The Amish Midwife. Patricia Davids
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of such a thing, but the doubts wouldn’t be silenced.
As always, his goats were happy to see him and frolicked in their pens as he approached. In spite of what Anne thought, his goats were all as tame as kittens. They came when he called them, with Matilda, the oldest female, leading all the others in a group behind her. He selected Jenny from the milling animals and opened the gate leading to his milking barn.
“Jenny, up you go.”
The brown-and-black doe knew the routine. She trotted up the ramp onto the waist-high platform and put her head in the stanchion. He gave her a handful of alfalfa hay and closed the bar that would keep her from pulling her head out if she was finished eating before he was finished milking her. He didn’t bother hooking her to his milking machine. His church allowed the limited use of electricity in some Amish businesses such as Joseph’s dairy. The electric milking machines and refrigeration allowed him to sell his milk as Grade A to Englisch customers for more money. Today he milked Jenny by hand. In less than five minutes, he had a frothing pailful of milk.
After giving Jenny a quick scratch behind the ear to let her know he was pleased, he opened the head lock and allowed her to rejoin the herd. Holding the pail high, he waded through the group of younger goats vying for his attention and went out the gate before making sure it was latched securely. They bleated until he was out of sight.
The sound of a car on the road caught his attention. He looked hopefully toward the end of his lane, but it was only the mailman. The white truck stopped at Joseph’s box.
Maybe there would be a letter from his sister explaining everything. He put down the pail and strode toward his mailbox at the end of the drive. He refused to think about how many times he’d made this trip praying to find a missive from her in the past. She didn’t have a baby then. She had to be concerned about her child.
The mail carrier drove away before Joseph reached him, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t in the mood to visit with the talkative fellow. Opening his mailbox, Joseph pulled out a bundle of envelopes and flyers. Leafing through them, he found they were advertisements and junk mail until he reached the final envelope.
Immediately, he recognized his sister’s handwriting, although he hadn’t seen it in years. The letter was addressed to Joe Lapp. For some reason, she insisted on calling him Joe, when no one else did. Relieved, he tore open the letter and asked God’s forgiveness for doubting his sister. As he read, his relief turned to disbelief.
* * *
When Joseph entered Anne’s kitchen, he presented the pail of milk to her without a word. He had a strange dejected look on his face. Had one of his beloved goats kicked him? Knowing how much he’d been through, she decided not to tease him about it.
She gave him the baby to hold and took the pail to her stove. Their Amish church allowed members to use propane-powered appliances in the home. Her hot-water heater, refrigerator, washer, stove and some of her lighting all ran off propane.
Anne transferred the milk to a large kettle. “It will take a while to heat this through. She got fussy when you left, so I gave her some more electrolyte solution. I can bring the formula to your house when I’m finished.”
Anne glanced at him. He held Leah close, gazing intently at her face. He rubbed his eye with the back of his hand and sniffed.
“Is something wrong, Joseph?”
“Nay.”
She could see that wasn’t true, but she didn’t press him. She glanced covertly at him as she went back to measuring and mixing ingredients together. She referred frequently to a paper on the counter beside her. Her mother had come up with a goat’s milk formula years earlier after consulting with a local doctor. Anne was grateful for her mother’s thorough record keeping. She added molasses to a glass measuring cup that held a small amount of coconut oil. It didn’t look appetizing. “Have you had breakfast, Joseph?”
He cleared his throat. “I’m fine. You go ahead.”
She looked his way and noticed he was staring at her concoction. She grinned. “This isn’t breakfast, but I could make you some eggs. There is still some coffee in the pot, too.”
“Just the coffe sounds good. What is it that you’re making?”
“Formula.”
“I thought you were going to give her the goat’s milk.”
“I am. Goat’s milk is perfect for baby goats, but it is lacking some things that a human baby needs. I don’t have all the ingredients here, but if she tolerates this milk, I can give you a list of things you’ll have to buy.”
“Like what?”
“Liquid whey. Molasses or Grade B maple syrup. Cod liver oil and extra-virgin olive oil plus coconut oil and liquid vitamins. There are a few other things, as well.”
His frown deepened. “How often will I have to do all this?”
“Every other day at least. The milk needs to be fresh, but it can be kept refrigerated for two days. What I’m making now will last through today unless Leah can’t tolerate it. You said Fannie would be back today, didn’t you? Send her over when she comes to pick up the baby, and I’ll show her how it’s made.”
“You had best show me how to do it. I’ll be the one taking care of her from now on.”
Confused, Anne turned to him. “What about her mudder? Isn’t she coming? What’s happened?”
The anguish on Joseph’s face told Anne something was very wrong. She watched him struggle to compose himself. What had happened to his sister?
He sank onto one of her chairs and gazed at the baby for a long time. Finally, he whispered, “Your mudder is not coming.”
“She’s not coming today?” Anne waited for him to elaborate.
He shook his head. “She’s not coming back at all.”
Anne cupped a hand over her mouth as a horrible thought occurred to her. “She died?”
“Nay, but that would be easier to explain.”
“Please, Joseph, tell me what has happened.”
“Fannie lied to me.”
Anne took a seat beside him. “In what way did she lie?”
“When she left Leah with me, she said it would only be for a day or two. She deliberately lied to me.”
“I don’t understand.”
He pulled a letter from his coat pocket. “This came in the mail this morning. It’s from Fannie. I was happy when I saw it. I thought it would explain why she was late returning. Instead, she wrote that she didn’t have surgery. That was a lie she made up to get me to keep Leah. Fannie was going to New York City with Johnny. She said her baby was better off growing up in the country rather than in the city.”
“Oh, Joseph, I’m so sorry.” It was clear he was hurting and she didn’t know how to help.
He looked at her, his eyes filled with confusion and pain. “What kind of mother would do that? I tried to raise my sister to be a God-fearing woman of faith, but I failed. I don’t know what I did wrong. I knew my duty. I kept us fed and together with a roof over our heads. I dried her tears. I took her to church. I made sure she said her prayers. Then she does this, and I think I never knew her at all.”
He put the letter away and adjusted the blanket so it wasn’t covering Leah’s mouth. “Why couldn’t she be happy among us? Is this life so terrible?”
Anne laid a hand on his arm. “We can’t know what is in another person’s mind or the reasons why they behave as they do, unless