Amish Circle Letters (3 page)

Eleanor. Eleanor Haile.

Katie often heard her mamm call her just Ellie but Katie knew that it was short for Eleanor. She liked that name and often thought that, if she could, she would one day name one of her own daughters that pretty Englischer name.
Eleanor.

She was as Englische as Englischers get, wearing blue jeans and cowboy boots. Sometimes she drove a shiny red pickup truck, other times a small blue car with four doors and a funny flag looking emblem on the wheels. With long brown hair and a big smile, this Eleanor had a lot of energy. She didn’t treat Anna or Katie or any of her brothers and sisters as if they were some strange creatures like other Englischers sometimes did. Nor did Eleanor ask a lot of personal questions. She treated them like…well…people. And that’s what Katie liked about her.

This Eleanor would pop in from time to time, usually on her way into town to visit some Mennonite relatives on the other side of Lancaster. She never called in advance although she always promised to do so when she’ll be coming back. She would knock at the kitchen door, waiting patiently for Mamm to welcome her to their home. The good thing about Eleanor was that she talked to everyone, not just Mamm. She always took the time to speak to all of Katie’s brothers and sisters, asking them about school or fishing or working the market stand, up the street. But the best thing about Eleanor was that she seemed to sparkle and glow when she spoke to Katie.

Just the other week Eleanor had been at the farm and stayed just long enough to help make some cookies before sitting down for a nice, cold glass of meadow tea. Eleanor had noticed all of Katie’s toy animals lined up on the sofa. Immediately, Eleanor had realized that Katie had been playing schoolhouse. Without a bit of hesitation, Eleanor had sat down on the sofa, asked the names of the “students” and what subjects were their favorites.

Little Benjamin had laughed and stated the obvious. “Aw, they can’t learn nothing! They’s just stuffed toys!”

Eleanor had picked up the grey rabbit and flopped him on her lap, turning him over as if inspecting him. “Seems like a wise rabbit to me!” she said before gently placing the rabbit back on the sofa next to the stuffed bear. With a friendly wink at Katie, she turned back to Benjamin. “Maybe book learning is doing him some good!”

At that, Benjamin had made a sour face. “Book learning for a toy! That’s silly!”

“Now, now,” Mamm had said, opening the oven to pull out the cookies. The kitchen began to take on a lovely smell and Katie remembered her mouth watering. She loved cookie-making day even better than when Mamm baked bread. “Ellie, come have some meadow tea and try these freshly baked cookies,” Mamm had said, “They are just out of the oven”.

Mamm had continued to work while Eleanor moved over to the kitchen table. She pushed aside the weekly paper, The Budget, that was littering the bench, in order to make room for herself. “Anna,” she had said. “Wanted to ask you a question.”

“Ja?”

Eleanor had sipped at the glass of cold tea. “Boy, that’s really good!”

Anna had laughed. “It’s just meadow tea, Ellie! And that’s not a question.”

“You’re right,” Eleanor had replied. “It’s not the question. But you sure make the best tea that I’ve ever tasted, second only to Miriam’s!” After setting the glass down on the table, she had glanced around the kitchen before continuing. “My husband needs to board some horses and ponies for about nine months. After our summer camp program, we just don’t need them until the following June.”

At the word “ponies”, Katie had suddenly lost interest in the stuffed rabbit that Eleanor had touched and she moved over to the table, instead.

Anna had looked up. “Boarding? How many?”

Eleanor had shrugged her shoulders, in a free and graceful movement. Katie was mesmerized. She couldn’t remember ever seeing her mamm shrug her shoulders. After all, her mamm was always too busy milking cows or washing clothes or cooking food or making cheese. Her mamm was just always too busy, period.

“Twenty or so.”

“Oh my!” Anna had exclaimed. “I reckon that’s too many for most farms. Not certain I know of anyone.”

And that had ended the conversation about ponies and horses.

Now, as Katie plopped down on the torn blue sofa in the kitchen, she reached over with her arm to scoop up the toy rabbit from the floor where she had dropped it that morning. She held the rabbit in her lap and stared at it. She wondered how Eleanor had seen the magic in the rabbit when so many others missed it. Truly Eleanor was a special Englischer and Katie couldn’t wait until she would return.

“You need to clean up those toys, Katie,” Anna said as she walked into the kitchen, her eyes glancing over at the animals, books, and puzzle pieces that littered the floor. She frowned disapprovingly. “Floor looks real messy. We need a bit more order in here, I’m thinking.”

“Why’d those boys do it, Mamm?”

Anna hurried over to clear the plates from the kitchen table. There were left over from that morning. “Don’t you fret none more about those boys.”

“They’re Englischer boys, ain’t so?” Katie asked.

Anna paused and looked out the window. Katie knew that her constant questions got under mamm’s skin but she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to know the answers. “Yes, Katie. Amish boys wouldn’t be driving and certainly wouldn’t be destroying people’s property.”

“Why then?”

With a sigh, Anna turned around. “Why what?” She pointed at the mess. “And you can pick up those toys while you’re asking me these questions, ja?”

Katie scrambled off the sofa and began to scoop the toys into her hands in order to carry them to the crate in the other room. “Why do Englischers do such things but you said Amish boys wouldn’t?”

“Our
kinner
are just raised different, I reckon,” Anna answered. But Katie could tell that it wasn’t a good enough answer.

“What about Eleanor?”

At the mention of her Englische friend, Anna laughed. “What about Eleanor? She has nothing to do with those bad boys!”

“But she’s an Englischer. Surely she was raised in a similar way?”

This time, Anna hesitated. Clearly she could follow Katie’s logic. That much was obvious from her expression. Katie waited patiently for an explanation. “
Ach, vell
,” Anna began. “Not all Englischers are raised the same way.”

“Nor are all Amish boys, ain’t so?”

Taking a deep breath, her mamm shook her head. “You just have to trust me on this one, Katie. Eleanor is not like them and she was not raised like them. She’s a
wunderbarr
gut
friend to the family. Has been for many years, now.”

“Ain’t it true that
Onkel
James was sweet on her?”

Anna gasped. “Katie Fisher ! Where did you hear such nonsense?” She gestured toward the toys. “Enough of this chatter and you get those toys put away. Then outside you go. See if your daed needs some help. I’m through with these questions!”

Frowning, Katie hurried about her assigned chores. She could sure tell that her mamm was, indeed, finished with questions. Whenever she used her full name, Mamm meant business. There was no testing the water with her mamm when addressed in such a formal matter.

And so Katie went on with her assignment then helped her daed with the barn chores. After the evening meal, she went to bed early and slept straight through the night.

It was the following morning when Steve arranged for a car service to take him to the Hostetler’s Farm Store. He didn’t own a horse and a buggy. On the rare occasions when he used one, he always borrowed Isaac’s. It wasn’t as though he went many places so hiring a paid driver was the most economical and least time consuming way to go.

The cow had come through all right, requiring some stitches and antibiotics. The vet had said she was lucky. A few inches to the right and the cow would have suffered brain damage and most likely would have needed to be put down. Thank
Gott
for small blessings, he thought. Losing the one cow would have been a financial setback, not just for the loss of the daily milk she provided for the family but for the calf that she carried.

The bell at Hostetler’s door jingled as he walked inside. It was an old building with a creaky wood plank floor and dusty shelves. A few kerosene lights hung overhead, from the old weathered beams, hissing as they cast a dim light throughout the store. Steve knew better than to look up at the flame. Doing so would cause instant blindness for a few seconds and black dots in his vision for a minute or more. While they might be dim, those lights were strong.

“May I help you?”

He turned in the direction of the soft yet cheerful voice, surprised to see a young Amish woman behind the counter. She wore a green dress with her black apron and white prayer
kapp
. Her face looked freshly scrubbed and young with the exception of the slight scar just over her right eyebrow and wrinkles under her hazel eyes. Yet, she looked familiar. “Uh…ja,” he stammered, trying to remember why he was there. “Windows. I need two new windows for my barn.”

“Oh ja,” she said, nodding her head. “The police called Daed and said you might be here today. Heard about your barn. Feel really sorry about it”

“Your daed?”

“Jonas Hostetler,” she responded, reaching beneath the counter for a pad of paper. “The owner.”

He searched his memory for just a moment. There was something there. Was it a wedding? About ten years ago? He had been just twenty-four years old and paired up with a young woman who had amazingly similar eyes as the beautiful creature standing right before him. Only, he remembered, that he hadn’t realized it then. Curious, Steve leaned against the counter. “You live by the Riehl farm, ja? Mimi Hostetler?”

“That’s what my friends call me, ja?” Those hazel eyes met his and narrowed for just a moment. “Do I know you?”

“Steve Fisher ,” he said. “We had fellowship at a wedding once.”

“We did?” Her voice sounded surprised. Her eyes flitted back and forth, taking in his face as if stretching back in her own memory. Clearly, she hadn’t remembered him.

“I think so, anyway,” he mumbled and stood straight. If he was a little disappointed that she didn’t remember him, he did his best to hide it. After all, he scolded himself, it was ten years ago. Chances were that she was married with a pack of her own
kinner
at home. Although, he thought, if she was married, why would she still be working for her daed?

“About those windows,” he said.

“Ja, ja…” she replied, bending her head back down. “Such a shame that those Englischer boys have such a penchant for mischief.” She shook her head as she wrote something on a pad of paper. “They sure do have plenty of time to spare for doing nothing but trouble.”

“Good hard farm work would solve that problem,” Steve admitted.

She laughed and looked up at him. The sound was musical to his ears. So light and airy. And her eyes sparkled. “Good hard farm work solves a lot of problems, ain’t so?” Looking up, she smiled. “That’s what my daed tells me every morning at breakfast.”

At breakfast? All of a sudden, Steve felt his heart quicken. Was she trying to tell him something? If she was having breakfast with her daed in the morning, certainly she wasn’t married yet! But those eyes, he thought. How could such a beauty with such sparkling eyes and an angelic laugh not have captured someone’s heart? “Your daed’s a farmer?”

Another laugh escaped her lips. “
Nee
,” she said lightly. “I just told you that he runs this store. But he keeps reminding me that there is great value in a strong farmer man,” she added, the color immediately flooding to her cheeks. “Anyway, what size are those windows?” She took the measurements and made a note on the paper. Then, looking up at him, she gave him a final smile. “Was nice to see you again, Steven Fisher . We’ll have those windows delivered with your brother Isaac’s order for hay in two weeks.”

He returned the smile and backed away from the counter. He wished there was something else to say but he knew that the conversation was over. Still, there was something about Mimi Hostetler. That dark hair and those pretty eyes lingered in his memory long after he slid back into the passenger seat of the car that had been waiting outside to take him back to the farm.

Mary Ruth sat on the porch, a plastic cup of fragrant meadow tea in her hand. Her mamm made the best meadow tea, although Anna’s sure came close. Mamm’s tea was never too sweet or weak. She seemed to use the right amount of tea from the garden every single time she made it. Try as Mary Ruth would, she could never replicate her mamm’s recipe. She’d forget to take the leaves out or the water would boil over. Cooking just didn’t seem to be her thing.

It was warm outside and she was still tired from the past few days cutting hay with her daed. Early mornings, long days and late nights were taking a toll on her. Now, with the sun shining and a warm breeze hitting her face, she shut her eyes and leaned her head back against the side of the house.
Why me
, she thought bitterly. Just when everything was going so well!

She knew that she shouldn’t complain. After all, it had only been yesterday when her brother Steve’s farm had been vandalized. He had been extra quiet during the morning milking, barely speaking to anyone. Although Steve was always soft-spoken and reserved, it was clear that he was disturbed by the invasion from the outside. Mary Ruth hated to see him upset. He was such a kind, gentle man. To see Steve upset truly bothered her.

Shortly after the morning chores, a car had pulled into the driveway. Mary Ruth had looked out the kitchen window, not surprised to see that Steve had disappeared with the Mennonite that he always hired to take him places. Letting the white curtain fall back over the glass, Mary Ruth could only presume that he had gone to the store to order the new windows. Steve was never one to let grass grow under his feet when it came to tending his farm, that was for sure and certain.

For the past few months, she had been traveling to the market down in Maryland to help her sister Sylvia and her husband John with their new meat stand. Traveling to market meant early morning rising and late nights coming home. The long days wore on her nerves, as did the funny things that the Englischers said and did. Oh, to be certain, she had gotten used to the surprising ways of the Englischers but had always known them to be simply curious about the Amish, never really malicious. Now that she had seen the other side of the Englischers’ world, the dark side of mischief and vandalism, she realized there was more than met the eye to the world outside of Lancaster County. It worried her that anyone could be so hateful and mean spirited that they’d deliberately damage another person’s property.