15

In the fourth week of August, the peach harvest coincided for ten days with the start of Golden Supreme apples, and a week or so after that, the sweet Galas. This was “the overlap,” as Ellie’s father often referred to those hectic days, which meant a new crew of apple pickers joined the crew of peach pickers who had been working for weeks. Menno was one of those who showed up just after dawn, and while Ellie had her own chores making apple pies, fritters, and cider for the family store and market, she was aware of Menno’s attentive gaze each time she glanced his way. This made her smile, as she enjoyed her time with him, though they were still only double-dating.

During one of the overlap days, Ellie was driving the smaller horse-drawn wagon with bushels of apples to the cider shed, and Sol was coming from the other end of the orchard in the spring wagon with more bushels to unload. He halted Nelly and jumped out to tie the mare to the hitching post in front of the shed.

Spotting Ellie, Sol came around and looked up at her. “Let me haul them in for ya.”

“Denki, but ain’t necessary.” She walked along with him to deposit the first bushel with Rudy, who was already turning the cast-iron wheel and grinding another big batch of apples Dat and his crew had brought in earlier. Mamm had hosed them off and was feeding the newly washed apples into the hopper.

Sol headed back down the wood ramp for more bushels and quickly returned.

Ellie thanked him again.

“Anytime,” Sol said before turning to go out for more.

“Someone’s mighty attentive,” Rudy said, grinning at her.

“He just likes to help” was all Ellie said. She sure didn’t want to get tongues wagging about her and Sol being too friendly. It wouldn’t be right. And besides, it wasn’t true. Not really.

Ellie suddenly awakened during the night and heard the patter of rain on the roof. Often when rain showers came, she relished the comforting sound in her room. And sometimes, if it was warm enough outdoors, she’d creep downstairs and sit on the porch in her bathrobe, breathing in the wonderful earthy scent of the rain.

Once, soon after moving into this uppermost bedroom, she’d spotted a leak and hurried downstairs to get a bucket from the utility room, then fell asleep to the steady drip, drip. In the morning, she let Dat know, and he and Evan got out the extension ladder and patched the roof.

Now she drowsily sat up in bed and contemplated Leah’s thoughtful letter from a while back, her heart reaching across the miles to her friend. Leah wishes she could have continued with baptism instruction, she thought, getting out of bed. On bare tiptoes, she crossed the hardwood floor, where she paced the length of her room and back to the steady rhythm of the thrumming rain.

A few minutes later, she saw a light flash outside and moved to a dormer window to check. Over near the carriage shed, she could see Evan leading Cupcake to the stable, his flashlight pointing the way.

It’s so late, she thought, recalling his surprising comment that Cheryl Herr said she would wait for him to return home.

After Ellie’s morning chores, she put on her harvest bag to help pick apples and spotted Menno working with Evan and Titus farther up the row. Menno smiled at her broadly, and she smiled back, glad things had worked out for him to be a part-time picker again.

Later, when she was emptying her apples into bushel baskets, she noticed Dawdi Hezekiah heading her way. “Are ya comin’ to pick with me?” she asked.

“For a while,” he said, his shoulder straps already hooked to a long gray harvesting bag like those the other pickers used. His silver-white bangs peeked out from beneath his straw hat, and he was wearing his old frayed black suspenders. “Remember when I first showed ya how to know when an apple’s close to its peak of ripeness?”

“Jah. I was only four. You told me to hold the bottom of the apple, then lift it up against the stem and twist. If it comes off, it’s ready. If not, it needs more time to ripen.”

Dawdi chuckled. “’Tis a mighty happy memory, teachin’ ya that day.”

“I was the same age as the young boy Leah Bontrager takes care of in Chambersburg.”

“Really, now?”

Ellie mentioned that Leah had taught Bobby to say the Lord’s Prayer and sing “Jesus Loves the Little Children.” “Isn’t that wunnerbaar?”

Dawdi was quiet for a moment, then said, “Well, that prayer and the little song might just change the youngster’s life.”

“Maybe his family’s, too, opening their hearts to God,” Ellie added, thankful for Leah’s strong faith.

“We can pray so.”

Ellie’s cloth bag was getting heavy again, so she walked up to the spring wagon, breathing in the fresh, fruity scent of the pretty red and green apples, and carefully emptied her harvest into a partially filled box. Then she returned to Dawdi.

After picking for a while longer, Dawdi poured his bagful into one of the many bushel baskets, then placed the basket on the spring wagon. When he returned with his empty harvest bag, he wiped his brow with his blue paisley handkerchief.

“What have you been up to lately, Dawdi? I’ve noticed you’ve been heading out some evenings.”

He gave a nod. “Jah. I’ve been building my coffin over at Rudy’s place, and it’s nearly done.”

“Ach, I’d hoped ya’d forgotten ’bout that.”

“Figured ya might.” Dawdi gave her a little smile as he reached for the empty bag and hooked his shoulder straps into it. “The undertaker is scheduled to come for it in a few days and store it for me. Or maybe one of my brothers’ll need it—we’re all ’bout the same height, ya know—whoever the Lord calls home first.”

“Aww, Dawdi. It’s just hard for me to joke ’bout. Ain’t ’cause I don’t care. It’s ’cause I do.”

He reached to pick an especially large apple, then placed it gently in his bag. “Preparation for life is just as important. And also what you’ll be doin’ on Baptism Sunday next month, makin’ the most precious and holy vow there is.”

Captured by the urgency in his voice, she looked at him, this kindhearted and compassionate man who would do anything for her. And anything for the Lord and His people.

“Just think what our Savior gave up—all the glory of heaven—to come to this old world. And like you and me, He came as a newborn babe. To think He lived a mighty short thirty-three-year life and then willingly surrendered it up to Calvary’s cross . . .” Dawdi inhaled slowly. “Makes ya want to give all your days to Him. Every breath till the very last.”

“I certainly do, Dawdi.”

“Just remember, when ya take your kneeling vow before Gott and the People, I’ll be relivin’ my own baptism, so long ago.” He paused to look at her with tender eyes.

Nodding solemnly, she gazed at the trees laden with beautiful apples—this orchard that had always pointed her toward the heavenly Father. His presence is ever near, she thought. How blessed I am . . . and so grateful!

After breakfast dishes were done the next morning, Ellie hurried through her household chores of dusting, sweeping, and redding up, wanting to pick the last of the peaches with Evan.

She remembered the verse in Hebrews she’d read during her devotions that morning: Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and to day, and for ever.

Our faithful Savior doesn’t change, she thought, heartened. I can depend on Him.

Later, when she found Evan working with Menno, Ellie kept walking up the grassy pathway, searching for a tree that needed harvesting.

“Ellie!” Menno called to her. “I’ll trade places with ya, if you wanna pick with Evan.”

Surprised that he seemed to know why she’d come, she turned around. “Okay.” She headed back toward them. “Denki.”

“Anytime,” Menno said, then scooted away.

He understands I want to spend as much time with Evan as possible, she thought, smiling at her brother as he reached for a high branch. She waited for him to speak first, keeping her focus on the harvesting for a good ten minutes before he finally did.

“I came off rude the day we went to town makin’ deliveries together. I’m sorry, Ellie.”

She nodded her acceptance. “It was gut we could talk even for a little while.”

Evan smiled. “Jah, and I do think it’d be nice to have plum and cherry trees, so ya should talk to Dat ’bout it.”

“I’ll sure miss pickin’ with ya out here,” she said, feeling the urge to tell him important things before he left instead of waiting to write them in a letter.

“I’ll miss ya, too, Ellie.” Her twin placed two peaches in the harvesting box strapped to his shoulders. “But I won’t be gone forever.”

She dared not ask if he meant he’d be coming home to live, concerned he might instead continue his relationship with Cheryl Herr and join the ranks of the fancy folk.

“Remember, we have right now,” Evan surprised her by saying.

“I’m so glad.” She moved around the other side of the peach tree. “And I wanna make the best of it.”

She paused to take in God’s masterful work of fruit trees and sun and sky as a gentle breeze stirred the leaves. She realized there was peace right here in the midst of this heavenly sort of place, despite the unpredictable storm churning around her family.