Keys of Heaven (24 page)

A
s married women, Linda and Ella Peachey sat fairly close to Sarah in church in Lev Esh's huge basement room, but there was of course no opportunity to speak until the service was over. She did her best to let her soul calm itself during the slow singing of the hymns, and to remember that during each hour of a Sunday morning across the time zones of the country, somewhere an Amish congregation was singing the “Lob Lied” at exactly the same point in the service and lifting up God's name in praise.

During the fellowship meal afterward, Sarah didn't have the nerve to bring up such a sensitive topic in case others heard. But when she saw Ella and Linda strolling near the rockery that was Saloma Esh's joy, admiring the variety of plants, Sarah saw her opportunity.

She joined them and, for the span of a single second, thought it might be all right—that Benny might have cleared the way before her.

But no. The delight in the garden that had been in Linda's eyes faded into politeness, and Ella's face closed the way certain flowers did at night, to protect themselves from things that stung and nibbled. Sarah could not go back and leave this damage unrepaired. She must go forward in the humblest way she knew.

“Ella—Linda—please, may I speak with you?”

They exchanged a glance in which Sarah clearly saw Ella say without a word,
It's up to you, Schweschder.
Linda nodded.

At which point the careful speech she had prepared early this morning while she was making breakfast completely fled her mind.

“I have done a very hurtful thing,” she began. “I have been so caught up in my pride and in my little skill as a healer that I completely forgot that God is the healer and His will must be done.”

The two sisters-in-law stood waiting, and Sarah despaired that she would ever find the words to make right her error.

“In my foolishness, Linda, I thought that if you had a home of your own, and quiet and security, that you would be better able to conceive.” Linda's hand moved over her flat belly in a way Sarah instantly recognized. “But Benny told us last night that God has done what I in my blindness could not.”

“I believe your herbal drinks helped,” Linda said at last.

“But my putting ideas in your head about leaving your home could not have.” Oh, she must not cry before she got these words out. “When Benny was telling us last night, I could see that I had caused offense in him. And if I did that, then Ella, what must you feel?”

“Our home is not perfect,” Ella said stiffly. “But it is our home, and God is there.”

“I know that now,” Sarah whispered. How could she explain this?

Her gaze, blurry with unshed tears, fell on Saloma's rockery, and the jaunty “keys of heaven” plants that waved and bloomed on the edges.

And then the words came, as though the
gut Gott
Himself had put them there.

“You see those plants there, the ones with red flowers?”

“The Jupiter's beard?” Ella asked.

“
Ja.
They are also called keys of heaven, and while they don't have a use so much to an herbalist, they've taught me a lesson. You see, they grow where the soil is thin and rocky and it doesn't seem as though there should be enough to sustain them. But God has made them so they find what they need, and they like it best right where He puts them. What I never saw until now is that the plant doesn't think
thin and rocky
at all. The plant thinks,
Here is where I belong, where I can get what I need to grow best.
”

“And you think that is how I am?” Linda's face had softened, and the light had begun to return to it. “Because I do. I belong on the farm with my family, and the boys, and that barn full of inventions.” She gave Ella a fond smile. “There is where I have what I need to grow best. Both of us do. And that is why you couldn't really convince me to leave.”

“We had quite a job calming Benny down last night,” Ella said. “To hear him, you would think Crist and Linda had a wagon loaded, ready to pick up and move into Henry's place.”

Henry.

Sarah heaved a sigh that seemed to come right from her shoes. “I have that seam to mend, too. But I could not go another day without making it right with my sisters in the church. Will you forgive me for letting my pride and wrongheadedness get the best of me?”

“Of course I forgive you,” Linda said, and leaned in to hug her. “I am so happy right now that I cannot bear to let anything get in the way of it. I am sure your herbs have helped God's hand along. Taking the herbs is the only thing that has changed for me, so it must be so.”

“And you, Ella?” Sarah asked. “Will you forgive me?”

“No wrong has been done except in your own mind, and God has taken care of that.” Ella extended a hand. “I would not want us to not be in fellowship together. I forgive you, if you will forgive yourself.”

Sarah pulled her into a hug, and to her great relief, Ella came. They stood close together, admiring the rockery and the keys of heaven with its jaunty red flowers.

“I wonder I didn't see this lesson before,” she mused aloud. “Look at Eric, the
Englisch
boy that Priscilla and Benny found purely by chance, and brought back here. He was not content to grow in his place, which he found very rocky, and so he ran away. I know how I felt when Simon and Joe went to that dude ranch without telling me exactly where they were going. I can't even imagine what Eric's parents went through before they knew he was safe—so young, and so reckless.”

“I have been afraid for Benny and Leon many a time, but they always seem to land on their feet,” Ella said. “Even still, they don't seem inclined to run away.”

“Benny loves his home,” Sarah said. “I could see that. I only hope this Eric learns to be content where he is. I certainly don't want to find him on my doorstep again and face his father's anger. Once was enough.”

Linda looked past Sarah's shoulder and waved. “My
gut Mann
has brought the buggy around, so we must go. And here is your Caleb, too.”

“I hitched up Dulcie, Mamm,” Caleb said, hanging back respectfully in case he was interrupting them.

“I'm ready, and leaving with a lighter heart than when I came.” She smiled at Linda and Ella, and her heart softened even further at the sincere smiles of forgiveness and friendship they gave her in return.

God really did answer prayers, she thought as she let Caleb take the reins and drive the four miles home. Later, when he had gone over to his Daadi to talk cows and barns and what Jacob jokingly referred to as “the meaning of life,” she sat on the back steps next to the lemon balm, whose gentle scent filled the air and whose vigorous branches were now crowding the porch. She could almost lean on it as she would the shoulder of a friend.

Scripture said,
It shall be given you in that same hour what ye shall speak
, and God had been faithful in showing her that humble little plant in the very moment of her need.

Which told her something. Eyes closed, she lifted her face to the summer sky and let the sun fall on it in blessing as she approached the Lord.

From far away, she heard a voice hailing her, and opened her eyes to see a lean figure coming over the top of the hill.

Henry.

And not with his usual amble, either, that told the onlooker he was more concerned with looking at plant forms than where he was going. He was walking with a purpose, as if he had news to tell her.

Well, she had news for him, too. She'd learned a lesson, and she hoped he'd be happy to hear it so that they could clear up every misunderstanding and truly be friends again.

Her step was light as she made her way to meet him through the flowers blooming in the field.

1. The “keys of heaven” plant grows in rocky places where the soil is thin and other plants don't find survival easy. Yet it thrives in its place. Who would you say is thriving in his or her place in this novel?
   
2. Who is trying to move out of his or her place? Do you think it's a wise move? If you were in that place, would you do the same?
   
3. Sarah and the other Amish people in Willow Creek are friendly with the
   Englisch
   among whom they live, but they are aware that they cannot “have fellowship” with them. What do you think about this?
   
4. Do you like the character of Ginny Hochstetler? Do you think she and Henry are right for one another?
   
5. Sarah tells Silas Lapp that she's dedicated to her new calling as a healer and declines his courtship. Was this the right thing to do? Do you think she'll regret it?
   
6. Sarah felt she was doing the right thing to encourage Linda Peachey to push for a home of her own. Do you think this blinded her to what was best? Do you think she was following God's will?
   
7. Eric ran away to pursue his passion. Would you have taken steps this extreme if you felt strongly about something?
   
8. What do you think of Sarah and Henry encouraging Eric to stay in Willow Creek instead of returning him to his parents right away?
   
9. If you had been Eric, would you have chosen two weeks in an Amish home over two weeks in New York City?
   
10. What do you think Henry is coming to tell Sarah at the end of the book?
    

If you enjoyed the first two books in Adina Senft's Healing Grace series, look for the next installment,

Balm
of
Gilead

A
H
EALING
G
RACE NOVEL

Turn the page for an excerpt.

A
n Amish woman's year, Sarah Yoder had always thought, was governed not so much by the twelve-month paper calendar on the kitchen wall than it was by the hand of God. Instead of crossing off squares, a woman lived according to the cycle of the preaching on every other Sunday, and the blossoming and fruiting of the trees and plants in garden and orchard.

Because of the wet spring and hot summer they'd had this year in Whinburg Township, the gardens had gone crazy—and still were, here at the tail end of September with its chilly nights and crisp blue days. A branch on one of the old Spartans in Jacob and Corinne Yoder's apple orchard had actually broken from the weight of its apples, so the word had gone out and sisters' day had been moved up to deal with the emergency.

Autumn was Sarah's favorite season. Every one held its blessings, it was true—spring for the tender greens and shy flowers and the seeds going into the soil, summer for the long days of growing and canning and putting by, winter for the rest the plants took under their blanket of snow and for the lamplit evenings spent with family and friends. But there was something about autumn that Sarah loved more than any of these. Maybe it was the sense of the earth giving back all that the work of her hands had put into it. Maybe it was the full pantry with its rows and rows of jewel-toned jars of canned fruit, pickles, and vegetables. Or maybe it was just the quiet in the air now that the work was coming to a close—air that was still enough that she could smell burning leaves and hear the shouts of the little scholars going into the one-room schoolhouse on the other side of the county road.

Her younger son Caleb had had a brief—very brief—moment of nostalgia for those innocent days he'd left behind, earlier at breakfast. As he tucked away ham and eggs and biscuits and strawberry jam, he'd said, “It's hard to believe my school days are gone for good, Mamm. I don't even have to keep my work journal anymore. Can I have another piece of ham?”

She'd forked a piece onto his plate and tried not to smile. An eighty-year-old man couldn't have reminisced any better about the days of yore. “Are you looking forward to your first day of work with Jon Hostetler?”

His mouth full, Caleb nodded vigorously. With a mighty swallow, he said, “Daadi Jacob says I'm to keep humble and do as I'm told, and before I know it, I'll be running a work crew and maybe even my own outfit.”

Sarah stifled a pang at the thought of how quickly those words came out of a man's mouth. The years would run by just as quickly and her boy, fourteen now, would be working and marrying and going to his own home that he would probably build with his own hands.

Which is just as it should be, if God willed it.

But for now, she would value every moment with him, even the ones where she swore she would wad up the dishcloth and stuff it in his mouth to keep him from talking her ear off. There would come a day, she knew, when she would give anything to hear him talking, even if it was about something mystifying, like helping Henry Byler on the next place fire his pieces of pottery in the kiln.

But then, the whole subject of Henry Byler was mystifying, and one best avoided if a woman were to keep peace in her heart.

Her walk across the fields on the path that she, Caleb, and her older son Simon had worn into the soil brought her to her in-laws' place. Already she could hear the voices of women raised in encouragement, exclamation, and laughter. She picked up her pace, cut through the backyard, and walked around the laurel hedge into the orchard.

Half a dozen women and a few young men stood on ladders, their dresses and shirts making them look like brightly colored birds in the trees.

“Sarah!” Corinne, her late husband's mother, was filling a basket next to the poor abused Spartan, which thankfully was old enough and low enough that she didn't need to climb up on a ladder. In her late sixties, Corinne still had the sunny smile of a girl as she waved, the breeze catching at her purple dress. “Choose any tree you like. We're determined to lighten the load on the branches by at least half, and make as much applesauce as we possibly can by dinnertime.”

“And pie,” called Corinne's youngest daughter Amanda, who at twenty-one was the only child still at home. “Not to mention tarts, strudel, and Schnitz.”

She was still at home … but not for lack of Sarah's attempts at matchmaking. She and Corinne were going to have to put their heads together and see if they couldn't improve their results in that department. They thought they'd found a likely candidate earlier in the summer, but he'd had the bad judgment to prefer Sarah instead, so that plan had been a failure.

Yes, it was true that God had His plan for Amanda, and He would reveal the special someone He had in mind for her in His own good time. But plans could be helped along, couldn't they? Didn't the Scripture say that all things worked together for good to them that loved God, and were called according to His purpose?

If the Bible said it, then it was so.