Seeing Your Face Again (2 page)

The image of Alvin as a poor farmer didn't fit her picture of him at all, but everyone had their opinion, she supposed. She used to drive past the Knepp farm before she moved in with the Beilers. She enjoyed catching glimpses of Alvin's broad shoulders as he worked in the fields. He handled the team of horses with such grace and power. Sometimes he even raised his arm to wave at her, even though he didn't know her. This was something not every Amish boy would do—pay attention to an
Englisha
girl while he stayed within the
Ordnung
rules. But Alvin had, which was one of the reasons she admired him.

Much later she'd learned from Emery, Bishop Beiler and Saloma's youngest son, that the Knepp family ran one of the worst-kept farms in all of Snyder County. Emery didn't think Alvin or his older married brothers were to blame. Their father, Edwin, ran things with an iron-but-incompetent hand. The results were disastrous. And keeping the
Ordnung
rules perfectly didn't make up for that in the eyes of the community.

Alvin's father's farm problems didn't bother Debbie, but they obviously did Alvin. There was one thing she had on her side. Alvin understood why she was here. When she'd told him, he'd seemed to grasp why she wished to join the Amish community—benefits that included the peaceful lifestyle and the depth of their faith. That was important to her—that Alvin understand her decision to join the
community wasn't based on some spur-of-the-moment emotion. They'd talked about it when they had served as table waiters at Verna's wedding. She'd motioned toward the women with their
kinner
by their sides and commented, “I've always wanted to be a part of this—ever since I can remember anyway, when I was growing up next door to the Beiler farm.”

“I'm glad to hear that,” Alvin had responded.

Debbie had continued. “Life kind of stalled for me after college. Mom was pushing for me to get out of the house—getting ‘out of the nest,' she called it. And at my age, I agreed. So I chose to board at the Beilers.”

“I'm sure Bishop Beiler had no problem with that,” Alvin had commented.

Debbie had almost bitten her tongue to keep the words in her mouth. She wanted to tell him that if it hadn't been for Lois's ever-present desire to join the
Englisha
world and Bishop Beiler's hope that Debbie's presence might influence Lois for the better, she wouldn't have gotten in so easily.

“Bishop Beiler had his reasons,” Debbie had said instead.

“What did your
mamm
think about your move?” Alvin had asked.

Debbie grimaced. “Moving in with Bishop Beiler's family wasn't exactly what Mom intended, but it was ‘moving out of the nest,' so she didn't fuss too long.”

About that moment, Paul Wagler had sauntered across the lawn, as if he'd accidently passed by on his way to the barn. “Hi, Debbie!” he'd called—even with Alvin right there with her!

Debbie had felt her neck grow warm. Not because she cared for Paul in the least, but because this was an embarrassment. She'd given her assurance to Alvin earlier that Paul meant nothing special to her. Now here he was acting like they were old friends. And she couldn't be rude to him in public or say what she wanted to—that he leave her alone. Besides, Paul wouldn't listen anyway. At least he hadn't so far. Paul was a self-confident man who usually got what he wanted,
especially when it came to women. That she didn't return his affections drove him to try even harder.

“Ignore him,” Debbie had whispered in Alvin's direction when Paul was out of earshot. But Alvin had noticed her red face, Debbie was certain. And he'd taken a long time to compose himself. She knew that Paul was Alvin's greatest fear, even worse than his insecurity over his father's farming reputation. But Alvin had nothing to worry about when it came to Paul. Paul Wagler was like the
Englisha
boys who used to pursue her—confident, pushy, but with shallow character. She certainly didn't want Paul as her boyfriend. Ida, the second of the Beiler girls, was the one who had lost her heart to the dashing man. But that was another hopeless match. Paul returned Ida's affections about as much as Debbie returned Paul's.

“Ida likes him,” Debbie had said to Alvin that day.

A slight smile had stolen over his face. Alvin knew the impossibility of that matchup. Not that it kept Ida from hoping things would change, especially after Paul had agreed to serve as best man in Verna's wedding. That temporary match had placed Paul in Ida's company for the day.

Debbie sighed and held the steering wheel steady as she pulled into Joe and Verna's driveway. Alvin had left her under the clear impression that afternoon that he would soon ask her for a date one Sunday evening after the hymn singing. But nothing had happened. Maybe he didn't wish to date an
Englisha
girl who wasn't a church member yet? The
Ordnung-
inclined Knepp family might have such thoughts, Debbie told herself.

Would Alvin's insecurity put an end to her hopes for a romantic relationship? Would it even shake her determination to join the Amish community? Debbie had always thought it wouldn't, but with the spring baptismal instruction classes ahead of her, the question stared her in the face. If Alvin wasn't the only reason she wished to join the Amish, why didn't she go ahead and join the class? There were many reasons to do so. For one, if she began the instruction
classes this spring that would be about the time she'd graduated last year from college. Wouldn't that be a coincidence—and a fitting one at that?

Thankfully, Joe had cleared the lane of snow all the way from the road to the barn. Debbie pulled beside the barn door and parked. The soft glow of lantern light was visible through the dusty glass. Joe would be about his chores, no doubt. He'd want an early start before the winter's deep darkness set in.

Later in the evening, after supper, Joe and Verna would sit around the stove to read and spend time together. They lived their lives like the generations of the Amish faithful before them…and would do after them. These were not people tossed about by an ever-changing world. They were anchored in all that was good of the past. They embraced only what they found in the current culture that benefited their families, which was precious little. That was one of the reasons Debbie was here. She wanted this life—not the one she'd grown up in.

Debbie pushed open the car door and stepped out into the snow. True to her expectation, the front door burst open and Verna rushed out onto the porch with a shawl wrapped over her shoulders.

“Stay there!” Debbie called as she motioned with her hand. “I'm coming right in.”

Verna looked like she meant to dash across the snowy lawn to greet her, but apparently she changed her mind.

Debbie hurried up the little pathway Joe had shoveled from the barn to the house.

“Oh, Debbie!” Verna wrapped her in a tight hug. “You've come to visit me.”

“I said I'd try.” Debbie laughed. “I wasn't sure the weather would cooperate.”

“
Yah
, it's an extra-bad winter,” Verna said. “Joe struggles to keep our lane open. But it's
gut
of you to stop by.” Verna took Debbie's hand and led her inside. “I'll have hot chocolate ready for us in a
minute. I even have cinnamon rolls I made today. Will you have one?”

“No rolls.” Debbie held up her hand. “I don't want to spoil the supper I'm sure Lois will have ready at home.”

Verna glowed. “You could stay, you know. I
can
cook.”

“I'd love that.” Debbie said. “But Lois and the rest of the family are expecting me.” She followed Verna into the kitchen and sat down with a sigh. “You do have it cozy in here.”

Verna beamed. “It's comfortable. And we get to enjoy our first winter together, just Joe and me. I can't tell you how thankful I am for all you did, Debbie. You know Joe and I wouldn't be together if it hadn't been for your help.”

Debbie dismissed the praise with a wave. “There were others who helped besides me.”

Verna shook her head. “You always play down your part, Debbie. That last witness was sent from
Da Hah
, but you were there to help get it through. And your college education didn't hurt either.”

Debbie shrugged. What Verna said was true, but she didn't wish to dwell on the subject. She would help where she could, but it was small payment for all that the Beilers had done for her. They'd taken her in as a boarder even if she was
Englisha
. That wasn't exactly the accepted norm for the Amish community.

Verna poured steaming water into cups. “How are things at home? Is Lois enjoying having the bedroom to herself?”

“I think so,” Debbie allowed. “I miss sharing a room with her, but it seemed senseless to go on that way, what with your room sitting empty across the hall.”

Verna set the cup in front of Debbie. “Here's the bowl of cocoa. I'll let you add what you wish. Some days I like extra in mine.”

Debbie dipped a heaping spoonful of the chocolate into her cup. She stirred it and took the first sip. “Winter makes things both darker and more peaceful, doesn't it?”

With a pensive look, Verna sat down beside Debbie. “
Yah.
The
land rests in the winter and so does the soul. That's how
Da Hah
intended it. The world out there seems to rush through all the seasons, missing so many blessings.”

“Yes, they do, “ Debbie agreed. “Like the Christmas season we've just been through. From what I was used to, it was such a change living in the community. Though I did go home to Mom and Dad's on Christmas morning, it turned out Mom had to work that afternoon. ‘As a favor to a friend,' she said.”

“
Yah
, though life lived our way has its costs,” Verna mused. “But in the end it pays back…much more than most people can imagine. Like our quiet evenings together with the farm work finished early. It's truly a peaceful time, Debbie, with the quiet, snow-covered fields lying outside the living room window. It heals the wounds of last year—some of which I didn't even know I had.”

“You did well through all of that,” Debbie said. “I don't think I would have kept faith in Joe like you did.”

“That's just because you didn't know Joe very well,” Verna said. “The man has a heart of gold. Steady and solid like a rock. I couldn't have wished for a better man—not in a hundred years of living. Still, the situation did hurt deeply. But
Da Hah
is healing us.”

Debbie sat in silence, drinking her hot chocolate. Her earlier thoughts crept back. There was nothing she could do about Alvin's hesitation. In her
Englisha
world she had an option. There, she could ask a man out on a date, though she'd never done that. Here in the Amish world it wasn't even a dreamed-of possibility. She would have to practice patience and endurance like Verna had last year. Debbie would choose to believe that in the end Alvin would come around.

Verna tapped her arm, and Debbie glanced up to see her friend regarding her with raised eyebrows. “What were you thinking, Debbie? Your mind is somewhere else.”

“Alvin…” Debbie said. Verna was one of the few people she'd unburdened her heart to on the subject of her interest.

Verna's brow wrinkled. “He still hasn't asked you home, then?”

“No, and I'm beginning to think he won't.”

“You must keep up your faith.” Verna smiled. “Look at what Joe and I went through!”

“I know. You shame me,” Debbie said. “You were so patient, and here I go again complaining.”

Verna shook her head. “Don't look at it that way. No situations are exactly that same. I was just trying to encourage you.”

“Thanks,” Debbie whispered.

Verna face lit up. “Should I have Joe say something to Alvin? Perhaps that would help.”

“No!” Even Debbie heard the alarm in her voice. “You mustn't do that. It needs to come from Alvin…but thanks for the offer.” She quickly changed the subject, and the two chatted on for another thirty minutes before Debbie got to her feet. “Well, it's time for me to go. Supper is probably about ready.”

“You must come over more often!” Verna said, following her to the door. “I miss our talks.”

Debbie gave Verna a quick hug before she made her way down the narrow path to her car. After getting in and starting it up, Debbie turned the car around. Verna gave her a wave as she crept past.
She is a very dear friend
, Debbie thought. One she hoped she'd never lose.

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