She smiled. “I will ask Molly to make the bopplin a bottle when she has time. She is giving him some watermelon seed tea, now.”
“It is all we used to settle the bopplins in Lancaster County.” Her old eyes, gray with age, misted. It was well known among the families that comprised Gasthof Village that the reason the Fuhs’ relocated from Pennsylvania was due to a tragic buggy crash. One slippery road, a loose buggy wheel, and a skittish horse all conspired to claim the life of her only son and his young family. He was around about Rebekah’s age, and he and his wife had just welcomed a newborn bopplin sohn of their own. Rebekah could not begin to imagine the pain she suffered just waking up and getting on with life each day.
Mrs. Fuhs laid her gnarled hand on Rebekah’s shoulder. “Is your mater inside?”
“No, Grossmammi Fuhs.” Rebekah shook her head. “She is home. My fater is not well.”
“I see. I will pop in and check on her next.” She gave Rebekah’s shoulder a squeeze. “Goodbye, for now, sweet maedel.”
As soon as Mrs. Fuhs disappeared down the lane in her buggy, Heloise drove up. Rebekah still had not recovered her strength after losing so much blood during her delivery, even though she had been drinking rusty nail water two times per day, as instructed by the Englischer Dr. Williamson, and getting all the rest she could stand. Still, she found herself becoming exhausted by even the most menial of tasks, and the welcoming of guests and nodding and smiling proved to be the most menial and most exhausting of them all.
“Hallo Rebekah!” Heloise called as she marched up the front porch steps, with a beaming grin on her grossmammi face. “I had an epiphany. Is Joseph in the barn?”
“Hallo.” Rebekah nodded. “Ja, he is in the barn.”
“Joseph!” his mother called. “Komme mit mir! Quickly!”
Joseph and his little shadow, Thomas, dashed out of the barn. “Mater! Is all, okay?”
“Better than okay. You and Thomas go fetch a bucket of milk from Buttermilk.” She winked at Rebekah. “Then meet me in the kitchen. Today, the bopplin will eat well and be happy.”
Joseph did not meet his wife’s glance this time, though she looked at him with heavy eyes made heavier still by his retreat to the barn, to do as his mother instructed.
Joseph, I do. I do miss you so.
She cut off her thought.
I miss him. He obviously misses Katie.
She smiled up at Heloise. “Mrs. Fuhs brought some raw milk a moment ago. I have not tried it yet. Nobody knows, but I have been substituting with strained milk,” Rebekah confessed in quiet tones. “Mine still has yet come in enough to really be of use to feed a growing buwe. My milk does nothing for him except frustrate him all the more. And me, too.”
Failure.
“We are going to try something different,” Heloise said matter-of-factly. “Today, we will heat Buttermilk’s milk and let the bopplin try that in his bottle.”
Rebekah nodded and forced yet another smile. “What helped come up with that idea?”
“I was praying. For you, my son, and the bopplin.”
Rebekah’s gaze dropped from Heloise’s hopeful face. Instead, she studied her hands, which were knotted in her lap. “I am sure it will be just what the bopplin needs. Danki, Grossmammi Heloise.”
Joseph and Thomas finished their task quickly and strode up the steps with the sloshing milk bucket. “Here, give it to me.” Heloise took it into the house. Joseph just ducked his head and Thomas tucked his fiery ball of kitten into his front pouch pocket, yet again.
By the time Rebekah managed to get up and into the house and all the way through the kitchen, Buttermilk’s milk was already simmering on the stove. Joseph did not even look up when she sat down at their table.
He had finished the dining room chairs at some point in the last month, as evidenced by their sudden appearance at their dining table. He had said nothing of it to Rebekah, who still took most of her meals in her room, and Rebekah had said nothing of them being finished to him. The fact of the matter was they were beautifully done, all four of them.
When she went to pull hers up to the table, she noticed something on Thomas’s chair beside hers. She leaned to inspect it, but before she could get a good look, Heloise clapped her hands together. “Milk is done for the bopplin! Someone, quick, hand Grossmammi Heloise a bottle so she can feed her Lil’ Bit!”
Sure enough, Lil’ Bit took the warm milk hungrily from Grossmammi Heloise. He drank and drank and, for the first time, finished everything he was offered. When his bottle was empty and he had produced a glorious burp that impressed Thomas, he seemed almost satiated. Satiated, but not happy. Like her. His ever-present whimper was proof enough of that.
Heloise smiled at her daughter-in-law. “I hope this helps, Rebekah.”
Joseph, who had glanced at her gleefully when Lil’ Bit finished his bottle, had remembered himself and their silent truce. He pushed back from the table and left the dining room and disappeared into another part of the house. Sun, not content to be a pouch-cat, had disappeared somewhere in the house, too. Thomas, being the doting cat-dat that he was, had gone to find him.
Rebekah sat across from Heloise at the table and bounced Lil’ Bit in her arms. “I hope so too,” she said. “Danki for praying for me. And for praying for all of us. Gotte knows we all need it.”
“It is just temporary, Rebekah, until your milk comes in,” Heloise said in a bright, hopeful voice that was in fact too bright. Too hopeful.
“If it does.” She bit her tongue and didn’t say what else weighed down her heart. I am a failure. Failure as a wife. Failure as a mother. Everything is going so wrong. So wunderbaar wrong.
“It will. It just takes time for some maters.” Heloise reached across the table and patted her hand softly.
Rebekah pressed her lips into another meaningless smile, more exhausted now than ever before.