home as well as in the barns. Yet driving a horse and buggy each time you wished to go anywhere had been a tough adjustment to make. Emma’s change from Old Order to New had been a far easier transition. However, living initially in her pushy mother-in-law’s home brought its own tribulations. Today, seeing Emma and James together with their two sons, you would think they had been born to their current lifestyle.
Her former rebel, Emma, was one happy woman.
Julia put the other mementos back in the drawer and slid it into the bureau. After returning Leah’s dress to its hanger in the closet, Julia ran her dust mop quickly over the wood floors and batted down cobwebs with her broom. She took a final glance around the room and closed the door behind her.
With her heart aching, this wasn’t a good day to throw junk into the trash.
Everything was how it should remain in her little girls’ room…at least for now.
F IVE
Niagara Falls, New York
P hoebe Miller had never seen anything so grand—and they hadn’t even reached the falls. Out the left side of the bus she viewed the Niagara River, a broad blue expanse of water dotted with seagulls bobbing on the waves, hoping for an easy lunch. Motorboats puttered to-and-fro as anglers sought the perfect spot to cast their lines. The water looked downright benign. Yet thanks to Eli’s story, she knew what dangers lurked beneath the silvery calm surface.
What if a boat’s engine conked out? Surely the unseen current would be too strong to paddle against, even if the vessel had oars on board. The terrified fishermen would be swept helplessly downstream. Cries for help to other boaters could go unheard. Certainly those cell phones that every
Englischer
carried wouldn’t work on a rushing, turbulent river. The poor souls would be carried to the brink of the falls, where they would hover for a few seconds before dropping over the edge to their deaths, not having the protection of a barrel like Annie Taylor’s.
Phoebe shuddered, trying to banish the morbid mental image. She gazed out the right-hand windows to view a cityscape of tall modern skyscrapers and many old-fashioned churches. “Buffalo,” the bus driver announced jarringly. “Birthplace of buffalo wings, home of the Buffalo Zoo, the famous Buffalo Bills, and the minor league Bisons.”
Not quite famous enough for a Plain artist from Holmes County
to have heard of
. But no matter. Viewed from the freeway, Phoebe
thought the city looked exciting and somehow hospitable. As their
route followed the river that connected Lake Erie to Lake Ontario,
the driver shared interesting tidbits about the Peace Bridge to Canada, Grand Island, and finally the Niagara Falls region. “Look there,”
he said. “Do you see those tall, odd-shaped buildings sprouting in the distance?” Many rushed to the left side of the bus to get a good look. “They are in Canada, our friendly neighbor to the north.”
Phoebe practically suffered whiplash trying not to miss a single landmark. Soon the bus exited the freeway and rattled down a side street, narrowed by parked cars on both sides. They pulled under the two-story canopy of their designated hotel.
“We’re here,” the driver called. The bus stopped so fast, Phoebe banged her nose on the seat in front of her.
Mrs. Stoltzfus exited the bus but then returned within five minutes with a middle-aged
Englischer
. She positioned herself up front with her clipboard, a bundle of white envelopes, and her I-mean-business expression. “This is our tour operator, Mr. Barnett. I will call out names in groups of four. When you hear your name, come forward and take your envelope from Mr. Barnett. Make sure
your
name is written on the envelope. Then exit the bus and go find your suitcase. Written under your name is your room number. Inside you’ll find a key card to get into your room and a tourist bracelet. You can work out later who bunks with whom. Put those bracelets on your wrists snuggly. The
Her former rebel, Emma, was one happy woman.
Julia put the other mementos back in the drawer and slid it into the bureau. After returning Leah’s dress to its hanger in the closet, Julia ran her dust mop quickly over the wood floors and batted down cobwebs with her broom. She took a final glance around the room and closed the door behind her.
With her heart aching, this wasn’t a good day to throw junk into the trash.
Everything was how it should remain in her little girls’ room…at least for now.
F IVE
Niagara Falls, New York
P hoebe Miller had never seen anything so grand—and they hadn’t even reached the falls. Out the left side of the bus she viewed the Niagara River, a broad blue expanse of water dotted with seagulls bobbing on the waves, hoping for an easy lunch. Motorboats puttered to-and-fro as anglers sought the perfect spot to cast their lines. The water looked downright benign. Yet thanks to Eli’s story, she knew what dangers lurked beneath the silvery calm surface.
What if a boat’s engine conked out? Surely the unseen current would be too strong to paddle against, even if the vessel had oars on board. The terrified fishermen would be swept helplessly downstream. Cries for help to other boaters could go unheard. Certainly those cell phones that every
Englischer
carried wouldn’t work on a rushing, turbulent river. The poor souls would be carried to the brink of the falls, where they would hover for a few seconds before dropping over the edge to their deaths, not having the protection of a barrel like Annie Taylor’s.
Phoebe shuddered, trying to banish the morbid mental image. She gazed out the right-hand windows to view a cityscape of tall modern skyscrapers and many old-fashioned churches. “Buffalo,” the bus driver announced jarringly. “Birthplace of buffalo wings, home of the Buffalo Zoo, the famous Buffalo Bills, and the minor league Bisons.”
Not quite famous enough for a Plain artist from Holmes County
to have heard of
. But no matter. Viewed from the freeway, Phoebe
thought the city looked exciting and somehow hospitable. As their
route followed the river that connected Lake Erie to Lake Ontario,
the driver shared interesting tidbits about the Peace Bridge to Canada, Grand Island, and finally the Niagara Falls region. “Look there,”
he said. “Do you see those tall, odd-shaped buildings sprouting in the distance?” Many rushed to the left side of the bus to get a good look. “They are in Canada, our friendly neighbor to the north.”
Phoebe practically suffered whiplash trying not to miss a single landmark. Soon the bus exited the freeway and rattled down a side street, narrowed by parked cars on both sides. They pulled under the two-story canopy of their designated hotel.
“We’re here,” the driver called. The bus stopped so fast, Phoebe banged her nose on the seat in front of her.
Mrs. Stoltzfus exited the bus but then returned within five minutes with a middle-aged
Englischer
. She positioned herself up front with her clipboard, a bundle of white envelopes, and her I-mean-business expression. “This is our tour operator, Mr. Barnett. I will call out names in groups of four. When you hear your name, come forward and take your envelope from Mr. Barnett. Make sure
your
name is written on the envelope. Then exit the bus and go find your suitcase. Written under your name is your room number. Inside you’ll find a key card to get into your room and a tourist bracelet. You can work out later who bunks with whom. Put those bracelets on your wrists snuggly. The
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