Ella's Wish (14 page)

“I loved her,” Ivan said in a voice that suddenly broke. As he tried to collect himself, he said, “Let me help with the wash at least. My hay’s not ready yet.”

“That would help,” Susanna said, handing him the basket. “You poor man.”

I’m not poor
, he wanted to say.
I’m full of wrong desires
. But he kept silent as he took the hamper from Susanna.

“Thank you,” she said.

He nodded and walked over to the wash line. One by one he snapped the pieces on, spun the wheel slowly, and sent the line off into the air. If anyone drove by and saw him doing woman’s work, they would think he really did need a wife. Well, he did, but there were some things a man simply couldn’t speak of to anyone.

Eighteen

E
lla sat in church, squeezed between the other single girls on the hard bench. Preacher Stutzman’s stirring sermon gripped her full attention. He was that sort of man, especially when in full cry. His voice filled the house this morning, his hands stretched outward for long moments at a time and then folded on his chest, and his beard jerked at the end of each full breath he expelled with great force.

How did one reconcile the gentle man who came to her door the other night with this morning’s firebrand who could spew forth volumes of Scripture from memory? He thundered like a summer eve’s lightning storm, and the thunder was just beginning.

Preacher Stutzman seemed hardly the father of the little girl who sat on the preacher’s bench behind him. With her head now resting in her hands, four-year-old Mary had been in his lap before he got up to preach and would return there when he was done. That scene didn’t make sense either.

“Our spiritual father Abraham,” Preacher Ivan roared, stretching one hand high in the air, “stood on the top of the mountain with his son Isaac. He was there by the command of God and was told to sacrifice his only son. In our own lives, we find ourselves commanded to the mountaintop by God Himself. Abraham went because he knew how to obey, as all of us must learn to obey. Abraham was there to be tested, as all of us will be tested.

“Sacrifice your only son,
Da Hah
had commanded three days earlier. Abraham went to the mountain, lifted his knife to obey, and do what he could not believe humanly could be done. Abraham was there to fulfill a command he thought was unjust, and yet he was ready to obey—if
Da Hah
said so.”

Preacher Stutzman’s voice dropped a few decibels. “Yet
Da Hah
stopped Abraham at the last moment. He stilled Abraham’s hand because Abraham’s heart was right. Abraham was, as we all must be, ready to place
Da Hah
first in his life. He was ready even when the cost was the life of his own precious son.
Da Hah
sent a lamb that day, but we must think ourselves as holy as Abraham was. Abraham lifted his eyes and saw a sheep caught by the horns in the bushes. We, though, often lift our eyes and still have to sacrifice what
Da Hah
wants. The world, the devil, and our own lusts must be sacrificed if we are to be a holy people.”

There was silence in the room for long moments. Preacher Stutzman’s gaze swept from one side of the room to the other. Ella felt chills up and down her spine. There was definitely more coming. The hand was up again, and Preacher Stutzman called out, “Are we worthy of the faith of Abraham? He was willing to sacrifice everything. Can the same be said of us? Do we place
Da Hah
first in our lives? Are His commandments more precious to us than our sons, our daughters, our wives, our farms, or our possessions?”

Ella took a deep breath. She had heard Preacher Stutzman before, most memorably at Aden’s funeral, and his tone of voice, even then, had made an impact on her.
It’s puzzling that one man can be so different. And yet tomorrow the care of his three girls will be on my shoulders. Will Preacher Stutzman use this tone at my house? I certainly won’t consent to it
. Troubled thoughts stirred in her.
Did I make the wrong decision by agreeing to care for the girls?

She recognized the answer, just as plain as day. Right before her eyes, Mary sat with her face in her hands. Her face revealed no sign of any troubled thoughts. Mary looked as contented and relaxed as any well-cared-for child should. Her sisters sat behind Ella with Preacher Stutzman’s sister, Susanna. If she turned around, she would see that they both had the same look about them. They were loved. True, they were motherless—but loved.

Ella took another deep breath and relaxed. The girl beside her glanced sideways and gave her a puzzled look. Ella gave her a quick smile.
I had best get control of my reactions. Besides, he has never raised his voice after church, even on the Sundays Aden and I visited here. If he did, I would have heard him when the men gathered in the yard on summer afternoons after the Sunday meal or in the house on winter days. There is no way to hide that voice
.

Comforted, she settled down. It was time to listen to the rest of the sermon.
Perhaps some good can still be had. I sure need something to give me direction for the many decisions lying ahead. Likely it won’t come from this man, but I reckon it’s still the Word of God, thundered or not
.

Preacher Stutzman stood in the living room doorway. His hands were at his sides, and his voice was soft now, almost weary. “The faithful servant went as his master Abraham had told him to, traveling off to a far country to obtain a wife for Abraham’s son. Now, how many of us could trust our parents the way Isaac must have trusted his? I ask our young people that today. Can we still follow the holy Scriptures as Isaac did? He trusted
Da Hah
to bring him the wife he should have.

“The world tells us to choose by the lust of our eyes and pick our life’s companion from what pleases us. We make our decision because of our tastes and the beauty we see on the outside, but Isaac did not. He trusted his father to choose his wife, and yet Abraham didn’t even take the task upon himself. He sent his servant. Still, Isaac didn’t complain. Can we say the same for ourselves? I speak to our own shame. I must confess myself—the greatest transgressor in this matter—yet should we not be the same as Isaac?”

Preacher Stutzman’s eyes swept up and down the row of young boys.

“Listen to your parents,” he said. “They know what is best. They know what a life of marriage is like and what kind of wife you will need. Do not listen to the world. Abraham’s faithful servant arrived in the foreign land and appealed to
Da Hah
for a blessing on his task. In the same way, your parents beg and plead with
Da Hah
in prayer for you. I know they do because they are godly parents.
Da Hah
will answer them as
Da Hah
answered Abraham’s servant.

“The young maiden Rebecca came down to draw water for the camels.” Ella knew the story, and for the next few minutes, she listened absently but grasped the preacher’s point. Finally she heard him say, “It is time to close now, but remember to obey God and trust your parents. Perhaps others can say the same thing better than I can, but that is the best my poor tongue can do by way of finding words to express the Word of God. I hope it has been in accordance to
Da Hah’s
holy will and in line with the sacred Scriptures. You, brethren, will now be the judge as I take my seat and ask that you give testimony to what has been spoken.”

Preacher Stutzman called out three names—the bishop, another minister, and one of the older men from the congregation. He then took his seat beside Mary, who leaned her head into his lap.

“I heard nothing against the word of God today,” the first of the witnesses began.

Moments later the second witness said, “We are so blessed to hear from
Da Ha
today.”

The third closed with an equally flattering review, “Today, once again, we can see why we are so blessed to not only be among the people of God but to be so privileged that heaven still speaks to us. Our young people should listen with their ears open all the way.”

Preacher Stutzman’s sermons always received good testimony, if for no other reason than their fierceness.

The song leader gave out the number, and the singing began. The clock on the kitchen wall showed the time as a little past twelve. With the last stanza finished, Ella got up with the other girls and followed them into the kitchen. Behind her the men had already set up the tables in the living room, and the married women began to sit down.

She might not attend the youth functions anymore, but she was still a single girl and would be expected to act like one.
Until forever
, she thought. The image of a wrinkled old maid who still waited on the Sunday tables rose in her mind. That idea was a little impossible. Surely somewhere in the future, she would sit and be served but not now.

Ella would have chosen the women’s table to wait on, but that was taken, as was the boys’. With no choice in the matter, she waited until prayer was completed and then walked over to the men’s table, carrying the water pitcher. They had already started to eat, dipping their knives into the peanut butter and reaching for the pickle bowls. She waited a few moments and then moved in closer to the broad shoulders and beards. Glasses were lifted up to her. Most of the men smiled a greeting to her. One of them was the face of Preacher Stutzman, but his face was not smiling. That didn’t bother Ella, and yet it did.
He knows I will take over the care of his girls tomorrow, and he could at least act friendly toward me
.

When the first bowl was down to the last pickle, she brought in a fresh one while carrying a bowl of peanut butter in her other hand. As Ella approached the table, Preacher Stutzman was spreading butter on a piece of bread for Mary, who sat beside him. His knife reached for the peanut butter bowl, but it was empty.

“It’s all gone,” he said in a low voice.

“She’s got more,” Mary said, whispering and peeking over his shoulder.

Preacher Stutzman turned to her, but to Ella he didn’t seem like Preacher Stutzman anymore. He was the other man with the cautious blue eyes; the man who had called on her to watch his girls.

“Well, it looks like she got here just in time,” he said with a gentle smile to Mary.

The little girl nodded and turned her beaming face toward Ella. Ella leaned across the table to exchange the bowls.

“Mary, this is Ella Yoder,” Preacher Stutzman said, whispering again. “You’re stayin’ at her place all next week, startin’ tomorrow.”

Little Mary’s eyes got big but didn’t leave Ella’s face.

“You’ll like her house,” Preacher Stutzman said softly. “It’s a nice house and really big.”

“Will Sarah and the baby come?” Mary asked.

Preacher Stutzman nodded.

“I’ll like it, then,” Mary said, still beaming.

“I’m sure you will,” Preacher Stutzman said, drawing Mary tight against him and apparently forgetting Ella for the moment.

She turned to go as he finished preparing Mary’s peanut butter sandwich. The bowls were empty at the other end of the table, and concerned, bearded faces turned in Ella’s direction. She dashed off to the kitchen for refills.

“I hear you’re takin’ in Joe and Ronda after their weddin’,” her cousin Susie whispered in the kitchen, “and Preacher Stutzman’s girls. What a handful that will be. I guess you never do things halfway.”

Ella smiled with effort, grabbed the bowls she needed, and whispered back, “They’re waitin’.”

“You need any help at the house?” Susie asked. “Mamm said I could come over once in a while.”

“I’ll let you know,” Ella said, turning to go, “but I’m tryin’ to keep things down to where I can handle them.”

“Well, don’t be shy to speak up if you get in too deep,” Susie said to her retreating back.

Susie meant well, but her words meant the whole community knew of her plans and had opinions on the matter—opinions that might not be as friendly as Susie and her mother’s had been and might be about what an unmarried woman ought or ought not do.

Marry
, that’s what they would say. Ella leaned between two broad shoulders to replace the bowls.
They probably think I should get a man like one of these men, a man who would take proper care of me. He would keep the house the way a house ought to be kept—with a man’s authority. Was that, perhaps, Preacher Stutzman’s hidden message—a sermon on the proper attitude a girl should have? Does Preacher Stutzman know about my father’s wish that I take Bishop Miller as a husband? Was he reminded of how I live when he stopped by to make arrangements for his girls’ keep? Not likely…and yet possible
. She pushed the thoughts aside and walked back to the kitchen for bread this time.

“The whole table needs bread,” she whispered to Susie. “I need help.”

“Sure,” Susie said, grabbing two of the plates of bread and following Ella back into the living room. They exchanged the bread plates, careful that no crumbs spilled onto the men’s laps. Ella felt the back of her neck grow warm. There was no doubt about it. Preacher Stutzman had been staring at her.

Nineteen

E
lla stood against the living room wall. The first meal was almost over, and the bishop looked ready to call the prayer out.

“If we have eaten, let us now pray,” the bishop announced in a voice that reached the recesses of the house.

All heads bowed, and silence settled quickly. Ella folded her arms and focused her eyes on the floor.

“And now our great and mighty God,” the bishop prayed, “we give You thanks for the food we have received. May Your grace be over us in the days ahead as You have guided us in the past with Your mighty hand. Bless now all who are here today and Your children everywhere. Amen.”

Ella waited as the murmur of voices resumed and the tables emptied. A few of the married men moved slowly outside. Toothpicks hung from their mouths as they murmured in low voices to those nearby. At the single boys’ table in the other room, they jumped up as one, heading for the door in a long line and spilling out into the yard.