Made with Love (3 page)

Noah kicked at a rock on the ground, wondering if he should take the job alone. No, that would never do. He'd get some money and work within this Amish community, yes, but what would the boys do all day when he was working? He shuddered at the thought.

It had taken some convincing for his Aunt Verna to let his cousin Mose move down to Pinecraft. And Mose's friends Atlee and Gerald tagged along. Wasn't it enough that he offered to help out one boy? Now he had three to watch over. Troublemakers all of them.

Then again, he knew their wills could be bent with prayer, patience, and hard work—their hard work. He'd learned himself that the best way to learn to believe in yourself was to discover the jobs God gave you to do and work at them with all your might.

Yet how could he help the teens if no one would give them the chance?

“Mr. Hosteler, your shed needs work, and I'm giving you a good deal. I promise, sir, that I won't leave those young men to
work on their own. It's a training opportunity. That's why I've come down here…to give these young men a chance at a new life.” He wanted to continue. He wanted to add, “…just like I was given a second chance.” Yet the words refused to emerge. Mr. Hostetler didn't need another excuse not to hire him.

“If it were up to me, I might try it. But my wife has other ideas.” The older Amish man leaned in close. “It was her sister Merna whose house was broken into just last week.”

Noah nodded. “I understand.”

Mose, Atlee, and Gerald hadn't admitted to breaking into the woman's home, but Noah had been taking things to Sarasota Salvage at the time—the one time he'd left them alone. And it did seem odd that the only things that were taken were two peach pies.

Noah took a step back and placed his hat on his head. He'd never be able to convince the man now. Why would you ever invite someone you didn't trust onto your property?

He took slow steps as he made his way back to the road and strode toward his uncle's house. He'd thought God had directed him to Pinecraft, but for what reason? To have the door slammed in his face again and again and again?

Noah glanced around the streets of the small village. The morning dawned clear, but in the distance, clouds moved in. He kicked his boot against the rock in the street. It shuffled across the road and hit the Lost and Found box. He'd first seen the box after just a few days in town. It represented this place in a way, everyone taking care of each other. Of course, trust like that was given freely until one broke that trust. It was what his nephew Mose had done back home. Was Noah a fool to think he could help the young man? Was Mose a lost cause? He'd caused far more trouble in their hometown of Arcola, Illinois, than stealing peach pies. Then again, so had Noah.

Noah heard the sound of a bicycle and stepped to the side. A bicycle cruised by slowly, and he smiled at the pretty, dark-haired Amish woman as she passed. Yet her eyes didn't glance his direction. Instead, her gaze scoured the buildings, as if searching for something. He wanted to call to her. He wanted to see if she needed something or had maybe lost something. Did she know about the Lost and Found box?

The woman gazed intently at the house at the end of the street. It was his uncle's house.
Does she know my family?
Noah wasn't sure if he'd ever seen her in the two months he'd been here. He would remember if he had. How could someone forget such a pretty face as that?

Noah quickened his steps and approached his uncle's front gate. It was only then that he realized she wasn't looking at the house, but instead the property behind it. It was a large warehouse or some type of theater. In the months he'd lived there Noah had never seen anyone go in or out. He'd been meaning to ask Uncle Roy who owned the place. Chills moved up and down his arms as he considered what treasures had been left behind inside the warehouse.

The clouds moved over the sun, casting a long shadow, but the woman didn't seem to notice. Instead, she parked her bicycle and strode up to the warehouse.

An Amish man was picking up trash and cigarette butts near the building. The woman hurried over to him. They talked for a few minutes, and then the man pulled out a small piece of paper from his pocket, wrote something down, and handed it to her. When the woman turned, her smile lit up the horizon even more than the sun had just minutes before.

What had she asked the man? What had made her so happy? Noah wished he could find out.

Instead, he had to walk inside those doors to tell Mose and
the other teens they still didn't have any work within Pinecraft. Instead, he'd have to call some of his construction worker friends to see if there was anything that looked promising in their salvage piles—things he and the teens could gather up, repurpose, and resell.

How am I going to help these teens get reconnected within the Amish community if I can't even find one simple job here?
It seemed the Englisch didn't mind that the teens were rough at times. They almost expected it. And Sarasota Salvage had been a willing buyer for the numerous treasures they'd rescued from construction sites and dumpsters.

Still, a burden within Noah's heart wouldn't be shaken. From the first moment he got the idea of moving down here with the guys his desire was to reconnect them with an Amish community in a safe place. Had he heard wrong? Since Pinecraft was known to be more liberal, with their electricity, air conditioning, and Amish and Mennonites from various communities living side by side, he'd thought this was the perfect place to bring the young men. To help them start over. He'd just had no idea how far one's bad reputation carried. Like geese, news of the wayward teens—and most likely his own former ways—had found their way south in record time.

There had to be something out there for them. There had to be someone willing to give him—give Mose and the others—a chance.

He walked by the mailbox and then paused. Noah couldn't remember if he'd checked the mailbox yesterday. He was waiting for his last check from Dat for some items he'd sold at auction. And then…well, they'd be out of money after that.

Where would that leave them? They couldn't stay without helping out Uncle Roy with the expenses. And the way these guys ate the money would be swallowed up by groceries alone.

He opened the mailbox and found two bills and a long white envelope addressed to him. He quickly opened the envelope and breathed a sigh of relief at the check inside. His dad had done well selling Noah's items, and it was more money than he'd expected. Also inside was a folded-up letter and a photo. He lifted up the photo to get a look and his heart sank.

It was a photo of the gift shop, just outside the city limits of his hometown. His heart skipped a beat as a flood of memories came rushing back. The small building was painted white, and four wooden rocking chairs sat out front. There was a handmade OPEN sign in the large picture window, and inside quilts and other gift items were displayed. A window box held colorful flowers.

Still standing by the mailbox, Noah opened the letter and read.

Dear Noah,

Greetings in the name of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ!

It is a beautiful day here at home. It's the day that the Lord has made. The garden is growing much better this year than last. I think it's because of the watering system that you helped me put in before you left. It's much easier for me to make sure all the rows are watered well. The only problem is that I'm already tired of canning tomatoes, and there is no end in sight.

We had church at our house on Sunday and every room overflowed. There is talk of splitting our district again. Us ladies were laughing that the newly marrieds would take us past our threshold by next spring. Six of the young women are new mothers, all in the last month!

Joe's Verna was here asking on Mose. I could see the pain in her eyes at her worries of him. I never understood the parable of the Good Shepherd leaving the ninety-nine to go after the one until after
I became a mother. Verna has a dozen children yet to tend after, but I'm sure she'd catch a bus to Pinecraft if it was season already. I assured her that if anyone knew how to handle wayward boys it would be you.

Speaking of such things, the lady from Amish Gifts and Crafts asked me to give you this photo. She planted flowers in the window boxes and was right pleased with them. It was a nice touch.

I'll stop there before I think too much on matters past. What's done is done. What's gone is gone. It seems to me that what one learns can be used to help others, as you are doing. And although the heartache does not ever completely go away, I'm thankful that it eases with time.

But enough of that. I hoped for this note to be a cheery message, not a sad one. Write when you can and let us know if all is well with you and the boys. I must get the food out for our sewing frolic. I made skillet pear ginger pie since it's Nancy's birthday and it's her favorite. I will close now to get this into the mailbox before the driver comes.

Love,

Mem

Noah folded up the note and put it back into the envelope. He let out a heavy sigh. He didn't know what bothered him more—that whenever people looked at the gift shop, no matter how beautiful it looked now, they'd always think of him and the destruction his foolish choices had caused. Or the fact that they trusted he'd be able to help these teens. Who had he fooled more, them or himself?

He approached the house, and he heard their laughter. Nearly every morning they were playing one prank or another on each other. Yesterday Gerald had got the other two by taking their old milk carton and filling it with water mixed with white paint. Atlee hadn't noticed until he'd filled a glass and taken a long drink. Then—to make things worse—he spewed it all over the living
room area rug. They'd tried to clean it up, but some of the white smudges remained.

He'd thought he'd be able to help the guys, change them too. He'd imagined they'd find work, find a purpose, and find God. How foolish had he been.

Noah ran his fingers through his hair and then removed the check from the envelope, tucking it into the pocket of his work shirt. He folded the envelope with the letter and picture until it was so small and thick that he couldn't fold it any more. Then he placed his hand on the doorknob. In the back of his mind he'd told himself that even more than the work he'd done on the Amish gift shop, his work here in Pinecraft would redeem the past. Now it was clear that it wasn't going to happen. Was God even listening to his prayers? Or had his deeds from the past put up a dividing wall that he'd never be able to scale?

Then he opened the door and took a deep breath. Laughter rose from the guys inside, but instead of bringing joy it caused him to cringe. They were most likely playing another prank, and his efforts hadn't seemed to matter. The young men seemed no closer to considering their faith and being willing to change their ways.

Noah threw the wad of envelope into the trash, and then he moved to the kitchen, placed his hands on the counter, and leaned forward, closing his eyes. He'd gotten himself into this mess. Now Noah needed to figure out what to do next. Whatever it was, it would take a miracle to make any difference. And he'd nearly run out of faith that one was coming soon.

 

Noah's Mem's Skillet Pear Ginger Pie

Use your favorite flaky pie dough for double crust. Make extra for filling a deep-dish skillet. For the best pie make 1½ batches of your favorite recipe and bigger circles than usual for a pie pan.

8 or 9 Bartlett pears

1 cup brown sugar

2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

1½ teaspoons cinnamon

1 teaspoon ginger

pinch of salt

¼ cup heavy cream

1 egg beaten with 1 tablespoon milk

1 teaspoon raw, cane, or light brown sugar

Preheat oven to 375°. Lay one pie dough circle into a 10-by-12-inch cast iron skillet. Peel and slice pears and place in a large mixing bowl.

In separate bowl combine brown sugar, flour, cinnamon, ginger, and salt. Pour over pear slices and toss to coat. Lay mixture in skillet and then drizzle heavy cream over the mixture. Top with second circle of pie dough. Press edges to seal crust. Cut several slits in the crust, using any extra crust for decorative fall leaves. Lightly brush crust with egg and milk mixture and then sprinkle with raw sugar. Wrap foil around outer edge of crust to avoid burning; remove foil about halfway through baking process to brown.