October song Read Free Page A

of dirt off a handsome medium-sized pumpkin and loading it onto a wheelbarrow.
    Before church on Sunday, as Katie dressed for the day, she talked over Eli’s forthcoming wedding with her husband. “We can’t expect to be invited, you know.”
    Clan nodded. “You’re right about that. Still, I know this bothers you no end.”
    “Jah, ‘tis something I must bear the rest of my life.”
    “Maybe not,” Clan said, gathering her in his arms. “We’ll trust the Lord to break the
    31
    bonds of discord between our families.”
    Her darling was right, Katie knew. Still, the pain of rejection and separation plagued her night and day.
    Then, lo and behold, if several women weren’t chatting ‘bout Eli’s wedding at the meetinghouse. Seemed everyone knew ‘bout the plans the whereabouts and whatnot but Katie herself. ‘Course, some of the women weere related, one way or another, to Eli’s bride-to-be. Truth was, Katie had only met Grace Stoltzfus on one or two occasions at Sunday night singings
    a good long time ago. Scarcely did she know the girl who was to become her own sister-in-law.
    Taking her place on the left side of the church, along with the other women and children, she bowed her head in prayer. When it came time for the sermon, she thought the pastor’s text found in Luke’s gospel — was surely for her.
    No man, having put his hand to the plow, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.
    Attuning her heart to Jesus’ words, peace began to fill her mind.
    Up at daybreak, Katie sat at the kitchen table on Monday morning, drinking a hot
    32
    cup of black coffee with Clan, looking out at the fields behind their house. The thing they liked most about this house was the way the small yard seemed to mingle, at the tree line, with the neighbor’s cornfield. It gave the feeling of openness, of acres of land. She wondered if Clan ever missed farming alongside his father. Dan’s father had wanted his son to follow in his boot prints; prob’ly still mourned the fact that Clan was off drafting building blueprints, pluckin’ that evil guitar of his, and singing songs not found in theAusbund-the sixteenth-century hymnal of the Amish church.
    The sky was speckled with golden light as the sun rose over distant hills. Temperatures had surely fallen in the night; Katie could see the light frost that touched the trees and the remnants of her garden. Wouldn’t be long till the creeks and ponds froze over and winter winds brought snow. For now, far as she could tell from Dan’sFarmer’s Almanac,another month of fairly mild autumn weather was in store for them. She was glad of that, as she was busy with fall canning, going from one house to another, helping her women friends put up hundreds of quarts of produce, laying in store for the winter.
    33
    She had, just this week, reconciled herself to Dat’s rebuff, though she would abide the sting of separation from Amish loved ones. Just as her husband did. Clan, too, had not seen or conversed with his parents since the confession he’d offered at his father’s knee, having met with solemn faces. His mother had cried when he kissed her cheek, bidding farewell. “My life is in God’s hands,” he’d told them, but neither had seen eye to eye with Clan. They did not accept his newfound faith, nor his Mennonite beliefs. A person who claimed salvation was a heretic, according to the Amish church. Assurance of salvation could not be had on this earth . . not till the Judgment Day. To think or say otherwise was a display of arrogance, plain and simple. Yet his father had surprisingly accepted Dan’s handshake that day. Katie and Clan couldn’t expect much more than that, but theycouldpray for their parents’ salvation. The least they could do was in effect themosthey could do, believing in the power of prayer. So every day they joined hands, naming each of their relatives before the throne of grace.
    Katie set down her coffee cup, stirring the coffee for no apparent