Looking for a Miracle

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  “ Humph! You don’t live at our house, and you don’t see how Mom takes Rebekah’s side on every little thing. Why, just this morning, Rebekah and me were having a disagreement about her relationship with Daniel, and Mom told me to quit bothering Rebekah.” Nadine folded her arms. “Why doesn’t she get after Rebekah for her negative attitude instead of always scolding me?”

  “I don’t know the answer to that, but I do know that it must be hard for your sister to be confined to either her wheelchair or those rigid leg braces and crutches she sometimes uses.” Mary Ellen studied Nadine’s serious face. “I know it’s not easy for you, but maybe you should try a little harder to have more understanding for Rebekah instead of arguing with her about things that don’t really matter or feeling resentful because she receives a little more attention than you do at times.” She paused a moment to gauge Nadine’s reaction, but the young woman just sat staring at the table.

  “Your folks love you and Simon as much as they do Rebekah,” Mary Ellen continued. “And I’m sure it hurts them when any of their kinner has a disagreement. So won’t you try a little harder to get along with your sister and be more understanding?”

  Tears welled in Nadine’s eyes, and she nodded slowly. “I’ll try, but I promise you, it won’t be easy.”

  “I’ll be praying for both you and Rebekah,” Mary Ellen said.

  “Danki.” Nadine scooted off the bench. “Guess I’ll go visit with some of my friends for a while.”

  A few minutes after Nadine left, Mary Ellen noticed that Mama Mim was heading her way. Maybe she would have a talk with her about Rebekah’s gloomy mood and see what she had to say.

  CHAPTER 19

  Rebekah sat on the front porch, wrapped in a heavy shawl and breathing in the crisp, cool, afternoon air. The sun peeked out between fluffy white clouds, casting a golden tint on the gently rolling hills. A light dusting of powdery snow rested on most of the trees.

  A group of boys played tug-of-war in the driveway, and a few men stood on the lawn, visiting. The rest of the men must be out in the barn, Rebekah decided. She was glad Daniel wasn’t among those who were still outside, for she didn’t want to face him.

  She released the brake on her wheelchair and rolled down the wooden ramp. Up the path leading to her greenhouse she went, feeling the need for some solitude. A time to think and enjoy all the plants might help get her mind off Daniel.

  When Rebekah entered the greenhouse a few minutes later, she lit a gas lantern so she would have more light. It was chilly in the first section of the building, so she added a few logs to the burning embers inside the woodstove, thankful that Dad had placed them within easy reach.

  Once the fire was going well, Rebekah moved into the glassed-in section of her greenhouse. Between the kerosene heater and the solar panels, this area was always plenty warm. She rolled her wheelchair up and down the aisles, drinking in the rich colors and fragrant smells coming from the variety of plants.

  “If this is the only miracle You ever give me, Lord, then I’ll learn to be content,” Rebekah whispered. Even as she said the words, a feeling of emptiness settled over her like a heavy fog. Was the greenhouse really enough? Could she learn to be content?

  She reached for a lacy-edged, pink African violet and held the pot as though it were a baby. She thought about Aunt Grace, who would be holding a real baby in just a few months, and about Mary Ellen, recently married. Unlike her aunt or cousin, Rebekah’s fingers might often caress a delicate plant but never a husband’s bearded face. Like as not, her hands would change potting soil, not dirty diapers. As much as she enjoyed working with plants, they weren’t the same as a living, breathing human being, who could offer love in return.

  Rebekah startled when she heard the front door of the greenhouse creak open, then snap shut. “Who’s there?” she called out, drawing in a quick breath.

  “It’s me, Rebekah—Aunt Mim.”

  Rebekah expelled her breath, feeling a sense of relief that it wasn’t Daniel.

  “I’m back here!”

  Aunt Mim poked her head through the doorway and smiled. “I haven’t been in here since your opening day. I see you’ve made quite a few changes.”

  Rebekah nodded. “ I’m selling more items now. Daniel Beachy gave me plenty of good ideas, and all the wooden items you see are his handmade creations.”

  “So your business is doing well then?”

  “Better than I ever expected.” Rebekah placed the African violet back on the shelf. “Of course, winter’s almost here, and I won’t have nearly as many customers now as I did in the summer.”

  “No, I suppose not,” her aunt agreed. “But then, a young woman can certainly find other ways to fill the long winter hours.”

  Rebekah shrugged. “I suppose I can always quilt or do some other type of handwork. And there’s the column I write for The Budget. That keeps me busy.”

  Aunt Mim gave her a wide smile and moved closer to the wheelchair. “It wasn’t sewing or writing news about our community I had in mind, Rebekah.”

  “What did you have in mind for someone like me?” Rebekah asked with a catch in her voice.

  Aunt Mim pulled out a wooden stool and sat down beside her. “I was thinking more about courting. I hear you have a suitor these days.”

  “Mary Ellen Hilty—I mean, Yoder. You are such a blabbermouth!”

  “Don’t be so hard on Mary Ellen,” Aunt Mim said softly. “She only cares about your happiness.”

  “Jah, well, she can care without meddling. I suppose she saw me come in here and asked you to have a talk with me.”

  Aunt Mim shook her head. “She shared her concerns, but it was my idea to speak with you.” She placed a gentle hand on Rebekah’s arm. “I believe I can help. I think you should hear my story.”

  “Your story?”

  “Jah.”

  “You used to read me stories when I was a kinner. Why do you think I need to hear one now?”

  “Because, sweet niece, I think my story might teach you something.”

  Rebekah leaned her head against the back of her wheelchair and closed her eyes. “I’m ready to hear your story.”

  “Once there was a young woman named Miriam Stoltzfus. She fell in love with her childhood sweetheart, and he broke her heart when he moved away and married someone else. Miriam became bitter and angry. She didn’t trust men and resolved never to marry. Miriam even blamed God for all her troubles. Her pupils at the one-room schoolhouse often talked behind her back, saying she had a heart of stone.”

  Rebekah nodded. She remembered hearing such talk.

  “And so,” Aunt Mim continued, “the bitter old-maid schoolteacher decided she could do everything in her own strength. She even forgot how to pray.

  “Then one day after school had been dismissed, she told her young niece that she would give her a ride home. A few minutes later after the child had gone outside to wait for her, Miriam heard a clap of thunder, then an awful, ear-piercing snap, followed by a scream. She rushed outside, only to find her favorite niece lying on the ground with the limb of a tree lying across her back.”

  Aunt Mim paused a moment as though it pained her to relive the past. After inhaling a deep breath, she finally continued. “The doctor said Rebekah’s spinal cord had been injured and that she would probably never walk again. Miriam’s heart was broken, and she blamed herself for the tragic accident.”

  Rebekah’s eyelids fluttered. “You—you blamed yourself? I never knew that.”

  Aunt Mim nodded, her eyes brimming with tears. “I’m the one who said you could wait outside, and I felt responsible for what had happened.”

  “I never faulted you at all, Aunt Mim.” Rebekah’s vision blurred with her own tears. It nearly broke her heart to think that her aunt had blamed herself.

  Aunt Mim touched Rebekah’s shoulder. “I know you didn’t. As a young girl, you were always so happy and accepting of your limitations. However, as you grew, I saw a change come on. You began to with
draw and seemed unsure of yourself.” She made a sweeping gesture at the room. “When you opened this new business, I thought things might be different. I was hoping you would see that your handicap couldn’t keep you from reaching your goals. I prayed that God would send the right man into your life so you would find the joy of being in love, too.”

  Rebekah slowly shook her head. “I couldn’t put the burden of my handicap on Daniel. It wouldn’t be fair.”

  Aunt Mim’s forehead wrinkled. “I think we’d better get back to my story.”

  “All right then. I’m all ears.” Rebekah leaned her head back again, but this time she kept her eyes open.

  “Well, Miriam Stoltzfus almost made a huge mistake. She met an English man, and after a while, he tried to talk her into leaving the Amish faith.”

  Rebekah’s mouth fell open. “An English man? He asked you to leave the faith?”

  “Jah. Do you remember when a reporter came into your hospital room shortly after the accident?”

  “The picture man?”

  “Right. The one who took your picture and put it in the English newspaper.”

  Rebekah squinted. “He’s the one who asked you to leave the faith?”

  Aunt Mim nodded. “We’d become friends, and there was a certain magnetism between us.” She sighed. “But despite my attraction to Nick, I knew I could never give up my Amish way of life—although I still wasn’t right with God at that time.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “I made the wisest decision of my life. I married Amos Hilty.” Aunt Mim crinkled her nose a bit. “When he first asked me to marry him, I turned him down.”

  “Didn’t you care for him?” Rebekah could hardly imagine such a thing. Aunt Mim and Uncle Amos seemed to be so much in love.

  Aunt Mim shrugged. “I didn’t give myself a chance to find out whether I cared or not. I was so certain that Amos would let me down just as my first beau had done. I didn’t think I could trust God to bring happiness into such an empty, bitter life as mine.”

  “But you did marry Uncle Amos, and you seem to be very happy.”

  Aunt Mim’s eyes filled with another set of tears, and she sniffed deeply as she swiped them off her cheeks. “Jah, I’m happy and have been for a good many years. You see, one day God showed me something very important.”

  “What was that?”

  “He let me know that my bitterness and blaming myself for so many things was of my own doing. He showed me that I could shed all my doubts and hurts from the past. God can do that for you, too, Rebekah. He wants you to be happy, and if you’ll only trust Him, He can work a miracle in your life, just as He did mine.”

  A miracle. Wasn’t that exactly what Rebekah had been looking for—an honest-to-goodness, true miracle from God? But could she take a leap of faith toward love and possibly marriage? She wanted to—more than anything—but she was afraid of failing.

  “Well, I think I’d better stop now. Stories from my past are good, but Rebekah, you’ll never know what God can do until you give Him the chance. If Daniel loves you, then he will accept you—imperfections and all.”

  Rebekah blinked back a fresh set of tears. “I’ll try to take the step of faith I need to find love. Will you pray that I’ll have the strength to do it?”

  Aunt Mim bent down and gave Rebekah a hug. “I’ll be praying, and may the Lord be with you, sweet niece.”

  ***

  Rebekah’s wheelchair rattled down the path toward the barn. She could only hope that Daniel and his family hadn’t left for home yet. If she could just have the chance to speak with him alone for a few minutes, it might be that they could talk things out. If he hadn’t changed his mind about them, maybe she would allow him to come calling on her after all.

  When Rebekah reached the barn, she pushed open the side door and peered inside. Several clusters of men and boys filled the area—some talking, some playing games. She didn’t see any sign of Daniel or his family, though.

  Dad spotted her and came over to the door. “What’s up, Rebekah? Did you need something?”

  She shook her head. “I was looking for Daniel Beachy, that’s all.”

  “I saw him leave with his folks awhile ago, and his brothers and sister left even before that.”

  “Do you know where Simon is, then?”

  “I think he’s outside. He and some of the other fellows his age were planning to get a game of corner-ball going.”

  “Okay, danki.” Rebekah wheeled into the chilly air again. She knew what she had to do, but she’d better do it before she lost her nerve.

  Dad had been right. She spotted Simon and a group of boys playing ball—in the snow, of all things. Rebekah sat on the sidelines until Simon looked her way; then she motioned for him to come over.

  He kept playing a few more minutes but finally ambled her way. “What do you want, and why are you sittin’ out here in the cold? Don’t you know it might start snowing again?”

  “Jah, I know it’s cold, but I—I need your help.” Rebekah clung desperately to her brother’s arm.

  “What do you need my help for?”

  “Could you please hitch one of our more gentle horses to the buggy and help me get inside?”

  His eyebrows lifted high on his forehead. “Inside the buggy?”

  “Of course, inside the buggy. What else would I be talking about?”

  “Where are you going, and who’s going with you?”

  “I–I’d rather not say. I just need to go, that’s all.”

  Simon’s mouth dropped open. “I hope you’re only jokin’ about this, sister.”

  “No, I’m not. I need to go someplace, and I know Dad won’t allow me to head out alone so I’m asking for your help.”

  “You want me to go with you?”

  She shook her head. “I need to do this alone. I just want you to get the buggy ready and help me inside. I’ll leave my wheelchair in the buggy shed.”

  “Oh, sure, so I can be the one Dad hollers at? You know I’ll be in big trouble if he finds out I helped you do such a stupid thing.”

  “Then we’ll have to be sure that he doesn’t find out.”

  Simon grunted. “All right, then, but you’ll owe me big for this one.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Any other time, Rebekah might have been nervous about driving the buggy alone. But at the moment, she was too excited about the prospect of seeing Daniel and telling him she had changed her mind about them courting to think of the possible dangers involved. Dad had taught her how to handle the horse, and just because she had no one with her didn’t mean she should be afraid. After all, the Beachys’ farm was only a few miles up the road, and it wouldn’t take long to get there.

  One thing Rebekah hadn’t counted on was bad weather. She’d gone about a mile or so when a heavy snow began to fall, making it more difficult to see. The road quickly turned slippery, and it became harder to maintain control.

  Rebekah gripped the reins a little tighter and talked soothingly to the horse. She knew it was important for her to remain calm and stay focused on the road ahead, or she could end up in trouble. She snapped on the switches for the battery-operated windshield wipers and the lights. With icy snow pelting her windshield, she had to be sure she could see well enough, not to mention the need to alert any oncoming cars that her buggy was on the road.

  Rebekah might not have been scared when she’d started this little trip, but she sure felt nervous now. What if she lost control and her horse and buggy skidded off the road and into a ditch? The buggy could overturn and end up on its side. Who would help me then? she worried.

  Rebekah drew in a deep breath, hoping to steady her nerves, then did what she should have done at the start of her ride. She prayed. Prayed for all she was worth. Heavenly Father, I know I was wrong for taking the horse and buggy out alone and without Dad’s permission. I probably don’t deserve Your help, but I’d be obliged if You would get me to the Beachy farm safely. When I get back home, I promise to tell Mo
m and Dad what I’ve done and accept responsibility for my reckless actions. Amen.

  Rebekah was almost to the cross street leading to the road where the Beachy farm was located when she saw another Amish buggy. It was lying on its side along the shoulder of the road. The windows were all steamed up, and she couldn’t see inside. With her heart pounding and hands so sweaty she could hardly hold the reins, she pulled up beside the wreck and opened her door. “Is anyone there? Are you hurt?” she called, her voice carrying in the crisp, cold air.

  “We’re okay, but the door’s jammed,” a man responded. When she recognized Daniel’s voice, her heart slammed against her chest.

  “Daniel, it’s Rebekah. What happened?”

  “We hit a patch of ice. Our horse broke free and bolted. Me and the folks are trapped inside my daed’s buggy!”

  She lifted a trembling hand to still her racing heart. “Is anyone hurt?”

  “We’re all okay; just can’t get out is all.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  “Is Andrew with you?” Clarence Beachy spoke, and he sounded almost desperate.

  “No, I’m alone,” Rebekah replied in a shaky voice.

  “Rebekah Stoltzfus, what are you doing out by yourself in this horrible weather?” Daniel scolded.

  “I was heading for your place. I needed to speak with you.”

  “Could you possibly go for help?” This question came from Daniel’s mother, Frieda, whose high-pitched voice gave clear indication that she was quite agitated. “It’s cold in here, and I’m uncomfortable in this awkward position.”

  “I’ll turn around and head back home right away.”

  “Be careful now,” Daniel called.

  “I will.”

  “I’ll be praying for you.”

  “I’ll be praying for you, too.” Rebekah choked on a sob, and after turning her buggy around, she started back down the road. “Please, God,” she fervently prayed, “I need You to guide me safely home. The Beachys are in trouble, and I seem to be their only source of help right now.”