Seeing Your Face Again by Jerry S. Eicher Page B

Dear Lord, be my fortress and strong tower right now. And be with Alvin wherever he is in Philadelphia. Comfort his heart and show him that I do love him. Lead him back home again. And talk to Lois. Help her see the sorrow she’s about to bring to her parents’ hearts. Show her how unwise this choice really is.”
    Bishop Beiler finished the Scripture reading and closed his Bible. “Let’s pray,” he said. He knelt beside his rocker without further words. He lifted his head toward the heavens and spoke. “Now unto you, O Lord, all merciful and compassionate Father. Look down upon us tonight and remember us, your frail and broken creation. Of all the things Your hands have made, we are the ones who bring You the most grief and sorrow. We ask that You forgive us our sins and remember our iniquities no more, just as we likewise do for those who trespass against us.”
    Lois sobbed, and her daett paused. When no more sounds followed, he continued, “Remember our community tonight, O Lord, and the trouble we have amongst us…”
    Debbie listened to Bishop Beiler’s voice. This was what she wanted for herself someday. A home of her own with a man who had spiritual depth and strength. If she needed any confirmation as to who that man could be, she received it this very moment. She couldn’t imagine Paul Wagler, the jokester, at prayer like this. Perhaps he would learn to do so in time, as all Amish men she’d met seemed to eventually, but she didn’t want to take the chance. Alvin praying like this? That didn’t take much imagination at all. Even though she’d never heard him pray out loud, she was certain he prayed from his heart. “Lord, please don’t take this away from me,” Debbie pled quietly.

Ten

    L ater that week, on Saturday morning, the breakfast dishes had been cleared away and the house was quiet. The winter weather had cleared, and sunshine made the snow glisten through the kitchen window. In Debbie’s mind it was the calm before the storm—at least inside the house.
    â€œNext week the gut weather will hold,” Bishop Beiler had declared at the breakfast table. “There might even be a warm spell coming our way.”
    â€œWinter’s far from over though,” Saloma reminded him, as if one needed such a qualifier with the deep drifts that still lay along the road.
    To Debbie, Saloma’s words had double meaning that spelled trouble for her.
    Lois had remained silent all week about her plans to move out, which was unlike her. She usually readily spoke up when she had something to say or big plans.
    Debbie hoped Lois had changed her mind.
    As if Lois knew what Debbie was thinking, she appeared inthe kitchen doorway. “Debbie, may I speak with you in private? Outside?”
    Saloma gave them both a worried look as Debbie followed Lois through the washroom door and outside.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” Debbie asked once they were out of earshot.
    â€œI need you to tell Mamm and Daett what’s going to happen today.”
    â€œToday?” Debbie asked. “You’re doing this today? And without having informed your mom and dad?”
    â€œI’m not going to wait any longer, Debbie. I’ve lived this life for twenty-two years. I’m absolutely suffocating. The longer I put it off, the worse it will be. Today is the day.”
    â€œWell, don’t count on me to tell your parents.” Debbie allowed disappointment to sound in her voice. “I was hoping you’d forgotten about your harebrained idea.”
    â€œMy suitcase is packed and under my bed,” Lois said, her voice firm. “That’s all I need. I’ll be getting new clothes anyway.”
    The girl had thought things through, which explained her silence all week. What Debbie had feared was actually going to happen…and today. But Lois would have to tell her parents her news. Debbie knew she’d get enough