Work of Our Hands

Last week I went to a women's association mission event at my church, where we learned about the work of Root International, a Christian organization that sends help wherever and whenever it's needed, although it has continuing operations with children's schools with Native Americans and in Mexico. It proved to be an especially meaningful event, because our town was a direct beneficiary of their work in September, when massive flooding hit our area. It was amazing to see that big trailer from Root International pull up in town, jammed full with mattresses and food and equipment to help with the losses right here.

Part of our program was to make small teddy bears to send with Root to children in need of a bit of comfort as well as more material help. For us, with the memory of our own disaster still fresh in our minds, doing so was particularly poignant. But as we sat around tables stuffing bears and sewing seams while we talked and laughed together, I was also reminded of the role handwork plays in women's lives. For generations, women have used the work of their hands not only to create necessary things for their families and others, but also to express their artistry and creative urges.

I don't have to go any farther than my cedar chest to see that expression of love and artistry. Looking at the Double Wedding Ring quilt created from postage-stamp-size patches by a Depression-era great-aunt or the Autumn Leaf quilt my mother made for me or the dresser scarves embroidered by my grandmother, I am reminded again of how precious the work of our hands can be. Each item seems to come with a memory attached, carrying love from previous generations. I've tried to express that appreciation often in my books, especially in my Amish stories. In Katie's Way, my latest book, I was able to express those feelings in the characters, both Englisch and Amish, who gather at Katie's quilt shop to work together, sharing their lives as they quilt.

So when I make doll clothes with one granddaughter and Christmas ornaments with another, I hope I'm doing my part to carry on that tradition. What hand work do you do? Do you find particular satisfaction in it? I hope so.

Blessings,
Marta

KATIE'S WAY by Marta Perry

Katie's Way, Book 5 in the Pleasant Valley Amish series, will be in stores on Tuesday, November 1. I hope you've been looking forward to a return visit to Pleasant Valley.

Here's a sample for you to taste:

KATIE’S WAY
By Marta Perry

Chapter One

Fast-paced chatter in Pennsylvania Dutch, followed by a ripple of women’s laughter, floated through the archway from what used to be a hardware store. Caleb Brand forced himself to focus on the rocking chair he was waxing, trying to ignore the sounds of change.
He didn’t like change. This building, with its two connected shops, had been a male enclave for years. Now all that was different, because Bishop Mose had decided to rent the other side to Katie Miller for a quilt shop.
Caleb gritted his teeth and rubbed a little harder, trying to concentrate on the grain of the hickory. Rocking chairs were among his best sellers, and this one had turned out to his satisfaction. He’d never let anything go out of his shop that he wouldn’t be happy to have in his own home.
Another peal of female laughter. How many women were over there, anyway, helping to set up for the opening tomorrow? It sounded as if half the sisters in the church district.
No reason why Katie Miller, newly komm to Pleasant Valley from Columbia County, shouldn’t open a quilt shop. He wished her well. Just not next door to him.
The bell on his own front door jingled, and he looked up. Bishop Mose, his white beard fluttering in the mild May breeze that swept down the main street of the village, ducked into the shop.
“Bishop Mose.” He half-rose, showing the man where he was behind the counter at the rear of the show room.
“Ach, Caleb, I thought you’d be tucked away in your workshop at this hour.” The bishop, his years seeming to sit lightly on him, wound his way through the handmade wooden furniture that filled the room.
“Nobody’s here to help out today, so I have to mind the shop.” He put the lid on the furniture wax, tapping it down tight. “Can I do something for you today?”
“Ach, no.” The bishop’s blue eyes, wise with a lifetime of service to the Amish of Pleasant Valley, crinkled a little. “Chust thought I should see for myself how you’re dealing with your new neighbor.”
Caleb glanced down at the rocker to avoid meeting the bishop’s gaze. “Fine. Everything’s fine, I think.”
Maybe he didn’t understand why Bishop Mose had seen fit to install a quilt shop next to him, but he wouldn’t complain. He’d never forget that when it seemed every person in the valley had turned against him, Bishop Mose had accepted his word.
It was eight years since then, and Caleb supposed folks still talked. But thanks to Bishop Mose, he had his place here.
In the brief silence between them, the sound of women’s voices came through clearly, talking about how best to display some quilts, it seemed.
“That’s gut,” Bishop Mose said. “I thought maybe it would be a bother to you, having a quilt shop next door instead of a hardware store.”
Caleb caressed the curved spindle of the rocker absently, the wood warm and smooth under his hand. Could he drop a hint in the bishop’s ear?
“Well, I did think a hardware store was a better fit with my shop.” He said the words as cautiously as if he walked on eggs. “We shared more of the same customers, ain’t so?”
“You don’t think the folks who buy Katie’s quilts will be interested in your fine rocking chairs and chests?” Bishop Mose lifted white eyebrows.
Another burst of laughter scraped at his nerves. “No. I don’t think a bunch of quilting women are likely to want what—“
He stopped, a little too late, he supposed. Katie Miller stood in the archway, and he didn’t doubt she’d heard him.
He cleared his throat, trying to think what to say, but she beat him to it.
“Ach, Bishop Mose, I thought I heard your voice.” The warm smile she directed toward the bishop probably didn’t include Caleb. “Would you like to see what we’ve done with the shop?”
“We would like nothing better.” He reached across the counter to clap Caleb’s shoulder. “Komm, Caleb. We’ll have a look at your new neighbor, ain’t so?”
Caleb hesitated, glancing at Katie. Her blue eyes were guarded, it seemed to him, and her strong jaw set. Katie Miller looked like a determined woman, one bent on doing things her way.
Which was maybe how she’d reached her mid-twenties without marrying, unusual for an Amish woman. And at the moment her way most likely didn’t include showing him her shop.
But in the next instant her expression had melted into a smile. She smoothed back a strand of light brown hair under the white kapp on the back of her head and nodded. “Komm. I’d like fine to show you what we’ve done.”
With the bishop’s hand on his shoulder Caleb couldn’t very well pull away. He walked through the archway, feeling as if he was moving into the foreign land.
It looked that way, too. Harvey Schmidt’s barrels of nails and coils of wire were long gone, of course. The shop had been stripped down to the bare shelves during Harvey’s closing sale. But now—
The walls and shelves had been painted white, as had the counters. Against the white, every color possible glowed in bolts of fabric and spools of thread. It looked like a huge flowerbed in full bloom.
And that was saying nothing of the quilts, draped on a four-poster maple bed that had been placed in the center of the space. Another quilt, in shades of blue and yellow and white, sagged dangerously between Molly, Katie’s cousin and the reason Katie had come to the valley in the first place, and Sarah Mast, Pleasant Valley’s midwife. Both were up on chairs, obviously trying to hang the quilt from a rod that Harvey had used to support coils of rope.
“That looks like a dangerous thing to be doing.” Bishop Mose was quick to steady the chair on which Molly teetered. “Especially for a new maami.”
Dimples appeared in Molly’s cheeks. “Ach, you sound just like my Aaron. Anyone would think I was made of glass to hear him. After all, our little boy is nearly three months old now.”
“Ja, well, komm down, anyway.” Katie went quickly to grasp the quilt from them. “This I’ll put on the bed, and I have some quilted table runners that can hang from the rod instead.”
Molly and Sarah climbed down, looking a little relieved, he thought. Sarah took the quilt from Katie.
“We’ll take care of it. You have guests to show around.”
Katie surrendered the quilt and spread her arms wide in a gesture that took in the whole of the small shop. “Here it is, as you can see.” A smile blossomed on her face, touching her eyes and bringing a glow to her cheeks.
Happiness. Hope. They radiated from Katie like heat from a stove. Caleb couldn’t help but be touched.
But that didn’t change anything, he reminded himself. Having the woman’s business right next door was going to be a nuisance, at the very least.
And if she’d heard what folks said about him, he could only wonder why she’d want to be here at all.

AMISH QUILTS

I'm currently writing KATIE'S WAY, the fifth book in my Pleasant Valley Amish series, and in this story Katie Miller, the protagonist, runs a quilt shop in the village of Pleasant Valley. One of the most delightful aspects of writing this book is that it gives me a wonderful excuse to visit Amish quilt shops!

Quilting isn't restricted to the Amish and Mennonites, of course. It's popular around the world, probably beginning as a way to make good use of the small scraps of material left over from other projects. Although quilters now often buy the materials they use, planning the color effects as carefully as any other artist, there's something very special about those old quilts made from scraps. We have a lovely Double Wedding Ring quilt that was made by my mother-in-law's aunt in the early 1900s, and when I look at it, I can easily imagine which pieces came from a little girl's pinafore, which from a man's work shirt. It's the story of a family, told with love in stitches and scraps of fabric.

I don't think that anyone would argue about the quality of quilts made by Amish and Mennonite women. The quilts are functional, befitting a community which values making things for use, not just 'for pretty.' But they are also often works of art, with each bit of color, each element of the design, each stitch even, an expression of a woman's gift.

The Amish tend to use traditional designs, although some newer patterns have worked their way into their repertoire, especially in quilts that are made to sell. The Log Cabin, the Double Wedding Ring, the various Star patterns are used over and over again in endless combinations. The quilt on my bed, handmade by an Amish woman from Lancaster County, is a lovely combination of Log Cabin and Star, done in shades of blue and yellow with touches of white. The older Amish quilts, which were made for use by the maker, were typically made with scraps from clothing fabric, always plain, and in the deep, rich, saturated colors used for clothing. Background and binding were typically done in black.

If you're interested in Amish quilts, you definitely want to plan a visit to the People's Place Quilt Museum in Intercourse, Pennsylvania. Their displays change from time to time, but they are always enthralling. On my most recent visit I was captivated by a Tumbling Blocks pattern so designed that it almost made me dizzy to look at because of the effect of movement it gave. The People's Place Quilt Museum is on the second floor of the Old Country Store, which sells a huge variety of quilted items handmade by local residents, mostly Amish and Mennonite women. It also has what has to be one of the best collections of quilting fabrics I've ever seen. I can never go in there without buying something!

And if you're near New Holland in Lancaster County, you must visit the Witmer Quilt Shop. Emma Witmer runs the shop she inherited from her mother out of her home. The day I visited with her, Emma had over 150 quilts in the three first floor rooms of her house. She has a number of women who do the actual quilting, but Emma herself picks out every color and every fabric that goes into the quilts. Emma's shop is open every day except, as is the case with all Plain-run businesses, on Sunday.

I'm not finished yet. I have several Amish quilt shops yet to visit, and I hope I can resist the temptation to buy more than I can afford while I do this research!