another month or two’s wear.
“Ask your mamma if she’s purposely stirring up trouble by bringin’ more English customers into the neighborhood,” Rachel prodded again.
It was daughter-in-law Fannie’s turn to retort. “Listen, Rachel, you can speak directly to Mamma—for goodness’ sake, she’s right there across the table!”
“Jah, and you can’t say yous don’t rely on outsiders for feed and grain and suchlike,” Esther pointed out, momentarily setting her work aside to look at Rachel.
“Feed salesmen ain’t exactly outsiders,” Anna said, reentering the conversation.
“True,” said Betsy, “they’re Mennischte— Mennonite.”
“But tractor salesmen, what ’bout them?” Rachel shot back.
Now Betsy was really peeved. “I have nothin’ at all to do with them.”
“Oh, but others here do . . . and you know right who you are, too!” Rachel rose quickly, marching to the back of the house, where a small washroom had been added on, similar to Reuben’s addition on the Fishers’ own house.
Silence reigned while Rachel was absent, though Betsy felt like spouting off but good. She was being sorely tested here in her sister-in-law’s house, but she was holding her peace all the same, just as she had the day Reuben’s mother had lambasted her. Of course, that had been a different matter altogether.
Well, maybe not so different, come to think of it.
All these insinuations from Rachel and even Anna were directly related to the tension between the church groups. Three of them now—Old Order, New Order, and the Beachys. Truth be told, it was rather surprising that the bishop’s wife would have included womenfolk from all three groups at today’s work frolic.
Got to give her some credit for making an effort at unity, Betsy mused.
She recalled Preacher Manny’s sermon last Sunday on having a brand-new life. Manny had said the Lord would not force His life upon anyone against his or her will. One’s will played a big part in coming or not coming to Calvary’s cross. That, and the divine calling—the inward drawing and wooing, much as in courtship the lover pursued the beloved. Might Anna and the bishop eventually be drawn to salvation? Might Rachel, too? Betsy faithfully prayed so, just as she trusted for others in her community still in bondage to tradition.
Less than one month before changing churches means certain shunning!
Rosanna wished to goodness Cousin Kate had gone to the sewing frolic instead of staying so long after nursing Eli this morning. That her cousin had entirely given up on nursing Rosie seemed odd, though it was time now for Cousin Kate to be done nursing both babies.
Rosanna’s anticipation had nothing to do with keeping Kate away from the babies. But Kate was not at all herself, and her behavior was setting Rosanna on edge. Was it postpartum blues? Plenty of women suffered during the months following a birth, and she, of all people, wanted to be understanding and compassionate. Even so, it jarred her when Kate completely ignored her gentle question about when she planned to stop nursing Eli.
Rosanna tried again. “Two months have come and gone, cousin. Elias and I have appreciated your help, but I’m sure ya have better things to do with your time than make daily visits here.”
Even after this, Kate seemingly refused to look Rosanna in the eye. Instead she leaned over Eli, stroking the dimpled arm that peeked from beneath his blanket.
“Such a handsome one, he is,” Kate murmured. “So like his father.”
Rosanna shuddered at the comment. How would Kate feel in her place? Leaning hard against the doorframe, she tried to see things from Kate’s perspective—how very difficult this must be, giving her babies away. She couldn’t begin to imagine it.
“Look how his right eyebrow arches ever so slightly,” Kate said, tracing it with her pointer finger.
“I’ve noticed, too.”
Then Kate touched her own eyebrow, as if comparing.
Rosanna had to
“Ask your mamma if she’s purposely stirring up trouble by bringin’ more English customers into the neighborhood,” Rachel prodded again.
It was daughter-in-law Fannie’s turn to retort. “Listen, Rachel, you can speak directly to Mamma—for goodness’ sake, she’s right there across the table!”
“Jah, and you can’t say yous don’t rely on outsiders for feed and grain and suchlike,” Esther pointed out, momentarily setting her work aside to look at Rachel.
“Feed salesmen ain’t exactly outsiders,” Anna said, reentering the conversation.
“True,” said Betsy, “they’re Mennischte— Mennonite.”
“But tractor salesmen, what ’bout them?” Rachel shot back.
Now Betsy was really peeved. “I have nothin’ at all to do with them.”
“Oh, but others here do . . . and you know right who you are, too!” Rachel rose quickly, marching to the back of the house, where a small washroom had been added on, similar to Reuben’s addition on the Fishers’ own house.
Silence reigned while Rachel was absent, though Betsy felt like spouting off but good. She was being sorely tested here in her sister-in-law’s house, but she was holding her peace all the same, just as she had the day Reuben’s mother had lambasted her. Of course, that had been a different matter altogether.
Well, maybe not so different, come to think of it.
All these insinuations from Rachel and even Anna were directly related to the tension between the church groups. Three of them now—Old Order, New Order, and the Beachys. Truth be told, it was rather surprising that the bishop’s wife would have included womenfolk from all three groups at today’s work frolic.
Got to give her some credit for making an effort at unity, Betsy mused.
She recalled Preacher Manny’s sermon last Sunday on having a brand-new life. Manny had said the Lord would not force His life upon anyone against his or her will. One’s will played a big part in coming or not coming to Calvary’s cross. That, and the divine calling—the inward drawing and wooing, much as in courtship the lover pursued the beloved. Might Anna and the bishop eventually be drawn to salvation? Might Rachel, too? Betsy faithfully prayed so, just as she trusted for others in her community still in bondage to tradition.
Less than one month before changing churches means certain shunning!
Rosanna wished to goodness Cousin Kate had gone to the sewing frolic instead of staying so long after nursing Eli this morning. That her cousin had entirely given up on nursing Rosie seemed odd, though it was time now for Cousin Kate to be done nursing both babies.
Rosanna’s anticipation had nothing to do with keeping Kate away from the babies. But Kate was not at all herself, and her behavior was setting Rosanna on edge. Was it postpartum blues? Plenty of women suffered during the months following a birth, and she, of all people, wanted to be understanding and compassionate. Even so, it jarred her when Kate completely ignored her gentle question about when she planned to stop nursing Eli.
Rosanna tried again. “Two months have come and gone, cousin. Elias and I have appreciated your help, but I’m sure ya have better things to do with your time than make daily visits here.”
Even after this, Kate seemingly refused to look Rosanna in the eye. Instead she leaned over Eli, stroking the dimpled arm that peeked from beneath his blanket.
“Such a handsome one, he is,” Kate murmured. “So like his father.”
Rosanna shuddered at the comment. How would Kate feel in her place? Leaning hard against the doorframe, she tried to see things from Kate’s perspective—how very difficult this must be, giving her babies away. She couldn’t begin to imagine it.
“Look how his right eyebrow arches ever so slightly,” Kate said, tracing it with her pointer finger.
“I’ve noticed, too.”
Then Kate touched her own eyebrow, as if comparing.
Rosanna had to
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