The Crossroad (9 page)

Oh, she could still kick herself for not snatchin’ up the postcard right out of the young man’s hands! What on earth had kept her from it? Seeing the message, written in Pennsylvania Dutch, of all things, to that wicked Baptist girl who’d torn the community upside down, inside out. Falling in love with the very hope of the Amish church, no less. Well, if it hadn’t been for Gabe Esh gettin’ his worldly eyes on Adele Herr, who knows just how the powwow doctoring in the area might be flourishing these days. ’Twasn’t that they didn’t already have several folk healers. It was just that the community had grown, what with couples having upward of eight children or more, in some cases. Jah, they truly needed another
Brauchdokder
—powwow doctor—and with the many giftings her daughter possessed, surely someone other than herself oughta be able to persuade Rachel to accept the revered position. Surely.

At Fairview Nursing Home, Lavina sat next to Rachel in the small, yet sunshiny, room marked Rm. 147—the very room Adele Herr had called home for the past two years and some odd months. A single hospital bed flanked one wall. The patient was dressed for the visit, wearing a pale pink bed jacket around her slender shoulders. The color brought out the slightest hint of pink in her cheeks, though Lavina was sure the rosy hue had been dabbed on, prob’ly, the way most fancy folk—women—did. Adele’s eyes were just as blue as ever, and her smile was the same as it used to be.

At the far end of the room, plants hung gracefully near a window with wide blinds for its covering—no curtain. A dresser with a gilded antique oval mirror sat just beyond the bed, situated so that Adele couldn’t see herself in the mirror. And Lavina thought it was a gut idea, too—not havin’ to look at yourself if you were so awful thin and ill. Mirrors were far too revealing, ’specially at her and Adele’s age. Best just to leave them be, a cold reminder of the youth everyone must lose, sooner or later.

Jah, it was a right gut thing Rachel had brought her here today. Otherwise, she’d never have recognized the meager little woman perched amidst her bed pillows. She figured, though, the reason Adele Herr looked to be so different wasn’t necessarily age. No, she just wasn’t the selfsame girl who’d come to rent a room at Lavina’s farmhouse forty years ago. It was mighty clear to see that the disappointments of life had brought the biggest changes on Adele’s face.

Lavina had squeezed the dear woman’s hand the minute she set foot in the room, not waiting for Rachel to take the lead. “You have Rachel here to thank for this visit,” she insisted. “It was
her
idea to come and pass ’round some Christmas cheer.”

Rachel spoke up, blinking as she seemed to look around, though not seeing. “But
Lavina
was eager to bring her tart and tasty apple butter along … for you and your friends here.” Both Rachel and Lavina had brought baskets filled with mouth-watering homemade sweets.

Adele smiled, seemingly amused. “Well, what does it matter
which
of you decided? The fact that you’re both here is a blessing to me. A joyous pre-Christmas blessing. You’ll never know how pleased I am to see you again, Lavina. And you, too, Rachel.”

“Didja want us to call you Lily or Adele?” asked Rachel out of the blue.

The older woman sighed, smiling. “I understand why you might wonder about that, Rachel, but to tell you the truth, I prefer Adele. The name Lily was a crutch. I don’t have to hide behind my middle name anymore. The Lord has freed me from those insecurities. Even the nursing staff has agreed to change my name, so to speak!”

Lavina truly hoped she wasn’t staring just now, but she couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off the woman in the hospital bed. Was this really Adele Herr—Gabriel Esh’s old sweetheart? She studied the features even more closely. Could this be the selfsame young girl who’d come to Bird-in-Hand those many years ago, filling in at the schoolhouse? She’d changed more than Lavina thought such a beauty ever could. ’Course, they were each growing older, and who was
she
to be thinkin’ any such haughty thoughts, with plenty of wrinkles spreading across her own face? Enough to share with Adele
and
Rachel—both!

Combed into a short bob, Adele’s former chestnut brown hair was now snowy white, nearly silver hued. ’Least, certain ways she turned, it looked thataway.

Lavina could hardly sit still, anxious to join in the conversation. But she listened as Adele brought up Philip Bradley, the reporter from New York she’d heard

’bout from both Adele’s letters and from Susanna Zook while making applesauce a couple months back.

“I’ve been giving some thought to possibly inviting my new friend Philip for a visit,” Adele announced, her eyes shining.

“Nice thing to do,” Lavina agreed.

Rachel said nothing.

“He could come for our Christmas party,” Adele continued. “Maybe he would like to write an article on all us old folks.”

Lavina noticed the sudden flush on Rachel’s face and wondered what
that
was all about.

Adele glanced up at a bulletin board not far from the side of the bed and pointed to a slightly yellowed card. “There’s the postcard Philip found, and it’s changed everything … absolutely
everything
.” She went on to say, “Philip is such a forthright person. And, you know, he’s following the Lord again.”

“You mean he wasn’t before?” Lavina asked, feeling awkward because Rachel had hardly said a word.

“He wrote that he’d strayed from his first love, his commitment to Christ … as a boy.” Adele turned and seemed to observe Rachel, and at one point Lavina’s eyes met Adele’s. The two women shrugged, but Adele went on. “Philip’s attending a men’s Bible study twice a week, I believe he said. He’s full of questions in his letters, and more recently he’s started calling long-distance.”

Rachel spoke at last. “What sort of questions?”

“Life questions, he says,” Adele answered, catching Lavina’s eye once again. “He’s preparing himself for ministry.”

Lavina wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. “Gonna be a preacher, then?” she asked.

“Not a preacher, I don’t think. But he feels called to something—just
what
, he’s determined to find out. And from our exchange of letters, I believe it’s safe to say he’s open to God’s leading.”

Lavina found this information to be mighty interesting, but more than that, she wondered what on earth had come over Rachel. Why had she closed herself up like this? Was it something one of them had said out of turn?

She observed the beautiful blind woman, thinking back to when Rachel had first blushed crimson. Then she remembered, and the startling realization caught her truly by surprise.

Hearing Adele speak of Philip in such glowing terms had Rachel nearly beside herself. She felt her face growing warm as Adele commented on the New Yorker’s attributes. Jah, she’d also experienced Philip’s straight-forwardness, among other things. And she was ever so glad to know he’d returned to his faith in the Lord. In fact, she was a bit surprised to hear that he might’ve neglected his childhood covenant to God. But it was Adele’s mention of her possible Christmas invitation that had flustered her so. She knew it was the thought of Philip coming to visit his ailing friend—here in Reading. Why, it was only a hop, skip, and jump down to Lancaster. ’Course, that would be silly to think he’d come see her, too. He had no way of knowing how very often she thought of him, how she remembered his well-chosen words, the way he seemed so taken with Annie … and with her, too.

Lavina’s words jarred her back to the visit at hand, and she straightened in her chair, taking a deep breath. Oh, she hoped the red had gone from her cheeks, lest either woman discover her most guarded secret.

“I hafta take all the blame for what was written on Gabe’s headstone,” Lavina was saying. “Poor fella couldn’t speak for himself … but he must’ve knowed how much ya loved ’im, Adele.”

Rachel thought it right honest of Lavina, admitting her truest feelings to the woman whose heart was awful close to giving out. She, on the other hand, couldn’t begin to think of revealing
her
feelings. No, it wouldn’t be prudent for her to voice any interest in Philip. The correspondence was ongoing between Adele and him, and she could fully understand why the man had reached out to the kind and gentle woman. Ever so nurturing, Adele Herr was like a wise older relative to Philip. And Adele, in turn, had obviously found a dear friend, as well.

She was truly happy for their friendship—anything to bring a little joy to a woman who’d lost so much early on in life.

Still, Rachel wished she felt more at ease just hearing his name unexpectedly, let alone being told that he’d called Adele Herr and discussed “life questions.” Such comments made her truly long to know him better—even to
see
his face. But, of course, regainin’ her sight was a matter for the good Lord—and Him alone.

Eight

Thursday, December 16

Dear Philip,

How are you? Keeping your head above water with your many assignments, I trust? You have my prayers, as always.

It occurred to me that you might be pleased with an invitation for a visit here. I know you have family in New York, but it never hurts to ask. At any rate, we’re having a small informal get-together of sorts here on the night of Christmas. Several musicians are scheduled for the event, among them a string quartet of which I am quite fond. Another is an ensemble of singers. Sounds like fun.

Please don’t feel pressured to make the trip. I don’t know your plans, of course, and at this late date, I would probably be fooling myself to think that there might be the slightest hope of seeing you during the celebration of our Lord’s birth. If, however, you are so inclined, you are certainly welcome!

On another note, I had the nicest visit from Rachel Yoder and Lavina Troyer yesterday morning. They came bearing gifts, just as the wise men of old. I don’t know when I’ve enjoyed seeing someone as much as I did Lavina. The woman is every bit as sweet and compassionate as she was back when she took me in years ago. She was quite friendly and talkative, in her own way, and I do believe she may have begun to forgive me for being Gabe’s first romantic choice. The way she smiled so at me—speaking of such things as her reason for adding my name to Gabe’s gravestone—did warm my old heart.

Rachel Yoder, the dear, dear girl, brought a basketful of various home-baked items—sour cream chocolate cookies, sugar cookies, molasses drop cookies, date bars. Is your mouth watering? I do plan to pass the basket around at the Christmas party—yet another enticement for you to join me.

I had no idea that Rachel’s blindness was due to trauma, and she mentioned the fact quite openly, I might add. Poor child, my heart goes out to her. But the good news is that she and her cousin in Ohio are “standing on the promises of God” for her healing. So Gabe’s grandniece is believing for her sight to return. Isn’t this the most wonderful news?

Please, no matter where you spend it, you must have a very special Christmas. Know that I appreciate your friendship so much, dear friend. May the Lord bless and keep you always.

In Christ … I remain,

Adele Herr

Philip didn’t bother to read the letter a second time. Reaching for the phone, he sat at the desk in his home office and dialed the number for Fairview Nursing Home.

When one of the nurses put him through, he was met with a cheerful, strong voice. “Merry Christmas, Philip!”

“How’d you know it was me?”

She laughed softly into the phone. “No one else calls.”

“Well, it’s good to hear you’re in such fine spirits. Must be the advent of Christmas.”

“That … among other things.”

“Such as?” He was eager for a good health report.

“To begin with, my doctor is cutting back very slowly on all of my medications. My old ticker is working better than it has in years.”

“That’s terrific news!”

“Yes, and I’m able to be up and out of bed, walking the halls. I even helped one of the patients address a few Christmas cards yesterday.”

He was excited to tell her his plan. “Say, I received your letter … just now read it, and I’m taking you up on your invitation. I’m coming to your Christmas party.”

“How wonderful, Philip!”

He heard the joyful ring to her voice. “You really
are
feeling better, aren’t you?”

“For which I thank the Lord,” she replied. “God has touched my life by bringing you into it … and Rachel, as well.”

Philip thought about her remark and wondered what she’d make of it if he casually mentioned the research he had been conducting on behalf of, but unknown to, Rachel. Forging ahead, he said, “I’ve gathered some information, and it’s interesting that you mentioned it in your letter … about Rachel’s hysteria….” He paused, inhaling a bit. “Did she bring it up herself when she was there?”

“Well, let’s see … Yes, Rachel actually spoke freely of the emotional effects she’s suffered since the accident. I think she soon may be ready to face her past head on, though I have no idea what that may involve.”

“I have an idea,” Philip said, not telling her that he’d talked with several therapists on Manhattan’s east side, upon his brother-in-law’s recommendation. Philip felt he had a handle on the sort of questions a doctor might ask to permit the pain and the memories to resurface, the deeply submerged anguish of Rachel’s loss. If he could just spend some time with her, he might be able to befriend her.

“I’m glad I wrote you about the Christmas program. Meanwhile, be careful not to work such long hours,” she said, beginning to sound a bit tired. “It’s not a good thing to burn the candle at both ends.”

“It’s what I’m used to. Besides, I’m working my way down a long list of assignments. I’ll see you soon. Keep smiling.”

“You’re a wonder,” she said.

“Good-bye, Adele.”

“God is ever faithful,” she said before they hung up.

He recognized it as one of the last lines of Gabe’s postcard message to her.

Before heading out to the kitchen to heat up some leftovers, Philip opened his file drawer and located a list of characteristics he’d observed in Rachel Yoder. He’d made the list while waiting at the Lancaster Community Hospital last September for word after Rachel’s little daughter’s wasp-sting incident.

Soft-spoken, mild-mannered, devoted to Annie
were among the first qualities he’d written. Scanning the words, he recalled the beautiful young blind woman. If ever there was something he wanted to give at Christmastime, it was sight to Rachel Yoder!

Sunday night meetings were a bit unusual, but Rachel wanted to go to the preachin’ service that had been called at the Beachy Amish meetinghouse. Especially since a visiting minister was passing through. “Lavina’s picking me up,” she told Mam, adding, “Wouldja be so kind as to tuck Annie in for me?”

“Well … how late do you ’spect to be?”

“I really don’t know, but I wouldn’t think too awful late.”

Dat spoke up from the kitchen table, where he was having seconds on cake, prob’ly. “‘Course if he’s one of them hellfire preachin’ fellas, it’ll be close to ten, which is mighty late for young women to be out and about.”

Ever so protective, Dat was. Yet she loved him for it. “You mustn’t be worryin’,” she was quick to say. “Lavina’s always careful, really she is.”

“Does she know enough to avoid the Crossroad?” Mam probed.

“Jah.”

“Well, then, I ’spect you’re set,” Mam said. “Just make sure Lavina watches the speed of the horse. We got us some nasty roads out there tonight.”

Rachel nodded, wishing there was some way she could convince Dat and Mam both not to fret over her so awful much. “God’s lookin’ out for us,” she offered, hoping that would suffice. She found her cane and shuffled out of the kitchen.

Ever so eager for more of God’s Word, Rachel sat with Lavina near the front of the meetinghouse, on the side with the women. She felt that her spirit might soar, might need to be brought back down to her body, hearing the things the minister was teaching. Spiritual defense—how to put on the armor of God, as found in Ephesians 6, and how to enter into God’s protection—something she wished she’d known and understood long before the accident that took Jacob’s and young Aaron’s lives. Oh, if only her heart had searched for God’s provisions back then. So much might’ve been different had she known to commit herself to the rock of ages, the mighty fortress, and her shelter in time of trouble.

All the way back to Beechdale Road she chattered to Lavina. “I believe the Lord’s gonna let me see again,” she declared.

“Well, God bless ya, Rachel.”

“Oh, He has … He already has.”

Lavina was quiet again, while Rachel babbled on. She reached her hand out of the buggy, hoping to catch a few flakes. That’s when Lavina made the remark that a certain widower “was at service tonight.”

“Who wouldja be talkin’ about?”

“John Lapp from Paradise Township. Ya heard o’ him?”

“No, and I don’t much care,” she replied, guarding her words.

“Well, just so ya know, he was lookin’ you over real careful-like.”

“How’d he know who I was?”

“S’pose the word’s got out, Rachel.”

“What on earth does
that
mean?”

“You put away your mournin’ clothes, now didn’tcha?”

“Doesn’t mean I’m lookin’ to remarry, though. Just ready to move ahead with my life some.”

“You’re awful young to be deciding such a thing … ’bout not remarryin’. Maybe you should be praying ’bout that.”

“What would this John Lapp want with a blind woman?” she asked, wondering aloud.

“Now, Rachel, you oughta know better’n to say such a thing. You’d make any man a fine wife.”

Rachel felt terribly uneasy. What was all this talk going on behind her back? She didn’t want to know, not really. Still it was unnerving, hearing that someone was looking her over in terms of marryin’ potential. She wasn’t a sixteen-year-old
Maedel
—maiden—anymore. The whole idea of being eyed that way … ach, it just didn’t set well. “You don’t s’pose he’ll come callin’, do you?”

Lavina was slower to respond than usual. “I … would hafta say that’s what he already done … tonight in church, so to speak.”

She didn’t quite know what to say to that. “He came to church to look at a woman? Why, that sounds downright sacrilegious, if you ask me.”

“Maybe so.”

“Well, it
is
,” Rachel insisted, marveling at her own courage to speak her mind. And feelin’ the better for it.

’Twasn’t all that late when Rachel came in the front door. Even still, Mam was waiting up. “Glad to see ya home in one piece.”

She accepted Mam’s hug and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Honestly, I don’t know when I’ve learned so much,” she managed to say, trying not to think about the audacity of widower Lapp.

“How was the meetin’?” Mam asked, the weight of the question hanging in the air.

“Can I tell you in the mornin’?” Rachel asked, feeling her way to the stairs. “All’s I know is I’m ever so heart-hungry for the things of God.”

“Speaking of which, I forgot to give you a tape mailer. It came today.”

“From Esther, prob’ly.”

“Well, no, I believe it’s from some reverend out in Ohio somewheres.”

Rachel was overjoyed to hear it! Esther’s pastor had sent along yet another sermon. She thought about staying up till midnight to listen to it. Jah, she just might do that. It would certainly be worth the weariness come morning.