The Matchmaker (2 page)
Besides adoring my Amish friends and “family,” I also adore my readers. Many of you know that I spend countless hours using social media to individually connect with as many readers as I can. I found some of my “bestest friends” online, and despite living in Virginia or Hawaii or Nebraska or Australia, they are as dear to me as the ones who live two miles down the road.
Well, something clicked when I combined my love of literature with my adoration of my readers and respect of the Amish. It is my hope that by creating this literary triad, my readers will experience the Amish in a new way. They will experience authentic Amish culture and religion based on my experiences of having lived among them and my exposure to the masterpieces of literary greats from years past.
I thank the good people at Charisma Media for sharing in my enthusiasm, especially Adrienne, who reached out to me and listened with an open mind.
It’s amazing to think that a love of God and passion for reading can be combined in such a manner as to touch so many people. I hope that you too are touched, and I truly welcome your e-mails, letters, and postings.
BLESSINGS,
SARAH PRICE
http://www.facebook.com/fansofsarahprice
Twitter:
@SarahPriceAuthr
L
EANING OVER THE
back of the kitchen chair, a very busy Emma Weaver struck an unknowingly pretty picture as she bent forward to rearrange the yellow and purple flowers in the glass jar. The late summer blooms had been plucked from her flower garden only an hour before, and their sweet scent wafted through the room as she moved them around for the third or fourth time in less than ten minutes. Satisfied at last, she stood upright, nodded her self-approval toward the bouquet, then quickly assessed the rest of the room with her cornflower-blue eyes.
The table was set with plain white linen and her
maem
’s best china, a gift from her
daed
when they had just been married. It was something that Emma loved to use when guests came for supper, especially on Sunday evenings. The sitting area was freshly cleaned just the day prior, for it was forbidden to clean on Sunday, regardless of whether or not it was a church Sunday or a visiting Sunday. The blue sofa and two rocking chairs with blue and white quilted cushions looked welcoming for their soon-to-arrive guests.
“Ah, Emma!” a deep voice called out from the staircase.
She looked up in time to see her
daed
shuffling down the stairs, taking each step one at a time as his weathered
hand held the railing. With his long, white beard and thinning hair, he looked older than his sixty-five years, a fact that worried Emma on a regular basis. “I thought you were resting,
Daed
,” she said as she hurried to meet him at the bottom of the stairs. Taking his arm, she led him to his favorite chair: a blue recliner that was covered with a pretty crocheted blanket she had made for him last winter.
“Such a quiet house nowadays,” he mumbled as he sat down and raised the foot of the chair so that he could rest his legs. “How sad for you that Anna went off to get married!” He clucked his tongue a few times and shut his eyes as he rested his head on the back of the chair. “Poor Anna, indeed! Why ever would she want to do such a thing anyway?”
Emma laughed, the sound light and airy. “
Nee
,
Daed
,” she quickly retorted. “We must be happy for Anna! Old Widower Wagler seemed right pleased last Tuesday, and I dare say that Anna was radiant in her blue wedding dress!”
“Radiant indeed!” her
daed
scoffed. “Left us alone is what she did. Who shall entertain you now, my dear Emma?”
“Now,
Daed
!” she reprimanded him gently. “I don’t need anyone to entertain me and you know that. We have quite enough to keep us busy, and I’m happy for cousin Anna to finally have a home of her own.”
Without giving him a chance to retort, Emma turned and hurried back into the main part of the kitchen. Everything was set up for their soon-to-be arriving guests. The bread she had baked just the day before was sliced and on a plate, covered with plastic wrap so the flies wouldn’t land upon it. The bowls of chow-chow, beets, and pickled cabbage were likewise covered and set upon the counter. Only the cold cuts and fruit spreads remained in the refrigerator.
For a few long, drawn-out moments Emma fussed at the
table, wanting everything to be absolutely perfect for their dear soon-to-arrive guests.
“Careful there, Emma,” her
daed
said, lifting his hand to point in her direction. “That’s a sharp knife there on the edge of the table!”
Laughing, Emma put her hands on her hips and frowned at him, a playful twinkle in her eyes. “
Ach
,
Daed
! I’m not a child anymore! I
see
the knife!” As if to make a point, she picked it up and wiggled it in the air. “No danger here.”
“Emma Weaver!” a disapproving voice came out from behind her.
Startled, she dropped the knife and jumped backward as it clanked on the linoleum floor. “Gideon King! You scared me!” she cried at the sight of the man standing in the door-frame. Annoyed, she quickly bent down to pick up the knife. Wiping it on her apron, she set it back on the table before hurrying over to greet their first guest.
“And
you
were teasing your
daed
!” he said, a stern look upon his face. “Good thing I walked in when I did! You could have cut yourself!”
“I almost did cut myself!” she retorted, making a playful face at him. “No thanks to you for scaring me so!” Despite her words it was clear that the presence of the newcomer pleased her. She reached up her hand to make certain that her chestnut brown hair was properly pinned back and hidden beneath her freshly starched prayer
kapp
, the ribbons tied neatly as they hung from the sides. Even if it was only Gideon, she wanted to make certain she looked proper and plain, like a good Amish woman.
“That’s no way to greet our guest, Emma,” her
daed
chided. “Come, Gideon! Greet this old man!”
The tall Amish man with thick, black hair and broad
shoulders crossed the room in three easy strides. He shook the older man’s outstretched hand. Emma watched with a smile on her lips, knowing that it had been a long week for her
daed
without Gideon stopping in to visit him. With no sons of his own, her
daed
had come to look upon Gideon as a son of sorts. Since Gideon’s younger
bruder
had married Irene, her older and only sister, Gideon was as good as family. And by the way he constantly reprimanded Emma, his voice more oft full of criticism than pleasure, she often felt as if she had, indeed, acquired an older
bruder
.
“It’s
gut
to see you, Henry,” Gideon said. “Looking well, as always.”
Henry gestured toward the sofa, indicating that Gideon should sit down. “Have you just returned, then?” He didn’t wait for the man to answer before he continued. “Tell us about your trip.”
Without waiting for an invitation, Emma joined the two men, plopping herself on the sofa next to the new visitor. “
Ja
, Gideon. Do tell us about Ohio. We missed you at Anna’s wedding last week!”
Stretching out his legs, Gideon smiled at the young woman next to him. “I wouldn’t have missed it if I hadn’t needed to attend to some business in the Dutch Valley,” he said. “I rode out with a couple who were going to visit their
dochder
who recently married a widowed bishop out there. They were traveling with a young woman from around here.”
“From around here?” Emma’s mouth fell open. “Do I know her, then?”
“Lizzie Blank,” was the simple response.
“Why! I wonder that she must be related to Widow Blank and Hetty!” She looked from Gideon to her
daed
. “Have we met this woman,
Daed
?”
Henry seemed to ponder the name for a moment, his brows knitted together and his eyes squinting as he did so. “I’m not so sure of our being acquainted with a Lizzie Blank,” came the answer.
Emma, observing Gideon brushing some dirt from his pants, smiled to herself at how fastidious he always was about his appearance, especially on Sundays. He glanced up at her, catching her watching him, and sighed, the hint of a smile on his face. “You can’t know everyone, Emma. I know how hard you try, but it would be quite impossible, it seems.”
“Gideon! You tease me so!”
He laughed. “I am all but a
bruder
to you, Emma. Isn’t that what
bruders
are supposed to do?” He changed the subject back to his trip. “It was a pleasant journey and she is a lovely young woman. A shame you
didn’t
know her, Emma. Her wit would have amused you immensely!” With a pause he turned his gaze to her
daed
. “Ohio was sure nice, especially at this time of the year. The rolling hills and winding roads make for a lovely backdrop for the long drive there.”
“Such a romantic!” Emma teased, which prompted Gideon to frown at her. Still, the fierce look on his face could not hide his pleasure at being reunited with his good friends after being away for so long.
“Speaking of romantics,” he replied, a mischievous gleam in his dark brown eyes, “who shed the most tears at Anna’s wedding, I wonder?”
Henry laughed and pointed at Emma. “You know her so well, Gideon. Surely you are aware that Emma wept through the entire service and the singing afterward.”
“Oh,
Daed
!”
But it was true, indeed. She
had
wept, mostly out of elation for dear sweet Anna, who, after so many years living
with them, had finally found happiness and married good ole Widower Wagler.
Only two months prior Emma knew very little about Samuel Wagler except that he had recently moved into a ranch house within their
g’may
. Prior to that he had lived with his older
bruder
and family in a neighboring church district, residing in the
grossdaadihaus
until it was needed by his
bruder
for his oldest son, now married and with an infant on the way
.
That was when Samuel had moved into their
g’may
.
Emma had noticed the way his dark eyes seemed drawn to Anna during his first church service in his new district. It had taken Emma only a few minutes to formulate a plan and invite Samuel to share supper with them. And from that moment on she had been delighted to watch the commencement of Samuel’s courtship of Anna. Delighted, that is, until she realized that by marrying Samuel, Anna would be moving away to live in that ranch house with her new husband.
That realization had saddened Emma and had been the other cause for tears during the wedding.
After all, Anna had been like a mother to Emma and Irene. After their
maem
passed away, when Emma was not even in school yet, their
daed
vowed to raise his two
dochders
on his own. He had married later in life and his
fraa
, while younger than he, had great difficulty in carrying her pregnancies to full term, making the two children who did survive all the more precious. Henry doted on his two
dochders
, a fact that contributed to his decision to remain single. So, while other widowers tended to marry within a year or two, Henry Weaver refused to consider that option. Instead, he readily agreed when his older
bruder
volunteered Anna, his
eldest and still unmarried
dochder
, to move to the Weaver residence and care for the children. What had been offered as a temporary solution soon became permanent for Anna. She enjoyed tending to the needs of her two young cousins, and with the full appreciation and support of her
onkel
Henry Weaver, she found that she had no reason to leave.
That was until, fifteen years later, Emma introduced the now forty-five-year-old Anna to Old Widower Wagler.
