The Promise of an Angel (A Heaven On Earth 1)

by Ruth Reid

  “Forgive me, God, for putting him in that situation.” She placed the box on the dresser. “I shouldn’t have been so forward with a man not my husband.” Judith sighed.

  Her legs were icy to the touch and her knees knocked to a different cadence than her chattering teeth as she changed into a dry dress. She brought the wet garments out to the sitting room and spread them over a wooden rack in front of the woodstove, then proceeded into the kitchen.

  Mamm poured steaming water from the kettle into a cup. “Would you like some tea?”

  “Jah, please.”

  Her mother placed the drink on the table, and Judith forced the floating tea bag to the bottom of the cup with a spoon.

  “How did Samuel do with his exercises?” Judith sipped the hot liquid, feeling the warmth make its way to her stomach.

  “He was so tired after his morning with Andrew and then his therapy, that he fell asleep as soon as the man left.” Her mother dunked a tea bag into her cup of hot water.

  Judith blew gentle ripples over the steaming tea. “A man? I thought a woman came the last time.”

  “He said he was filling in today.” Mamm shrugged. “I hope the exercises help. I’m sure they will cost plenty.”

  This was the first time Judith had heard anything mentioned about the medical expenses. She studied Mamm’s expression. Mulling over the hospital costs in her mind, no doubt. Samuel’s accident had taken its toll on her too.

  Martha entered the kitchen then, with a basket of eggs. Teeth chattering, she placed the basket on the counter, then tugged at her wet dress. “I suppose I should eat more so the wind doesn’t blow me away.” She swept the fallen strands of hair away from her face and eyed Judith. “I should think you’d want to fast a few meals.”

  Judith glanced at her mother, expecting to hear Mamm rebuke Martha for such a worldly, not to mention unkind, comment. But her mother continued to stare into her cup, oblivious. Judith stood. That her sister was far prettier than she was easy to see by anyone’s standards—but she didn’t have to sit here and listen to her jabs. She placed her cup in the sink. “I’m going to look in on Samuel.”

  The door creaked. Not wanting to awaken him, Judith eased it open just wide enough to squeeze inside.

  Samuel’s lids fluttered. He brought his hand from under the blankets and rubbed his eyes. “Is it morning?”

  Judith tiptoed to the bedside. “You can sleep longer.” She sat in the chair next to his bed and combed her fingers through his hair.

  He stirred again. “I’m not tired. The man told me to close my eyes and dream that I was running.”

  Judith ran her hand along his cheek. “And how fast were you running?”

  He yawned. “First I couldn’t stand, but a bright light made me try harder, and before long I could.” He stretched his arms over his head. “I heard singing, but I couldn’t understand the words.”

  Judith gulped. “Tell me what the man said.”

  “He told me to believe I was running.” He frowned. “My legs wouldn’t move, so how could I believe?”

  Judith stood, went to the foot of the bed, and lifted the covers. She touched his feet, and heat rose off the surface of his legs and penetrated her skin. “Did your legs feel warm when he touched you?” She eyed him closely. “Do you feel how hot they are nau?”

  He shook his head slightly, and his mouth turned down into a frown.

  Judith pulled the covers back over his feet. “What did the man look like?”

  “Like a doktah in a white coat.”

  “Is that all you remember? Could you look into his eyes? What color were they?”

  He shrugged. “Bloh, I guess.”

  She scooted the chair closer and leaned toward him. “How tall was he?”

  Samuel’s face crinkled. “Big, like David.” His lips trembled. “Why?”

  “No reason.” She leaned back into the chair. “I was just curious.” She waited until he settled. “Did he say if he planned to kumm back?”

  “Nay.”

  Judith tapped his hand. “Drauwa God, Samuel.”

  “That’s what he said too.”

  Judith tilted her head to the side. “Really, the man said that?”

  “He also told me about Samuel in the Bible. How God called to him when he was young. But I told him I knew that.”

  She stood and kissed his forehead. “You close your eyes and see yourself run some more. I will bring you supper when it’s ready.” She turned to leave.

  “Judith.”

  She turned back. “Jah?”

  “I want to be like Andrew when I grow up. Do you like the furniture he builds?”

  She smiled. “Very much.”

  He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say more, but then he snapped it shut.

  “Is there something else?” She returned to his bedside.

  “Do you think that I’ll walk again?”

  “Jah, Ich do.” She stroked his cheek with the back of her hand. “Remember when I told you in the hospital that I saw an angel?”

  His eyes widened. “Jah.”

  “I think if you close your eyes, you’ll see one too.”

  Samuel snapped his lids shut.

  She tiptoed to the door and looked back. “I think you already have,” she whispered.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The freezing rain left a thin icy coating over the puddles in the furrows of the muddy field. Judith sidestepped what wet areas she could avoid on her way to the orchard. After Samuel woke and the two of them shared a cup of hot cider, she decided to pick more apples to make a batch of cider for Sunday’s singing.

  She wished she had worn her gloves. The wind carried a light spray of sleet, and picking the wet apples left her hands stiff. She emptied the apron full she’d collected into the basket and paused to warm her cupped hands with her breath.

  Andrew’s words had stayed with her throughout the day.

  While she did her chores, while she sat next to the woodstove reading her Bible, and even now the promise she’d made to pray that her heart wasn’t deceived remained on her mind.

  “Lord, forgive me. I was stubborn when Andrew asked about Tobias. I know after reading Your word why he was concerned. Satan is a great deceiver. Show me if I’ve been wrong, but I believe Tobias was sent by You.”

  Judith picked another handful of apples off the tree and placed them into the basket.

  “God, Andrew is a man after Your heart. His desire is to serve You in ministry, but unless he’s married, he will not be chosen. Please show him how to love again, and honor him with a good wife.”

  Judith wasn’t expecting the words of her prayer to sting, yet asking God to give Andrew courage to pursue marriage pricked her heart as though it were a pincushion. Perhaps her forwardness had confused Andrew. She thought, by the way he had lingered, that he wanted to kiss her, and yet he apologized. She turned at the sound of twigs snapping underfoot.

  “Mamm sent me out here to help you.” Martha crossed her arms and glanced around the orchard. “I don’t know why I have to pick apples for your singing.”

  “You don’t have to help.” Judith emptied her load into the basket. “I’m almost finished anyway. And I’m not picking only for the singing. With the wedder changing, the trees need to be picked clean for apple butter.”

  “Levi plans to attend.”

  Don’t take her bait. Judith continued picking without replying.

  “Won’t that bother you?” Martha persisted.

  Judith yanked hard on a stubborn branch. “It’s open to all the youth.”

  “I’m sure he wants to see me.”

  Judith tossed an apple into the basket and turned to Martha. “What have I done to you? Why do you always want to hurt me?” She sighed. “Go on back to the house. I don’t need your help.”

  Martha shrugged. “I just wanted you to know that if Levi attends, it isn’t to spend time with you. He loves me.”

  Judith sealed her lips to keep from saying
something she’d regret. Once her sister was out of sight, Judith sank to the ground and wrapped her arms around her knees. She had paid heed to not speak her thoughts, but that didn’t keep her from sinning as animosity festered within her soul.

  The dried branches snapped again, and Judith looked up.

  Tobias knelt beside her. “Your soul shall find rest after you lay your burdens down.” He placed his hand on her shoulder. “You were not created to carry this yoke, but to praise the Lord for the work His blood completed. Search your heart, and you will find those matters that condemn the soul.”

  “You’re telling me to forgive them. But I don’t know how,”

  Judith whispered.

  “Strength comes from the Lord. Was not Jesus betrayed?”

  Judith nodded.

  “He who knows your pain has overcome the world, so that in Him you may find peace during times of tribulation.”

  Judith bowed her head and wept. Her tribulation wasn’t anything in comparison to how Jesus suffered.

  Tobias patted her shoulder, then stood. “I will leave you to talk with your Savior.”

  Judith looked up, and Tobias was gone.

  “Please forgive me, Lord. I’ve allowed my heart to become tainted by bitterness. I want to forgive Levi and Martha. I want to be free of the sin I carry . . . Show me how to lay my burdens at Your feet, Jesus. I will follow You all the days of my life.”

  Inside the Fischers’ new barn, the church service concluded. With the weather turning cold, instead of eating outside, they would set up the tables inside the barn. Judith was grateful that Samuel was home to attend. She left him seated near the tables to go inside the house to help with the food preparations.

  She stopped inside the entry when she heard her name mentioned.

  “Judith is confused, and we need to pray for her,” one woman said.

  “It’s best to keep the children away from her, though. Until she stops with her storytelling,” another added.

  “My niece is a fine girl,” Aenti Lilly said. “She feels enough guilt for yelling at Samuel while he was on the roof.”

  Judith cleared her throat and walked into the kitchen. It was nice that Aenti stood up for her, but the majority of the lot wished to condemn her. She glanced around the kitchen, thankful not to see her mother. “Where’s Mamm?”

  Aenti Lilly’s eyes widened. “I have a stack of plates you can take out to the barn.” She picked up the dishes and thrust them toward Judith. “Go on nau. The men should have the tables set up.” Aenti Lilly waved her hand toward the door. “Your mamm is getting more preserves from the cellar.”

  Judith took the dishes. The air outside wasn’t as cold as the atmosphere in the kitchen anyway.

  Andrew walked up to the table as she set the plates down. “Will you meet me at the river? I’d like to talk with you.”

  Judith glanced around to see if anyone was within earshot. “When the meal is over,” she replied. After hearing the comments from the women, she wasn’t hungry. But if they were not at the meal, people would become suspicious. Andrew didn’t need to become a victim of scandal. It was best to meet later, while the men were involved in their fellowship and the women were inside cleaning up.

  Andrew had his plate cleaned in no time. He turned down sweets, saying he was full. As a few others left the table, he shared a smile with Judith and then disappeared. Judith found her escape from the crowd a few minutes later.

  Once she entered the apple grove, Andrew stepped out from behind a tree and startled her. “I thought you said the river,” she said, clutching her chest.

  “I was waiting for you.”

  They meandered for several minutes, Andrew kicking a stone along the path. He stopped. “Did you pray about what we talked about?”

  Judith studied him a moment. “I did.”

  “And?” His brows rose.

  “I believe in my heart that God sent Tobias. I still don’t know why.” She chewed her bottom lip as his stare held her captive.

  “And the rock?”

  “I found it while I was sitting by the river. I tossed it into the water, and the next time I saw Tobias—” She looked Andrew in the eye. “You’re the only friend I have, but if I say any more—”

  “Stop trying to protect me.” He reached for her hand. “Tell me, please.”

  She took his gentle hand squeeze as a prompt to continue. “Tobias gave it back to me. Only . . . it glowed.”

  He didn’t look alarmed by her statement. Although his eyes did widen for a brief time, he nodded, encouraging her to continue.

  “He told me that’s how God sees His children when their hearts are pure.” She held her breath, waiting for his reaction.

  “I understand why it’s important to you.”

  “You believe me?” An unexpected ease washed over her, and she blew out her held breath.

  He smiled. “I don’t have any doubts about you, Judith.”

  Thank You, Father, for giving me Andrew.

  This time she kicked at the dirt. “I wanted to tell you, but I feared you wouldn’t believe me.”

  He squeezed her hand, then released it. “I’m glad you trusted me.”

  Judith lowered her head.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “People are gossiping. I’m to blame for their sin.”

  “Nay, nett so.” He crossed his arms and blew out a breath. “They can choose not to pass judgment.”

  She welcomed Andrew’s friendship, his acceptance of her, but she was to blame—he knew that. “It’s about not believing me,” she whispered.

  He brushed his hand on her cheek. “Let God deal with them.”

  “But—”

  He pressed his fingers over her lips and shook his head. “Leave it to God.”

  She closed her eyes and nodded. Cast all your cares . . . A quiver settled in her core at the thought of Andrew’s kindness.

  Andrew removed his hand. “We should get back.”

  Judith nodded, and they turned to walk back to the barn. “Denki.”

  “For what?”

  “Being my friend.”

  He chuckled. “That isn’t a chore, you know.”

  Judith glanced at his sheepish grin and smiled. Andrew Lapp was her friend. And friends didn’t hold back the truth from each other.

  As they reached the side of the barn, her conscience would no longer suppress her guilt. “I have a confession.” As she gazed into his eyes, their sparkle invited her to continue. “I knew Levi had left . . . when you kissed me.”

  When he swallowed his reply, she could see he was stunned. “I’m sorry. I should have told you. I should have—”

  “Andrew.” It wasn’t so much the bishop’s tone, but seeing his white-knuckle grip on the Bible that hinted of a pending sermon.

  “We can talk more tonight,” Andrew whispered without looking at Judith. He walked away from her and met his father. When the bishop demanded to know his son’s whereabouts, Judith hoped Andrew wouldn’t be forbidden to attend the evening singing.

  Andrew followed his parents to the buggy in silence. He glanced at the Fischers’ house before climbing in, but Judith had already gone inside. A smile spread across his face. Judith’s response to kissing him had nothing to do with Levi.

  “I didn’t see you eat much, Andrew,” Mamm said once they were en route home.

  “I ate plenty.”

  “Did you like the yummasetti?”

  “Jah,” he replied. Although in truth he’d virtually inhaled his portion—the sweetened meat in the casserole wasn’t in his mouth long enough for him to savor the taste.

  His father’s silence tore at his heart. He had seen Andrew and Judith walking back to the barn together. It didn’t matter that they were both of courting age—his father the bishop viewed Judith’s outspokenness about the angel as defiance to the Ordnung. Andrew had seen his father poring over the laws several times during the past week. Fearing the bishop was preparing a formal rebuke of Judith,
Andrew had prayed for his father to seek God’s wisdom in the matter.

  His father parked the buggy next to the house. “You have chores to complete before attending the singing this evening.”

  Andrew nodded. He wasn’t sure why his father brought up doing chores. It wasn’t their custom to work on Sunday except to tend to the needs of the animals, and he had never once neglected to milk the cows or feed the livestock.

  Andrew changed from his Sunday black vest and pants into his work clothes and went out to the barn. He milked the cows, fed the calves, and tossed a bale of hay over the fence for the horses. He was priming the handle of the water pump when his father came out of the house, his Bible tucked under his arm.

  His father walked over to Andrew. “You’ve been spending a lot of time at the Fischers’ haus.”

  “Jah, Samuel and I are still working on projects.” He splashed water on his face and around the back of his neck.

  “Have you other motives?”

  Andrew kept his focus on the water collecting in his cupped hands. After washing, he stood upright and towel-dried his face. “Samuel shows promise of becoming a carpenter. I want to encourage him.” He kept his tone even. If he appeared too eager, his father would suspect his interest was in more than just teaching Samuel the cabinetmaking trade.

  His father studied him. It seemed apparent there were accusations seeded in the bishop’s thoughts, yet he hadn’t shaken his finger yet, demanding repentance.

  Andrew prepared his defense. He and Judith were both of age to court, to marry should they choose. Lord, I don’t want to be forced to choose between pleasing my father and continuing my friendship with Judith.

  “I’ve made arrangements for you to escort the King girl home from the singing.”

  Andrew lowered the towel from his face. When he looked up, his father had laid his hand over the pages of the opened Bible. Andrew waited, assuming his father planned to read the scriptures pertaining to children obeying their parents.

  His father closed the book. “The Bible is clear about not being unequally yoked. You will accompany Clare King tonight. Her parents expect you to bring her home.”