She unwrapped the ornament and touched its contrasting smooth and rough surfaces, a red rose with white snow. A flower blooming in midwinter. Was the client who gave her the ornament the person who had told Ivy she should focus on blooming where she was planted? Ivy didn’t like that saying because it felt like a cop-out, a reason not to try to improve one’s situation, a reason not to fight for who one really was. Just because someone was born on a farm didn’t mean she shouldn’t live and work in a big city or live in an Englisch historic home and plan parties. But maybe—
“Hallo? Is someone up there? I see light.”
Arlan. She wouldn’t mind talking to him about this, but she was drawn to him, so his presence only muddied the water.
“Ya, it’s me, Ivy.” Maybe he’d go back to whatever he was doing.
He was climbing the ladder. “You ended practice real quick. Is something wrong?”
She hesitated, but the truth was, she needed to talk to him. “No. And yes.” She looked at the ornament in her hands. “I don’t know.”
“Apparently we each hid items in the haymow on our farms.” Arlan crossed over to her.
When he’d told her nearly three months’ back that he used to hide his books, it hadn’t surprised her. They were alike in many ways.
He knelt next to her. “What’s this?”
Ivy handed him the rose ornament. “My forbidden stash of Christmas decorations.”
“It reminds me of some of the words in the song we just sang.” He turned it over in his hand.
“Ya. One of the clients I cleaned for gave it to me a few years ago after I admired it. She said she’d bought the ornament on a trip to Switzerland many years ago and since my ancestors were Swiss, I should have it. I didn’t dare tell the sweet woman that the Amish don’t allow any Christmas decorations at home.”
“But you’re getting to enjoy it now.” He handed the glass rose back to her.
She took it and held it up by its string to twirl in the lamplight so that the snow glittered. “Guess I am. No judgments about it?”
He shook his head, and a corner of his mouth turned upward. “I’m done with that.”
Nice, and he seemed so much more at peace. Where was her peace?
He pointed at the ornament. “So the rose is Christ.”
“Ya. And the winter is how dark the world was before He was born into such a humble circumstance.”
“It is for freedom that Christ set us free.”
Her eyes met his. “Amen.”
Suddenly she knew what was really bothering her. Freedom in Christ was enough. She could be her true self and bloom here with the precious love of her family and community. It wasn’t perfect, but it was hardly the rough beginnings that Christ had. What could the world offer her that was more fulfilling than what she already had? If she lived Englisch, she would be free to be her real self but only in some ways. In other ways she’d be giving up her ability to be all of her real self. “After Daed died, I boxed up a lot of things and shoved them into the back of my closet, trying not to feel the hurt of all we’d lost. But in doing that I also boxed up parts of who I am. Then I started believing this Amish life isn’t who I am, but it is—at least more of who I am than I realized.”
Questions flooded her.
Was love about sacrificing part of who a person really was in order to give to those he or she loved? Isn’t that what Christ did when He came to earth? Where would any of us be if He hadn’t sacrificed part of who He was?
Would leaving the Amish cause her to have stronger bonds with Christ, with others, and with herself by the end of her life?
Would an Englisch life put her more in touch with who God created her to be?
She didn’t know what she’d do instead of party planning if she chose to stay. That career wasn’t the point. It never had been. What she longed for, what she sought after, was full authenticity with herself and who God created her to be. The rest would eventually fall into place—whether it was event planning or something she couldn’t yet imagine.
Nineteen
Arlan stood on the porch of his childhood home, studying his parents. The mid-December wind cut through his coat as if it didn’t exist. His driver had the car running, staying warm while he waited for Arlan.
He’d known this visit would be difficult, but he’d expected to be allowed inside and to be able to talk to his family for a while. Instead, his Daed stood his ground, refusing to let Arlan go inside, and so far his Daed wasn’t hearing anything he had to say. Magda hadn’t come, unwilling to hear Daed’s hurtful words or to watch Mamm struggle with his harsh decrees. She also feared that, despite all else, they would try to make her stay.
Arlan’s hands were deep in his coat pockets, and he could feel the slips of paper he’d carefully printed information on. How would he get these to any of his siblings?
“You need to leave.” His Daed’s voice held no mercy or understanding.
The pain in Arlan’s chest grew worse by the minute. Who was this man looking back at him? The sense of betrayal and abandonment bore down on him. How did a man turn his back on his children so easily?
“Daed, I’ve worked beside you my entire life, helped maintain and make this place what it is, and because I’ve chosen a different Plain order, you’ll disown me?”
“I have nothing else to say on the matter. You disobeyed me. You ran off with your sister, embarrassing your Mamm and me in front of everyone. God said to honor your parents. I hope you reap all you’ve sown.”
“His Word also says, fathers, do not provoke your children to anger. It says to be kind and gentle and forbearing. Magda won’t even set foot on this place for fear of what you’ll say or do. Open your eyes, Daed.”
“They are open, and I see you. You’re manipulative and deceitful.”
“Okay.” Arlan sighed. “I’ll leave. But I want you to know that we can have a good relationship despite what the church says. You have to decide whether I’m worthy to you as a human and a son or whether you’ll let the church tell you who we’ll be for the rest of our lives. Whatever you decide, know that I’m open to your reaching out at any point, even thirty years from now.”
“Your life is open to rebellion and the world. That’s what it’s open to, so just leave me out of it.” Daed went to the front door and clutched the handle.
Daed motioned for Mamm to follow him, but she stood firm. “Is Magda really okay?”
“Ya, Mamm. She is. God provided a perfect place for her, and she’s doing well. She said to tell you that she loves both of you and that she misses you, Mamm. But trust is broken, and she won’t come here until she feels safe and respected.”
“She wants respect?” Daed’s voice boomed. “For what? What has she done that deserves respect?”
“She’s not asking you to think highly of her. She’s asking you to respect that she’s a sinner the same as you, and she’s asking you to respect God’s grace toward her. That’s all, Daed—respect God’s grace toward her.”
“It’s my job as a parent to hold my children accountable,” Daed said.
“You hold your children accountable every working minute of every day for not being perfect, but God doesn’t ask that. He said, “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.” Arlan drew a breath. “Rest unto our souls, Daed. Because legalism and perfectionism are heavy and exhausting.”
“The Englisch are all about the mercy of God. You want to be like them, eh? You know so much, and you’re full of yourself. Now go.”
Mamm closed the gap and hugged him. “Ich lieb du.” She held him tight.
“I love you too, Mamm. That won’t change. Not ever.”
Daed grabbed Mamm by the arm. “Go inside. No
w.”
Mamm opened the front door. “Kinder. Kumm.”
His siblings rushed out, and Daed looked too shocked to respond. Arlan hugged them and told them he loved them, and he secretly passed the slips of paper to as many of them as he could. It had the phone numbers and addresses for the Zooks’ farm and Greene’s Pharmacy as well as Jules’s cell number. He couldn’t take his siblings with him, but he could be sure the older ones had a way to call for help if they needed it.
His Daed clapped his hands. “Inside. Everyone.” He pointed at Arlan. “Get off my property.”
Daed didn’t seem to have noticed the pieces of paper. Arlan waved to his brothers and sisters as he descended the steps and got into the car. It was hard to breathe. Harder still to keep tears from forming.
The driver said nothing, and the car easily covered mile after mile of narrow back roads. Even though the trip from his home to the Zook farm didn’t take very long by vehicle, he couldn’t wait to get out of the car and get to his room above the carriage house. He needed time alone, maybe weeks of it, as his emotions churned like clouds on a stormy day.
Too many thoughts assaulted him and scattered before he could focus on just one. Hurt, anger, and grief threatened to suffocate him. How would he live with himself, knowing he’d left his siblings behind? But how could he go back there to live? He’d burned that bridge.
The driver remained silent as he went up the long gravel driveway to the Zook farm and pulled in behind another car that was in front of the Zook home. Arlan paid the driver and got out.
Ivy was getting out of the other vehicle. Where was her coat? Their eyes locked, and he knew she was struggling too.
He took off his coat, walked to her, and put it around her shoulders.
She gazed up, her blue eyes brimming with tears. “I told Tegan and the landlady that I’m not leaving the Amish.”
The news stabbed a knife into his heart and yet also elated him, and he couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around her.
She shuddered. “I feel sick about talking Clara into accepting me as a tenant and then going back on my word.”
They were both trembling.
A few tears escaped and ran down his face. “I told my Daed that Magda and I are not returning.”
She drew a shaky breath and held him. “What are we doing?” Ivy whispered.
“I don’t know. I really don’t.”
Twenty
Holly studied the handsome man as they knelt in front of each other. His eyes held kindness, shining bright in the flickering candlelight. His hand was warm on hers. Was this a dream? She never, ever wanted to forget one detail of their wedding day.
The Zook house was lit by dozens of evergreen-scented candles. This twentieth day of December was gray and snowy. But inside her home that was packed with hundreds of Amish and a few Englischers from Greene’s, Holly couldn’t imagine anything more vibrant and warm. How long they’d yearned for this moment, their hands together in front of Holly’s bishop, their wedding vows said, and the closing prayer still echoing in her mind.
Benuel finished the prayer. Josh and she rose and faced the gathering of their beloved friends and family. The bridal party—their side sitters—beamed at them, some wiping tears of joy. Holly spotted Magda on one of the benches. She was grimacing.
Labor pains.
Before sunrise this morning Magda had come to Holly and let her know that she was having painful contractions. But Magda wanted to see the wedding if she could. Even though Esther, the Amish midwife, had been invited to the wedding as a friend, Holly called her to verify she was coming today. Esther had arrived early to check on Magda’s progress.
The plan was for Magda to go to the room above the carriage house when her labor pains became more intense. There she would have privacy from the many visitors who would be in this home until sundown. Judging by Magda’s face, Holly was sure she would head there soon.
Holly and Joshua were ushered into the parlor, and the next half hour was filled by chatting with some of the guests while family and friends in the next room rearranged the rows of benches, turning some into tables and using the others as seats. Josh and Holly didn’t have to help with the work for the rest of today, and the festivities would go on until after sundown. But tomorrow they’d make up for it—waking before dawn to start washing the tablecloths and napkins, bringing furniture back into the house and putting it in place, and taking care of the gazillion other things people had to do after hosting hundreds of people for a wedding and two meals.
Holly spotted Jules, Lyle, and Brandon working their way through the throng of Amish people toward her and Josh. Every room in the house was bursting with people. How many Amish were in the barn, staying warm and out of the way until their time to eat?
“Holly.” Jules had her arms out as she approached. “Congratulations.” Holly pulled Jules into a tight hug.
Lyle winked at Holly as Jules released the embrace. “We’re thrilled for you, kiddo.”
Brandon grinned. “My Amish little sister, all grown up and married.”
Josh put his hand on Holly’s arm, grinning. “Thank you all for everything you’ve done for her. I’m so sorry she can’t continue working for Greene’s.”
Lyle gave a slow nod. “We understand.” He leaned in closer. “Just so you know, Holly Noelle, you’ll always have a place at Greene’s if your new bishop ever changes his mind.”
Jules glanced at a text on her phone. “I’m sorry to have to leave, but there’re some problems at the clinic and my team needs help. You’ll call me later to update me on Magda, right?”
“I will.” Holly hugged Jules.
Lyle shifted from one foot to the other. “We all rode together, so we need to go too, plus”—he pointed out the window—“it’s snowing again, and the weather report says there’s quite a bit of snow on the way. The roads will be okay for buggies, I think.”
“Ya, horses and buggies are much better equipped for winter travel. Besides that, the Amish guests can make themselves a pallet and stay overnight if it gets too bad. That’s part of the reason we didn’t mind having the wedding so late in December.” She hugged Lyle and Brandon. “Thanks, everyone, for being here.”
As they said their goodbyes, an aunt came into the parlor, smiling. “It’s time.” She held out her arm, and Josh took it. Her aunt was honored with seating the bride and groom at their table today, and then she would return for the other side sitters, each one entering the room in a set order.
The long table, which was big enough for the bride and groom and their side sitters, was covered in a crisp white cloth with blue trim. Josh was seated at the head of the table, and Holly was to his left. Next to her was Ivy, and next to Josh was Arlan, because all side sitters had to be single. Besides, Josh and Arlan had become close.
Bishop Benuel was hoping Arlan would join their Old Order church and thought that Arlan being at the bride-and-groom table would help him feel like a part of the community. Holly would pair him with Ivy in the wedding games as the day proceeded. There was definitely a spark between the two of them, and Holly wanted to nurture it.
The sound of glass breaking echoed through the room, and Holly started to get up, but Josh put his hand over hers. “You’ve done enough for today.” He winked.
Holly relaxed, glad for time off her feet. The wedding preparations had been a huge undertaking that included moving most of the furniture out of the house and into the carriage house yesterday, cooking for the past several days and finishing a dozen tasks, like sewing and cleaning. Today had begun at three in the morning with milking cows, fixing breakfast, and finishing up preparation of the house and food for about four hundred guests.
Women set large platters of food on their table—a bounteous feast of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, cooked celery, bowls of fruit, platters of cheese, and homemade
bread.
With each bite Holly tasted the love from a community of married women—aunts, cousins, and church members—who’d cooked today’s feast. Guests ate in rounds, and while a few tables were still being served, one of Josh’s side sitters began singing. Everyone around the wedding table joined in first, and then others added their voices.
She and Josh soon cut their beautiful wedding cake, and the women servers also sliced or dipped other desserts and filled mugs with coffee or hot chocolate. The single men at the wedding table began singing various songs, and everyone joined in. Then Ivy and Arlan got the wedding games started. They played a lot of guessing games, some while blindfolded. Laughter filled the house, and Holly’s cheeks hurt from nonstop grinning. The carolers stood in front of the large window in the parlor next to the roaring fire and sang while the snow came down in huge flakes.
Holly’s heart soared as she and Josh sat on the couch, watching and listening, and it seemed she had hardly blinked before the guests were leaving. More than half of the people had said their goodbyes before the evening meal, as was the tradition. This was a time for more intimate friendships and relatives. Her aunts served heated leftovers, cold cuts, cheese, and more homemade bread, and, of course, church spread, the peanut butter concoction the Amish loved.
Winter’s short day caught her off guard. It was dark now. The midwife, Esther, had come in from the carriage house several times throughout the day to update Holly on how Magda was doing. But the last time she had updated Holly was more than two hours ago, when she’d said that Magda was doing well and was almost at the pushing phase of labor.
Holly moved to the window and looked toward the carriage house. The white, snowy landscape of the Zook farm looked peaceful and clean. Beautiful. Huge flakes were still coming down from the dark, cloudy sky. How many inches had fallen already?
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