Read Jenny's Choice (Apple Creek Dreams #3) Online
Authors: Patrick E Craig
Jenny's Choice (Apple Creek Dreams #3) (12 page)
“Jenny, you have a wonderful gift. I remember many years ago I told you that no one in our community has such a grasp of the history of our people as you do. But along with that you have a wonderful way with prose and poetry. I see in your writing the beginnings of brilliant stories—stories that can tell the world how the Amish stay separated and put the Lord first before everything.”
“Mama, do you really believe that?”
“I do. As surely as
du lieber Gott
has blessed me with a gift to quilt, He has gifted you with an ability to write.”
“Mama, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Last night a man spoke to our class. He owns a publishing company in Akron, and he came to tell us about how his company is interested in publishing books and articles—not only about the Amish, but written by Amish people. He gave the class an invitation.”
“What kind of invitation,
dochter
?”
Jenny hesitated for a moment and then went on. “He said if we have an idea for a story, we should send him a…he called it a one-sheet. That’s a one-page description of a story. And, Mama, this is what made me think that
der Gott, der unsere Schritte führt
was speaking to me. Jeremy—I mean, Mr. King—said he liked Amish stories and quilting stories.”
Jenny looked at Jerusha and watched as a slow smile began to spread across her mama’s face. Then Jenny began to spill out her idea in a rush.
“Mama, I was thinking I could tell the story of the quilt, Jenna’s quilt, and about how you were lost in the storm and you found me and saved me, and how Papa and Uncle Bobby rescued us and how you kept me and made me your daughter.”
Jenny paused and took a deep breath. “What do you think, Mama?”
“I think it is a wonderful idea, but I’m not sure what Papa would say. There are so many things in the world that try to tempt us away from our faith. Your papa is very protective of you, but he also knows that you are a grown-up woman and have a strong faith in the Lord and have been observant of the
Ordnung
all your life.”
Jenny blushed. “Well, except when I cut off my hair and ran away.”
“You were nineteen, Jenny. You had just fallen in love with Jonathan, and the most important thing in your life was to find out who your birth mother and father were. We—your papa and I—weren’t listening to the Lord. Finally He had to show me how important it was for you to rebuild the foundation of your life. And when we helped you instead of standing in your way, He blessed you with a revelation
of your Amish heritage, a wonderful husband, and a beautiful daughter. The Lord often works in strange ways, but He is always working all things together for good.”
Jenny moved her chair closer to her mama and leaned against her. Jerusha put her arm around her daughter’s shoulder.
“Do you think Papa will think it is all right for me to write a book?” Jenny asked.
“Your papa sees that your gift for writing is healing your heart. I see it also. The things you’ve written about Jonathan and your love for one another have released you to be present with us instead of lost in your grief. Your papa understands it, and I believe he will support you in this endeavor.”
“Will you help me, Mama? I need you to tell me the story so I can get everything right.”
“Yes, Jenny, I will help you.”
Jenny put her arms around Jerusha and held her tight. “Mama, do you know how I know that
Gott
is real and He loves me?”
“How, Jenny?”
“He gave me you to be my
mudder.
I have felt His love for me through you all of my life.”
Jerusha lifted her hand and stroked her daughter’s brow with gentle fingers. Jenny pulled herself under Jerusha’s arm and against her breast, where once again she felt the strong, steady beat of her mother’s heart.
So Jenny and Jerusha began their journey. When they had a moment in their busy day, they sat together and Jerusha told Jenny the story. Often Jerusha took Rachel up on her lap, and the little girl sat quietly while Jerusha spoke. Jenny took notes, and then later, when everyone was asleep, she worked and reworked what she had written.
After a few weeks she could see that the story was good, so she went to Reuben and told him what she was doing.
Reuben looked at her for a long time. Jenny waited, not sure what he would say. Finally he spoke.
“Jenny, I think you have a wonderful gift for writing, and I believe it is
ein Geschenk vom Gott.
My only concern is this. You are a baptized member of the Amish church and have certain responsibilities to the church and to this community. I believe that you’re strong enough in the faith to write this book to the glory of
Gott
and to keep yourself safe from worldly pursuits. However, I’m not the only one who has a say in this. We have a visiting
bisschop
over our section right now. He’s here to help in the establishment of a new church in Dalton. He comes from Pennsylvania, and the Amish of Lancaster tend to be stricter in their interpretation of the
Ordnung.
As a
völliger diener
of our church, I am obligated to speak to the
bisschop
about your writing. We must trust the Lord in this. If the
bisschop
says you must not write the book, will you obey his ruling?”
Jenny sat silent for a few moments. Then she said, “Papa, I feel the Lord is leading me in this, but I asked you about this because I’m in your care and under your roof. If their answer is no, I will do as the elders of the church decide.”
“Even if it’s contrary to what you believe the Lord is showing you to do?”
Jenny stared in amazement at her
daed.
“I want to do what glorifies
Gott
and honors you. Would you have me do otherwise?”
Reuben took Jenny’s hands in his. She felt the strength of his grip and the hard calluses that came from working all his life to care for his family.
“What brings
Gott
glory is to do as He asks. What brings me honor is to see my daughter using the gift that
Gott
has given her to bless
others. If the elders are not in agreement, they will have to go a long way to show me why. Jenny, I will stand with you in this because I believe you’re right. I believe
Gott
is healing you as you use this gift, and I believe that your writing could bring healing to others. It’s a blessing not often given and much to be desired.”
Jerusha reached behind the quilting frame with her left hand and pushed the needle back to the surface of the quilt to complete her stitch. Wearily she pulled the needle through, quickly knotted the quilting thread, and broke it off. She had been working on this quilt for months, and as she leaned back in her chair, she knew it was the best she had ever made. Thousands of stitches had gone into the work, seventy every ten inches, and the work was indeed a masterpiece.
But somehow that knowledge couldn’t soothe the ache in her heart. Tears quickly filled her eyes, and she reached up to wipe them away.
If only Jenna were here with me, I could bear this somehow.
The November sun shone weakly through a gray overcast of clouds, and the pale light from her window made the fabric in the quilt shimmer and glow. A fitful wind shook the bare branches of the maple trees, and the few remaining leaves whirled away into the light snow that drifted down from the gunmetal sky. Winter had come unannounced to Apple Creek, and Jerusha hadn’t noticed. Her life had been
bound up in this quilt for so many months that everything else in her life seemed like shadows.
Jenny stared down at the words on the page. She was pleased with the way the book had started. She could feel the anguish in her mother’s heart as Jerusha finished the quilt. It wasn’t an unfamiliar story to Jenny. Her
mudder
had told it to her many times in her childhood. But writing it down seemed to make it real and permanent, and she felt a sense of accomplishment. When she had read the first chapter to Jerusha, her mama had smiled and nodded.
“
Ja
, Jenny, you have captured it. It’s what I was experiencing as I made Jenna’s quilt. I was so angry with
Gott
for taking Jenna from us and so disappointed in your papa. All I wanted was to leave Apple Creek and the Amish church forever. I wanted to pack my suitcase and go and never look back.”
Jerusha smiled at an inward recollection. “Do you know one of the things I was going to do? I was going to buy a car. Me! I was actually going to learn to drive and have my own car so I could go anywhere I wanted without anybody telling me what to do. Can you imagine? The good people of Ohio would have had to put up warning signs: Watch out! Jerusha Springer
wird durch die Stadt heute fahren.
Jerusha is coming!”
The two women laughed. Working on the book together had bonded them in a very special way, and their love and friendship were deepening every day. Once while Jenny was feverishly writing down an idea for the story line, her mama looked at her and smiled.
“When you were just a little girl, you asked me if
Gott
had given you a gift that you could use to bless people. You were trying to learn to quilt, and it was very difficult for you.”
“Difficult! That’s an understatement,” Jenny snorted. “We cut up the quilt I tried to make and used it for cleaning rags. No, Mama, quilting was not difficult for me—it was torture!”
Jerusha took Jenny in her arms and held her close. “Do you remember what I said to you?”
“I have never forgotten. You told me that my very life was a gift and a blessing to Papa and to you and to many others. And then you said that what happened with my life was up to
Gott
. You told me He had given me a quick mind and courage and determination and that He would begin to open doors for me to walk through and that when He did, I mustn’t hesitate, but do exactly as He said. Then I would discover who I was and what my place would be in this world.”
“And now here you are,” Jerusha said. “
Gott
has opened many doors for you, and you are still young. I believe the greatest things He has for you are still in the future. And I believe that something very wonderful will come of all of this.”
“Oh, Mama,” Jenny whispered, “how you bless me. I love you so much!”
When Jenny had written three chapters, she looked on the back of her notebook for Jeremy’s address and posted a short note to him.
Dear Mr. King,
Thank you for your kindness the evening that we met. I was rather a mess, and you were right—I needed to sit and talk with someone, and you were a great listener. Thank you so much!
I also took to heart what you said about sending you a one-sheet if I had an idea for a story. I do have an idea, and I have enclosed it. Let me know what you think.
Blessings,
Jenny Hershberger
A week later Jenny received a reply.
Dear Jenny,
It was so nice to get to know you, and I’m very glad I was able to be of some help to you. I had a wonderful time chatting with you and was encouraged to see that by the time I took you home, your spirits had lifted somewhat. I hope I played some small part in that.
Now, as for your story idea, I think it’s terrific! Do you have any sample chapters? If you do, please send them to me, and we’ll see if God has something for us in this.
Sincerely,
Jeremy King
