Gathering the Threads
By Cindy Woodsmall
Finally back in the Old Order Amish world she loves, will Ariana’s new perspectives draw her family closer together-or completely rip them apart?
After months away in the Englisch world, Ariana Brenneman is overjoyed to be in the Old Order Amish home where she was raised. Yet her excitement is mixed with an unexpected apprehension as she reconciles all she’s learned from her biological parents with the uncompromising teachings of her Plain community. Although her childhood friend, ex-Amish Quill Schlabach, hopes to help her navigate her new role amongst her people, Ariana’s Daed doesn’t understand why his sweet daughter is suddenly questioning his authority. What will happen if she sows seeds of unrest and rebellion in the entire family?
Meanwhile, Skylar Nash has finally found her place among the large Brenneman family, but Ariana’s arrival threatens to unravel Skylar’s new identity-and her sobriety. Both Ariana and Skylar must discover the true cords that bind a family and community together and grasp tight the One who holds their authentic identities close to His heart.
Gathering the Threads is the third and final novel in The Amish of Summer Grove series.
ISLAND BREEZES
Ariana and Skylar have both had their worlds turned upside down. Do they belong in the Englisch world or the Old Order Amish world? Or neither?
It’s going to be long and painful for each young lady to reassess what her life has been and what it will be in the future. These sisters of a sort have a difficult job ahead of them.
Ms Woodsmall has taken us through a unique situation, and has given us a deeper insight into what being Amish really is about.
Thank you, Ms Woodsmall, for this third in the Amish of Summer Grove series. I haven’t read the first two books, but can attest to the fact that this is a good stand alone read.
***I received this book free of charge from Litfuse.***
http://litfusegroup.com/author/CWoodsmall
Chapter 1
Summer Grove, Pennsylvania
Ariana’s head roared with voices, those in the kitchen around her and others from far away, even from hundreds of years in the past. Voices of real people she’d talked to or had heard preach or teach, as well as the voices from the many books Nicholas had asked her to read. The voices grouped in clans, their murmurings growing fervent, insisting precisely what she needed to believe, who she needed to be, and why she needed to march to the beat of their drum.
Ariana needed to know herself well enough to pick a tribe she agreed with and shut down the rest with her own reasoning. But she couldn’t parse what she believed, and they hounded without mercy.
Marred flatware jangled endlessly as her nine siblings, five of her fourteen nieces and nephews, her Mamm and Daed, and Skylar sat around the table in rickety chairs. The mid-January wind pushed against the house and seemed to come right through the walls.
An old galvanized bucket sat in the sink because the water pipe to the kitchen was broken again. If the pipes to the sink in the mudroom hadn’t been working, getting breakfast on the table would’ve been a lot more work.
Rickety furniture, cold winds seeping in, and broken pipes didn’t bother her. Money and work could easily fix those things. What nagged at her was much deeper. She was finally in the very home she’d pined for while away, and yet only a fragment of herself seemed to be here.
Her Daed worked really hard, but his income was too small for a family this size. Ariana couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t long to make life better for them. That was why she and Abram had spent years working to buy the café. She had been convinced it would bring in enough money to make life easier for Mamm and Daed.
The voices in her head grew louder. One group said money was evil and poverty was God’s will, that it made people rely on Him more. Another group shouted louder than the first, saying that lack was from the Enemy. Still more voices said that being poor was due to a lack of education. A dozen more camps vied to be heard, and Ariana was powerless to sort them out.
“Ariana.” Mamm pointed at her plate, sounding baffled, maybe even alarmed. “Is this not your favorite breakfast anymore?”
A stack of pancakes stared back at Ariana. Her stomach churned. “It is. Denki, Mamm.” She used the edge of her fork to cut into the pancakes.
“You’re not yourself.” Susie passed her a plate of bacon. “That’s more plain to see than your poorly pinned-up hair under your lopsided prayer Kapp.”
Her bun was messy and her head covering was pinned askew? She should at least adjust the Kapp, but she simply nodded. “I’m a little out of sorts. That’s all.”
She didn’t feel just a little out of sorts. She longed to scream at the voices in her head to shut up.
Cindy Woodsmall is the “New York Times” and CBA best-selling author of nineteen works of fiction and non-fiction with more than a million copies sold. Her connection with the Amish community has been featured in national media outlets such as ABC’s “Nightline,” the “Wall Street Journal,” and a National Geographic documentary on Amish life. Cindy and her husband reside near the foothills of the North Georgia Mountains.
Find out more about Cindy at http://www.cindywoodsmall.com.
