A Simple Change (30 page)

As I tucked each letter into an envelope, a knock sounded at the front door. I hurried to answer, worried the noise would disturb Mother. My stomach lurched when I opened the door. Both Brother William and Brother Otto stood in the hallway. I didn't know why they'd come, but I was sure it couldn't be about anything good. They'd probably come to speak with me about Nathan and Thomas. A lump the size of an orange lodged in my throat.

“Good afternoon,” I croaked.

“You are ill, Sister Jancey?” Brother Otto backed away from the door.

I shook my head and touched my neck. “Something stuck in my throat.” I swallowed hard and stepped to the side as I gestured for them to come inside. “My father is not here—only my mother and me.” Thankfully, my voice had returned and sounded almost normal.

Brother Otto nodded. “Ja, but it is you we want to speak with.” He and Brother William sat side by side on the sofa.

“Me?” The lump had returned and so had my croak.

The two men looked at each other, obviously uncertain about what ailed me. Once again Brother Otto took the lead. “There is an opening at the
Kinderschule
caring for the young children,
and we were thinking you might enjoy this position more than cleaning in the dormitory.”

Brother William nodded. “But if you prefer to remain at the dormitory working with Sister Margaret, you are not required to take the position at the Kinderschule. One of the sisters who worked there recently had another child, and she will not be returning for three years. With your experience teaching, we thought you might want to consider a change.”

My excitement mounted at the prospect of caring for children. Granted, it wouldn't be the same as teaching in a school, but children were never too young to learn.

“I would be very much interested. How soon could I begin?” The lump in my throat had completely disappeared.

Brother William chuckled. “If you would like to begin tomorrow, that would be gut.”

I hesitated. “Tomorrow is washday at the men's quarters. Sister Margaret might need my help.”

“Nein. We will have one of the junior girls help her on washdays, but is kind of you to consider the workload of another sister.” Brother Otto beamed at me. “I am pleased to see you are learning to embrace our way of life, Sister Jancey. I am sure it pleases your Mutter and Vater.”

From his comment, I wondered if the elders had decided I would face fewer temptations working in the Kinderschule rather than the men's dormitory. Was that the reason for their offer? I pushed the thought aside, for it didn't matter what the reason. God had provided a place for me to work with children, and for that, I was most thankful.

The men stood and Brother William nodded toward the bedroom. “Your Mutter—how does she fare?”

“Today not so well, but we remain hopeful. Her health changes day by day. Brother Rudolf says it is to be expected.”

“Tell her that our prayers are with her.” Brother Otto led the way to the door. “Sister Belinda will guide you through your training at the Kinderschule.”

I was so excited I wanted to kiss him on the cheek. Of course I would never have done such a thing, but I could barely contain my excitement. The minute the door closed, I tiptoed into my mother's room.

Though her eyes were closed, I whispered, “Are you awake?”

Her lips lifted in a meager smile. “I am now.” Her eyes fluttered open. “You look very happy. What has happened?”

I told her of the visit from the two elders. “Isn't it exciting, Mother? I'll be able to teach again. I can hardly wait.”

My mother reached for my hand. “You understand you will be caring for the little ones? Children who are three, four, and five—not the older children.”

“I know it won't be the same as teaching in the orphanage, but working with younger children will be a new challenge for me. I'm excited to begin.” I let the joy that bubbled within spread across my face. “And I'm pleased the elders considered me for the position.”

Mother squeezed my hand. “I am pleased, too, my dear. And I'm certain by the time the little ones are old enough to enter the regular classroom, they will be well prepared.”

I sat with Mother until she drifted off to sleep, my thoughts hopscotching over the many events that had taken place since we'd arrived in the colonies. Though there had been immeasurable changes in my life, I now understood the peace and sense of community that had beckoned my mother's return to this simple life.

Chapter 30

April 1882

Although I sometimes thought it impossible to love Ritt any more deeply, my love for him continued to grow with each passing day. Through his kindness and gentle nature, I had learned the meaning of true love—the kind of love that existed between my mother and father. A love that flowed from the heart without the expectation of gaining anything in return.

The elders had agreed to our marriage, but because of my mother's health and Ritt's involvement in the construction of the new mill, we'd both been permitted to remain in Middle Amana during our year of waiting. If all went according to plan, we would marry in October.

Teaching the children at the Kinderschule had proved to be more fulfilling than I'd anticipated. Watching the little ones improve their vocabulary or learn to write a number gave me
great pleasure. They exuded joy over something as simple as creating a small castle out of sand in the play yard or spotting a bird's nest in the orchard. Their eagerness to experience the world around them gave me more delight than I could have ever imagined.

Although I still missed the children at the orphanage, I'd been heartened to discover my prayers had been answered. Lilly wrote that the Charity Home had finally enlisted the help of a new volunteer teacher. The young woman had taught for several years at a girls' boarding school in Pennsylvania and recently offered her services to the orphanage. Lilly's letter bore nothing but praise for the new instructor, a fact that greatly pleased me. In closing, Lilly mentioned the children wanted me to know they liked their new teacher very much.

Over the past months, our ties to Kansas City had slowly dissolved. The sale of Father's business had been concluded, but Mr. Goodman, Father's business associate, kept us apprised about both Nathan and Thomas.

Upon his return to Kansas City, Thomas was identified, charged with bank robbery, and convicted at trial. Later, Nathan was convicted of larceny, and both men were sentenced to serve their time at the state prison in Lansing, Kansas. I couldn't imagine what life was like for Thomas or Nathan behind prison bars, but I continued to pray for them. I also gave thanks that Kathleen had been spared the pain of reconnecting with Thomas, for I was sure life with him would have proved a terrible disappointment.

This evening Ritt and Madelyn walked on either side of me as we returned home from prayer service, while my father, Brother Werner, and Sister Hanna followed behind. I had watched Ritt's excitement mount over the past weeks as the mill neared completion.
And finally, after an inspection a few days ago, the mill had been declared ready to begin production.

Ritt looked at me and grinned. “Tomorrow will be a special day, for sure.”

Earlier in the month, an announcement was made that there would be a special ceremony at the opening of the new woolen mill. We would all gather for a prayer service to consecrate our lives and works to the furtherance of our work and beliefs.

I agreed, though I realized this unusual event would be more special to those who had lived here all of their lives. “Why do you think the elders decided to hold this prayer service?” I asked. “My mother said she had never before heard of such a thing in all her years living here.”

We turned at the next corner, and Madelyn raced ahead of us. Ritt moved closer to my side. “My parents said the same thing. I think this is the first time. Vater believes the elders took to heart the words of Sister Barbara—we must not let material success become the goal of our villages.” He inhaled a deep breath. “And maybe they feel a need to ask for God's blessing because this is the second fire at the woolen mill.”

I nodded. “Sister Bertha told me about the other fire. I think the prayer service will be beneficial to everyone, especially to those who battled the fire and helped rebuild the mill in such a short time. I know how hard you worked.”

“Ja, but your Vater was a great help with all his knowledge.” Ritt tapped his finger against the side of his head. “I learned a lot from him. He has a gut way of leading men. He is a smart man.”

We parted at the front door, and though I would have enjoyed spending more time visiting, Mother would need my help preparing for bed. We bid each other good-night, with a promise to
meet and walk together to the prayer service at the mill tomorrow night.

“I'm home, Mother.” I strode toward the bedroom door. Even in the dim light of the kerosene lamp, I could see a gray tinge to her complexion. “Mother!” I tamped down my rising panic and grasped her hand, but the clamminess of her skin escalated my fear. I leaned close and stroked her forehead. Her eyes fluttered open and she offered a weak smile. “I can see you're feeling much worse than when we departed for prayer meeting.” She attempted to speak, but even that seemed too great an effort. I turned and poured a small amount of water into her glass. “Would you like a sip of water?”

She groaned, so I took that for a yes. Carefully, I slid my arm beneath her and lifted her shoulders as I held the glass to her lips with my other hand. When I heard the latch on the parlor door clank, I called to my father.

One look at my mother and he was by her side in four long strides. “What happened?”

I shook my head and looked at him. “I don't know. She took a turn for the worse while we were gone. Do you think she needs the doctor? I could ask Ritt to go for him.”

My father glanced at the bedside table. “Did you give her medicine or just water?”

“Just water.”

I silently scolded myself. My first thought should have been to relieve her pain, as the doctor had instructed us. I handed the small bottle of liquid to my father and waited while he helped Mother with the medicine. He handed me the bottle and I returned it to the table.

“Let's wait and see if this helps her. If not, we'll send for Brother
Rudolf. I don't know if there's anything else he can offer her other than what he's already provided.”

I murmured my agreement, knowing he was right. Brother Rudolf had already explained that he couldn't do anything other than help relieve the pain through these final stages of her illness. Still, I always felt better having the doctor come whenever Mother took a downward turn. His reassuring manner and compassion appeared to give her a sense of comfort, and it did the same for me.

I nodded toward the door. “Why don't you go into the parlor and try to relax? I'll sit in here and finish some of my mending.” From the stoop of his shoulders and weariness that shone in his eyes, I knew my father needed rest. If Mother had a bad night, he'd get little sleep.

“If you're sure.” He remained near the bed, his gaze fixed on my mother.

“I'm sure. She's back asleep now. I'll keep a close watch. If there's any change for the worse, I'll call for you.”

Mother's condition wasn't any worse by morning, but it hadn't improved enough that she could be alone. Father remained with her during the day while I taught at the Kinderschule, but I insisted he go to the special prayer service for the new mill in the evening. After playing an important role in the construction, his presence was more important than mine.

When he returned from the meeting, he came into the bedroom.

“Did all go well?”

“Yes, but I'll let Ritt tell you about the prayer service. He asked if he could visit with you for a while. I thought the two of you might enjoy a little time together. He's waiting in the backyard.”
My father settled in a chair beside Mother's bed and placed a worn Bible in his lap.

I leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Thank you,” I whispered.

The corners of his mouth curved in a slight smile. “He's a fine young man. I know he will make you a good husband. I hope you and Ritt will enjoy the same happiness your mother and I have shared all these years.”

A hint of sadness framed his kind words, and I knew he must be thinking of the years ahead when Mother would be gone. Being without her would surely be hard for him, and I wondered if that was one reason he'd been willing to give up his life in Kansas City. In the colonies he could live a simple life surrounded by those who shared his faith. For Father and for me, I believed it would be easier here in Amana to adjust to the loss we would soon face than it would be anywhere else.

I glanced over my shoulder as I neared the bedroom door. The Bible lay open in my Father's lap, and he held Mother's hand while he read aloud from the Psalms.

Tears slipped down my cheeks as I hurried for the door. Outside, I inhaled a deep breath of the evening air and attempted to settle my mournful emotions. Moments later, I spotted Ritt standing beneath a large elm tree.

He strode toward me, his smile fading as he drew closer. When he arrived by my side, he touched his fingers to the dampness on my cheek. “What has caused you to cry? Your Mutter is no better?”

“No.” I forced a smile. “In the past, she has surprised us and regained her strength. I am hopeful she'll do the same again. When the elders gave us permission to marry, she said she wanted to live long enough to see us wed. I have been praying that would
happen, but with this last turn, I'm not certain.” He grasped my hand, and together we walked to the elm tree. “Tell me about the prayer service.”

His eyes brightened. “The factory workers, village elders, and many others attended. The gathering lasted for more than an hour.” He grinned. “You probably already knew that since you were waiting on your father to return home.”

I agreed, then urged him to continue.

“In their prayers, the elders emphasized the importance of the mill for both the spiritual and earthly survival of our people.” He sighed. “It is a fine line that we must walk. It is important that our goods be of high quality so we can compete and sell to the outside world. The woolen and calico goods provide money to purchase what cannot be produced within the colonies, but we must always keep in mind that an accumulation of large sums of money is not our primary goal. I think the elders wanted to emphasize Sister Barbara's warnings that we must remain true to our beliefs.”

We sat side by side on the quilt he'd spread beneath the tree, a reminder of the first time we'd sat there with Madelyn and her young friends. So much had happened since then.

Ritt squeezed my hand. “You're so quiet. What are you thinking?”

“About everything that has changed since my family arrived and about how much I have changed, as well.”

“And you are sad because of all the changes? Are you missing the children at the orphanage and wishing to return?” He looked deep into my eyes. “Do you have regrets about choosing to remain here in the Amana Colonies? Please be honest with me, Jancey. I need to know.”

A nesting bird warbled overhead as if calling to her mate.

“No. I am very happy with my decision to remain here, and I'm especially pleased that we'll soon be wed.” I shifted on the quilt and faced him. “I will always miss the children at the orphanage, but I know they will be fine without me. They have a new teacher who will nurture and care for them, and I have the children at the Kinderschule. They fill my days with unspeakable pleasure. Except for Mother's health, I am happy and content.”