Sarah's Orphans

by Vannetta Chapman

  As much as he loved those two children, all of Sarah’s brothers, in fact, his main concern today was Sarah.

  Would she be able to handle another major disappointment?

  Did she want to marry him?

  Would she need time before moving on with her life?

  Of course, there was a good chance that the judge would decide in favor of permanent placement, in which case Sarah would find herself a single parent to five children. That wasn’t completely true. She had Mammi to help her. And Henry was a man now, able to care for himself. His small engine business was doing remarkably well.

  Paul also didn’t doubt for a minute that Andy would always provide for her. Even after he married, which Paul suspected would be sooner than anyone thought, Andy would still be there for Sarah and all of the children—including Mateo and Mia.

  The two Lopez youngsters had worked their way into the heart of everyone, not just Sarah.

  “Did Sarah like the honey you took her?” Rebecca continued to knit as they sped down the highway toward Tulsa.

  “Ya. She said it would be gut for the children’s allergies.”

  “It’s true. Local honey helps in many ways.”

  Paul found himself looking for small things to take them when he visited. On the nights he wasn’t there to help put the younger children to bed, he felt a hole in his life that he’d never noticed before. He didn’t regret that he’d never married. Before Sarah, there had been no one he’d even considered himself suitable for. Was he a good match for her?

  He found no answers as they made their way west, into the city, and parked next to the courthouse. As they poured out of the two vehicles, several people turned to stare at their group, which he supposed was larger than most.

  Mammi shepherded the boys inside like a mother goose. Sarah had a firm grasp of Mia’s hand.

  “Have we had an escape this morning?” Paul asked.

  “Ya, we have. I’m determined not to lose her in the courthouse.”

  “Paul! Pick me up.”

  Once he’d raised her in the air, she patted his face with her left hand. In her other hand she held a wilted clump of something.

  “I got Sarah flowers.”

  “I see that.”

  They traipsed up the stairs to the second-floor waiting room and took a seat on the long bench. Had it been more than a year ago that he’d traveled here with Sarah? It had been a mercy trip then. She’d been so terrified of losing the children. Was she terrified still?

  He caught her eye and smiled. He wanted to pull her into his arms and assure her that everything would be fine, but there was no time.

  Chloe hurried over to them as soon as she turned the corner from the stairwell.

  “I was worried you might be caught in traffic. I went downstairs to look for you and must have missed you.”

  “We were a few minutes late taking off,” Sarah explained.

  They both turned to study Mia, who was being led to a bench by Mammi.

  “Well, I’m glad everything turned out fine.” Chloe pulled Sarah into a hug and began to laugh, wiping at her cheeks. “I don’t know why I’m crying. I’m just so excited for you all.”

  An Englischer stepped out of Family Courtroom 3. He was a bald man with a protruding belly. The man looked like a police officer, but Paul had learned the last time that he was in fact the courtroom deputy. He was there to make sure everything proceeded smoothly. His name was Carson, and he liked to fish. That was all he’d learned about the man before.

  Deputy Carson raised an eyebrow when he spotted them. Perhaps they made an odd group for the adoption of two small children.

  “Yoder and Lopez families?” He glanced down at a clipboard. “Immediate family only.”

  “That’s us.” Sarah motioned for her brothers and Mia and Mateo and Mammi to stand.

  He didn’t seem at all surprised to have Amish people in his courtroom. “Follow me, please.”

  But if the man had hoped to keep a professional distance, he failed miserably. Mia ran up to him, pushing the wilted flowers toward him and proclaiming, “I got Sarah flowers!”

  Deputy Carson looked left, looked right, and then he hitched up his pants and squatted down in front of her. “Those are awfully pretty. Now who might Sarah be?”

  Mia pointed to Sarah, whose cheeks turned a pretty pink.

  “I’d say Sarah is one lucky lady.”

  Everyone else in their party had stood when Deputy Carson walked out.

  Now Rebecca hugged Sarah. “We’ll be praying while we wait.”

  Sarah nodded and glanced at Paul, but apparently she didn’t trust herself to speak.

  Bishop Levi followed the family into the courtroom, explaining to the court officer that he was their bishop.

  Chloe sighed and crossed her arms. She sat down and pulled out her phone. She stared at it a moment as if she wasn’t seeing whatever was on the small screen, and finally she stuffed it back into her purse. Closing her eyes, she leaned forward, elbows on her knees and palms pressed together, and began to pray.

  The large wooden door to the courtroom clicked shut, leaving Paul on a wooden bench, in the hall of an Englisch courtroom, wondering what was to become of his life.

  CHAPTER 79

  Sarah’s right arm began to tremble as she walked to the front row in the courtroom. She clasped it to her side. What if the judge noticed? She should be confident, not nervous. She stopped at the front row, and each of her brothers filed past her, pausing to give her a quick hug or squeeze her hand. Andy, Henry, Luke, Isaac, and Mateo. Her grandmother passed next, holding Mia’s hand. Mammi winked, and Mia reached over and patted her face. Bishop Levi took a seat behind them, smiling at her confidently.

  And suddenly Sarah was no longer afraid. With each gesture of appreciation, her confidence returned a little more until suddenly she wasn’t merely pretending to be confident. She was confident. God had given her this family—all of them. It wasn’t conventional. On paper, it didn’t make much sense. But these were the people she loved the most…these and those waiting in the hall, including one man whose gaze told her that he was longing to share his life with her.

  When she sat, Mia crawled onto her lap, yawning and resting her head against Sarah’s chest. It was time for the child’s nap, and she should have a snack first. Her mind skipped over the typical tasks of a Monday, and then her thoughts settled back on the courtroom.

  Sarah didn’t know what the judge would decide. She didn’t have a vision of the future. God didn’t whisper in her ear. He didn’t have to. He’d already spoken to her—through His words in their family Bible and through the actions and words of those who loved her. And what exactly had everyone said?

  Don’t be afraid, Sarah.

  God’s got this, Sarah.

  You can trust Him.

  Fear not.

  Mateo and Mia would be a part of her heart forever. She’d been changed by them. She’d become a person she didn’t even know she was capable of being. Oh, she still made a mess when she cooked dinner, and she wasn’t the best housekeeper, but she knew how to love children. God had given her that ability in abundance.

  The courtroom clerk stood and said, “All rise for the Honorable Judge Murphy.”

  The judge wore the same black robe as before, but now she sported blond highlights running through her chestnut-colored hair. Chloe had told her the judge was forty-four years old. To Sarah she looked both young and old. Young in her appearance, including the brightly colored earrings and purple framed glasses. Old in her eyes, in the way she looked at children, and in her mannerisms—pausing before she spoke, nodding sympathetically as she listened to someone, her thoughtful expressions. Sarah didn’t doubt for a moment that this woman loved children and strove to find the best home possible for them.

  “How is everyone this morning?”

  Nine heads, including Sarah’s, bobbed up and down.

  They were good. They were together.

  “This is bo
th a review hearing and a permanency hearing for the placement of Mateo and Mia Lopez into the home of Sarah Yoder.”

  “Yes, your honor.” Tommy Cronin sat across from them. He seemed as pale as the last time Sarah had seen him, and if anything his red hair was cut even shorter than before. The large black glasses were the same. He stood, pressed his tie down flat, and cleared his throat. “We submitted all of the standard paperwork to the court, including the home visit reports, initial family medical evaluations and background checks, and letters of reference.”

  “I see that.” Judge Murphy shuffled papers for a few moments before closing the folder and removing her glasses. She directed her comments to Sarah. “I’ve thoroughly reviewed the information Mr. Cronin sent me. Thank you for complying completely and quickly with this court’s requests. You’ve made my job easier.”

  The court reporter sat at her small typewriter, recording every word said. She was young—probably Sarah’s age—and rarely looked up from her work.

  Now the judge turned her gaze toward the children. “At our last visit I had the opportunity to meet with your brothers.”

  Andy, Henry, Luke, and Isaac each offered a small wave.

  “And I also visited with both Mateo and Mia.”

  Mateo offered a similar wave. Mia turned and whispered to Sarah. At first Sarah nodded, hoping to appease the child, but then she began to shake her head. Mia placed both hands on Sarah’s face. “Please, Sarah. Please.”

  Tommy Cronin must have noticed what was happening because he hurried across the aisle to see what the issue was. Sarah whispered Mia’s request. Tommy straightened up, turned to the judge, and said, “My client, Mia Lopez, would like permission to approach the bench, your honor.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s a bit unusual, but all right.”

  Mia jumped from Sarah’s lap and ran to the front of the room, pausing a few feet from the judge to straighten her apron. Sarah had thought perhaps Mia shouldn’t wear her kapp today. She had even considered purchasing Englisch clothes for Mia and Mateo. In the end Mateo had claimed that would be a foolish use of their money, and Mia had insisted she wanted to wear her Plain clothing. “Like you, Sarah.”

  And so earlier that morning, Mammi had wound her dark tresses into a braid, pinned it in a coil, and fastened the kapp onto her head. Now Mia stopped a few feet from the judge, disentangled her kapp strings from where they’d fallen into the bunch of flowers, and smiled up at the judge. She hurried to the side of the bench, where Judge Murphy was waiting.

  “I got these for Sarah,” Mia was attempting to whisper, but as usual her excitement raised her voice. They could all hear the girl’s explanation. “I want to give them to you now. Look! The purple matches your glasses.”

  She pushed the flowers into the judge’s hands and added, “Sarah says it’s okay.”

  “Why, thank you, Mia.”

  “They smell gut, see?” The young girl moved the flowers closer to the judge’s face. When Judge Murphy laughed, everyone else in the courtroom did as well.

  “I love them.”

  Pleased, Mia turned and scampered back to Sarah, practically bouncing into her lap.

  The judge reclaimed her seat, put on her glasses, and once again shuffled through the papers in the folder.

  “There has been one new development in this case since we last met. I would like to address this with Sarah and Mia and Mateo in my chambers.” She pulled off her glasses and looked solemnly from Mateo to Mia to Sarah. Then she cleared her throat and said, “We were successful in contacting the children’s mother.”

  CHAPTER 80

  Mateo wasn’t afraid of the judge, but neither did he want to leave his brothers and walk to the judge’s office. Isaac, who always knew what he was thinking, pulled their school paper from his pocket and pushed it into Mateo’s hands.

  “Take this with you. Maybe it will help.”

  The paper had been folded a number of times and easily fit into Mateo’s pocket. He nodded his thanks, and then he followed Sarah, his sister, and their social worker out of the courtroom.

  Instead of moving behind her desk, the judge sat in a large upholstered chair with a footstool. She motioned to the other chairs that were positioned around her. Sarah sat in one, and Mia crawled onto her lap. Tommy sat in the other, which left the footstool for Mateo. He didn’t mind, but he would have felt more comfortable just sitting on the rug.

  “I wanted to read this letter to you in private, though it will be a part of your permanent record. Your mother wrote the letter in Spanish, but I had it translated into English. Can you read Spanish, Mateo?”

  “Ya. My teacher has been working with me. He says it’s good for me to be bilingual.”

  “Indeed it is.” She handed a copy to Mateo. “I’ll read it aloud in English, and you can follow along in Spanish.”

  When Mateo touched the paper, he felt so many things at once that he thought he might fall off the stool.

  He felt relief that his mother was alive. She must be alive if she’d written a letter.

  He felt fear that this would change everything, that he would lose his place in the Yoder family.

  And a very small part of him, a part that was as young as Mia and as naive, felt hope that perhaps the letter would contain good news.

  Judge Murphy cleared her voice and began to read.

  Dear Mateo and Mia,

  I am very sorry that I did not come back to the old trailer. I meant to, but I didn’t—and that was wrong. I regret that. I also know that is was wrong to snatch you off the road and drag you to Tulsa. I regret many things in my life. The one thing I’m proud of is the two of you.

  The social worker here explained to me that Sarah wants to take care of you. God is good.

  Gracias a Dios. Mateo read the Spanish words and wondered if that meant his mother believed in God. He realized the judge was still reading and scanned down the page to catch up with her.

  I want you to have what I couldn’t give you—food and clothes and a place to stay. Maybe you can even go to school now.

  Judge Murphy turned the paper over to the back, but she didn’t continue reading right away. Instead she looked over her glasses at Sarah and Mia and Mateo. Sarah had tears in her eyes, and both of her arms were around Mia, who was sucking her thumb. Mateo tried to swallow the huge lump in his throat. He felt as if he’d eaten too many of Sarah’s cookies all at once. He was glad the judge was reading. He couldn’t see the words on his sheet very well because his eyes were full of tears. So he nodded and hoped she would continue.

  I want to be with you both. I do, but I am too sick to be a mommy right now. I am doing better, so don’t worry about me. I am living at the shelter. We have two meals a day here and are even able to see doctors. Some days I think that I will get better, but other days I’m not so sure. That’s not what is important, though. The important thing is that I love you both, and I always will.

  No one said anything for a few moments. Judge Murphy placed the paper in her folder, and she motioned for Mateo to keep the copy he was holding. He didn’t know what to do with it—this goodbye note from his mother—so he folded it and put it in his pocket, and that was when he found the school paper. He pulled it out and unfolded it, staring at his writing and Isaac’s.

  And then he did something he had dreamt of doing. He handed the sheet to the judge.

  “Is this something you wrote?”

  “Yes. It was an assignment in school. Brian, our teacher, told us to buddy up with someone and trace each other’s hands.”

  “Brian is Amish?” The judge had pulled off her glasses, but now she put them back on.

  Mateo shrugged because he didn’t know if Brian was Amish or not. He turned and looked at Sarah.

  “He became Amish,” she said. “He was raised Englisch.”

  Tommy leaned forward, to get a better look at the paper.

  Judge Murphy motioned for Mateo to go on.

  “So you trace and cut out the other perso
n’s hand. Inside the hand, you write three things that are special about that person. But you don’t show it to them. Not yet. So we…we couldn’t see what each other was writing.”

  The judge’s eyebrow went up, and now Sarah was interested. She shifted Mia, who had fallen asleep in her lap and leaned forward. Mateo and Isaac hadn’t shown the paper to Sarah when they brought it home. They had wanted to surprise her after the court day was over. Sarah always smiled at their work. She was proud of what they did and collected the papers in a box. So their plan had been to show it to her at dinner, later that day. But then Mateo had told Isaac about his dream.

  In the dream he’d walked into the courthouse alone. The place was dark and quiet, and he’d been a little frightened. When he’d found the right courtroom and walked in, Sarah had been sitting at the back—crying. Mateo hadn’t known what to do. He’d never seen Sarah cry before. So he’d walked to the front of the room, where the judge was washing dishes.

  “There’s no sink or dishes in the courtroom.” Isaac had laughed and held his stomach and laughed some more. Eventually, Mateo had begun to laugh with him, and he’d felt less upset about the dream.

  “Then what happened?” Isaac asked.

  “I gave her the paper from school.”

  “What happened after that?” Now Isaac’s voice was quiet and serious.

  “I don’t know. The rooster crowed and I woke up.”

  Isaac had insisted they should take it with them to the courthouse.

  “This is your hand?” Judge Murphy pointed to the hand that was shaded brown around the edges.

  “Yes. And that is Isaac’s. When we were done, Brian told us to paste them together on a sheet. He told us to remember that God gave us friends and family as a blessing.”

  Isaac’s handwriting was better than Mateo’s, but Mateo was proud of his nonetheless. He wasn’t in a special class anymore. He learned with all of the other kids, and he was keeping up.