Made with Love Read Free Page B

are watered well. The only problem is that I’m already tired of canning tomatoes, and there is no end in sight.
    We had church at our house on Sunday and every room overflowed. There is talk of splitting our district again. Us ladies were laughing that the newly marrieds would take us past our threshold by next spring. Six of the young women are new mothers, all in the last month!
    Joe’s Verna was here asking on Mose. I could see the pain in her eyes at her worries of him. I never understood the parable of the Good Shepherd leaving the ninety-nine to go after the one until afterI became a mother. Verna has a dozen children yet to tend after, but I’m sure she’d catch a bus to Pinecraft if it was season already. I assured her that if anyone knew how to handle wayward boys it would be you.
    Speaking of such things, the lady from Amish Gifts and Crafts asked me to give you this photo. She planted flowers in the window boxes and was right pleased with them. It was a nice touch.
    I’ll stop there before I think too much on matters past. What’s done is done. What’s gone is gone. It seems to me that what one learns can be used to help others, as you are doing. And although the heartache does not ever completely go away, I’m thankful that it eases with time.
    But enough of that. I hoped for this note to be a cheery message, not a sad one. Write when you can and let us know if all is well with you and the boys. I must get the food out for our sewing frolic. I made skillet pear ginger pie since it’s Nancy’s birthday and it’s her favorite. I will close now to get this into the mailbox before the driver comes.
    Love,
    Mem
    Noah folded up the note and put it back into the envelope. He let out a heavy sigh. He didn’t know what bothered him more—that whenever people looked at the gift shop, no matter how beautiful it looked now, they’d always think of him and the destruction his foolish choices had caused. Or the fact that they trusted he’d be able to help these teens. Who had he fooled more, them or himself?
    He approached the house, and he heard their laughter. Nearly every morning they were playing one prank or another on each other. Yesterday Gerald had got the other two by taking their old milk carton and filling it with water mixed with white paint. Atlee hadn’t noticed until he’d filled a glass and taken a long drink. Then—to make things worse—he spewed it all over the livingroom area rug. They’d tried to clean it up, but some of the white smudges remained.
    He’d thought he’d be able to help the guys, change them too. He’d imagined they’d find work, find a purpose, and find God. How foolish had he been.
    Noah ran his fingers through his hair and then removed the check from the envelope, tucking it into the pocket of his work shirt. He folded the envelope with the letter and picture until it was so small and thick that he couldn’t fold it any more. Then he placed his hand on the doorknob. In the back of his mind he’d told himself that even more than the work he’d done on the Amish gift shop, his work here in Pinecraft would redeem the past. Now it was clear that it wasn’t going to happen. Was God even listening to his prayers? Or had his deeds from the past put up a dividing wall that he’d never be able to scale?
    Then he opened the door and took a deep breath. Laughter rose from the guys inside, but instead of bringing joy it caused him to cringe. They were most likely playing another prank, and his efforts hadn’t seemed to matter. The young men seemed no closer to considering their faith and being willing to change their ways.
    Noah threw the wad of envelope into the trash, and then he moved to the kitchen, placed his hands on the counter, and leaned forward, closing his eyes. He’d gotten himself into this mess. Now Noah needed to figure out what to do next. Whatever it was, it would