Phoebe's Gift Page 6

  Aunt Millie’s sharp intake of breath stopped Phoebe. She hurried on after Aunt Millie gave a little wave of her hand. “Don’t pay me any mind. Just read.”

  “‘I saw ponies right here on my farm, and the faces of children I didn’t know riding on their backs. I saw laughter and smiles and hearts that were healing. I saw hope rising like clouds up to the heavens, and I saw evil slain with kindness, and wrongs made right with prayers offered at nighttime by our simple beds. I don’t know, dear Lord, how possible that is. How could an Amish woman ever do such a thing, or how could my farm become a part of heaven’s plan? But I thank You for letting me see what Your will is, and for allowing me to believe it can be done. Is this not what we are to pray for? And for this I do pray. Let it happen, Lord. Let my farm become a healing place for those who do not know Your love. Let me be the hands through which Your mercy touches a weary and a broken world. Amen.’”

  Phoebe laid the tablet down and forced herself to breathe.

  “Now you understand,” Aunt Millie said. “No one must ever see this.”

  “But the dream must happen,” Phoebe told her. “Grandma’s dream. She believed I could do this.”

  “That’s what I feared you would say,” Aunt Millie said. She pulled out a chair beside the sewing machine and sighed deeply. “I know in my heart this is right, which is why I spoke up the other night so quickly.” Aunt Millie wiped away tears. “I’m sorry that I doubted, Phoebe. You can do this. I know you can.”

  Phoebe reached for Aunt Millie’s hand, and for a few moments they clung to each other.

  EIGHT

  The following morning Phoebe paced the living room floor in her best Sunday dress. She had changed more than an hour ago, right after going to the back pasture to bring Misty up and throw the harness on the horse. Eight o’clock was thirty minutes away, when she would leave for the Sunday services at Bishop Rufus’s place.

  Grandma’s brown tablet lay on the kitchen table, right where she had placed it yesterday after Aunt Millie left. They had eaten lunch together and read again that explosive piece about Grandma’s vision of the pony farm linked to her dream of heaven. Neither of them had dared read further after that. Aunt Millie had only stayed long enough to pack up a few things from the attic. What she would do with them, Aunt Millie hadn’t said, but likely a fair distribution to all the siblings had already begun.

  Phoebe was committed now. She really was. Aunt Millie knew it, and likely her uncles would learn of her decision today. It was hard to breathe, thinking about her new responsibilities and what Grandma claimed she had seen in the heavens. No wonder Aunt Millie had wanted the prayer book kept a secret. Uncle Homer and Uncle Noah might not know the full details, but they must have known the basics of what Grandma wrote. After all, they had allowed the pony farm idea to get this far. Her family had hoped she would be the one to give up on the plan, but she had found out what the others knew. She had read Grandma’s prayers and heard her words of faith. She could be brave Phoebe Lapp again. If Grandma thought so, she could.

  Phoebe trembled and sat down on a kitchen chair. She could approach bold thoughts, but the years had taken their toll. She was not bold the way Grandma had been. How Grandma’s words had burned into her soul yesterday. Such confidence! To think that she could…

  Phoebe reached for the tablet and flipped it open. She waited a moment before her eyes lit on the first page.

  My thoughts and prayers before the Lord, dedicated this day on my eighteenth birthday, July 3, 1938. I am young yet, and I know I have much to learn, but I also know there is a God who watches the affairs of men. I hope with all my heart that I can prove pleasing in His sight. So my first prayer is, Lord, help me know what Your will is, and help me do that will. Beyond that, what can one do but give thanks? I am born into an Amish community who seeks to benefit each other in all ways, and to protect us from the world and keep awful things from happening in our lives. For this I give thanks, and for the love I feel in my heart for Mamm and Daett. There are ten of us right now, with another little one on the way. I am the second born, with my brother Milton being the oldest. May You help us all, and give us wisdom and strength for the journey through our lives.

  Phoebe closed the tablet with a snap and leaped to her feet. How Grandma prayed. Honest and brutal cries of the heart were laced with a boldness that took one’s breath away. Did Mamm know about this? She had to, but Mamm had never breathed a word about it to Phoebe or any of her siblings. The family had worked hard to cover up Grandma’s eccentric ways. That seemed the logical explanation, but now Phoebe was held up by Grandma’s strength.

  Phoebe hurried out of the house without her shawl. The July air was warm, and there wouldn’t be a chill in the air until late August—if she remembered correctly from her only year in the valley. Misty whinnied when Phoebe entered the barn. There was no sign of the ponies, but she had petted and fed them this morning when she brought Misty in from the back pasture. Phoebe stroked the mare’s neck before leading her out of the stall to hitch her to the buggy. Minutes later she was headed north on Highway 170 toward Bishop Rufus’s place on Highway 29. Deacon Matthew lived further north on the same road, which was where the church services would be held in two Sundays.

  Phoebe jiggled the reins, and Misty increased her trot to a steady pace. Buggies gathered behind her, so Phoebe knew she wasn’t late. Several girls leaned out of the open doors to wave to her, and Phoebe returned the greetings. By the time she arrived at Bishop Rufus’s driveway, two buggies were in front of her and more than a half dozen were behind. She had to wait while the buggies unloaded the womenfolk at the end of the walk, but Misty didn’t mind taking a break. The horse calmly reached down for a few blades of grass along the lane, and Phoebe let the reins go limp. She didn’t worry about the appearance of her horse. None of her brothers would have tolerated a horse snatching breakfast in front of the house where a Sunday service was held. They would have kept the reins taut and would have protested if their horses tried such a stunt.

  Phoebe smiled as she waited. She missed her family back in Lancaster, but the truth was that the peace of the valley had grown on her while she was busy with Grandma’s care. She felt at home here. Phoebe jiggled the reins when the second buggy in front of her pulled off and headed toward the barn. When Misty reached for another mouthful of grass, she called out, “Come on, girl. Let’s go.”

  Misty jerked her head up to lumber forward. Uncle Homer stepped out of the line of men beside the barn and hurried toward Phoebe’s buggy.

  He greeted her with a smile. “Goot morning! How are things going?”

  “Okay. Has Aunt Millie spoken with you?”

  He jerked his head. “Not here, Phoebe. We’ll talk later.”

  “But—”

  His look was sharp. “I’ll be by next week, and we can go over things then.”

  She let out a long breath, knowing there was still hope. “Thank you,” she muttered.

  He hurried off with Misty without a backward glance. They would have to face the community eventually, and until then, Uncle Homer planned to keep as much under his hat as possible. But that was his way. Uncle Noah would support his brother fully, so she’d best watch her step with the women this morning. She wanted to blurt out the whole story to the first listening ear. Now she had been warned.

  Aunt Millie met her at the mudroom door with a quick hug. “Goot morning,” she whispered. “Don’t say anything to anyone about the pony farm. Homer wants to break the news in his own way.”

  “At least he’s not going back on his promise,” Phoebe whispered back.

  Aunt Millie gave her a quick look. “Has Mamm’s spirit already begun to influence you?”

  That’s not a bad thing, she wanted to say, but she couldn’t breathe at the moment. Was she really like Grandma Lapp? Could she find her way back to the person she used to be?

  Phoebe followed Aunt Millie into the kitchen with her head down. Bishop Rufus’s frau, Mae, stood by the kitc
hen sink and whispered in Phoebe’s ear, “You’re still here. I was half expecting you’d be back in Lancaster by now.”

  Phoebe smiled. “Something has come up.”

  That seemed safe enough to say because Mae had obviously not been told about the pony farm plans. At least the bishop should have been told by now. Uncle Homer took secrecy too far. Everyone in the community must be told eventually, and the sooner the better.

  Phoebe greeted the circle of women who stood around the kitchen. She finished a moment before Mae led the way into the living room for the start of the service. As the oldest single girl, her place was right behind the last of the married women. Sometimes the routine didn’t work out exactly this way, but today everyone fell into place on schedule.

  Phoebe kept her head down again for the walk to the end of the empty bench. She settled in and raised her head for a quick look around. David’s face was right across from her on the unmarried men’s bench. He gave her a smile, and Phoebe returned it. She would have to speak with him sometime this week. Perhaps before Uncle Homer made his visit. David had been patiently waiting for her to decide. She should have gone down to the Fishers’ place yesterday afternoon with the news, but Leroy would have wanted to say his piece. That scene might not be pleasant, and she was still no Grandma Lapp.

  Phoebe ducked her head as someone gave out the first song number and the singing began. The flow and ebb of the service surrounded her, and Phoebe drifted into a daze. Her courage was building. She could comfort herself with that thought. She would even dare read more of Grandma’s prayer journal when she arrived back home. The pages seemed sacred and blessed all at once. Maybe that’s how things were when the Lord placed His finger of blessing on a life. And here Phoebe was, being touched by Grandma’s life and receiving direction after Grandma had gone to her reward.

  Grandma must have planned this, and yet she had left huge gaps where things could have gone wrong if the Lord had so directed. What faith the woman had carried in her heart. If Phoebe could achieve that single virtue, she would consider her life blessed.

  Phoebe snuck a quick look at David’s face. His concentration was fixed on his songbook. She would have to work closely with him in the days ahead. Thankfully, he seemed dedicated to the faith, even if he suffered from the Fisher family’s notorious reputation. She had confidence in Grandma’s opinion. If Grandma trusted David enough to hire him, Phoebe would not complain.

  She had been given a great gift by Grandma. Everything was slowly falling into place. She could feel it. Now if Bishop Rufus would add some further thought with his sermon today, the windows of heaven would truly be open. Phoebe held her breath for a few seconds as the ministers filed down from the upstairs and the singing stopped.

  She listened intently to the first sermon. “This is grace,” Minister Hostetler said, “this godly heritage we all have of Christian parents. We can pause often to look at the Lord’s blessing not only in the heavens, but also on this earth. We all had praying parents who bent their knees before the Lord. This has an effect on those who come after them more than we can ever imagine.”

  Phoebe kept her gaze on Minister Hostetler’s bearded face. Did the man know about Grandma Lapp’s prayer book? Not likely. He wouldn’t approve of such boldness or such plain speaking by a woman. And yet Grandma’s life was affecting hers. Minister Hostetler couldn’t disagree with that if he knew. The godly effects were there for everyone to see.

  Phoebe ducked her head as the sermon ended and Bishop Rufus stood. “Let us bless the Lord and worship His great name. His works are from everlasting to everlasting, and His blessing without end. Each morning brings a new sun and a new outpouring of the goodness of the Lord. We should be thankful and praise His name from the rising of the sun to its setting. Blessed be His name.”

  As Phoebe listened, a smile crept across her face. Bishop Rufus didn’t know about her new life either, but his words spoke to her. Indeed, this was one more sign from heaven that the Lord’s blessing was upon Grandma’s dream.

  Phoebe caught David’s glance and gave him a warm smile. They would labor together very well. That much was clear. David wasn’t like his daett. Maybe the grace Grandma had left behind for the Lapp family would also bless the Fisher children. Perhaps Ruth could even be saved from making the terrible mistake of jumping the fence into the world.

  Phoebe gave David another smile and settled in to listen as Bishop Rufus continued his sermon.

  NINE

  Phoebe hitched Misty to the buggy the following Tuesday morning and drove south on Highway 170. She could have chosen to walk the distance the way David did between the Fishers’ house on Burrell Road and Grandma’s farm, but her entrance into the Fishers’ driveway would be more dignified considering the business at hand. David was of age, and he wouldn’t need his daett’s permission to work on the pony farm. Still, she wouldn’t put it beyond Leroy to throw a fit if she gave him the slightest excuse. Things were going too well at the moment to allow problems to occur through carelessness.

  Phoebe jiggled the reins as the horse settled into a slow trot. She would have to put forward a brave face this morning if Leroy confronted her. Leroy’s bad management skills did not restrain the man’s opinions. This much she knew from hearing the man hold forth on the lawn after the Sunday meetings. She would receive an earful of Leroy’s thoughts on this wild adventure of hers, but she knew his anger would be better directed at her than at his son. While Uncle Homer broke the news to the community, this would be her chance to tell David. She could sit around the farm and wait for another visit from him, but that might take another week or two. David would have heard from someone else by then. She had wanted to speak with him after the Sunday evening hymn singing, but he was not an easy man to catch alone. Her courage was not large enough yet to march up to the man and broach the subject in front of others. Leroy was enough to handle at the moment.

  “Whoa there,” Phoebe called to Misty as she neared the Fishers’ driveway. Misty almost came to a complete halt before she made the turn and lumbered up to the barn.

  Leroy’s frowning face appeared in the barn door. “I’m thinking someone didn’t teach you to drive very well.” He stroked his long beard. “You almost turned the buggy over trying to turn at the end of my driveway.”

  “I did not!” Phoebe retorted. “Misty’s a slow horse, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “Sort of like her mistress, eh? Getting on up in years and going nowhere.”

  Phoebe gripped the reins until her fingers ached. Leroy’s tongue was sharper than a spring plow blade. Maybe the community had been kind in their evaluation of him.

  “Cat got your tongue too?” he continued. “I thought you’d be back in Lancaster by now. Or are you taking on the schoolteaching job this fall? Not that I think you should, but…”

  “I didn’t come to ask your opinion. I want to speak with David and with you.”

  “Oh, you do?” He stroked his beard again and contemplated her. “I didn’t place you as having that kind of nerve. Now my son, I can see where he would get ideas, but I wasn’t expecting you to come calling before he makes the first move. But I guess old maids from Lancaster are getting desperate these days.” Leroy finished with a wicked grin. “I’ll go tell him you are here.”

  “You would be completely wrong to think that,” Phoebe snapped.

  Leroy paused midstride to turn around. “So why would you be calling—and late in the day, I might mention—when normal people are already busy?”

  Phoebe fixed her gaze on Misty’s long mane and lowered her voice. “I’m planning on telling you the reason, even if it is none of your business—but let me say this first. It’s not about what you just said.”

  “Oh.”

  Phoebe resisted the urge to give him a fierce glare.

  “I’m waiting.”

  “I want David here before I speak,” she said.

  He didn’t move. “I want to know what this is about first.”
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  “I will go and find David myself.” Phoebe bit the words short. “I’m sure you have him working hard somewhere on one of your—” She stopped abruptly. She was clearly out of her place. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be speaking like this.”

  “Yah, that is true. But you are a fiery one underneath that meek face of yours. I don’t say that I object. David is much too laid-back for his own goot, so I see he knows what he’s doing.” Leroy grinned. “I’ll be getting him then.” With that, he vanished into the barn.

  Phoebe tried to still the rapid beat of her heart. What in the world was wrong with her? She’d never had a temper before. Where had that angry response come from? Somehow she must bring herself under control.

  Leroy reappeared in the barn door with a sheepish David in tow. “Okay, spill it! What are you two up to?”

  “Daett,” David objected.

  Leroy gave him a sharp look. “Not that I object to your interest in Phoebe, but she has something to say first.”

  “I…” David stalled.

  “This is about a pony farm for Englisha children in need,” Phoebe began. “If you’d listen for once instead of running around with your opinions already fixed, you’d hear what I have to say.”