KEYS of

HEAVEN
A Healing Grace Novel

ADINA SENFT

New York Boston Nashville

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the
product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Though the
herbal recipes and cures in this book are based on traditional herbal practices,
please consult your doctor before using them to treat any ailments.
Copyright 2015 by Shelley Bates
Excerpt from Balm of Gilead 2015 by Shelley Bates
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the
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support of the authors rights.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Senft, Adina.
Keys of heaven : a healing grace novel / Adina Senft.
pages cm
ISBN 978-1-4555-4866-8 (trade pbk.) -- ISBN 978-1-4555-4864-4 (ebook)
I. Title.
PS3602.A875K49 2015
813'.6--dc23
2014013998

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Chapter 1

he young Amish mother in the mint-green dress, black

bib apron, and crisp organdy Kapp looked at Sarah Yoder
a little doubtfully. Chickweed?
The June sun shone through the sparkling windows of the
guest room on the first floor of the farmhouse, which Sarah
had begun to use as her dispensary. Gripping his mothers
hand and trying manfully not to cry was her little patienta
boy of four so sunburned that his skin had already begun to
peel.
Briskly, Sarah took the big bunch of chickweed that shed
pulled from the bank near her garden, and demonstrated as she
talked. Its a humble little plant, but its wunderbaar, truly.
You scrunch it up and rub it between your hands, like this,
ja? The plants began to break down, their juicy stems and
leaves forming a wet mass (mucilaginous, her herb book said,
when goopy would have done as well). When it was good and
ready, Sarah gently applied it to the little boys arms and shoulders. Were you working in the field with your Dat, Aaron?
He gulped and shook his head, flinching in spite of himself. We went swimming in the pond. Mei Bruder and the
boys from the next farm.
Ah, I see. And when youre swimming, you dont feel

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the sun working on you, do you? Does this feel better? She
dabbed the juicy mass on his cheeks and forehead, and he
nodded.
It feels cool.
She stepped back and smiled at him. You look like a duck
who just came up out of the pond, all covered in weed. What
does a duck say?
Instead of saying quack-quack, the boy gave a perfect imitation of a mallards call.
I see a hunter in the making. She brushed his fine blond
hair from his eyes and tried to ignore the pang in her heart.
Simon. Caleb. No longer little boys who she could cuddle
and sing to. And now, Simon was gone.
He and his best friend Joe Byler had done a bait-andswitch a few weeks ago, making them all think they were
going to an Amish community in Colorado for a working vacation, and all the time theyd secured jobs at a dude ranch,
wrangling horses. They were working among worldly people
and all the temptations to a young man that living outside the
circle of their people would bring.
Oh Lord, be with him and keep him safe.
How long should I leave the chickweed on him? Aarons
mother asked.
Not long, Sarah assured her, coming back to herself.
This was work she could do, a difference she could make
right here with another womans child. Worrying about Simon profited her nothing. The Lord had him cupped in His
hand, didnt He? There was no reason to worry. Rinse it off
when you get home, and if you can, squish up some more and
put it on when he goes to bed. He might need to sleep on a
towel, to save the sheets.
Denki, Sarah. Im so glad you knew what to do. Sunscreen

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is no good after the damage is done, and vinegar didnt seem

to help him.
Sarah accepted a payment that still seemed to her to be too
much for such a simple solution, but the young mother seemed
happy with both the treatment and the new knowledge shed
gained. When they clopped away down the drive in the graysided buggy the churches used here in Lancaster County, Sarah
could already hear Aaron begging to take the reins, just the way
Caleb, her youngest, always had when he was that age.
Boys and ponds. Boys and horses. Boys and dirt. You could
count on the magnetic attraction between them the way you
counted on the turn of the seasons.
She turned and walked across the lawn to her gardenor
as her sister-in-law Amanda was fond of saying, that crazy
quilt patch you planted. The patterns she had seen in her
minds eye back in the muddy days of spring had come to
full fruition, the way a complicated star-and-flying-geese pattern materialized out of fabric when Sarahs mother-in-law,
Corinne, made Yoder a quilt.
First there was nothing, and then there was something,
patterns emerging to create beauty where there had been none
before. Was this how women reflected God as they went
about the act of creation in small ways and large?
Sarah knelt to inspect the progress of the peas climbing up
their teepees of string. Was she being prideful even to think
such things? Because baking, gardening, and sewing were all
small acts of creation, when you got right down to it. Leaving
out the miracle of conception itself, what about bringing up
children? There was no creation as beautiful as a child who
worshipped God and learned to love Him at an early age.
Hallo, Sarah!
And speaking of . . .

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She stood and shaded her eyes against the sun. Hallo,
Priscilla. Wie gehts?
Im well, denki. She waved an envelope and Sarah felt
a leap in her heart. I have a letter from Joe. I thought you
might like to read it.
From Joe. Not Simon.
As the pretty blond sixteen-year-old crossed the grass,
Sarah took a deep breath to settle herself and made her way
between the squares of culinary and medicinal herbs to join
her under the maple trees. Youre lucky. Joe is a much better
letter-writer than Simon, as it turns out. My boy has never
been away from home this longnever had to write me letters. The things we find out, even when we think we know
someone so well.
Thats why I thought you might want to share it with
me.
Come back to the house. Do you have time for a root
beer? I made some on Saturday.
I do. Its my day off from the InnGinny doesnt have
anyone come in on Sundays, and her other helper is working
today. I cant stay long, though. Mamm is doing the washing.
Nearly all the women in their district did on Mondays.
Sarah had just finished taking in hers before the sunburn patient had arrived.
When they were settled with cold root beer fizzing in tall
glasses, Sarah opened Priscillas letter from Joe.
Dear Pris,
I hope you are well. Im writing this from the porch
of the bunkhouse, where all us hands sleep. Yesterday
was officially the longest Ive ever been gone from home,
including that time we went to Holmes County when

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my two cousins married twin sisters and there was a tornado during the wedding. Hard to believe.
Simon sends his regards.
We been real busy. Like I told you in my last letter,
this aint no fly-by-night outfit. The ranch house alone
must have cost a couple million to build, even if it is just
a real big, fancy log cabin, and dont even get me started
on the barns and bunkhouses. Everything is first class.
Guess thats why they hired us, ha ha.
We just got back from a week-long trail ride. Me and
Simon went along to tend to the horses, because a herd
of Japanese businessmen dont know much about em
except which end to put the bridle on.
They treated us real good, and I have to say, I never
seen such pretty country as I have here. You really see
what God was about when He made the earth. We saw
two bears and a mountain lion and a bald eagle. I took a
picture of the she-bear with my phone because I didnt
think any of the boys would believe I really saw one.
We worked with the guests to teach them about their
horses, and by the time we got back, all but one of the
Japanese men could saddle and curry his own horse. The
one who I guess is the boss of them was real happy with
what he called the team building exercisehe gave us
a nice tip. A hundred dollars is pretty nice, Id say! I sent
it home to Dat.
Ive had a letter from Mamm. I think Dat is still
pretty mad at me, but hell come around.
Okay, its time for supper.
Yours,
Joe

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Sarah folded up the letter and handed it back. Do you

think its true about Paul?
Priscilla shrugged one shoulder under her deep rose dress
and matching cape, and pushed up her glasses with one finger. I dont know. I think hed have been less mad if the boys
had been more honest. It wasnt the ranch he objected to, so
much as the lie.
Sarah could well imagine Pauls feelings of betrayal. Shed
struggled with the same. On top of it, she didnt have a big
farm to run with one less pair of hands.
After a moment, Priscilla said, Do you think theyre coming back?
Its only for the summer. Sarah wanted to encourage her,
but it was hard when she wondered the same thing. Whinburg Township is home. Im sure theyll be back when the
snow flies and theyre laid off, even if theyre not in time to
help with harvest.
Priscilla nodded, and as though this had reminded her
of something, she changed the subject. Is Caleb over at
Henrys?
Ja. Henry needed help no matter how he fought against
itdid you hear that he got an order from some big kitchen
store in New York to make jugs and batter bowls?
I did, and I know why, too. One of the men who works
for the company in New York spent the weekend at the Inn
with his girlfriend. He got Henrys name from Ginny and
spent the whole Saturday in the barn with him. His girlfriend
didnt mind, though. You should see the quilts she bought
one of them was Evie Troyers Rondelayher most expensive one. Mamm worked on it last winter. She said Evie was
delightedand so was her husband the bishop.
Good for Henry, to find such a good commission so soon

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after moving here. Sarah wished him welland as for any

other feelings . . .
After Henry had tried to help her stop Simon from leaving,
things had been . . . different between them. Oh, they were
cordial and neighborly and Sarah still sent over a plate of baking with Caleb when she could, but under it all was the faint
sound of an alarm bell ringing.
An Amish woman could be neighborly with an Englisch
man. The Amish were friendly to everyone. But Henry was
more than Englisch. He had grown up Amish and chosen
to leave rather than join the church. He and Sarah might
share a fence line, but between them there was a great gulf
fixed . . . and any feelings that might have gone beyond friendship could never cross that gulf.
After Priscilla went home, Sarah spent the afternoon weeding the herb beds next to the house, where she grew the
plants closest to her heart. The fragrance of lemon balm, rosemary, thyme, and lavender rose up around her the way prayer
must rise to God. The Bible called it a sweet-smelling savor.
Maybe it smelled something like this to the Lord, too.
Her chickens, interested in the disturbed soil, came to investigate, yanking out worms and chasing butterflies. The
way they threw themselves wholeheartedly into whatever they
did made her smile. People thought chickens were stupid, but
she was beginning to learn that wasnt so. She and Carrie
Miller over in Whinburg had got to talking when theyd run
into each other at the discount barn, both of them looking for
shoes for their Kinner. When Carrie explained that the birds
could learn their own names and understand phrases, Sarah
hadnt believed heruntil shed tried it herself.
One of the Red Stars was nipping at the leaves of the
sage. Here, you, she said. Not for chickens. You go eat the

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grass. The hen ignored her, so she said it again, and gently
moved the bird toward the lawn. The hen made one final attempt, and when Sarah repeated, Not for chickens, at last
she turned away and pulled up a few blades of grass instead.
Sometimes it took a few reminders to do the right thing.
Content with her garden and her flock, Sarah found herself
giving thanks for her blessings.
She didnt need to look over that fence where forbidden
things grew.

On Friday evenings, Sarah and Caleb usually crossed the

creek and walked up the hill to the home of Jacob and
Corinne Yoder, her late husbands parents. But since they
were expecting a visit by their extended family and the van
was to arrive on Friday, the immediate family supper had
been moved up to Wednesday.
Amanda met them at the door. At nearly twenty-one, she
was the baby of the family, unmarried and still living at
home, and she and Sarah had become such good friends that
Sarah had dispensed with sister-in-law and simply called her
sister.
Her own three sisters were far away in Mifflin County,
busy with husbands and children, and while they exchanged
letters every week, and saw each other at least once a year, it
wasnt the same as the everyday companionship shed been
used to, growing up. Amanda and her other sister-in-law
Miriam, who owned the local fabric store, had stepped into
the gap, and Sarah thanked God for them daily.
While Caleb galloped out to the barn to find Jacob, his
Daadi, Sarah followed Amanda into the kitchen to be hugged

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and absorbed into the busyness of getting a family meal on

the table.
She found a moment to pull Amanda aside, and took a
small package out of the pocket of her dress. I made you
some things for your skin, she said. Chickweed and cleaver
teaI wrote out a recipe that tastes gutlike breathing a
meadow. It will clear your glands if you drink a cup every
morning. And here is a jar of rose cream. Use it everywhere,
not just your face.
Amanda touched her jaw, where a couple of blemishes had
appeared, her gaze falling self-consciously. Is it that bad?
Sarah gave her a squeeze. Of course not. But there is nothing wrong with using the plants God gave us to make things
better.
But to care about how I look is vanity, Amanda objected
in her gentle way.
Our bodies are Gods temple, Sarah reminded her. And
there is nothing vain about providing a healthy place for
Gods spirit to dwell.
Amanda laughed and accepted the packet. All right. There
is no arguing with a Dokterfraa.
I dont like people calling me that, Sarah said, following
her upstairs to her bedroom, where Amanda put the packet
on the dresser. Mostly Im just muddling through the books
Ruth lent me, experimenting on poor Caleb, and hoping I
dont hurt anyone.
Thats not what I hear. Amandas loyalty touched Sarahs
heart, but before she could respond, Corinne called them
down to help put the food on the table.
Later, after a dessert of lemon meringue pie and homemade
ice cream, while the four women were doing the dishes and
the menfolk were relaxing with full bellies in the living room

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and girding their loins to take on Caleb at Scrabble, Amanda

brought it up again.
I hope you dont mind that I mentioned you to Linda
Peachey on Sunday. I know you have your regular patients,
but it cant hurt to expand, can it?
Linda Peachey? Corinnes hands stilled in the hot dishwater. Isnt she well? Not that I wouldnt believe it, living on
that tumbledown farm with all those wild children. I dont
understand why Crist doesnt move out of his brothers place
and give her a home of her own.
I doubt he can afford it, Mamm, Miriam said, wiping
plates dry with speed and precision. They live off the land as
it isboth theirs and their neighbors.
Sarah remembered the first time shed gone for church at
the Peachey farm, back when the old folks had it. It had
sparkled with fresh paint and you could swear the lawn had
been trimmed with nail scissors, so beautifully was it kept.
But Crist Peachey and his brother Arlon didnt seem to have
the gift either for farming or for keeping the yard and barn
in good condition. The old place seemed shabbier and more
run-down every year they hosted church. Their wives did
their best to grow food, but it seemed that the only things that
grew without effort were Arlon and Ellas children.
Crist and Linda, married five years, had not yet begun a
family.
What is Lindas trouble? Sarah asked.
Amanda looked a little embarrassed. You know.
There were only a few subjects on which Amanda didnt
have the confidence to speaksubjects where you had to have
experience before you could have an opinion.
Oh, Sarah said. I dont think anything I can do will help
her conceive. Thats in the Lords hands.

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At least talk to her, Amanda pleaded. Shes such a nice

little thing and she hardly gets a chance to open her mouth
with that tribe rampaging all over the place.
They shouldnt be rampaging. Corinne dropped a pot
into the sink with a clang. If those boys spent half the energy
on helping Arlon in the fields that they waste on climbing
trees and running wild in the woods, that farm would be a
different place.
Theyre still in school, arent they? Sarah said.
The two younger are, if you can pin them down long
enough to go, Amanda said. One of the elder two just got
back from a month with Arlons relatives in Lebanon County
and the other is putting the i in Rumspringe.
But why dont they help? she wanted to know. Its their
place to honor God and their father by helping him now that
theyre old enough. With four boys, that farm should be fixed
up and producing enough to keep them by now.
I dont know what the problem is, Corinne said.
Theyre a cheerful lot, and all smiles in their dirty faces, but a
firm hand should have been applied years ago, if you ask me.
I dont know what Arlon and Ella are thinking.
Arlon and Ella were not Sarahs business. But Amanda
seemed to think that Linda was. If you see Linda, let her
know Im happy to talk with her, she said at last. I dont
know how I can help, but at least I can give her a nice big slice
of pie and some fresh milk. Everything else is up to the Lord.
Amandas smile broke out, making her quiet face with its
broad forehead and small chin beautiful. Ill tell her.
Speaking of things being up to the Lord, I hope youre
coming Friday, Corinne said. Did you have anything else
planned?
Sarah shook her head. Only writing letters. My sister is

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expecting again, so were all excited as can be. She had a miscarriage this past winter, you know.
Corinne nodded. Ive been praying for herIm so glad!
Well, thats gut, then. Our company will be here in time for
dinneryou remember my cousins Zeke and Fannie King?
One of Fannies relatives who is farming east of there is coming, too. We hardly ever get to see Zeke and Fannie except in
the winter. This is a treat.
Id love to. What can I bring?
One of those funny salads with the flowers in it, Amanda
said promptly. I love those.
Sarah laughed and said, A salad it will be. Maybe Ill put
nasturtiums in it, just for you.
She reached up to put the dry drinking glasses in the cupboard, and missed the conspiratorial look and raised eyebrows
that Amanda exchanged with her mother. When she turned
back again, they had wiped it from their faces and the conversational river flowed on as if that silent exchange of secrets
had never been.

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