A Blessing for Miriam (30 page)

They sat in silence in the buggy for a long time. Finally Aunt Fannie’s hand tugged on Miriam’s arm. “We should go back now.”

Aunt Fannie was right. They should get back. Life had to go on. That was the way the Lord made things, and they must accept His power and grace. Miriam had always looked on this land as a place of promise, a place where her heart might find rest and peace. The storm today hadn’t been part of that promise, but there would still be God’s grace even when one’s expectations remained unfulfilled. In the end, the Lord’s hand would serve only what was best.

Twenty minutes later, Miriam pulled into their driveway. Uncle William came out of the greenhouse ruins at a fast pace, his face shadowed by grief. Miriam knew she could do little to comfort her uncle’s heart. The family’s tragedy was great, and from the intense activity of the rescue vehicles in Clarita, their neighbors may well have suffered even greater losses. The memory of her demolished schoolhouse appeared dim now when compared to the thoughts of people trapped in their homes. Some may have even died.

“Dear Lord, comfort all our hearts tonight,” Aunt Fannie whispered a quick prayer beside Miriam on the buggy seat.

Uncle William met them near the barn door. “Don’t unhitch,” he ordered in a weary voice. “We must go see if we can help our neighbors.”

Aunt Fannie didn’t hesitate. “I was thinking the same thing. We should take food perhaps. We still have supper on the table.”

“Can it be taken?” Uncle William glanced toward the back of the buggy.

“
Yah
,” Aunt Fannie answered. “Some of the food at least. We’ll go get it ready.”

“Let us leave soon. People will need help,” Uncle William said. “I’ll get a shovel and pry bar from the barn.”

Miriam shuddered at the images in her mind—twisted timbers, fallen masonry walls, people trapped in the debris. Uncle William was right, she was sure. They had prayed for safety, but the Lord did what He thought best. She must not question His ways, regardless of how wrong or destructive His choices seemed. The Lord often chose a direction mankind could not understand. In the end, though, He always gave a blessing.

Miriam hurried after Aunt Fannie.

Uncle William tied Sally to the hitching post and disappeared into the barn.

“Let’s see, how shall we do this?” Aunt Fannie placed Baby Jonathon on a blanket beside the stove and rubbed her forehead.

“We can take the bowls of food. Someone among the
Englisha
will surely have a portable gas stove we can heat it with.”

“They’ll have disposable plates and utensils to eat with too,” Miriam suggested.

“
Yah
, that would be right.” Aunt Fannie began to move with quick motions. “And we must take coffee. They will have pots and cups, but we will need some grounds to make it. This will be a long night unless I miss my guess.”

Miriam loaded up with the bowls of food and made a trip to the buggy. Uncle William had placed tools in the back, but he was nowhere around. Sally turned her head to stare at her, as if she couldn’t understand all the fuss. “There is much trouble afoot,” Miriam told her.

Sally nickered softly.

“Don’t be frightened with all the noise and lights in town.” Miriam patted Sally’s neck. “People are just trying to help, and that’s how the
Englisha
do things.”

Miriam turned as Aunt Fannie came from the house with her
arms filled. “There’s one more load,” Aunt Fannie said. “Then I’ll get the baby.”

The two were on the way to the house moments later. A wave of weakness swept over Miriam as they neared the front steps. Aunt Fannie stumbled on the way up. They were both near collapse from stress and tiredness, yet the night was still ahead of them. A night filled with labor and tragedy, to say nothing of further shocks. At least all at the Byler house had survived without bodily harm.

“Thank You, dear Lord, for Your grace,” Miriam whispered as she gathered up the last of the food bowls and a bag of ground coffee.

Aunt Fannie had baby Jonathan wrapped in a blanket and was already at the front door. Miriam followed her aunt outside and loaded her bowls into the back of the buggy. When she finished, Aunt Fannie had climbed in while Uncle William held baby Jonathon.

“Lord, protect his eyes and ears from the destruction all around him,” Uncle William prayed as he handed Jonathon up to Aunt Fannie.

“Amen!” Aunt Fannie agreed.

Miriam hopped into the back of the buggy and held on as Uncle William climbed in and urged Sally out the lane at a fast clip. Her hooves beat a steady rhythm on the pavement as they headed south on 48 and turned west at the first dirt road. The lights of emergency vehicles stabbed the darkness ahead of them. A soft glow filled the horizon as they approached Clarita.

“So how was the schoolhouse?” Uncle William asked Miriam.

“Nothing is left,” Miriam said.

“I’m glad school wasn’t in session,” Aunt Fannie said. “No one would have survived, I’m sure.”

Uncle William was about to respond when a buggy appeared on a side road. “That would be Deacon Phillips,” he commented.
“There must not be too much damage to the community people if he has time to arrive and help the
Englisha
.”

“Be thankful for that,” Aunt Fannie said. “I have a feeling that not all our people were spared damage. We couldn’t be the only ones.”

“It wouldn’t be the Lord’s judgment if we were,” Uncle William chided. “Surely you were not thinking so.” He slowed Sally so the deacon’s buggy could pull in front of them.

Aunt Fannie hung her head for a moment. “I will think on the Lord’s grace and not His judgment tonight.”

“That would be wise,” Uncle William agreed.

Moments later a firefighter appeared on the road ahead of them and directed them into a nearby field. Deacon Phillips’s buggy turned in to park, but Uncle William continued forward.

“Ask him about the food,” Aunt Fannie spoke up.

Uncle William called out, “Whoa there, Sally,” and brought the horse a quick stop.

The firefighter waved his hands and shouted. “Move on, mister.”

Uncle William ignored the order. “We’ve brought food along…and coffee. Where should we take it?”

A pleased expression flooded the firefighter’s face. “In that case, keep going another block. They have a command tent set up there. Come back here to park.”

“Will do, and thank you.” Uncle William clucked to encourage Sally to move forward.

Deacon Phillips hollered from the darkness, “Wait a minute!”

Uncle William pulled Sally to the side of the road, crossing a shallow ditch.

Miriam opened her buggy door as Deacon Phillips hurried toward them.

“Sorry,” he said. “I don’t mean to hold you up, but how are things at your house?”

Uncle William leaned out of his buggy door. “The greenhouse is completely gone, but we’re all here, so the Lord be praised.”

“
Yah
, that is true.” Deacon Phillips caught his breath from his quick rush. “Your house is okay?”

“A few shingles are gone. The barn was spared for the most part. How is everyone at your place?” Uncle William inquired.

Deacon Phillips said, “We thought we were in danger, but the storm passed to the west of us. The town got the worse of it…and you apparently. We are not worthy to be spared, but we were.”

“Miriam said the schoolhouse has been completely demolished. However, it’s not a night for condemnation or judgment,” Uncle William said. “We must do what we can.”

“
Yah
” Deacon Phillips agreed. “Good to know about the school. Just doing what we can, that’s why I came. And there are others coming behind me.” Horses hooves beating pavement could be heard in the distance as if supporting Deacon Phillips’s claim.

“How is everyone else in the community?” Uncle William asked.

“I don’t know. I came past Bishop Wengerd’s place on the way over here. They suffered quite a bit of damage to their house, but the family survived in the basement. They’ll be spending the rest of the night with extended family. I suppose we’ll know when the morning comes how everyone else fared.”

“May the Lord give us all grace for what lies ahead,” Uncle William stated. “We’ve got food that we best get down to the command center. Then we’re coming back here to park. After that we’ll see if we can find a place to help.”

“Sounds good,” Deacon Phillips said. “I have my tools along. I’m sure they’ll have some place for us to help. The town looks pretty torn up from here.”

Uncle William clucked to Sally, and they pulled back onto the road. On the street ahead of them, bright lights surrounding a tent lit up the night sky. Uncle William stopped near the front.

Miriam climbed down and reached up to take baby Jonathon.

Aunt Fannie came out of the buggy and looked around.
Englisha
were rushing about all over the place. Most of them were firefighters and police. No one paid them any attention. Aunt Fannie peered into the tent for a moment. “I guess we’ll have to take care of ourselves,” she said. “They do have a food table set up at the far end, but there’s not much offered.”

“We should have left baby Jonathon with someone,” Miriam said. “I suppose that would have taken too much time.”

“Food isn’t the main event tonight,” Uncle William told them. “However, let’s put out what we have. While you do that, I’ll go see where they need the most help.”

While they transferred the food items inside the tent, Deacon Phillips passed them with a shovel over his shoulder and a toolbox dangling from his left hand. After they were done, Uncle William climbed back into the buggy and drove toward the parking area. Miriam followed Aunt Fannie back into the tent. Two
Englisha
ladies appeared with smiles on their grim faces.

“This is so kind of you,” one of them said as they took in the food bowls. “I’m Margaret and this is Leslie. We’re trying to set up for the rescue workers, but we haven’t gotten very far. I know they’ll be hungry soon.”

Aunt Fannie smiled. “I’m Fannie Byler, and this is Miriam. That’s my baby boy, Jonathon. How bad is the damage in town?”

“Bad enough,” Leslie said. “I’ve heard about one fatality. There are no doubt more. Clarita got hit straight on.”

“We’re so sorry to hear that.” Aunt Fannie clasped and unclasped her hands. “Should we perhaps go help search for people?”

Margaret shook her head. “There’s plenty of help pouring in, and I see that more Amish are arriving. We’re so grateful for the aid. Right now food is the one thing we lack. There’s a utility trailer out back they brought in ten minutes ago, but I haven’t had time to check what it contains. Perhaps you can help there?”

Aunt Fannie nodded.

“Do you need someone to look after the baby?” Leslie asked, concern on her face.

Aunt Fannie chuckled. “He’ll be fine on a blanket in a corner that’s out of the way. It’s way past his bedtime, I’m thinking, so he shouldn’t be any trouble.”

Leslie and Margaret appeared skeptical, but they waited while Fannie set up a blanket in a nearby corner. Baby Jonathon kicked his legs but didn’t protest when Aunt Fannie set him down. Miriam left the three women watching baby Jonathon and went to explore the utility trailer. Shelves of packaged food lined the walls, along with gas stoves and other small appliances she didn’t know the use of. Miriam returned to the tent with several gas stoves. She set them up on the table.

Margaret and Leslie had disappeared.

“You’d best eat something,” Aunt Fannie said, coming to stand by Miriam. “Crackers maybe?” Aunt Fannie followed her own suggestion, and Miriam did likewise while they heated bowls of food.

Strength slowly returned to her body as Miriam chewed on crackers spread with peanut butter. They were a poor substitute for the supper they’d anticipated hours ago, but that food must go to the rescue workers. Even then, from the looks of things, there wouldn’t be enough to go around for long.

“We’ll mix in ours with theirs,” Aunt Fannie mused. “That should make a good start.” She made a quick trip out to the trailer and returned with bags of corn chips and slices of plastic-wrapped meat. These she laid out on the table beside the bowls of food from home.

The offerings wouldn’t go far, but they could ration things for a while, Miriam figured. Already she heard footsteps shuffling about outside. Soon a line of emergency response personnel was formed at the table. Miriam dipped out of the bowls in small quantities, while Fannie made coffee. People served themselves from the rest
of what was available. The food was gulped down while the men and women stood. They washed down the quick meal with coffee and bottled water that Fannie brought from the trailer.

“Excellent stuff,” one gruff firefighter told them. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Aunt Fannie said. “And thank you for your help tonight.”

A tear glistened in the man’s eyes for a moment. “These things are hard to understand, but I’m glad to see people of faith here tonight. It comforts our hearts.”

“We can all believe in the Lord,” Aunt Fannie assured him as he took another gulp of water.

“How did your place fare?” the man inquired. “I assume it’s outside town?”