“Lizzie! Rachel!” Marybeth Stoltzfus exited the house. She widened her eyes when she recognized Esther. “Esther? Esther Fisher?”
Esther smiled. “Ja, Marybeth. ’Tis nice to see ya again.”
“Come in. Come in,” the woman invited.
“I’ve known Marybeth since I was a girl,” Esther whispered to Lizzie. “But she was a Yoder then.”
The women set their dishes in the kitchen and then proceeded to the room where church services would be held. It was a large family gathering room. Benches had been placed in rows on three sides of the room, with the fourth side-area set aside for the preacher and church elders.
As she slid onto a bench next to her daughters, Lizzie recognized her sons seated next to their uncle on the other side of the room. She glanced toward Zack only to find his bright obsidian eyes studying her. She felt an infusion of heat and quickly looked away.
Preacher David Hostetler stepped into the spotlight and began the service. Everyone stood and began to sing from the Ausbund, the Amish book of hymns. They always sang a cappella, their songs sounding like chants. Aware of her daughters’ voices beside her, Lizzie joined in to sing praise to the Lord.
A slight movement to the right of her caught the corner of her eye, and Lizzie turned to see who it was. Little Anne slipped past her older sisters toward her, apparently wanting to sit next to her. Lizzie smiled and laid a hand on the child’s shoulder, pleased that this daughter, at least, loved her unconditionally. Mary Ruth shifted over to allow her little sister more room and then smiled at Lizzie, above Anne’s head, as if she understood. Sensing his regard, Lizzie realized that Zack had witnessed the exchange. She had no idea what he was thinking as he glanced toward Anne then her again, before he returned his attention to the preacher.
Lizzie’s heart started to beat hard as she focused on the service. Did she really want to know Zack’s thoughts?
Preacher David gave a wonderfully stirring sermon, which caught and held her attention. Inspired, she raised her voice as she sang when the time came for the Loblied, the second hymn. When there was a break in the sermon, she prayed silently.
Soon, church service was finished, and Lizzie rose and followed her daughters out of the room and into the kitchen. The men and boys stayed behind and began to rearrange the church benches and set up tables for the shared midday meal.
When she entered the kitchen to help with the food, Lizzie was suddenly surrounded and the center of attention as the churchwomen asked about Zack and Esther and Lizzie’s family until Esther walked into the room. The women’s excitement rose as they recognized her. Several of the church ladies offered their condolences to Esther on her brother’s death. Others questioned her about other matters, curious to know where the family had been living and what they’d been doing during all these years.
The setup of the dining area was complete. The food was unwrapped and ready to serve. The women grabbed the dishes they’d brought and carried them over to the men. Later, when the men had eaten, the women sat with their children and enjoyed their meal. The men escaped into the yard to talk about the weather, their farms, the upcoming fall harvest and other topics that the men liked to discuss.
Lizzie picked up two plates from the food table and carried them back toward the kitchen. As she approached, she overheard two women talking about the Fisher siblings and the farm. She listened, unable to help herself. When she heard someone mention her name, she froze.
“I was surprised to see Zachariah and Esther. But then, I suppose that I shouldn’t be. Young Zack is the rightful heir to his father’s farm.” The first woman’s voice came clear and strong, and Lizzie recognized her immediately as Joanna, Wilmer Miller’s wife.
“What about young Lizzie? She’s been a fine mudder to Abraham’s children. What will happen to her if Zack decides to stay on the farm?” Lizzie knew the identity of the second woman as Martha Yoder.
“Zack will see that she is cared for. He was always a goot boy—I doubt that has changed about him,” Joanna pointed out.
“But the children—
“Zack and Esther are more than capable of taking care of their nieces and nephews.”
“But Lizzie is their brooder’s widow!” Martha exclaimed.
“Ja, but Lizzie has a hindrance. Do you think she can do everything that’s necessary to keep the farm going and take goot care of seven children?”
“That kind of thinking is not the Lord’s way.”
“Ja, I know,” Joanna admitted, “but too often things are as they are anyway.”
The women’s voices faded as they moved out of Lizzie’s hearing. Their words still hurt her as Lizzie turned away from the kitchen, the leftover food platters in her hands forgotten, and nearly collided with someone.
“Lizzie.” Lydia King stood before her, startling her.
“Mam!” Lizzie gasped, nearly dropping the plates in her hands.
“What are you doing here?” Lizzie asked. “I didn’t see you at church service.”
Her mother rubbed her forehead with her fingers. “We just arrived. Went to service at the John Millers’. Then I thought I’d come see my daughter since she doesn’t visit me often enough.”
Lizzie stifled a growing feeling of irritation. She had lost her husband and she was dealing with the farm, the children and the house. Her family lived in another church district but close enough to come to her if they wanted, as they apparently had today. Before Abraham had died, she’d seen them often. Didn’t her mother realize how much she had to cope with?
Lizzie managed a genuine smile. She loved her mother, although Mam had been less affectionate with her than with her brothers and sisters during her childhood. “’Tis goot to see you, Mam.” She glanced behind her mother, looking for her family. “Did Dat come? And William and the others?” She referred to her siblings who still lived at home.
“Ja, the boys are here. Katie stayed at the Yoders’ after service. She’s interested in young Mark.”
Lizzie was glad for her sister, pleased that Katie had chosen to find her own happiness.
“Lizzie, you cannot continue as you have been.” Her mother regarded her with concern. “You need to find a husband, someone to help you with the farm and the children.”
Lizzie disagreed. “My husband passed recently. I’m managing on my own. Did you forget that you were the one who warned me that if I didn’t accept Abraham’s marriage proposal, then I’d never marry?”
Lydia waved her daughter’s concerns aside. “You’ve shown yourself to be a goot wife and mudder. Any man would be lucky to have you.”
Stunned, Lizzie could only stare at her. Who was this person and where was her real mam, the mam who’d hurt her, perhaps unintentionally, with words that made Lizzie realize that her disability bothered her mother? She’d never felt as if Mam accepted her. My limp embarrasses Mam. It was obvious to Lizzie that her mother found it easy to love William, Luke, Katie and her eldest married daughter, Susie. But not me—her crippled daughter. Lizzie hadn’t known her mother’s affection during childhood, and she was afraid to hope for it now.
It wasn’t that her mam wasn’t a kind person, a godly woman who lived by the Ordnung—the rules and religious teachings of the Old Order Amish community. But whether Mam realized it or not, Lizzie felt as though she’d never quite