An Uncommon Grace (24 page)

The cup had not felt that hot to him.

“I’m sorry.” He turned it so that he held the bowl of the cup in his hands with the handle held toward her.

She stared at his hands, and then at him. “Doesn’t that burn you?” She took the cup from him.

“No.” He held his hands out flat and turned them over. His palms were so calloused from work that he had barely felt the heat.

“I have met a lot of people, Levi,” she said, blowing gently on the steaming tea, “but never anyone like you.”

“And I have never known someone like you.”

She took a sip. “But we cannot be friends.”

“No.” This was one thing about which he was certain. “We cannot be friends.”

She held the tea gingerly on her lap. “You do know that this rule your people have against making their buggies visible at night is a form of suicide.”

“No. It is God’s will.”

“You don’t believe that,” she said. “You don’t believe for a minute that it is God’s will to put small children at risk. We
Englisch
may do many stupid things, but at least most of us try to protect our children. We put them in car seats and seat belts. You rely entirely on God to be their seat belt as you drive down the road hoping and praying that an
Englischman
will just happen to see your buggy in time to stop. That’s just
wrong, Levi, and you know it. Those children have no one to protect them except you. It won’t be Bishop Weaver who’ll grieve for the rest of his life if anything happens to them.”

“You do not understand our ways.”

“That’s a smoke screen you throw up every time you don’t know how to answer me, and you know it.”

She leaned over to set her teacup on a magazine lying upon the coffee table and winced as she sat back up.

It hurt him to see her in pain, especially since he knew he had inadvertently been the cause of it.

“My grandmother has told me that even the Old Order Amish allow the orange triangle on the back of their buggies. I’ve even seen several of them with flashing lights. They and the other Amish orders do what they can to give an
Englisch
driver some warning, some help. Do you know what it would have done to me if I had hit your buggy? Do you know what it would have done to me if I had actually hurt one of those precious children or you?”

He saw a flash of fury in her green eyes. It was the first time he had ever seen her truly angry.

“It would have killed me inside,” Grace said. “Do you understand what I am saying to you? It would have killed me!”

She leaned back against the couch as though exhausted from the effort to get through to him. “I have spent my life trying to save other people’s lives. I have seen soldiers torn apart by bombs deliberately set by other human beings, and I have helped patch those soldiers back together. I’ve sent them back home to their families missing limbs and eyes—some unable to walk. To see someone as intelligent as you are putting people you love in jeopardy for no other reason than some leader’s arbitrary ruling—it’s just about more than I can bear.”

Now he was getting angry. She had accused him of not caring about his own family.

“I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you,”
she said when she saw the pain in his face. “But I would be a coward if I didn’t say these things to you.”

“You judge us, but you know nothing about us.”

“Then explain it to me, Levi!” Her eyes again flashed green fire. “I don’t care if you don’t have refrigeration or indoor plumbing or wear one suspender or two. I don’t care if you want to bump along on steel wheels or glide along on rubber ones. But you need to explain to me why you endanger the people you love simply because you have allowed yourself to be imprisoned by some man-made tradition! Why can’t you get it into your head that you live in the United States? Unlike so many people all over the world, you actually have freedom—including the freedom to choose to protect your family by sticking a stupid orange triangle on the back of your buggy!”

He was truly furious now, and yet he knew, deep down, that the reason he was furious was because she was asking the same questions he had asked himself time and time again. He gave her the only answer he could think of.

“Freedom? How can you, a woman from a world that allows you to choose anything you want to wear, or anything you want to drive, understand the freedom of not having to think about styles or colors or vehicles because the community has already made that decision? There is freedom in simplicity, Grace, freedom in unity. And that includes retaining the freedom for our Swartzentruber sect to be allowed to leave our buggies Plain and not be dictated to by a government that is supposed to allow religious freedom.”

It was the longest speech he had ever given, the first time he had ever defended his faith to anyone except himself, and he found himself breathing hard from the emotion of it.

She came right back at him.

“Think about who you’re talking to, Levi,” she said dangerously. “I’m
not some prom queen trying to decide what fancy dress to wear. Until a month ago, I was a career military nurse. I wore a uniform. I was told when to go to sleep and when to wake up. I was told what to eat and how to make a bed. On your strictest, most
Ordnung
-fearing days, you have more freedom to choose than I have had over these past several years. But my commanding officer never, ever asked me to put myself in harm’s way—unless it was to save the life of another soldier.”

“Or to kill some other country’s soldier,” he shot back.

“Oh, that’s right, buddy. Go ahead and pull out the pacifist card. You and your people allow other people to lay their lives on the line keeping this country safe so that you can enjoy the right to live like you want to, and wear what you want to wear, and drive what you want to drive. If it weren’t for the men and women in uniform who protect our country, you wouldn’t be worrying about whether or not your buggy had a stupid orange triangle on it—you would be trying to figure out a way to keep your children from being forced to bow to Mecca!”

“The Bible says, ‘Thou shalt not kill.’”

“Then why the heck was the warrior David a ‘man after God’s own heart’? Good grief, man. God was talking about murder in the Ten Commandments, not war.”

Levi had never had a conversation like this. He was hurt, he was angry, but he was also exhilarated by the rush of intellectual battle.

“If all men lived as we do, there would be no more wars. There would be no need for armies or soldiers. There would be peace.”

“You make a good point, Levi—except for one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“If all men lived as you do—burning your libraries because you’re
afraid some bishop will disapprove—there would be no hospitals to save the lives of people like your mother. There would be no doctors to save the life of little Daniel. And if all men lived as you do—bathing only once a week—the world would smell a whole lot worse than it does.”

Now that stung.

“Are you telling me that I have a bad odor?”

“Not right now. Presumably you bathed before you left for worship this morning. But, Levi, I hate to tell you this, but the last time I was there, your house stunk.”

“It was Daniel’s diapers. There has been too much rain recently to do laundry.”

“Don’t blame it on your baby brother.”

“Well—your
Haus
smells stuffy and close. There are too many things in here. I can barely breathe.”

There was a hesitation—and he thought he might have dealt the final blow—but Grace surprised him by bursting out into a belly laugh. “Boy, you got that right! I’m afraid my grandfather never saw a fishing lure he didn’t fall in love with, and I don’t think my grandmother ever laid eyes on a butter dish she didn’t buy.”

The fact that she was laughing at her family’s possessions was something he had not expected. He had assumed that
Englisch
people were attached to every knickknack in their homes. Evidently she wasn’t.

She grinned at him mischievously, in spite of the shiner she was developing. “That was a great argument, Levi. I enjoyed it. It’s the kind of argument that friends might have. But we’re not friends, right?”

“No—we are not friends.”

“Good,” she said complacently. “Because I would hate to have said all those awful things to a friend.”

Just then, Sarah tiptoed into the room and whispered into his ear.

“She needs to use the toilet,” Levi said.

“Sweetie, just go to the last door at the end of the hall,” Grace told the little girl.

“I will have to take her. She won’t know how to use an indoor bathroom by herself.”

“Go ahead, Levi. Knock yourself out.”

“Excuse me?”

“Take your little sister to the bathroom,” Grace said. “While you’re gone, I’m going to think up some better arguments.”

“Please don’t,” Levi said, ushering his little sister out of the room.

L
evi took Sarah to the bathroom. The commode frightened Sarah and he had to help her hold on. While doing so, his mind raced with arguments to counter anything else Grace might want to bring up. No one had ever talked to him in such a way before, although he suspected a great many
Englischers
thought the rude things that Grace had said.

The thing was, Grace was not trying to be rude. She cared about his family and was genuinely puzzled by the things they did.

It felt strangely exhilarating to use his wits to argue with her. But he knew that in spite of his people’s attempts to be godly and separate from the world, they were far from perfect. They worked hard and helped each other. They endured long worship services sitting on hard benches in the name of Jesus. But they were not perfect. There was sometimes much gossip and smallness of mind during their get-togethers. Not all of them were honest. Not all of them were kind.

Could it be possible that what he had been taught was the only way to heaven—wasn’t true? Could it be that the restrictions under which he lived were not necessary for God’s approval? One thing he did know, and it bothered him, was that it was nearly impossible for an outsider to become Amish, and
the few who tried seldom went the distance. After a few years they gave up. It was just too hard.

Had God truly made it necessary to live exactly as he and his family lived in order to be saved?

He didn’t know. He only knew that the preachers said that the path to heaven was narrow and few would achieve it. And yet could women as fine as Grace and Elizabeth—both believers in Jesus—miss heaven because they did not live exactly as he lived?

“I’m done,” Sarah said.

“Good girl!”

She was fascinated with what happened when he flushed, and he had to stop her from putting her hands into the swirling water.

He adjusted the faucets until the water temperature was just right, and then he held Sarah up by her waist while she played with the soap and water. This was a new experience for her, and she drew out the moment as long as she could.

It felt strange being in Grace’s bathroom. There were too many women things and fancy bottles in here for him to feel comfortable. He had to admit, it certainly smelled a whole lot better than his family’s outhouse.

“Are you finished?” He turned the water off and helped his little sister dry her hands on a fluffy pink towel.

She held on to his finger as they went out the door, but he saw her glance back over her shoulder at the bathroom.

“I like that place,” Sarah said.

Her innocent comment hurt. This Sunday was turning into a day of hurts.

All thoughts of bathrooms and arguments left him when they entered the living room. Standing in the middle of the floor looking down at Grace was one of the largest men he had ever seen—dressed in a sheriff’s uniform. He recognized him
immediately as Gerald Newsome, the man who had talked with him up in the hayloft the day his stepfather was killed.

His two little brothers were sitting close together on Elizabeth’s other couch. Their legs stuck straight out, and their hands were clasped tightly together upon their knees—as though to make certain they stayed absolutely, completely out of trouble.

The sheriff shook his head when he saw him. “Sure would help everyone out if you people would just put that orange triangle on your buggies.”

Levi was sick of hearing this. It wasn’t as though he had any control over what his church’s leaders had decided. He waited stoically for Newsome to say whatever it was he was going to say.

“At least this time I don’t have to take anyone to the morgue—but from the looks of that car it’s a wonder you didn’t get killed, Grace.”

“It wasn’t Levi’s fault.” Grace, who ten minutes earlier had been giving him grief about the issue, now flew to his defense. “I should have known better than to drive that fast on a rainy Sunday night. I should have realized there would be buggies returning from church.”

“If you say so,” the sheriff said. “Well, that pretty much wraps things up. I’ll call a wrecker for that car of yours.”

“Thanks.”

Levi’s little brothers’ eyes were nearly popping out of their heads being so close to this big sheriff again, close to his uniform and his gun holster. He knew they would not soon forget this moment. Why did the world have to infringe so harshly upon their family? All his people had ever wanted was to be left alone to make a modest living off the land and to worship God as they deemed best. His little brothers had not needed to see that gun on the sheriff’s belt.

The sheriff shot a glance at Levi. “It’s dark. I’m headed out past your house. Why don’t I follow you? It might help us avoid another accident tonight.”

As soon as she was alone, Grace lifted herself off the couch and limped over to the window where she watched the sheriff slowly following Levi’s buggy down the road. He had turned his flashing lights on, but no siren. If only she had come home a few minutes earlier, she could have avoided this whole thing.

It seemed as though even thinking about it made her head ache. In fact, everything ached. Her face throbbed, and her eye was swollen completely shut.