meeting in the barn, where the breezes could blow through the wide doors. The weather having begun to turn, it made better sense to meet inside today.
From where she sat, Nellie Mae could see the back of Caleb’s head. Susannah Lapp and her mother and three younger sisters all sat primly in a row, off to one side. Normally Nellie wouldn’t have paid any mind to the other young woman’s whereabouts, but Susannah kept glancing at Caleb.
Wouldn’t she be surprised that Caleb likes me? Nellie thought, feeling more smug than she probably ought to on the Lord’s Day.
Forcing herself to listen carefully, she wished she could understand the Scripture reading. Both sermons, the shorter first one and the much longer second, were always given in High German, which only the older people like her Dawdi Fisher understood. Her father had also picked it up from hearing it again and again over the years. Nellie, though, would have much preferred Preaching to be in Pennsylvania Dutch, with occasional English mixed in, the way the People communicated at home and at work.
Because the sermons were not comprehensible, one of the only clues Nellie had as to the subject matter was the preacher’s facial expression—at this minute Preacher Lapp, Susannah’s uncle, wore a scowl. Susannah’s family was certainly well represented among the church brethren, with both a preacher and a deacon in this generation. Of course, that had everything to do with the drawing of lots, the practice through which the Lord God divinely ordained their ministers.
What else will God choose? She hoped Caleb wasn’t of the elect, at least not for Susannah’s future husband. She wondered again why Caleb had written to her instead of Susannah. Every fellow surely knew Susannah was the prettiest girl in the district.
Nellie pushed the gnawing thoughts away. Slowly she began to relax, the monotone of the preacher’s voice fading more and more, until . . .
Nellie’s head bobbed, but a hard poke to her arm from Rhoda jolted her. Hoping not to draw attention to herself, she sat up straighter and inhaled deeply, then held her breath, doing what she could to try to stay awake from now till the end of the three-hour service. Why was it so hard?
On the other side of her, Nan seemed to be choking down a chuckle; either that or she was struggling not to cough. No, Nellie was pretty sure Nan had seen her doze off during the unending sermon—just like their mamma, who was nodding off herself. That at least made Nellie feel some better, though she was thankful to be well out of Caleb’s view this Preaching service.
During cleanup following the common meal, when the women and some of the older teen girls were putting the kitchen back in order and the men were folding up the tables, Nellie came across two men talking heatedly on the back porch.
Not wanting to eavesdrop, she walked past them with the bag of rubbish she was carrying to the trash receptacle behind the barn, but the angry words followed her across the stillness of the barnyard. For the most part, the People were still gathered in the house.
“Listen here, I’ve got fifteen children, and four of my sons are out seein’ English girls,” one of the men said. “Can’t get my boys much interested in farmin’—the minute they turn sixteen, seems they’re out getting themselves an automobile . . . and, well, who wants to join church after that?”
“’Tis a bigger problem ev’ry year,” said the other, an old-timer. He took a puff on his pipe and blew out the smoke before going on. “You just ain’t hard enough on your young’uns.”
“You’ve forgotten what it’s like,” retorted the first man. “All this talk of cars and electric and telephones round here don’t help much, neither.”
Nellie nearly stopped walking, so badly she wanted to hear the rest of their pointed discussion, but she didn’t pause until she’d reached her destination. If men right here in their midst were
From where she sat, Nellie Mae could see the back of Caleb’s head. Susannah Lapp and her mother and three younger sisters all sat primly in a row, off to one side. Normally Nellie wouldn’t have paid any mind to the other young woman’s whereabouts, but Susannah kept glancing at Caleb.
Wouldn’t she be surprised that Caleb likes me? Nellie thought, feeling more smug than she probably ought to on the Lord’s Day.
Forcing herself to listen carefully, she wished she could understand the Scripture reading. Both sermons, the shorter first one and the much longer second, were always given in High German, which only the older people like her Dawdi Fisher understood. Her father had also picked it up from hearing it again and again over the years. Nellie, though, would have much preferred Preaching to be in Pennsylvania Dutch, with occasional English mixed in, the way the People communicated at home and at work.
Because the sermons were not comprehensible, one of the only clues Nellie had as to the subject matter was the preacher’s facial expression—at this minute Preacher Lapp, Susannah’s uncle, wore a scowl. Susannah’s family was certainly well represented among the church brethren, with both a preacher and a deacon in this generation. Of course, that had everything to do with the drawing of lots, the practice through which the Lord God divinely ordained their ministers.
What else will God choose? She hoped Caleb wasn’t of the elect, at least not for Susannah’s future husband. She wondered again why Caleb had written to her instead of Susannah. Every fellow surely knew Susannah was the prettiest girl in the district.
Nellie pushed the gnawing thoughts away. Slowly she began to relax, the monotone of the preacher’s voice fading more and more, until . . .
Nellie’s head bobbed, but a hard poke to her arm from Rhoda jolted her. Hoping not to draw attention to herself, she sat up straighter and inhaled deeply, then held her breath, doing what she could to try to stay awake from now till the end of the three-hour service. Why was it so hard?
On the other side of her, Nan seemed to be choking down a chuckle; either that or she was struggling not to cough. No, Nellie was pretty sure Nan had seen her doze off during the unending sermon—just like their mamma, who was nodding off herself. That at least made Nellie feel some better, though she was thankful to be well out of Caleb’s view this Preaching service.
During cleanup following the common meal, when the women and some of the older teen girls were putting the kitchen back in order and the men were folding up the tables, Nellie came across two men talking heatedly on the back porch.
Not wanting to eavesdrop, she walked past them with the bag of rubbish she was carrying to the trash receptacle behind the barn, but the angry words followed her across the stillness of the barnyard. For the most part, the People were still gathered in the house.
“Listen here, I’ve got fifteen children, and four of my sons are out seein’ English girls,” one of the men said. “Can’t get my boys much interested in farmin’—the minute they turn sixteen, seems they’re out getting themselves an automobile . . . and, well, who wants to join church after that?”
“’Tis a bigger problem ev’ry year,” said the other, an old-timer. He took a puff on his pipe and blew out the smoke before going on. “You just ain’t hard enough on your young’uns.”
“You’ve forgotten what it’s like,” retorted the first man. “All this talk of cars and electric and telephones round here don’t help much, neither.”
Nellie nearly stopped walking, so badly she wanted to hear the rest of their pointed discussion, but she didn’t pause until she’d reached her destination. If men right here in their midst were
Similar Books
