Jenny's Choice (Apple Creek Dreams #3) by Patrick E. Craig Page B
Authors: Patrick E. Craig
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brilliant—a real enigma. But it needs more details. And I want the whole story, not just the beginning and the end.”
“You don’t understand, Jeremy. This is a very difficult area for my papa. He’s an Amish man who still battles with a deep sense of shame for going against the tenets of his faith. He’s also a human being who was dropped into the middle of one of the most horrific battles of World War II. You don’t have to be Amish to have nightmares about an experience like that.”
“I understand, Jenny, but we’re talking about a book that needs to hold a reader’s attention all the way through. I don’t want people who buy this book writing me letters asking what really happened.”
Jenny sat silent for a moment. Then, choosing her words carefully, she spoke. “It’s not just about my daed , Jeremy; it’s about me too.”
“How so—or am I being too personal?”
“You are being personal, but for now I’ll let it pass and tell you what I’m feeling. My papa said he would tell me the story of his experiences in the war, but I could tell by the way he said it that he doesn’t really want to. And then I thought about what it would be like to try writing about Jonathan. I’ve written about his smile, his singing…I’ve even recorded my memories of being with him and the things he taught me. But to go through our whole story step-by-step and write it down…I don’t know if I could do that—at least not now. The other night I thought about what it would be like to write that book, and it almost made me hysterical with grief. No, I couldn’t tell that story.”
“I understand. But how does that relate to your father?”
Jeremy looked frustrated, so Jenny tried to explain herself.
“If it is so painful for me to write about the terrible things that havehappened to me, then it must be the same for him. And I don’t know if that’s something I want to ask of him.”
Jeremy took a sip of his coffee. “Now can I tell you how I see it?”
Jenny felt an uncomfortable stirring in her heart. “All right, but be careful.”
“Jenny, I believe that good writing helps people to access memories and emotions that may have been buried for years—some of them good, some of them bad. If someone reads what I’ve written and says, ‘I remember feeling exactly that way’ about something positive in their life, I’m doing my job. It’s the same with the bad memories. Sometimes when something terrible happens to us, we take that memory and build a wall around it. But that doesn’t make it go away. Instead, it festers in the dark and can poison our lives. As Christian writers, it’s our job to help people bring those dark and terrible events into the light of Christ so we can see the truth about them and be set free. That’s why I think it would be good for your father to tell his whole story.”
“Jeremy, I understand what you’re saying, but do you really know the Amish mind? We don’t think like that. I thought you knew that. You know, you haven’t really told me about your faith. You know I’m Amish, and so it’s pretty plain where I stand, but what about you?”
Jeremy smiled at her question. “I’ll tell you about that when we finish talking about this.”
“But—”
Jeremy pressed on. “So for your father, it’s my guess that if he can set this experience down on paper and get it out of the place he has held it for so many years, it will be extremely liberating. And I would say the same about you.”
A great crushing weight began to press down on Jenny. “I don’t think I want to go where you’re taking this, Jeremy. I’m not ready.”
“Look, Jenny, it’s been a year and a half since your husband died. I think it’s time you started to think about moving on with—”
Suddenly Jenny was standing, her chair knocked over by the abruptness of her movement. “What do you know about it, Jeremy? How can you tell me how I should feel?”
Jeremy sat in stunned
“You don’t understand, Jeremy. This is a very difficult area for my papa. He’s an Amish man who still battles with a deep sense of shame for going against the tenets of his faith. He’s also a human being who was dropped into the middle of one of the most horrific battles of World War II. You don’t have to be Amish to have nightmares about an experience like that.”
“I understand, Jenny, but we’re talking about a book that needs to hold a reader’s attention all the way through. I don’t want people who buy this book writing me letters asking what really happened.”
Jenny sat silent for a moment. Then, choosing her words carefully, she spoke. “It’s not just about my daed , Jeremy; it’s about me too.”
“How so—or am I being too personal?”
“You are being personal, but for now I’ll let it pass and tell you what I’m feeling. My papa said he would tell me the story of his experiences in the war, but I could tell by the way he said it that he doesn’t really want to. And then I thought about what it would be like to try writing about Jonathan. I’ve written about his smile, his singing…I’ve even recorded my memories of being with him and the things he taught me. But to go through our whole story step-by-step and write it down…I don’t know if I could do that—at least not now. The other night I thought about what it would be like to write that book, and it almost made me hysterical with grief. No, I couldn’t tell that story.”
“I understand. But how does that relate to your father?”
Jeremy looked frustrated, so Jenny tried to explain herself.
“If it is so painful for me to write about the terrible things that havehappened to me, then it must be the same for him. And I don’t know if that’s something I want to ask of him.”
Jeremy took a sip of his coffee. “Now can I tell you how I see it?”
Jenny felt an uncomfortable stirring in her heart. “All right, but be careful.”
“Jenny, I believe that good writing helps people to access memories and emotions that may have been buried for years—some of them good, some of them bad. If someone reads what I’ve written and says, ‘I remember feeling exactly that way’ about something positive in their life, I’m doing my job. It’s the same with the bad memories. Sometimes when something terrible happens to us, we take that memory and build a wall around it. But that doesn’t make it go away. Instead, it festers in the dark and can poison our lives. As Christian writers, it’s our job to help people bring those dark and terrible events into the light of Christ so we can see the truth about them and be set free. That’s why I think it would be good for your father to tell his whole story.”
“Jeremy, I understand what you’re saying, but do you really know the Amish mind? We don’t think like that. I thought you knew that. You know, you haven’t really told me about your faith. You know I’m Amish, and so it’s pretty plain where I stand, but what about you?”
Jeremy smiled at her question. “I’ll tell you about that when we finish talking about this.”
“But—”
Jeremy pressed on. “So for your father, it’s my guess that if he can set this experience down on paper and get it out of the place he has held it for so many years, it will be extremely liberating. And I would say the same about you.”
A great crushing weight began to press down on Jenny. “I don’t think I want to go where you’re taking this, Jeremy. I’m not ready.”
“Look, Jenny, it’s been a year and a half since your husband died. I think it’s time you started to think about moving on with—”
Suddenly Jenny was standing, her chair knocked over by the abruptness of her movement. “What do you know about it, Jeremy? How can you tell me how I should feel?”
Jeremy sat in stunned
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