CHAPTER
38

Wearing the navy blue head scarf, Gloria stood on tiptoes at the end of the line of women outside the farmhouse, the temporary house of worship for this Lord’s Day. Up ahead, she could see Leona with other women near her age, some married, some even considered Maidels by now. Maggie and Millie Speicher were farther back, with the other married women. Gloria had spotted Maggie when they first arrived, her two young daughters at her side, pretty as could be, dressed in matching pale rose-colored dresses and white organdy pinafore-style aprons.

Gloria was struck by the lines divided by gender and age. It was something she’d taken for granted growing up, but now this ritual stood out as markedly as the holy hush that would eventually come over the congregation once they were settled inside, with the men’s section facing the women’s. All around her, children, young people, and adults wore their Sunday best—the men and boys in their traditional black with white long-sleeved shirts, and the women and girls primarily in the royal blue or the plum Leona had allowed Gloria to borrow today.

Very soon, she was seated with the other unbaptized young women in the back of the congregation. One of the men rose and called out a hymn number from the Ausbund, which Gloria held reverently on her lap. The songs of the Anabaptist martyrs, she thought. My own ancestors. Then the halting voice of the Vorsinger cut through the stillness as the appointed man led out with the first few notes before all the People joined in unison.

The congregational singing lasted nearly forty minutes, and once the ministers returned from their customary meeting, the Abrot, the first Scripture was read and the first sermon began, an introduction to the second, longer sermon to come. Gloria quickly realized how much she missed the well-padded pews of her church back home—the backless benches were uncomfortably hard, though she wouldn’t think of admitting this to Leona or anyone else. It was just something the People had always endured.

One of the ministers read a verse from chapter nine of the Gospel of Luke, verse sixty-two. “‘And Jesus said unto him, No man, having put his hand to the plow, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.’”

The words of Christ were convicting, and she felt heartsick. I haven’t followed through, just like my parents, she thought ruefully. Each of us has abandoned the Plain life. But I can’t keep blaming Dad for that.

Just in front of her, two teenage girls were passing notes between them, stealing occasional glances.

Must be something about a boy, she guessed, wondering if Leona would go to Singing tonight. Of course Gloria would be well on her way home by then. She hadn’t decided where she’d spend the night, but she wouldn’t push it as hard as she had coming back here, that was certain.

Momentarily, she let herself imagine what might happen if she did stay to attend the Singing. If Orchard John was there, friendly as he was, he might ask her how far she’d read in Rules of a Godly Life. Truth be told, she’d felt too miserable to read any further this morning. The devotional readings last night had caused her to cry herself to sleep.

Straining to see her friend, Gloria wished she were up there sitting with Leona. Tears welled up, and she quickly brushed them away. What would the young people there in the last few rows think of her weeping, of all things?

Following the end of the first sermon, the People turned to kneel at the benches where they’d sat. Gloria wished she had a tissue handy, and she dabbed at her nose with the back of her hand till she could reach for her purse.

There, during the silent kneeling prayer, in the quiet depths of her heart, where the seeds of God’s Word had long ago been planted, she believed she knew the answer to her deepest yearnings. It was the thing she’d longed for on some level ever since blindly following her parents out of the Hill View Amish church district. But how would she be received by the deacon on the matter? Her father’s transgressions clouded her thoughts.

Deacon Ebersol will be surprised—and, hopefully, pleased—this afternoon, she thought, eager to set forth her plan.

———

Gloria breathed a silent prayer as the benediction was offered, then filed out of the service with the other unbaptized youth to wait for the fellowship meal. Leona had been scheduled to help her mother and Aunt Salome on the kitchen committee, so Gloria went to stand alone beneath one of the shade trees, not fitting in with the other young women her age. Several of them had looked twice at her, but it didn’t bother Gloria. The Lord sees my heart.

Unexpectedly, she noticed Orchard John clear over on the side porch by himself, even though all the other young men his age were congregating near the stable, not far from the galvanized watering tub for the horses. If she wasn’t mistaken, he’d seen her, as well, and he bobbed his head toward the road each time he caught her eye.

Surely not, she thought but walked over there anyway, going around the side lawn. He walked along the wraparound porch to meet her, then hurried down the front steps.

“Ain’t easy to get your attention,” he said, falling into step with her. He looked handsome in his black Mutze coat and vest.

“We’ll be seen together, John. Not such a good idea for you.”

He motioned for them to slip out to the road at the end of the sweeping front lawn, out of sight.

“I hoped we might talk again,” he said, smiling at her. “You look mighty Plain today, Gloria. Real nice.”

“Denki,” she said. “The dress is Leona’s.”

“And your hair’s up, too.”

“A challenge, let me tell you.”

“You’re not the only young woman who’s left the Amish, chopped off her hair, and returned.”

She looked at him, striking as he was. Should she tell him what she’d experienced during the kneeling prayer—that the minister’s sermon had spoken powerfully to her?

His face beamed. “Gloria, I felt a sense of rightness, seein’ ya at Preaching. I was real pleased to see ya there. Just wanted you to know.”

From the corner of her eye, she spotted Pete Speicher’s profile where he was standing behind the house, his straw hat shading his head from the sun. “Ach, if we’re seen, you’ll be in trouble.”

“Well, I don’t want that. Really just wanted to see you, Gloria . . . to let you know that I think ya really belong here.” Then, turning, he said, “I’ll go around the side of the house, an’ you take the driveway.”

She nodded, breathing easier now as she watched him go. But she couldn’t help feeling somehow elated that he’d sought her out despite the risk.

———

Leona gasped when she saw Gloria in her head scarf walking with Orchard John.

“For mercy’s sake!” Leona made a dash down the driveway just as Orchard John slipped away and as Gloria switched directions to return this way. Leona noticed Gloria’s flushed face and reached for her hand. “You surely have some idea of what jeopardy you just put my cousin in,” she said as they made their way back to the house.

Gloria inhaled as if out of breath. “I told him that, too. But it was his idea to talk to me. We weren’t together long.”

“Even so,” Leona said softly.

“I hope your father’s willing to go with me this afternoon to visit the deacon. There’s something I must do before I leave.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem . . . if Dat can stay awake after the noon meal, that is.” Feeling less apprehensive now, Leona laughed a little, ever so curious what Gloria had in mind.

———

“You look downright ferhoodled,” Tom told Orchard John when he came walking toward the stable.

“Ach, I think Cousin Leona spotted me with Gloria,” John said, circling back around the barn with him.

“Gloria?” Tom looked over his shoulder to see Leona and Gloria coming around the opposite side of the house, holding hands.

“I told her how pleased I was to see her in church.” John couldn’t hide the broad grin that crept across his face.

“You can’t let your heart run too far in her direction—she ain’t Amish anymore,” Tom said, perplexed.

“But I have a strong feelin’ she might be inchin’ back. . . .”

“Wait, then,” Tom cautioned. “Wait till she’s safely baptized and solidly in the church.”

“Jah,” John agreed, but his mind seemed miles away.

Tom moved toward the horses, finding his father’s mare and offering a sugar cube from his pocket.

He glanced over beyond the thicket, where Leona and Gloria were still talking rather solemnly near the back porch. He wondered if Orchard John was right about Gloria inching toward the People, if that’s what he meant. If so, was it just his heart talking?