The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club by Wanda E. Brunstetter Page A
Authors: Wanda E. Brunstetter
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concentrate on learning if he didn’t have the baby to care for.
“Sorry I’m late,” Paul said. “We were almost ready to go out the door when Sophia made a mess in her diaper. Of course, in all fairness to Maria, I had to change the baby before I dropped her off. Never thought there’d be so many messes to clean up with a baby in the house.” He shook his head. “And none of those messes are fun.”
“I’ve always figured that God gives us children to make us humble,” Emma said with a chuckle. “I can’t count all the times one of my children made a mess on either their clothes or mine, and it was usually on a Sunday morning when we were almost ready to leave for church.”
“Where’s your church located?” Paul asked.
“Oh, we don’t worship in a church building the way Englishers do,” Emma said. “We hold our services every other week, and the members in our district take turns hosting church in their home, barn, or shop.”
“You have church in a barn?” Star asked.
Emma nodded. “Sometimes, if that’s the biggest building available and we know a lot of people will be attending.”
Stuart snickered and plugged his nose. “I imagine that must smell pretty raunchy with all those dirty animals in there. Do the horses’ neighs and the cows’ moos accompany your singing?” he asked with a smirk.
Pam’s elbow connected with her husband’s ribs, causing him to jump. “Stuart, don’t be so rude! I’m sure there are no animals in the barn when the Amish hold their worship services.”
“That’s right,” Emma agreed. “If we do choose to hold a service in one of our barns, the animals are taken out and everything is cleaned before the wooden benches are brought in.”
Ruby Lee quirked an eyebrow. “You mean you sit on wooden benches, not padded chairs?”
“Yes. We have backless benches that are transported from home to home in one of our bench wagons whenever we have a church service, wedding, or funeral.”
Tiny lines formed across Pam’s forehead when she frowned. “I can’t imagine sitting in church for a whole hour on a backless wooden bench.”
“Actually, our services last more than an hour,” Emma said. “They usually go for three hours, and sometimes longer if we’re having communion or some other special service.”
“Three whole hours?” Stuart groaned. “I could never sit that long on a wooden bench with no back.”
“You sit that long on the bleachers when you go to some stupid sporting event,” Pam said, her elbow connecting with Stuart’s ribs once more.
Not only must the poor man’s ribs hurt after all that jabbing, Emma thought, but he’s probably embarrassed by his wife’s behavior. Should I say something or just ignore it?
“Sitting on bleachers can’t be compared to wooden benches.” Stuart stood and moved his chair away from Pam. “When I’m watching a game, I jump up and down a lot. Besides, there’s more to see at a baseball or football game than there would be in a barn.” He shook his head slowly. “Sure am glad I’m not Amish.”
“Stuart!” Pam’s cheeks turned bright pink; she looked absolutely mortified.
Emma wanted to say something right then, but for the life of her, she couldn’t think what. She noticed how uncomfortable the others looked, too, as they squirmed in their chairs.
“Say, why don’t you just keep your opinions to yourself?” Jan spoke up. “The Amish have their way of doin’ things, and we Englishers have ours. And who says anyone has to have cushy padded pews in order to worship God?”
“What would you know about it?” Stuart shot back. “When was the last time you stepped foot in a church?”
Jan leaned forward and leveled Stuart with a look that prickled the hair on the back of Emma’s neck. “I might ask you the same question, buddy. So you wanna make somethin’ of it?”
Oh no, not more
“Sorry I’m late,” Paul said. “We were almost ready to go out the door when Sophia made a mess in her diaper. Of course, in all fairness to Maria, I had to change the baby before I dropped her off. Never thought there’d be so many messes to clean up with a baby in the house.” He shook his head. “And none of those messes are fun.”
“I’ve always figured that God gives us children to make us humble,” Emma said with a chuckle. “I can’t count all the times one of my children made a mess on either their clothes or mine, and it was usually on a Sunday morning when we were almost ready to leave for church.”
“Where’s your church located?” Paul asked.
“Oh, we don’t worship in a church building the way Englishers do,” Emma said. “We hold our services every other week, and the members in our district take turns hosting church in their home, barn, or shop.”
“You have church in a barn?” Star asked.
Emma nodded. “Sometimes, if that’s the biggest building available and we know a lot of people will be attending.”
Stuart snickered and plugged his nose. “I imagine that must smell pretty raunchy with all those dirty animals in there. Do the horses’ neighs and the cows’ moos accompany your singing?” he asked with a smirk.
Pam’s elbow connected with her husband’s ribs, causing him to jump. “Stuart, don’t be so rude! I’m sure there are no animals in the barn when the Amish hold their worship services.”
“That’s right,” Emma agreed. “If we do choose to hold a service in one of our barns, the animals are taken out and everything is cleaned before the wooden benches are brought in.”
Ruby Lee quirked an eyebrow. “You mean you sit on wooden benches, not padded chairs?”
“Yes. We have backless benches that are transported from home to home in one of our bench wagons whenever we have a church service, wedding, or funeral.”
Tiny lines formed across Pam’s forehead when she frowned. “I can’t imagine sitting in church for a whole hour on a backless wooden bench.”
“Actually, our services last more than an hour,” Emma said. “They usually go for three hours, and sometimes longer if we’re having communion or some other special service.”
“Three whole hours?” Stuart groaned. “I could never sit that long on a wooden bench with no back.”
“You sit that long on the bleachers when you go to some stupid sporting event,” Pam said, her elbow connecting with Stuart’s ribs once more.
Not only must the poor man’s ribs hurt after all that jabbing, Emma thought, but he’s probably embarrassed by his wife’s behavior. Should I say something or just ignore it?
“Sitting on bleachers can’t be compared to wooden benches.” Stuart stood and moved his chair away from Pam. “When I’m watching a game, I jump up and down a lot. Besides, there’s more to see at a baseball or football game than there would be in a barn.” He shook his head slowly. “Sure am glad I’m not Amish.”
“Stuart!” Pam’s cheeks turned bright pink; she looked absolutely mortified.
Emma wanted to say something right then, but for the life of her, she couldn’t think what. She noticed how uncomfortable the others looked, too, as they squirmed in their chairs.
“Say, why don’t you just keep your opinions to yourself?” Jan spoke up. “The Amish have their way of doin’ things, and we Englishers have ours. And who says anyone has to have cushy padded pews in order to worship God?”
“What would you know about it?” Stuart shot back. “When was the last time you stepped foot in a church?”
Jan leaned forward and leveled Stuart with a look that prickled the hair on the back of Emma’s neck. “I might ask you the same question, buddy. So you wanna make somethin’ of it?”
Oh no, not more
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