Plain Again by Sarah Price Page A

to the room, taking their seats in the front row of the men’s side, that was the signal to stop singing the hymn at the next stanza.
    It hadn’t surprised Amanda to see the bishop stand and, for a few brief moments, pace the floor before his congregation. What did surprise her was his sermon.
    “What does it take to be a disciple of Jesus?” he started in a loud, booming voice. “Is it praising his name? Is it turning the other cheek? It is speaking no evil? Or is it living a life that mirrors the words of the Bible? ‘Whoever wants to be my disciple,’ the Ausbund says, ‘he must forsake the world, in his heart also become pure and hate his own life.’ ” The bishop stopped pacing and stood straight before the congregation. “We are a people who forsake worldliness because we want to be disciples of Jesus and follow his teachings. We choose being God’s children over earthly treasures!”
    Inwardly, Amanda had groaned, knowing full well that the sermon was directed, in part, toward her. After all, not only had she chosen to join the world, rather than forsake it, her very presence back in the community had brought the intrusion of the world with her. She tried to tune out the rest of his sermon, knowing that her cheeks were blazing red, the humiliation of his words too much for her to bear.
    And then had come the fellowship hour.
    The men had immediately converted the large worship room into a dining hall, creating long rows of tables by using trestles to slide onto the legs of the church benches. The younger boys had collected the Ausbund hymnals and neatly stacked them in wooden crates. Meanwhile, the women were dishing out the food, all of it having been prepared prior to the service so that the only true work was serving it to the church members. Still, plates and utensils had to be set out, cups had to be filled with water, and the platters of food needed to be placed on the tabletops.
    When she had tried to help the women, they had simply responded by ignoring her. After all, Amanda rationalized, guests did not help serve food or clean up. Their silence and lack of accepting her help was a clear indication that they no longer considered her part of the community. She had chosen to not take the kneeling vow and had opted to marry outside of the faith. In return, they chose to keep her at arm’s length in order to remain pure by forsaking the outside world, a world that Amanda was clearly a part of as a result of her own free will.
    As if that was not bad enough, during the first seating Amanda had been forced to sit and eat with the older women and very young mothers who needed to feed small children. During the meal, no one had spoken to her, blatantly ignoring Amanda, although she had been somewhat pleased to see that her mamm had engaged in plenty of conversation.
    The time to leave had not come fast enough for Amanda. She hadn’t even cared that the photographers had snapped photos of her, using their intrusive telescopic lenses, when she had climbed into the buggy.
    Driving down the lane toward her parents’ farm had never felt so good before in all her life.
    It had been not even fifteen minutes after they had returned when the cell phone rang. Having just come inside from unharnessing the horse, Amanda was at the kitchen sink, washing her hands, while her mamm sat in the rocking chair next to Daed. The room was silent except for the gentle ticking of the clock that hung on the wall. But the ringing of the cell phone caught the attention of everyone.
    She had left it on the table and hurried over to get it, pausing for just a moment to wipe her hands on a dry hand towel. Only one person ever called her on the phone, and she felt embarrassed that she had to answer the call in front of her parents. Still, since she hadn’t heard from Alejandro in a few days, she quickly grabbed the phone and answered it, moving away from the table and heading toward the door.
    She placed the small device to her ear