A Shining Light Read online

  “I think so.”

  As the wagon rumbled along the dirt road, the warmth of the sun lulled Lukas, and he rested his head against his mother’s shoulder. Once the boy went through a growing spurt, he’d soon be taller than Andrea. Her features were delicate, yet she possessed strength of spirit and protection that many women lacked. There was no doubt her love ran deep for the little boy sitting beside her. And though his hair was several shades lighter than hers, they both possessed the same curly locks—his untamed, hers pulled into a tight knot near the nape of her neck. Only occasionally did a wispy curl pull loose and frame her pale complexion. I forced myself to turn away when she glanced in my direction.

  As we neared Lily Pond, she squeezed the boy’s arm. “Look, Lukas.”

  Lukas stared in wonderment at the lily pads that floated atop the water and gave the appearance of a hovering green carpet. He strained forward for a better look. “Are there fish in there?”

  I nodded my head. “Ja, there are fish. The lily pads cover the water and help to keep it cool for the fish in the summer.”

  Lukas stared at the pond for a moment longer. “But it would be hard to fish in there. I think my line would get tangled in the lily pads.”

  I winked at him. “Then it is gut you don’t have to fish here.”

  Andrea pulled him close and he returned his head to her shoulder. How wonderful it would be if this could last. Since his arrival, I had become more and more attached to Lukas. More and more often, I had to remind myself that he was not my son. Yet the thought of living the rest of my life with this boy and his mother was never far from my mind. I could envision sharing my love with them, helping Lukas become a strong and upright young man while also enjoying Sister Andrea’s endearing qualities.

  Andrea’s devotion to her son had first won my admiration, but I now found other things that kept drawing me closer to her. I had noticed the way she treated Sister Erma with much respect and love, and I’d watched the way her faith seemed to be blossoming here in the colonies. Most of all, I’d noticed she did not speak ill of her deceased husband, although I was certain she had cause to do so. Never had I met a woman so full of grace and inner strength.

  I’d done my best to squelch thoughts of Andrea, but I’d been unsuccessful. No doubt she would eventually leave, but even that thought hadn’t been enough to curtail my imagination. I had forced myself to remain mindful she was still in mourning, and I pushed aside the idea that the elders would likely find her an unsuitable match for me. After all, she’d not yet decided to become one of us.

  Thus far, those thoughts hadn’t impacted my prayers. In truth, I’d decided that if faith the size of a mustard seed could move a mountain, I had enough faith to keep Andrea and Lukas in West Amana. God knew the desire of my heart. God knew the depth of my faith.

  Lukas roused to attention as we neared the sheep barn in East. “Hurry, Brother Dirk. Make the horses go faster.”

  I laughed at Lukas’s enthusiasm. At his age, I’d felt much the same way when my mother and father had brought me to see the sheep. In fact, I still enjoyed the sight. I pulled back on the reins, set the brake on the wagon, and alighted. I held my arms out to Lukas and set him on the ground before helping Sister Erma down. My hands lingered on Sister Andrea’s waist a moment longer than necessary as I lifted her down from the wagon, and the pink in her cheeks told me she’d noticed.

  A crowd was gathered near the far end of the barn. While we were walking, I pointed in that direction. “There’s a door down there where the sheep can move in and out. Sometimes when the lambs are very young, the shepherds keep them close to the barn. But some of the ones that are a little older will be running around.”

  Lukas grasped Sister Erma’s hand. “Come on, Sister Erma. Let’s see if we can count more lambs than Mama and Brother Dirk.”

  “I think we’ve received a challenge. Shall we hurry to catch up with them?” Sister Andrea nodded toward Lukas and Sister Erma, who had picked up the pace.

  Dirk shook his head. “I think we will have plenty of time. If not, we’ll have to count some of them twice.” Sister Andrea’s mouth dropped open, and I laughed. “Don’t worry. I was only joking.”

  Wild flowers bloomed along the path, and the scent of hay carried on the breeze as we continued toward the barn.

  Andrea grinned in response to my words. “I want you to know how much I appreciate the time you take with Lukas. He admires you very much, and you’ve had a wonderful influence upon him. He tells me he is going to be a tinsmith when he grows up.”

  Her words pleased me, but it was her charming smile that warmed my heart. “Having him at the shop has been gut for both of us. He makes my days brighter. And so do you.” She stopped midstep and stared at me. I wanted to bite back the words, but that would be impossible. “I’m sorry. I should not have said that.”

  “Perhaps not, but it is nice to know that Lukas and I brighten your days.”

  I hoped she would say that I brightened hers, as well, but given her time of mourning, that was too much to ask. For now I would be content and continue to pray.

  Chapter 10

  Summer 1890

  Andrea

  As the months passed and summer arrived, I continued to pray about the future. Although I hadn’t received an answer, I’d become more accustomed to the idea of remaining in West. In truth, my options were limited. Still, there were women just like me who somehow managed to survive in the outside world, women who were mothers and didn’t have a husband to provide financial support. On a couple of occasions, I’d given thought to striking out on my own. Whether real or imaginary, my fears and the fact that Dirk would no longer be a part of my life stopped me.

  Besides, where would I go? I didn’t want to leave Iowa, for silly as it seemed, I still hoped to find the money my father had received for his farm. An inheritance wasn’t of importance to anyone who lived in the village. No one here worried about money. Their daily needs were met. And so were mine.

  Some days, the thought of leaving never crossed my mind. I enjoyed the daily routine of working with the other sisters in the kitchen, and the provision of food and shelter had truly saved us. Lukas and I were happier in the colonies than ever before. Perhaps my contentment was a sign that I was supposed to stay here.

  I had finally agreed that Lukas should further his education, so he had begun school last month. My decision pleased Lukas as well as Brother Bosch, Sister Erma, and Brother Dirk. We all agreed that continuing to deprive him of education or the friendship of other children was unfair.

  At Lukas’s urging, we’d been attending evening prayer meetings for the past six weeks. Being among people who lived their faith had stirred my desire to learn more about their beliefs. I decided prayer meetings would be a good place to begin that process. As I listened to the heartfelt prayers and concerns of the various members, a desire rose within me to read my Bible and pray more regularly. Though I was certain my faith didn’t match that of the members, I’d drawn closer to the Lord in recent days, and perhaps Lukas had, too.

  However, I soon realized it was time spent with Brother Dirk rather than the prayer meetings themselves that had motivated Lukas’s attendance at the meetings. Each evening he would sit beside Brother Dirk and imitate his every movement. While I was delighted to see the two of them enjoy their time together, I worried Lukas was becoming too attached to the tinsmith. And so was I.

  Each evening after prayer meeting, Dirk would join us at the Küche for a cup of coffee and a piece of leftover cake or pie while Sister Erma would tat and tell stories of life in the colonies when she’d been a young girl. No matter how many times he’d heard the accounts, Lukas would beg for the ones that made him laugh—tales of schoolboys hiding frogs in a girl’s desk or chasing a skunk under the schoolhouse.

  “Those boys always wanted the skunk to make a smell so the teacher would dismiss us from class, but one day he saw what they were doing.” Sister Erma clucked her tongue and shook her he
ad.

  “And then what happened?” Lukas always asked that same question.

  She winked at him and leaned close. “He told them if the skunk fouled our schoolhouse, he would send everyone home. Everyone but those ornery boys.” She laughed until tears ran down her cheeks. “Those boys, they never did that trick again.”

  As Lukas’s boyish features radiated with delight, memories of joyful times with my own parents flooded back—memories of a happy childhood. A childhood filled with love and warmth. This life in the colonies was giving my son a peek into a world he should have enjoyed since birth, one he’d never before experienced. Instead of criticism, anger, and a desire for personal possessions, he could see the true evidence of a good home and family: love. Perhaps my contentment and my son’s happiness should be answer enough for me.

  After I sent Lukas upstairs to get ready for bed, I grabbed my shawl and walked Dirk out. I wanted to thank him for helping my son adjust and helping him find his smile again. But before I could speak, he turned and said, “What was it like?”

  I cocked my head to the side. “What was what like?”

  “Your childhood.” He smiled beneath the light of the full moon. “I saw your wistful expression, and I began to wonder what it was like for you. We were practically neighbors back then, and I wonder if our lives were similar or different.”

  His sincere desire to hear my answer caught me by surprise. Fred had never acted interested in what I was thinking or feeling, but Dirk genuinely seemed to want to know.

  I pulled my shawl tighter. “I enjoyed a childhood that was like most, I imagine. There were chores, but there were many days of fun, too. We went sledding in the winter, and wading in the summer. I remember picnics with watermelon and making apple pie with my mother.”

  “So it was a happy time for you?”

  “Yes. Very.” I swallowed hard. “I was loved and I knew it.”

  “Why is there sadness in your voice now?”

  I didn’t answer right away, but Dirk didn’t press. After several long moments, he trailed his hand down my arm. “Sister Andrea, your Lukas knows he is loved.” His voice was so gentle, my heart squeezed. “No matter what has happened before, he is happy now. It is all over his face. You are a gut mother—a very gut mother.” He squeezed my hand for a second before pulling away. “Gut night.”

  “Good night.” My voice cracked when I spoke. “And thank you, Brother Dirk, for everything you’ve done—for us.”

  Lukas had plunged pell-mell into this new life, and soon after he began attending school, he begged to attend children’s church on Sunday mornings. I’d given him permission, but I still wasn’t ready to make that leap. The short and informal evening prayer meetings were one thing, but attending Sunday morning meeting might send a signal that I’d decided to make a permanent home in the colonies. A message I wasn’t yet prepared to deliver.

  On more than one occasion, Dirk had encouraged me to attend Sunday meetings, but I’d declined. I used my kitchen work as an excuse. Though he appeared disappointed, I’d gone on to explain that most evenings after Lukas went to bed, Sister Erma and I would sit side by side on the horsehair-stuffed sofa. By the light of the flickering kerosene lamp, we would take turns reading the Bible aloud. When I had questions regarding a particular Scripture, she never failed to stop and explain. I hastened to add that for now, I preferred learning about God and His ways in the privacy of Sister Erma’s parlor rather than in the church. Although I’d braced myself for the type of angry response Fred would have given, Dirk had merely smiled and agreed to respect my wishes. He’d even agreed that meeting alone with Sister Erma might be best for me right now. I still marveled at his kind ways. Perhaps one day such kindness would erase memories of Fred’s ruthless behavior.

  Sister Greta lifted another large handful of green beans onto her tray. “You are deep in thought, Sister Andrea. Something is bothering you?”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m fine.”

  How long had I been silently sitting beside her cleaning green beans? Along with two of the other sisters, we’d come out to the back porch to prepare the beans for canning. The breeze provided a respite from the kitchen’s daunting heat.

  She nudged me and leaned close to my ear. “You are maybe thinking about Brother Dirk?”

  I tightened my features into a mock frown. “You should not say such things where others can hear,” I whispered.

  Her eyes danced with mischief. “I think everyone can see how you two feel about each other. They don’t need me to tell them.”

  Sister Erma cleared her throat. “Is not polite to whisper, Sisters. If you have something private to say, wait until the rest of us are not sitting nearby.” The reprimand was gentle, yet clear and candid.

  Sister Greta leaned forward on her chair and peeked around me. “Please forgive me, Sisters. I did not intend to be rude.”

  Sister Erma lifted the wooden tray from her lap and dumped the cleaned green beans into a large kettle sitting beside Sister Greta. “Intended or not, you need to be mindful of others in the future, Sister. Your apology is accepted. When you have finished, bring the kettle inside and we will blanch the beans.”

  The thought of returning inside to sterilize jars and blanch beans made me long to remain outdoors. With the woodstove burning hot enough to boil the large kettles of water, the temperature in the house would be more stifling than the July heat outside.

  Once we were alone on the porch, Sister Greta continued her earlier conversation. “I think you should begin attending Sunday meetings. When Brother Dirk requests permission to court you, I am sure the elders will refuse unless you are considering becoming a member of the society.”

  I sighed. “There is plenty of time before I must decide whether I will become a member. As for Brother Dirk courting me—you seem to forget that my period of mourning hasn’t yet ended.”

  “Ja, but the marriage was not gut. You told me he was cruel to you and Lukas. The elders might not require you to wait for your entire mourning period. Who can say? Brother Dirk could ask.”

  “No. It isn’t proper, and if Brother Dirk and I are meant to have a future together, it will happen without asking to break the rules.”

  In her excitement, the tray of beans nearly slipped from her lap. “So you do think you will marry him? I knew it! The two of you are perfect for each other.”

  “Stop! You are drawing too many conclusions. We have never spoken of marriage, and whether we are perfect for each other remains to be seen. He is a wonderful man and Lukas is most fond of him.”

  Greta giggled. “And so are you—I can tell. I don’t know why you insist upon waiting. Has anyone told you that here there is a year of separation after a couple is pledged to marry? Think about how much time you are wasting with all the waiting around. And I am sure Lukas would like to claim Brother Dirk as his Vater.”

  Although I remained doubtful about my future, Sister Greta didn’t share my misgivings. She had already determined that I would marry Dirk and remain in the colonies. I wondered if she had spoken as candidly to him about our future. I decided it would be better not to know. I didn’t want to be embarrassed the next time I was with him.

  “We’d better hurry with these beans or they are going to fall behind in the kitchen. Sister Erma wanted to finish at least fifteen quarts before we start supper preparations.”

  “Ja, well, I do not think we have enough beans for fifteen quarts today. She always sets lofty goals.” Sister Greta lifted the tray from her lap and stood. “Of course lofty goals are better than none at all, ja?” She dumped the tray of beans into the kettle. “You are coming with us to the pond after prayer meeting?”

  I nodded. As the summer days grew warmer, several of us would walk to the pond after prayer meeting. Lukas and one of the other young boys would skip rocks while the rest of us sat beneath the trees and enjoyed the cool evening breeze. I had grown to enjoy this time together and had formed friendships with several of those among
the group. The latest addition to our number was Benjamin Lutz.

  I wasn’t sure why Benjamin hadn’t joined us until recently but guessed that Greta worried someone might tell her father. Perhaps she’d now gained enough trust in the group and believed her secret was safe with us. Right or wrong, Greta continued to fool most of the sisters who worked and ate in our kitchen house. They continued to think she hoped to marry Dirk.

  No doubt her father believed the same thing, for each evening after prayer meeting, he cheerfully granted her permission to join the group. Should he discover that it was Benjamin Lutz who kissed her cheek and held her hand, I don’t think he would have been so cheerful. While I worried her father might learn of the indiscretion and ban Greta from future outings, she didn’t think beyond her next meeting with Benjamin.

  I couldn’t fault her desire to spend time with the young man—he was everything she’d told me: good-looking and kind as well as fun-loving. His antics made all of us laugh, especially Lukas and his young friend, Peter.

  After I had finished cleaning my remaining tray of beans, I dumped them into the kettle and carried it inside. Sister Erma strode toward me and looked in the kettle. “That’s all of the beans?”

  I didn’t miss her frown. She’d obviously expected more. “Yes.”

  “I told you we didn’t pick enough for fifteen quarts.” Sister Greta stood beside the stove, her face damp with perspiration.

  “This will have to do for today. We’ll do twelve quarts and the rest we will cook and serve for supper. Tomorrow we will pick more.” She motioned to Sister Greta. “Take those beans out of the hot water. You can begin to fill the jars.” She waved me forward. “Blanch those beans in the hot water.”

  Positioning herself at a nearby worktable, Sister Greta placed a wide-mouthed funnel in the first jar and carefully filled it with the blanched beans. Once she’d filled the jars, she poured some of the cooking water into each jar.