by Naomi Miller
“Or Travis, at least.”
Gwen spoke without looking up and Katie nearly asked her where he was working today, but stopped herself just before the words left her mouth.
It would not do to give her the wrong idea.
On the Eighth Day of Christmas . . .
Christmas Fudge
Kid Friendly Recipe
Ingredients:
2 cups peanut butter
2 cups confectioner’s sugar
2 tablespoons butter, melted
1/2 tablespoon pure vanilla extract
1/2 tablespoon pure almond extract
Instructions:
1. Line a square baking pan with wax paper (8x8 works best)
2. Mix ingredients together
3. Spread out on the baking pan
4. Refrigerate for 1 hour (or until hard)
5. Cut into small squares
6. Enjoy
** For extra flavor, add 1/2 cup semi sweet chocolate chips, just before time to spread mixture out in the baking pan.
— NINE —
Katie walked into the barn after Ervin, her big bruder. As she glanced around, looking for Freida, she wandered over to the large, pot-bellied cook stove where Maddie Mae Zook was stirring a large crock of what Katie really hoped was hot cocoa.
She had not made it into the barn without first being pelted with snowballs. The buwes had been deep into a snow battle when she arrived, and she had walked right into it, before she had realized why it was so quiet outside the barn.
“Katie!” Hannah had appeared beside Maddie Mae with a thick mug she must have brought with her, waving a hand to Katie.
The two were deep in discussion when Katie walked up. Almost immediately, Maddie Mae placed a mug of cocoa in Katie's hands. She stood there, holding it between her gloved hands, just letting the warmth soak into her cold fingers, while she listened to the two girls chatting.
“Oh, nee. I could never drink kaffe so late in the day. I would never get to sleep. It's difficult enough with the cocoa. That is why I usually volunteer to stir. I can breathe the wunderbaar smell and I get to be right here by the fire all evening, so I don't need to drink any of it to stay warm.”
With an unsuspecting smile, Hannah answered back, “Jah, but how will you ever know if one of the Yoder buwes shines a flashlight in your window if you just go to sleep each night?”
Maddie Mae cuffed Hannah playfully on the arm then. “Ach, Hannah you are too much.” Both of them were laughing when Katie joined them.
“Katie, I am so glad you are here.” Hannah leaned in to give her freind a hug, before going on. “I was worried you might still be working at the bakery. The lights were on when John Baker picked me up to bring me home.”
Katie was certain she knew who had been at the bakery, but she did not say anything to Hannah or Maddie Mae, lest word get around about Mrs. Simpkins. Instead, she stuck to as much of the truth as she could without raising suspicions.
“It is quite busy this time of year, you know.”
“Don't I know it! All I have to do at the Coffee Cup is make kaffe and serve the treats. You have to make all of the treats.” She laid a hand on Katie's arm before going on.
“By the way, danki for helping me out with those treats. Even though the delivery finally showed up this morning, Mr. Dell wants to talk to Mrs. Simpkins about a standing order for several types of pastries from the bakery. This would also ensure that everything is fresher, too.”
“They sold well, then?” Katie asked, trying to keep her words from sounding too excited.
“They certainly did.” She waved a hand at Katie before going on. “We definitely noticed a difference in the sales from Monday and yesterday—and the sales for today, too.”
“Could that just be the holiday season, though?”
“Nee, I don't think so. The supplier Mr. Dell orders the pastries from now does not carry anything like those wunderbaar chocolate croissants you brought me—and even the regular croissants you sent over sold much faster than what we have been getting. Yours simply look more appeditlich. Mr. Dell said since the contract with the supplier is ending in a few days, it’s the best time to change suppliers.”
Maddie Mae spoke up before Katie could respond. “Ooh, that is exciting, Katie.”
“It is exciting. I am certain Mrs. Simpkins will be pleased to hear it.” Katie hoped some gut news would help the dear lady to cheer up.
Of course, she was also hoping Mr. O'Neal's gift—if he could find one in time—would help. Beyond that, she was still unsure of how to even approach her usually sensible boss.
“Katie, look, they are lining up to start the singing.” Maddie Mae rushed off to get in line with the other young people.
Katie stayed where she was, hoping the warmth from the stove would chase away the chill from her bones.
It was only a minute before the group began singing one of Katie's favorite hymns. She did not join in from where she stood, but she could feel a warmth spreading through her as she listened to her neighbors' voices raised in song.
“Wow! They're really good.”
Katie jumped; startled at the all-too-familiar voice.
Ach, what is he doing here? She forced herself to take several breaths before turning to greet the only person here who could make her go weak in the knees.
“They are not singing to be gut, but I know what you mean. There is very little in this world that is as wondrous as a group of people with their voices raised in song to praise Gott.”
“It's too bad they don't sing to be gut. They would really make a fantastic choir.”
Katie looked up quickly at his use of her Dietsch word, but was quickly distracted by the remainder of his sentence.
“Why would they want to be a choir? What would be the use or purpose of that, if not to do just what they are doing now?”
“All I mean is that it's a shame more people don't get to enjoy such beautiful music. The world could use more of such pure praise.”
She wanted to answer back—to somehow make him understand—but could think of no answer that would properly explain, so she kept quiet and thought over his statement.
“I'm sorry. Really Katie, I meant no harm. Christmas is one of those times I get especially sentimental and it really bothers me to see how the world is wrecking things . . . especially Christmas.”
She looked up at him then, surprised to hear such passion over something so simple as hymns.
Or perhaps it is not so simple, after all.
Suddenly, she had an idea about the dear, sweet lady she had worked for over a year now. “Travis, do you think that could be the same thing that might be what is bothering Mrs. Simpkins?”
He looked at her for a moment, before understanding lit in his expression. “You could be on to something there. The real question is—what could we possibly do about it?”
That stopped Katie from answering. “That, I do not know. But we can pray about it.”
“That sounds like an idea.”
“Jah, we can certainly pray about it. And I will mention it to Mamm as well.”
“You're not going to. . .”
Katie interrupted before he could finish that thought. “Nee. That is not what I meant.”
“Whew.” Travis let out a heavy breath then. “You had me worried for a second there.”
“I am only going to ask her about ideas for cheering up Mrs. Simpkins.”
“But don't you think that will cause her to ask how you know Mrs. Simpkins needs cheering up?”
Katie started to speak, but the words turned into a “hmm” when she closed her mouth again.
After a moment she added, “You have a point. I didn't think of that. Well, what do you suggest?”
“I don't know. I just know it would be a bad idea to say too much to anyone before we know what's really going on.”
“Jah. I agree.”
The two of them stood there for several minutes, listening to the singing. The
group had finished one song and started another, when Maddie Mae appeared next to Katie and stirred the enormous crock of hot cocoa.
* * *
After Maddie Mae appeared, Travis quickly headed in the direction of the Yoder brothers. For one thing, he didn’t want anyone questioning why he was hanging around Katie. For another, he really did need to talk to them.
When he reached them, they were in a lively discussion about the Second Christmas dinner they were looking forward to.
Timothy was the first to speak to him. “Hey, Trav. Glad you could make it. Are you getting along okay so far? Have you met many of the others here?”
“Not everyone, but yeah, a few people. I think some of them are a bit nervous around me.”
“Jah, not many Englischers join us at the singings. But if you’re gonna be working with some of these buwes, I thought this would be the best chance to get to know them.”
“That’s a great idea.”
“All right, then. Let’s go meet everyone you don’t know. Just don’t you go and ask any of the maedel’s if you can give them a ride home tonight.” And with a wink, Timothy motioned for his bruder to join them.
When they reached the barn, they were all laughing over one of Tim’s tall tales.
On the Ninth Day of Christmas . . .
Salted Caramel Peanut Butter Kisses
Ingredients:
24 vanilla caramels
1/2 cup butter, softened
3/4 cup creamy peanut butter
1/3 cup sugar
1/3 cup light brown sugar, packed
1 large egg
2 tablespoons milk
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1-1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
Ground sea salt
Instructions:
1. Preheat oven to 350°
2. Using hot knife, cut caramels in half
3. Mix butter and peanut butter until well blended
4. Add sugars; beat until fluffy
5. Add egg, milk and vanilla; mix well
6. Stir together flour, baking soda and salt
7. Gradually add flour mixture, mixing thoroughly
8. Refrigerate for at least 1 hour
9. Shape dough into 1-inch balls
10. Bake 8-10 minutes or until lightly browned
11. Immediately press a caramel piece into center of each cookie
12. Sprinkle with sea salt
13. Return to oven for 1-2 minutes
14. Remove from cookie sheet to wire rack
15. Cool completely
— TEN —
Katie watched through the side window of the bakery at the town square while she wiped down tables in the customer area.
One by one, children were making their way to the Santa who sat in the midst of an elaborately decorated North Pole. For the past few weeks, the North Pole had taken over the park that usually occupied the center of town.
From here it was impossible to tell who was who, but there was something about the crowd . . . a joy that simply glowed—from the long line of excited children—to their happy parents.
While their customers—including Mrs. Mueller and three of her neighbors, who came in every day to enjoy the Sweet Shop's treats. . . and a bit of gossip—spoke in hushed tones behind her, Katie slowly wiped down each table, and watched as each child took their turn to sit on Santa's lap.
Even though every visit was essentially the same, she could spot little differences in each one.
One child reached up to whisper into Santa's ear, while another was clearly pronouncing their wish loudly enough for even those in the back of the line to hear—judging from what sounded like delighted laughter from the parents . . . and Santa's helpers.
As the line rounded a curve, a child she would recognize anywhere came into sight. She moved closer to the window to be certain, but her improved view only confirmed what she had already known; the child was little Bobby Davis, and if she wasn't mistaken, the person who held his hand—while he bounced as high as a kangaroo—was his big bruder, Travis.
She watched as they moved slowly forward in the line—the tables forgotten for the moment—watching Bobby skip forward each time they moved and then, when they stood still, the bouncing resumed.
At one point, Bobby must have caught sight of Santa because she was certain he bounced higher than Travis' head for a moment. When he touched back down, he jumped closer to his bruder and shouted something. She couldn't tell what it was, but it must have been loud, because several parents around them in line turned to smile at the young boy and his big bruder.
“Katie, where are you. . . Oh, there you are.” Freida's voice startled Katie, and she reluctantly turned from the window.
“What is it, Freida?”
“I just wanted to remind you that Mr. Mentink is going to be here in a few minutes to pick up the other half of today's order . . .” She looked around the customer area and then leaned in to whisper behind her hand to Katie. “The one for Santa.”
Katie wanted to laugh, but she restrained herself. One time . . .
Freida had announced the same message last year when the town treasurer had been on his way over to pick up the afternoon portion of their daily cookie order for Santa's helpers.
The Sweet Shop had been full of children and there had evidently been a few awkward questions from one of their more precocious customers.
Katie had been in the kitchen at the time and apparently Freida had said something wrong, because Katie remembered hearing a scream and the voices of several children raised in argument before Freida had burst through the kitchen door, her face white as a sheet.
Katie had dusted off her hands and rushed out front as quickly as possible. The children's parents had already managed to calm them down, but Freida had refused to set foot outside the kitchen until after Christmas.
“Bradley Post still sticks his tongue out at me every time he sees me.”
“Bradley Post is seven, Freida.”
“I know that. And it isn't as if I really ruined anyone's Christmas, but—”
“I know.” Katie patted her freind on the shoulder as she handed over the wet cloth and turned to go behind the counter, taking one last look at the line of children as she did so.
They had made their way to the front and little Bobby was running over to Santa, practically throwing himself in the jolly man's lap—while Travis stood at the front of the line waiting for his bruder.
Even from so far away, Katie could see the worry etched into Travis' face. It took no more than a moment to realize what he was worried over.
Mrs. Simpkins paid him enough to pay the mortgage on their house and the other monthly bills they had, but Katie doubted there was enough left over to do much more than buy groceries for the family.
And even though the entire town had practically adopted the little family, bringing them food nearly every day, Katie knew that would not help Travis to feel less guilty about having no money to buy Christmas gifts for his bruders and schweschder.
Here I have been worrying over finding time to finish the gifts for my own family—and Travis likely has nothing to give to his mother, or his bruders and schweschder.
Katie tried to think of something she could do, but it was two days till Christmas and would likely be too late at this point.
Ach! Why did I not think of this earlier?
She tried reminding herself that it was not exactly something that had kumme up between the two of them while they were working. And it was also a bit personal. It wasn't as if she'd had a gut reason to just ask him what he was buying everyone for Christmas.
But the worry settled in her stomach like a rock, piling on top of the worry over getting her own gifts finished . . . and getting everything done at the bakery.
Then she realized there was one who could do so much more than she ever could—one she could go to about it.
Dear Go
tt, only you have the power to help with this. There is no time for me to do anything about it and I know Travis cannot or he would not be worrying over it now.
Please provide for this precious family, dear Gott.
On the Tenth Day of Christmas . . .
Festive Sugar Cookies
Ingredients:
1 cup butter, softened
1 1/2 cups sugar
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 teaspoon pure almond extract
2 1/2 cups plain flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
Instructions:
1. Preheat oven to 350º
2. Line cookie sheets with parchment paper
3. Cream together butter and sugar until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes
4. Add egg and mix until well-combined
5. Stir in flour, baking powder, salt, and vanilla
6. Scoop cookie dough by the tablespoon full and roll into a ball
7. Place cookie dough onto baking sheet, spacing about 1½-inches to 2 inches apart
8. Lightly press each cookie down
9. Bake for 8-10 minutes or until lightly browned
Note: When cookies are cool, feel free to decorate—or not.
If you add frosting, set cookies aside to allow it to dry completely. Store in tightly covered container (wax paper between layers) up to 2 weeks.
— ELEVEN —
Friday began with light flurries, with the promise of a white Christmas for the inhabitants of Abbott Creek.
Katie rushed around the kitchen, working feverishly to make certain every last order was ready for pickup. They were only open until eleven and they were opening a half hour early to accommodate all of the customers who were picking up orders for Christmas.
“Katie, are we ready? Freida will be opening the door in five minutes.”
Even amidst the stress and worry of Christmas Eve, there was a great deal of relief within Katie for how different Amelia Simpkins sounded this morning.
