Sewn with Joy (16 page)

Being Amish was more than a way of dress and living. Their outward display was rooted in internal values and traditions. What the worldly people had left behind a century ago, her people still embraced: family, community, and sharing their life and work. It had to matter on the inside before anyone could portray it on the outside. No matter how nice Alicia seemed to be, there was a haunting look in her eyes that was hard to miss. More than that, the woman walked as if she carried a team of horses on her shoulders. Seeing that caused Joy's heart to ache, but it didn't cause her steps to slow. She had to get to the Slagels' house before too many questions were asked. And before she started wondering too hard about the problems of the
Englischers
.

 

Many Hands Make Light Work

In nineteenth-century rural America, social rituals grew up around tasks which could be accomplished quickly and efficiently by many hands. With the help of lots of friends and neighbors, a man could raise a small barn in one long day of work. Women had their equivalent in the quilting bee, where several women got together for the day to do the tedious, time-consuming work of finishing a quilt top made by one of them. Working together, they stitched through the three layers and added the finishing touches. Sometimes these quiltings were held simultaneously with the barn raisings, with a grand joyous feast ending the day of hard work and great pride.
“The finishing of this quilt made a gala day for the neighborhood. It was unrolled and cut out with much excitement…It was truly a beautiful thing…an expression of the life of its occupants, a fit covering for those who made it.”
*

*
Ellen H. Rollings,
New England Bygones
(Philadelphia: Lippincott, 1883), 238.

Fifteen

Kindness when given away keeps coming back.

A
MISH PROVERB

M
atthew waited by the window, watching for Joy's approach. The aroma of caramel cinnamon rolls filled the kitchen.
Dat
sat at the table with his open Bible before him. The
Budget
sat next to it.
Dat
always took great care in reading both. Being a bishop was part sharing God's truth and part understanding the needs of the congregation he was chosen by God to serve.

Matthew turned back to his parents. “We can go ahead and eat if you'd like. I know
Dat
has to get going soon—”

“Ne.” Mem
poured herself another cup of coffee. “I don't mind waiting. I enjoy Joy's company, and I'm thankful she's coming. So sorry she had to work so early though.”

Dat
pushed his glasses farther up his nose. “Is the quilt shop open this early?”

Matthew crossed his arms and leaned against the window frame. “
Ne.
She said she had to make a delivery. Someone bought six quilts.”

“Six quilts?” The spoon
Mem
had been stirring her coffee with clattered to the table. “Who would buy six quilts?”

Matthew shrugged. “I'm not sure.” Worry folded his eyebrows. “I didn't think much of it.”

Mem
rubbed her brow. “
Ne
Amish person would buy six quilts. It had to be an
Englischer
.”

“The television show.” His
dat
cleared his throat and it almost sounded like a low growl. “There has been a lot of talk about all the money they're spending around town. Buying up
gut
items to be used as props. Isn't it like the
Englisch
to waste like that?”

“Maybe you should have gone with her,” his
mem
added. “You never know what they are up to over there.”

Matthew's brow furrowed. He'd offered to go with Joy, but she'd quickly dismissed him. Had she known more about the delivery than she'd let on? Had it been to wherever they were filming the TV show? Something deep in his gut told him it had been. There wasn't any other explanation.

He moved to the table and sat down, wondering if he should go look for her.
Mem
slipped into the seat beside him.
Dat
removed his reading glasses and leaned forward.

“You need to encourage Joy not to get too involved. First the
Englischers
flood the village with their money, and next they'll be asking for helpers. I'm sure the wages will be well above what people usually get around here.”

Dat
glanced at Matthew and then back at
Mem
, who gave a nod. “Anywhere those TV people are doesn't seem like the type of place a young, single woman should spend her time. You don't know the type of influences…” Her voice trailed off.

“Joy is wise,” Matthew stated, but his face flushed a little. Even as he said the words he remembered how she was singled out by the
Englischer
. He remembered how she'd helped the man, keeping it a secret from him.
What is she trying to hide?

“She's a sweet girl. No one has a negative word to say about her,”
Dat
stated, and from the look in the older man's eyes Matthew could finish the sentence for him—
yet.

“She works hard and is so talented. You should see her hand-stitching—as neat and straight as if done by a machine,”
Mem
stated, as if that proved her character.

A knock sounded at the back door, and Matthew rose. Joy stood there with a soft smile and a paper-wrapped package in her hand. “I'm so sorry. My delivery took me longer than I expected.” She peeked around, catching sight of his
mem
. “Happy birthday! I hope I'm not too late.”

Mem
glanced over her shoulder, sending her
kapp
askew. “Oh,
danke
. I'm just glad you've come. You do like cinnamon rolls, don't you?”

Joy fiddled with the strings of her
kapp
, waiting to be let in.

Matthew opened his mouth to ask about the delivery but changed his mind. This was something they could talk about later, away from his parents. They liked her, and he didn't want to give them any reason not to. Matthew stepped aside, and she hurried inside.

Without hesitation Joy sank down onto the chair next to
Mem
. She placed the wrapped package on the table. “I hope you haven't opened your gifts yet.”

A smile blossomed over his
mem
's face. “
Ne
, I haven't. I told Matthew I wanted to wait.”

Understanding his cue, he hurried to the garage and took the small box off the shelf. He'd stained it and then given it a lacquer coating to make it shine. But his favorite part was what was inside, not only for
Mem
but for Joy too. It was a surprise neither of them expected.

He paused for a moment just outside the door, questioning if the time was right to include Joy's gift. He knew he wanted to
marry Joy, but something inside nearly gave him pause. Should he ask her about this morning's delivery? Should he warn her about getting too involved with the
Englischers
? She seemed so impressionable.

In the end he decided his minor worries weren't enough to stop him from sharing the truth. He loved Joy, and he knew his parents believed her to be a wise choice for a bride. With the surprise inside the box, the days would be counting down until he confessed his love before the community. Until he made her his wife.

He entered the house, holding the recipe box behind his back. Matthew nodded his chin toward
Mem
. “Go ahead and open Joy's present first.”

Mem
didn't hesitate. She picked up the package from the table and opened it, pulling out two dish towels. A quilt pattern was sewn on the bottom of the towels in vibrant colors. On the top Joy had stitched one of
Mem
's favorite sayings: “Kindness when given away keeps coming back.”

“They're the colors from your flower garden,” Joy gushed. “You do have some of the loveliest flowers.”

“These dish towels are beautiful. What a thoughtful gift, Joy.”

Joy turned to Matthew. “All right, your turn.” Eagerness filled her eyes.

Matthew pulled his hand around and placed the recipe box on the table in front of
Mem
.

Mem
's hands moved to her mouth, and she let out the smallest squeal. “So this is what you've been doing out there,
ja
?”

“Isn't it wonderful?” Joy jumped in before Matthew had a chance to comment. “I was talking to Lovina about it, and she'd love to sell them at her pie shop. She wants to order twenty to start, and she thinks they'll sell fast—”

“Twenty?” A chuckle spilled from his
dat
's mouth. “When would you have time to make twenty recipe boxes?”

The hair on the back of Matthew's neck bristled, but he held back a scowl.
Dat
was one of the kindest men he knew…and also one of the most opinionated. “Well, they wouldn't have to be as intricate as
Mem
's. It might take me a while—”

“Still, you have a job already.”
Dat
closed his Bible and pushed it to the side. Then he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. He always took that stance when trying to make his point. “You don't want to waste time on recipe boxes when you have more than enough construction work.”

Tension wrapped around Matthew's chest like a vise. He felt Joy's gaze on him, but he couldn't look at her. He knew his father meant well, but
Dat
had never understood his love for woodworking. To
Dat
it was a hobby—something that should be done in one's spare time. And like most Amish men,
Dat
thought there was little spare time with all the work required to care for a family.

Instead of commenting, Matthew turned to his
mem
. “Open the box—there's more of your gift inside.”
Mem
opened the box and gasped. “Recipes! Where did they come from?”

“Well, you'll just have to look.” He leaned forward and started to flip through them. “Some are from your sisters and some from cousins. I wrote to a lot of them, but I also asked Aunt Marilyn to help me spread the word, and she outdid herself. And…” He picked up one recipe card and turned it over. “You'll see on the backs that many people sent birthday wishes too.”