A Hope for Hannah (15 page)

Bishop Amos cleared his throat. “We have three names given to us by the voice of the church. Each of these brethren is to come up and choose a book. Will each man come forward in the order of these names? Henry Wengerd.” Hannah felt a deep stab of guilt at her part in this. “Ben Stoll.” Beside her Sylvia burst into quiet sobs. “And Jake Byler.”

Hannah felt her whole body turn ice cold.
It could not be! Not Jake. He is too young. There are surely others who are more qualified.

Hannah sat numbly as she watched the three men pass in front of her like trees. Henry went first, his step firm, and then Jake, his face as pale as the frost on their bedroom window. Ben followed, a great hulk of a figure, swaying forward as if he carried a load of logs too heavy to bear.

Without a word, Henry took the middle book, Jake took the one to the left, and Ben took what was left over. And so the fates of the three men were sealed. Amos came forward without hesitation and glanced at the clock as if he were in a hurry to get this over with. Hannah was surprised she could even breathe.
What has gotten into these church people to vote for two such young men? Has the world gone mad?

Henry was the one most qualified. Surely God would intervene and overrule the peoples’ lack of understanding in this matter. Henry was the only choice that made sense, and Hannah clung to that hope while she dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands. Jake would surely faint if his book had the piece of paper. Never had they spoken of such a thing.

Bishop Amos opened Henry’s book, flipped through it, turned it upside down, and gave it a little shake. The paper was not to be found. Next, Bishop Amos took Jake’s book, opened it, and then paused. Instantly Hannah knew the paper was there because of the look on Jake’s face. His eyes were wild, as if he was seeing a vision too horrible to imagine.

Bishop Amos held the piece of white paper in his hand and pronounced, “We have found the will of the church and the will of God. Will you please kneel, brother?”

Jake didn’t move for the longest time, and Hannah was sure Bishop Amos would have to repeat the order. Slowly Jake slid to the hardwood floor, his hands clasped in front of him.

“By the will of God and by the voice of the church,” Bishop Amos said, laying his hands on Jake’s hands, “you have been chosen to the high and holy office of minister. You are to serve in humility, in the power of the Holy Spirit, to rebuke, to exhort, to succor those who are ill in body and spirit, to give warning to the erring, and in all times and seasons to fulfill your calling.”

Bishop Amos then gave Jake his hand and helped him to his feet. He kissed Jake as did Bishop Nisley and the other local minister, Mose Chupp.

Beside Hannah, Sylvia was quiet, her sobs abated. Even in her dulled state of awareness, Hannah was certain Sylvia had pulled away and tried to put distance between them. She, Hannah, was now a minister’s wife. It happened so suddenly, so abruptly, like a shooting star falling out of heaven and onto her head. From now on, the other women would feel she was different from them, regardless of how much she wasn’t. She could no longer be just Hannah Byler.

Bishop Amos dismissed the service. The space on the bench to each side of her emptied, but she stayed seated, unable to move.

Dimly she became aware of her mother and then Betty, approaching from either side. Her senses registered arms around her shoulders. Their tightness gripped her. They stayed that way—the three of them intertwined—until the dam broke and the tears flowed. They wept together as one for a life that would never be the same again.

Seventeen

As the two couples climbed into the waiting van, Hannah felt intensely out of place. She was surrounded by the yard full of Amish buggies, and today of all days, when she was now a minister’s wife, they had to climb into a van to go home. Jake’s buggy would at least have provided some level of comfort, of sameness. It would have supplied the feeling that she was still one of them. Instead, she felt even more alone, surrounded by black hats and shawl-wrapped women.

She still burned with the intensity of her own feelings and had yet to look at Jake’s face. The driver of the van looked curiously at them as they climbed in.
Perhaps,
Hannah thought,
he is wondering if Amish communion services always produce such sober-faced men and tear-stained women.

The driver said nothing, though, and minded his own business, whether out of good manners or simply from past experience driving Amish. It didn’t matter at the moment to Hannah. She was just glad there were no questions.

The sight of Jake’s shoulder beside her on the van seat brought back the memory of his frightened face when the bishop opened the book. With the memory came her first feelings of sympathy for Jake. If this was hard on her, how must this affect him? He was the one who would be doing the work required of a preacher.

Hannah slipped her hand around Jake, found his arm on the other side, and tightened her grip. Jake didn’t look at her, but his face became a little less sober. She let her head lean against him, not caring how it might look to the van driver, who glanced briefly in his rearview mirror.

When they arrived home and were out of the van, Roy stayed behind to speak with the driver to arrange to be picked up Wednesday morning. Hannah and Kathy followed Jake silently into the house.

The stillness of the cabin was what struck Hannah the most. She had never thought of their home as being so silent, but it seemed so now, as if it held its breath along with them. She stood for a few moments and listened until a sudden pop of moving logs relieved her of the tension.

“Well.” It was all Kathy could find to say. Jake had simply seated himself on the couch and was staring straight ahead.

“We have to get some supper,” Hannah said.

“That’s what I was thinking,” Kathy agreed.

“I wonder if anyone will be hungry?”

“It’ll be good to eat…for Jake. We haven’t had anything since lunch. It’s later than you think.”

Hannah glanced at the clock, surprised. “The whole day seemed long,” she said.

“In some ways, it’s the same day as always, and yet how things change,” Kathy said in a low voice.

“What are we going to do?” Hannah asked. “We’re so young.”

Before her eyes passed the things required of Amish ministers. They stood in front of congregations, spoke sometimes for an hour at a time, left on Sunday mornings for the upstairs council meeting, were in on all church problems, made general decisions on things great and small, had to provide counsel for any member who needed it, and brought correction and rebuke to those who disobeyed the church
Ordnung.

Her Jake, nervous in public Jake, who had started praying out loud at home only recently, would now have to read long prayers in public, stand and speak without any help, and all in a very short time. How soon, Hannah didn’t know as she had never paid attention to such things, but surely it would come quickly.

“How soon before he has to preach?” Hannah asked.

“About a month, I think,” Kathy replied. “That’s about how much time they give them to get ready.”

“Ready…” Hannah said, more a statement than a question.

“I know,” Kathy said. “It doesn’t seem very long, now that you think about it.”

Hannah was silent as she considered that in just four Sundays her Jake would be up there in front of the whole church. The thought made her fingers go cold.

“God will help you,” Kathy said, adding, “I guess,” as if she had some question about it.

“Jake is alone in the living room,” Hannah said. “Maybe we ought to be with him.”

“Probably,” Kathy agreed. She was moving toward the door when Roy came in. She stopped, waiting for a moment.

“Maybe Dad will talk to him,” Hannah whispered, “since supper needs to be made.”

“Food will do him good,” Kathy suggested again.

“Let’s just heat up leftovers, then.”

Hannah lit the stove, the flame catching with the first match, and Kathy went outside to retrieve the meat, gravy, and fruit Jell-O from the springhouse. While her mother was gone, Hannah heard her father clear his throat and then begin talking to Jake in the living room.

“I know this was unexpected, son, but such things usually are. We just never know what the Lord has in mind on these matters.”

Jake must have nodded because Roy continued after a brief silence.

“It comes, though, with great honor, this office does. You are one of few who are called to lead our people. Not many receive this good burden. I know in this hour it doesn’t feel so good. It feels probably the exact opposite, like your world has come to an end.”

Again there was silence before Roy continued.

“Yet you must remember. Our forefathers—now over five hundred years ago—needed no special training or gift from God. The first one knelt and asked to be baptized as an adult. The others performed the baptism. That was all they had—just the truth and the support of the brethren.”

“But I am one of the youngest ones,” Jake finally said, his voice shaking. “There are others who are much better.”

“It makes no difference,” Roy said. “It is God who decides. He is the one who chose David to be king. David was younger than his brothers.”

“I don’t know,” Jake allowed, but his voice sounded a little stronger to Hannah. Behind her the door opened as Kathy entered, her hands full of the leftovers.

“Dad’s talking to Jake,” Hannah whispered.

“Is he doing any good?” Kathy asked.

“I think so. Anything helps right now.”

“It’s good Roy is here. He almost didn’t come along for the trip,” Kathy said.

“Who would have thought something like this would happen?”

“Not me.” Kathy set the bowls down on the kitchen table. “But you just never know.”

The old stove was warm by now, and Hannah placed the meat and gravy in the oven. Kathy set the table, the silverware clinking in the silence of the kitchen. Jake’s and Roy’s voices had ceased in the living room.

“It’ll be a few minutes yet,” Hannah said, more to make conversation than anything.

“There’s bread yet to slice,” Kathy offered for the same reason.

“We’ll wait till the food is warm,” Hannah decided as an urge to be with Jake came over her. “We can sit in the living room.”

“You’re going to have to learn your German better,” Roy said as they walked in.

Hannah glanced at Jake’s face. He seemed calmer now. His eyes were weary. The sadness was still there, but the fear was gone.

“Why do you say that?” Jake asked, his voice almost a whisper, as if he were uncertain what lay behind anything.

Silent now, Roy looked like he wished he hadn’t spoken. He finally managed, “When you preach, you know, it takes more German words than we normally use.”

Jake absorbed the information, his face blank, and then said, “I guess I’d better start studying, then.”

“Maybe I can send you a German language book when we get home,” Roy said.

“Should you be telling him so much so soon?” Kathy spoke up. “Jake’s got enough on his mind already.”

“I know,” Roy agreed, looking contrite. “I’m sorry.”

“No. That’s okay,” Jake said quickly. “The sooner I know, the better.”

Hannah was a bit relieved at how brave Jake looked, seemingly facing what lay ahead with newfound courage. But then the cloud passed over his face again.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, leaning in his direction.

“In four weeks,” he managed to say.

“Da Hah
will help you,” Roy said softly.

Hannah moved closer to Jake, put her arms around his neck, and pulled him tight against herself. At the moment, she didn’t care what her parents might think of this display of affection. They were married, after all. She felt useless and helpless to do anything more, but she could love Jake—that much she could do. Maybe it could help.

Jake managed a slight smile but then looked uncomfortable, so she released her arms but stayed close.

“The food,” Kathy said in a sudden burst. “Oh, my.”

“Now you burned it,” Roy said, a chuckle in his voice.

Even Jake had to laugh as Hannah jumped up.

How quickly life comes back,
she thought in her rush to the stove.
It takes only a few hours to come back
—
life does go on.

It was as she and Kathy placed the food on the table that Hannah realized they would surely not be moving back to Indiana now. Any doubt as to that question had been removed as completely as food from a cleaned kitchen table after a meal. A newly ordained minister did not move except for the most compelling of reasons. None of those reasons existed for Hannah and Jake. Joblessness and lack of money didn’t count for much.

Hannah shoved the realization aside for the moment and waited until she and Jake were in bed to think of it again. With Jake’s arms around her, she wept. She wept for Jake but also for herself, for the lost hope of a move closer to home, for the realization that Montana, cold Montana with its snows and bears, would not be parted from her.