A Simple Spring: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel Read online

  “Do you think the bishop would make an exception since it isn’t a photo of me?” Remy asked. She knew the Amish objected to photos for various reasons, one being that a photo showed a certain level of pride and vanity—traits discouraged by the Amish.

  The younger girl shook her head. “I don’t think the bishop would allow it.”

  Holding the photo to her heart, Remy sighed. Sadie was right. Besides, how would it look for a candidate for baptism to ask for exceptions to the rules? Remy didn’t want anything to stand between her and her devotion to the faith.

  Sadie sat back on her heels, a muted glow in her eyes. “Sometimes I wonder ’bout Katie and Sam, so young when Mamm and Dat were killed. I don’t know if they’ll remember what our parents looked like, and that’s a sad thing.”

  “It is, but they’ll remember the love. I’m sure of that. And everyone will tell them stories about their parents. Stories that will keep your parents’ love alive in their hearts.”

  Sadie gestured to the photo in Remy’s arms. “And when you have a daughter of your own, you won’t need that photograph. You must tell her stories about your mother’s love. That’s better than just looking at a photo, ya?”

  “You’re right.” Remy took one last look at the photo, grateful for Sadie’s insight. This ink dried on a piece of paper held no power over her. It was the memory of her mother’s love that mattered.

  Resolute, Remy tucked the photo into the box and closed it. She would ask Herb to store the photographs in a safe place, but she knew she would never look at them again. Instead of looking to the past, she would look to the future, to the moments she would share with Adam and the Kings. And if God blessed Adam and her with a child, she would regale him or her with stories of the grandmother who loved to laugh. A photo told only part of the story, but her memories, full and rich, would say it all.

  SIXTEEN

  Sadie pushed a squishy plastic sack of clothes into the trunk of Remy’s car and pressed until it was wedged into the tiny corner by the taillight. White plastic bags filled the trunk, like puffy clumps of snow. Sadie slammed the lid closed, but it bounced back open. She had to slam it three times before it stayed shut.

  They had already made one trip to drop off a carload at the Goodwill store, and now the car was ready again, but they would have to wait so that they didn’t miss the furniture truck.

  So many things! Sadie couldn’t imagine when Remy had found the time to wear the dozen or so pairs of pointy-toed shoes with high heels, or the three pairs of boots, none of them fit for working in their barn or even riding out to check the fences.

  Truth be told, some of Remy’s clothes had caught Sadie’s eye, making her heart race with longing. There were smooth jackets with buttery leather, and so many blue jeans. And when Sadie saw the drawer full of T-shirts, she couldn’t resist. Right now she had two T-shirts that she had bought with money she’d earned at the hotel, and one of them had a hole under the arm.

  “Do you think it would be okay if I kept a few things?” Sadie had asked, holding up a brown T-shirt that said “Hurley” across the chest in fancy letters.

  “Well, sure.” Remy had looked up from the floor of the closet. “But what do you need them for? Cleaning rags?”

  Sadie had pressed a hand to her mouth as she giggled. “I want to wear them.”

  Remy had seemed a little concerned, her lips pinching a bit, but she had said yes.

  Her heart merry with the new little gifts, Sadie had quickly tried to choose the colors that looked best on her. Greens, and browns that matched her amber eyes, and one in ruby red. She also took a simple summer dress with large blue and green blossoms that seemed to be giant smiles, and a simple pair of black leather shoes with a flat heel. Not wanting to take too much time away from their work, she had bundled them up right quick. They sat on the kitchen counter, and Sadie felt a bit like a little girl who’d gotten a dolly for Christmas. Now she wouldn’t have to look the same every time Frank saw her. She could wear a different shirt every night, like Heather and the other fancy girls.

  A rumble shook the basement garage as a big white truck pulled into the far corner and parked in two empty spots. Was that their truck?

  Sadie turned back to lock the car with the plastic nub, the way Remy had shown her. Behind her she heard the truck’s doors close, and one boy said something about an echo. A minute later, a deep voice sang out: “La, la, la!”

  Amused, she turned as laughter broke out. A handful of young men stood around the truck.

  Then, from the far corner of the garage an amazing sound burst forth. They were singing—all the young men together—and their voices blended in harmony.

  Harmony!

  The beautiful sound lifted her heart. Music like this was a gift from the Heavenly Father. She rubbed her arms to soothe the gooseflesh there.

  And the words were so simple.…

  “God will take care of you.” It was like the voice of the Lord Himself, singing a lullaby to a little baby in his arms.

  She listened in awe as they approached Remy’s car near the elevator, their voices blended into one big, warm sound in the garage.

  A few of the young men noticed her and smiled, their hymn drawing to a close.

  “That was beautiful!” She clasped her hands to her heart. “How did you learn such a lovely song?”

  “We’re in a church choir,” replied a young man with skin the color of chocolate. He had dark eyes and a very nice smile beneath his baseball cap.

  “It must sound wonderful good Sunday morning when you go to church,” Sadie said as she walked alongside them to the elevator.

  “Hey, Sadie!” One of the young men stepped out of the group. “I thought that was you. I almost didn’t recognize you with—well, you look different every time I see you.”

  She glanced up at the tall man and recognized his sparkling eyes and the smile that made her heart feel light. “Mike? What are you doing here?”

  “This is my church group. At least, when I’m in the city. Guys, this is my friend Sadie King.” He introduced Sadie to the other young men, though their names went by quickly—Leo, Daryl, Mitch, and Alex.

  “You’re the group coming to collect furniture, ya?” she asked. When Mike nodded, she laughed. “Well, it’s my friend Remy who’s been waiting for you. She’s got an apartment full for you.”

  “Sounds great,” one of the other young men said as he pushed the elevator button.

  “I can’t believe it’s you.” Mike leaned casually against the concrete wall by the elevator. “I see you everywhere. So I have to ask, what are you doing here in Philly?”

  “Remy needed help closing up her apartment.”

  He squinted. “Refresh my memory. Who’s Remy?”

  “She’s going to marry my brother Adam come wedding season.”

  “But she used to live here?”

  “She’s an Englisher, joining the faith and learning our ways.”

  “Wow.” Mike’s eyes, blue as a summer sky, sparked with interest. “That’s unusual, isn’t it? I mean, I know a lot of tourists are intrigued by the Amish, but not too many are actually willing to live Plain.”

  She nodded. “Ya, but our Remy is a very special girl.”

  “Must be.”

  The men waited for Sadie to enter the elevator first, then filed in, filling the boxy little space. As the doors slid shut, Sadie looked up at them shyly.

  “How about another song?” she suggested.

  “She likes us,” said the man with brown skin.

  “No, Daryl. She likes our singing,” Mike corrected.

  They began to discuss what song to sing next.

  “Should we do ‘Rock of Ages’?” someone said.

  “Hold on, guys.” Mike put his hands up, then gestured toward Sadie. “This young lady has an amazing set of pipes. Why don’t we do something together?”

  Joy warmed her heart at the prospect of singing with these musicians.

  “You pick so
mething, Sadie. I like to think our choir knows just about every hymn out there.”

  “Do you know ‘His Eye Is on the Sparrow’?” she asked.

  “Sure,” Daryl said. “You set the key. Just start and we’ll join in.”

  Tentatively, she began singing: “Why should I feel discouraged, why should the shadows come …”

  On the third word there came a low rumble of voices under hers, following her as closely as a plow followed a horse.

  Harmonies!

  Sadie could have cried out in joy for the beauty of it.

  And to feel her voice as a part of it all … music as a burning flame of faith that joined their hearts together … it was a wonderful feeling as Sadie glided into the refrain.

  I sing because I’m happy,

  I sing because I’m free,

  For His eye is on the sparrow,

  And I know He watches me.

  They had just started the second verse when the elevator doors opened, and Sadie looked up at Mike questioningly.

  But he kept singing, motioning for her to go first, and she stepped in the hall, leading the walking choir of singers to Remy’s apartment, where the door was cracked open.

  Still singing, Sadie pushed the door open and peeked inside. Remy came out of the bedroom as the group finished the verse.

  “Fabulous!” Remy applauded. “Where’d you get the choir?”

  “Look who I found in the basement.” Sadie couldn’t help but smile. “Our movers. And my friend Mike Trueherz is one of them. His dat is Susie’s doctor.”

  “Hi, Mike. Hey, guys. You sound great, but it’s a little early for caroling, isn’t it?” Remy joked as she motioned them in the door. “Come on in. I’m so grateful that you’re doing this.”

  Daryl appeared to be the leader of the group, and he followed Remy around the apartment, making a list of everything that would be packed into their truck. While they were talking, Mike went to the window while the other boys joked about how many stools each one could carry at a time.

  “Check out this view. Awesome.”

  “Ya, awesome.” Sadie turned her head toward Mike. “I didn’t know you sang, Mike.”

  “Just in the a cappella choir. That’s when you have singers without any instruments playing along.”

  “We sing our Sunday hymns a cappella, too,” Sadie said. “But Amish songs are very different from yours. They’re written in Deutsch, and there’s no harmony. The melodies are sort of drawn out, like a piece of taffy.”

  “I’ve studied that in music class. Amish songs have been compared to Gregorian chants,” Mike said.

  Sadie shrugged, not sure what that meant. “Do you have an organ in your church?” she asked.

  “We do. I’m Episcopalian, and our church allows lots of instruments. Sometimes the string choir plays. There’s a bass and a violin, a guitar. Sometimes there are brass instruments. That’s my favorite. The trumpets rock.”

  “In church?” Sadie couldn’t imagine it. “I think I would like that very much.”

  “You’re welcome to come to our church some Sunday and check it out,” Mike said.

  “Okay, guys. Break time’s over,” Daryl announced. “Let’s get this furniture outta here.”

  To Sadie’s surprise, the young men sang as they worked, just as she did. Mike agreed that it made the work go faster, and she stayed close to them, toting bags downstairs while they carried furniture just so she could listen to hymns so lovely they made her heart beat faster. Unlike the slow songs from the Ausbund that were never sung in harmony, these hymns were bright and exciting—poppies and mums blooming in a field of green! She tried to think of a way that she too could learn such hymns. Frank certainly wouldn’t let the band do them. How she wished she could go to choir practice like these guys and learn music there.

  “How did you find so many wonderful hymns?” Sadie asked during a break.

  “They’re there for the singing,” Daryl told her. “Some of these songs were written back in the eighth century. Anyone can perform them.”

  If only that was true, Sadie thought. “I’ve never heard songs so beautiful. Like prayers touched by an angel.”

  “What’s your favorite?” Mike asked.

  “It’s hard to choose. But the one you sang that second time in the elevator, ‘Be Thou My Vision,’ it gave me goose bumps. In fact, you have to sing it again. I want to learn it.”

  “Wow, girl, you got it bad,” Daryl said with a silly scowl.

  Sadie decided she liked him. Daryl tried to make a joke of most everything.

  “You know we’re happy to do the song again,” Daryl said. “But if you want to go bonkers with it, we have a CD in the truck. It’s the Mennonite Singers, and the harmonies are amazing. You can have it, if you want.”

  A CD. “Thank you, but I have no way to play it,” Sadie said.

  Mike pointed to Remy’s laptop. “Could we use that? I can download the songs onto your iPod right now, if that’s okay.”

  Remy said she didn’t mind, and Mike sat down, his fingers tapping the keys and making Sadie’s dreams come true. Within minutes, he had added the song to her playlist. He even gave her the little booklet from the CD so that she could see all the words—the lyrics, they were called.

  When the truck was all packed, Sadie went down to the garage with the guys, asking if they could do just one more song together.

  “I like your enthusiasm,” Daryl said.

  “Really,” said a shorter boy named Rex. “You should join our church choir. The girls could use a strong voice like yours.”

  “I would love to do that, Rex, but it would be too far to travel each week,” Sadie said. “I live with my family in Halfway. That’s Lancaster County.”

  “Well, you should find yourself a choir out there,” he said.

  Sadie had to breathe deep to keep hochmut, pride, from pressing on her chest, but she managed the breath and started “Silent Night,” which she knew from the singings.

  “Sleep in heavenly peace …” The music bounced off the concrete walls of the garage, making them sound bigger and louder. A few other residents on the way to their cars stopped to listen, nodding in approval.

  In that moment, as Sadie smoothed down her apron and fell into the song, she felt accepted in the Englisher world, despite the differences that usually seemed so obvious to her—her thick eyebrows, her unpainted fingernails, a pale face without makeup, and of course, her dress and kapp. These fellows didn’t think she looked like a cow!

  All the young men were wonderful kind. There was such an easy feeling here, with boys she’d just met. And why was that? she wondered.

  Watching Mike, she realized he was not treating her differently because she was Amish. He accepted her for who she was, and that made her feel strong inside.

  “Let’s stay in touch,” Mike said.

  Behind him the men were beginning to climb into the truck, and Sadie felt sad that her time with them was coming to an end. Quickly she exchanged cell phone numbers with Mike, and he promised to call and set something up.

  As she waved good-bye to the truck, her heart was light for so many reasons. There was Mike Trueherz wanting to be her friend. And there was this group of very nice guys, Englishers, who had shown her this music—these beautiful harmonies. The day had brought a wonderful joy to her heart.

  Back upstairs, Remy was in the hallway talking with a neighbor when Sadie returned to the apartment. She headed toward the big bathroom with the mirror so wide it was like another world you could fall into.

  Feeling braver, she cocked her head and smiled at the girl in the mirror. Maybe she wasn’t so terrible to look at, but her thick eyebrows clearly marked her as different from the rest of the world. No matter how she dressed, these eyebrows would announce that she was not a part of the big world.

  She took the dreaded tweezers from where she’d pinned them into her apron and leaned toward the mirror. How do you shape an eyebrow? She wanted to get started, and she certai
nly couldn’t afford to pay the experts Remy had mentioned. Hmm. She started by pulling out the little stray hairs between her eyes.

  “Sadie? You okay?” Remy called.

  “I’m good. In here.”

  Remy peeked in the open doorway, and sighed. “Back to the torture?”

  “I want to get it done. I don’t want to stick out anymore.” It had hurt to be mocked by Heather and her friends the other night, and though the young men from Mike’s church had accepted her as she was, that didn’t mean others would be so kind.

  “Please, Remy.” She held out the tweezers. “Will you help me be pretty, like you?”

  “Oh, Sadie, I think you’re beautiful as you are,” Remy said. “But I do remember wanting to look prettier when I was your age.” Remy sighed as she took the tweezers from Sadie’s hand. “I don’t think your brother would approve of this.”

  “Adam doesn’t really like anything I do these days,” Sadie said.

  Remy sighed. “I guess it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.”

  “Denki. Where do you want to do it?” Sadie asked.

  “The light is good in here. Just sit on the counter and relax.”

  Sadie slid onto the counter and braced her hands on the edge as Remy began to pluck from the tender skin under her brow. The pain brought tears to her eyes, but she ignored them and tried to distract herself by thinking of how much prettier she would look for the band’s next club performance.

  As Remy worked, it occurred to Sadie that this was a good time to ask the question that had been haunting her. “You don’t think Adam will really be cross with you, do you?”

  “He might, but it all stems from his worries about you. Under his brusque manner I know he loves me and will forgive me.”

  “Do you mind if I ask you something personal?” Sadie thought it might be a good time, with Remy concentrating so fiercely on the plucking.

  “Something tells me you’re going to ask anyway.” Remy’s voice was firm, but she was smiling.

  “When did you know that you loved Adam? I mean, not just the love you have in your heart for everyone, but the special love. The Big Love.”