The Crossroad Read Free Page A

over to pick up Rachel and Annie for church, Rachel had begun to understand the woman more—what made her tick and all. Jah, Lavina’s faith had nothin’ whatever to do with her being slow. After all, the Good Book said, “Except ye … become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.” So folks could flap their jaws all they wanted ’bout Lavina being backward, but when it came down to it, the gray-headed woman was the most accepting, kindest person Rachel knew. More so than her own mother, though Rachel assumed Susanna Zook was more peeved than uncaring these days.
    “If’n ya ain’t comfortable tellin’ me, well … it’s all right,” Lavina said, speaking more softly now.
    “That’s kind of you.” Rachel breathed in the frosty air, sure that Lavina would never tell a soul. Not if Rachel asked her to keep it under her bonnet, so to speak. She forged ahead, taking a deep breath. “I’ve been praying about seein’ again … that the Lord might bless me with my sight.”
    Lavina said nary a word.
    “I’ve been using Scripture tapes to memorize Bible verses ’bout divine healing, till it sinks in deep.”
    “Hate to think what some are sayin’ ’bout your blindness, Rachel. Mighty distressing, ’tis.”
    Rachel knew. Even her own kinfolk figured she was as daft as Lavina was empty-headed. “But I truly want to see again,” she said with boldness. “And in God’s time, I believe I will.”
    She felt comfortable revealing this to Lavina, ever so glad the woman wouldn’t be gasping or boring a shameless hole in her. Jah, it was right gut to express her desire because a strong and nagging feeling reminded her that the path to recovery might be a long, difficult row to hoe.
    “I’ll be prayin’” was all Lavina said as the horse pulled them forward toward the intersection of Beechdale Road and Route 340.
    Rachel felt her muscles relax now that she’d shared one of her deepest longings with a sister in the Lord. Her other secret desire must remain veiled, shrouded in silence forever.

    Several batches of whoopie pies were ready to be stacked in the freezer by close to midmorning. All the while, Rachel continued to talk to Lavina, though mostly a one-sided conversation, it was. “What wouldja think of goin’ to visit Adele Herr?” she asked.
    Lavina was slow to reply. “Are ya sure … you wanna go to … to Reading?”
    “I thought we could hire a Mennonite driver. Make a morning of it.”
    “An awful long ways,” Lavina said. “I … I just don’t know.”
    “We don’t hafta decide this minute, do we?” Rachel chuckled softly, a bit surprised at her own resolve. “Let’s think on it. If the Lord sees fit for us to go, we can take some goodies along. Maybe a basketful to share with the rest of the nursing home folk. Spread ’round some Christmas cheer.”
    Again Lavina remained quiet for the longest time, and while Rachel washed up, she wondered if she might’ve pushed too hard. Maybe she’d best back off the subject of visiting her great-uncle’s former English fiancée. Maybe it had been too long for Lavina since the pain of those past days, the wounds too well healed to risk scraping open again.
    Rachel set about humming awhile, drying her hands and praying that the Lord might give her wisdom to know how to ease the fear in the poor dear, though she couldn’t say for sure that she herself wouldn’t be right bashful about traipsing off to parts unknown, really and truly.
    “Adele always did like my apple butter,” Lavina said at last.
    Shuffling her feet and using her cane, Rachel felt her way across the linoleum floor of the large kitchen. She knew its setup—where the table and benches were positioned; the wood stove, sink, counter space, and batterypowered refrigerator, too—as well as she knew the kitchen at home. Long about now the sun should be pouring in real strong through the east windows, near the long trestle table. Sure enough, as she