The Amish Christmas Candle

by Long, Kelly; Beckstrand, Jennifer; Baker, Lisa Jones

  “But this year, Mamma, it’ll be harder for them to deliver rolls to everyone who needs them.”

  Her mother stopped what she was doing to rest her hand on her hip. “What do you mean?”

  “Some of John’s brothers and sisters are out of the house now and they won’t be able to help. And according to John, the list of people on the need list is nearly twice as long as in past years.”

  A short silence ensued while Mamma organized the countertop, moving the roast into the center. The comforting, familiar smell filled the kitchen. Lydia’s mouth watered.

  In her opinion, no one made a pot roast as good as her mother. The beef was always tender. And Mamma added special spices to the meat to make it the most delicious meat Lydia had ever tasted.

  “At King’s Bakery yesterday, I talked with John and met some of his siblings.”

  Mamma grinned. “Those Kings sure have a large clan.”

  “Jah.” As Lydia considered the benefits of being part of such a family, she smiled a little. The idea appealed to her. “But Mamma, John’s worried about this year’s drive. As you know, every December Anna and I decide a blessing to make happen by Christmas Eve. And deciding what it is has been difficult.”

  Sympathy edged the concerned tone of Lydia’s mother’s voice. “I know how much you miss your sister and how hard it’s been with her gone.”

  “But Mamma, the good news is I’ve finally decided this year’s Christmas goal. And I’m so excited!”

  A long silence ensued while Lydia determined how to ask permission to help with the event. Certainly, being part of such a wonderful charity wouldn’t be wrong and her parents were always for helping others but for some reason, Lydia knew that getting a yes might be difficult because John was a single Mennonite man and she was a single Amish girl. That situation would certainly give her parents pause.

  Lydia squared her shoulders and tried for her most confident tone. “Mamma, I’d like yours and Dad’s permission to help John and his family with his Christmas drive.”

  To Lydia’s surprise, her mother didn’t respond and continued to organize. While Lydia awaited a reply, she pretended a sudden interest in the window at the sky blue curtains that Anna had sewn a few years ago.

  Lydia had no interest in sewing. However, she loved learning new recipes.

  People had always told her that she would make a great wife and mother. She raised a skeptical brow, wondering how being a good cook could make someone a great wife and mother. So many things contributed to being a good mamma that didn’t involve food.

  Lydia held her breath as Mamma’s fingers nervously strummed against the countertop. Even the comforting aroma of the roast didn’t calm Lydia as she acknowledged how very important it was to play a role in this drive.

  Finally, Mamma waved a hand toward the dining room table. Lydia took a seat next to her at the oak table her father had made. After breathing in, Mamma expelled a deep sigh and locked gazes with Lydia.

  “Lydia, I’m happy that you finally decided your Christmas goal and want to help John’s family. The drive greatly contributes to our community. But helping him with it?”

  She shrugged and lowered the pitch of her voice to a more uncertain tone. “I’m not sure what your father will say.”

  Lydia had never argued with her mother and father; at the same time, she knew it was vital to make her case to her parents. “Mamma, I want to make sure you know that John and I won’t be working alone. There will be a lot of us. As you know, it’s a family project, and John has eleven siblings. Still, it’s going to be more difficult to come through for everyone on the list this year with part of his family gone. Not to mention the volume of flour, sugar, and butter he’ll need to make the rolls. They’re asking for volunteers.”

  Her mother said in a soft voice. “The Kings have always done the entire event by themselves. Maybe John needs to take donations to help with the cost.”

  Lydia considered her mother’s opinion and quickly nodded agreement. “I’ve recommended that. Unfortunately, ingredients aren’t the only issue. By the sounds of it, he’ll also need extra hands baking the pastries and delivering them.”

  She hesitated to catch her breath. “Oh, Mamma, I want so much to make this special event successful. I can only imagine the happy expressions on everyone’s faces when their rolls are delivered. Our family is fortunate. We always have plenty of food. But not everyone is as blessed as we are.”

  “I know that, Lydia. I’ll discuss it with your father this evening.” She wagged her finger. “No promises. And don’t be disappointed if he says no. Remember, you and the King boy are of dating age. And Mennonites are fine, respectable people. But their way of life is vastly different from ours. So the drive . . . it’s not only about the rolls. It’s also about you and John.”

  Lydia stretched and folded her hands over her lap. With a gentle lift of her palms she looked her mother in the eyes and used the most pleading expression she could muster. “I know, Mamma. But Christmas is the same no matter what church we go to. And the drive?” Lydia lowered her voice to barely more than a whisper. “It’s the most important Christmas dream I’ve ever had.”

  * * *

  Later that evening, Lydia’s heart pumped to a fast pace as she listened to the purring of an engine in their drive. As she dried the last dinner dish and placed it into the cabinet, she said a silent prayer for her parents to allow her to be a part of the cinnamon roll charity.

  She could hear her daddy washing his hands in the hall restroom. Her mother straightened paperwork on the dining room table. When three knocks sounded, Lydia’s heart picked up to an excited, eager pace edged with anxiety.

  Holding her breath, she opened the door and faced John King. The moment their gazes locked, she greeted him. As usual, her heart fluttered. She wasn’t sure why his presence always affected her this way, but she was used to it. However, right now, there wasn’t time to think about her reaction. At the same time, she acknowledged that this always happened when they were together.

  “Hello, John. Please come in.”

  With a dip of his head, he thanked her. At the same time, her parents joined them. “What a pleasant surprise, John! Why, it’s so good to see you.” Lydia watched on as he and her dad shook hands.

  With a smile and a quick motion of her wrist, her mother motioned John to the living room, and Lydia and her dad followed. Before sitting down, Mamma asked, “What brings you here this evening?”

  At the same time, they sat. Mamma and Daddy claimed their usual spots on the sofa, while John and Lydia took the two cushioned chairs opposite of them.

  John leaned forward and rested his palms on his thighs. Locking gazes first with Lydia’s mother, then with her father, he started. “Mr. and Mrs. Schultz, I’ve come to ask you a favor.” He cleared a knot from his throat. “You’re aware of our charity drive every Christmas Eve.”

  Mamma immediately nodded. “Of course. And John, I have to tell you that it’s a wonderful thing for the community.” Excitement edged her voice as she glanced at her husband before returning her attention to John. “Lydia tells me that this year, your list has more than doubled what it was in years past. What a lovely way to offer your services at the most important time of the year.”

  John’s dark brows narrowed into a slight, thoughtful frown. Several heartbeats later, he gave a sad shake of his head before looking down at the floor. A few breaths later, he lifted his gaze and turned a bit to better face Lydia’s parents. “That’s the good news and the bad.”

  Lydia’s father chimed in. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s what I came to talk to you about.” He darted Lydia a quick glance before returning his focus to the couple on the couch. “As grateful and honored as we are to serve our neighbors, the problem is that it’s going to be difficult to deliver that large number of baked goods to everyone who needs them, let alone to produce them. We’re short-handed.”

  After a long silence ensued, he crossed his l
egs at the ankles and leaned back into the chaise. “But with the bad comes the good. Lydia has told me about the Christmas dreams she and her sister decide every December. And this year, she would like that special goal to be to aid us in making the drive a success.”

  After breathing in, he squared his shoulders. “I’ve come to ask your permission for that to happen.”

  The room seemed unusually quiet. Lydia realized that if she dropped a safety pin onto the dark oak that shone with wood polish, she would be able to hear it meet the floor.

  Finally, John broke the uncomfortable silence. “I respect whatever decision you might make. Just know that your daughter and I would be working with other volunteers, and I would ensure that Lydia would get safely to and from our bakery. My sisters and brothers are also recruiting friends.”

  Lydia held her breath. The frown on Daddy’s face and the lack of response from her parents prompted a dull ache in Lydia’s chest. I might not get my dream.

  After a serious glance at each other, her parents stood at the same time. Her dad tapped the toe of his right shoe and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. After thoughtfully regarding his wife, he refocused his attention on John and Lydia.

  Lifting his shoulders into a shrug, he smiled a little. “I see no idea why we shouldn’t allow this. Why, we encourage our daughter to serve others, and at the same time I think this would be good for Lydia, especially with Anna out of the roost.” Several moments later, he nodded. “You’ve got my blessing.”

  * * *

  Later that evening, John pushed several bales off the loft. As soon as the straw landed on the barn’s cement floor, John stepped down the wooden ladder and drew in a deep breath as he heaved the heavy bale of dried grain stalks over his shoulder.

  Pieces stuck out from the twine and slipped out as he carried the fresh bedding to the animal stalls. John began raking what looked like golden straws into a pile. In very little time, he shoved dirty bedding near the back wall.

  Grabbing the pocketknife from his trousers, he quickly sliced the twine holding the stalks together. A huge pile of loose straw spread into a large heap in front of him.

  John breathed in the familiar scent and smiled with satisfaction. The smell of grain made him relax. He enjoyed working on the farm. Loved everything about the simple, rewarding country life.

  Pressing his lips together in a thoughtful line, he began evening out the bedding while the most recent conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Schultz played through his mind.

  For the moment, the mid-December wind had subsided, and the barn was pleasantly warm for this time of year. Without wasting time, he placed the rake against the metal front that separated the stalls from the open part of the structure.

  With one smooth motion, he slid his jacket down his arms and tossed it over one of the posts before reclaiming the rake and continuing to spread straw throughout the large area set aside for livestock.

  From his peripheral vision, he glimpsed pigeons scouring the floor for food. He could hear Storm let out a loud whinny just outside of the opened door leading out to the pasture.

  But his mind didn’t linger on his surroundings.

  While he worked, his thoughts drifted to the conversation he’d had just a couple hours ago with Lydia and her parents. After the straw was spread, he piled the dirty stuff into a metal dumpster and hung the rake back on the wall.

  He considered Lydia’s parents and their permission for their daughter to help him with his cinnamon roll drive. He swallowed an emotional lump and imagined her with his large clan.

  Already, Peter and Hannah loved her. After she’d left the shop, they’d both sung her praises. Of course, he couldn’t imagine the Amish girl not getting along with anyone. But a large family like his was certainly a huge contrast to only one sister.

  As he listened to the cattle get comfortable in their new bedding, he wondered about Lydia and the rest of his large brood. Will they get along?

  * * *

  Lydia yawned as she looked down at her project. The moon was especially bright with stars sprinkled all around it. She was nearly finished with the scarf. To her amazement, the warm neck covering of gorgeous blue shades was going to be even more beautiful than she’d ever dreamed possible.

  I’m so excited about this gift. I can’t wait to see Anna’s face when she opens the box.

  She considered the cinnamon roll drive, and her heart pumped to an even more excited pace as she imagined all of the lives that would be brightened with the tasty desserts. As her needles clicked, she breathed in the pleasant aroma of freshly washed bedding.

  She smiled a little at her work and also at the small remainder of yarn. She had the perfect sized box in mind for the gift. And Mamma had beautiful silver foil wrapping paper left over from a sale last year.

  Lydia ran her fingers over the finished project and nodded satisfaction. She’d finished Anna’s gift! Placing the needles on the stand next to her bed, she turned onto her side before jumping up to her feet.

  She hollered as she rushed down the stairs, scarf in hand. “Mamma! Look!”

  Her mother’s jaw dropped as her gaze met Lydia’s finished product. “It’s absolutely gorgeous!”

  “I can’t wait till she opens it!”

  Her mother grinned as their gazes locked in a mutual understanding. “I’m proud of you, Lydia. You tried something you’ve put off for years. Now, do you see why knitting relaxes me at night?”

  Lydia nodded before lifting an amused brow. “I’m glad I did this for Anna. But Mamma, I’m sure you can understand that I much prefer cooking.” She pushed out a decisive sigh before grinning. “Now, I know for sure that knitting isn’t my cup of tea.”

  She gave a gentle lift of her shoulders before grinning at her role model. “I’m glad I completed this project. From now on, I’ll leave knitting to you and Anna.”

  Chapter 4

  December twenty-fourth came fast. Laughter and the joyous Christmas spirit floated through King’s Bakery as volunteers prepared for making and delivering over two hundred dozens of rolls.

  The light ringing of the bell on the entrance continuously sounded as volunteers entered, one by one. Each time the door opened, cold wind rushed in, making the temperature inside drop a couple of notches while the fire in the large fireplace tried to keep up with heat.

  As Lydia checked the round clock on the wall for the time, she pulled in an excited, anxious breath in high hopes that her idea of the assembly line would result in everyone on the list receiving a box of famous King pastries by the end of the day.

  The clapping of hands startled her. She glanced at John, who tried for everyone’s attention. When he had it, he looked around the room and smiled. “I want to thank each and every one of you for being here.”

  Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply and exhaled. When he opened his lids, Lydia could see the light flecks that danced with great hope and excitement.

  “First and foremost, let’s give credit to the One who’s behind this. The real reason for celebrating Christmas.”

  Looking to his left, then to his right, he joined hands with Lydia and Hannah. The instant contact with his fingers warmed Lydia’s heart in reassurance. A strong sense of comfort transpired from his body to hers.

  “Let’s make a circle and ask God to help us get the rolls out to everyone who needs them.” Excited voices morphed into one solid sound as they got into place to hold hands.

  They bowed their heads in prayer. “Dear Lord, you’ve blessed us in many ways. Thank you for the birth of the Baby Jesus. And please be with us today as we set out to make and deliver more rolls than we ever have. Thank you, Lord, for all you’ve given us. And help us to serve you and only you. Amen.”

  “Amen!”

  Lydia and the others took turns washing their hands in the small bathroom at the side of the shop and quickly stepped into the long queue that started at the back of the bakery and continued down both walls and into the front.

  E
ach grabbed a pair of plastic gloves, and began preparing for their individual tasks. As “Silent Night” played softly over the speaker, Lydia thought of Anna and an affectionate ache tugged at her heart. But as soon as she began her job, great joy replaced the short spurt of pain.

  Lydia turned to Hannah, who carefully adjusted the plastic over her hair. Hannah’s voice bubbled with excitement. “Today’s finally here! And we’re going to make this our best drive ever!”

  Lydia bent her knees in excitement and considered her Christmas goal and everyone’s determination to make it come true. “I know! Can you believe it? We’re finally getting down to business. Ten hours from now, we’ll be out delivering delicious pastries to happy people who will eat them for Christmas!”

  She paused to take in the significance of the joy their work would bring others. “I’ve been saying special prayers for us to come through for everyone!”

  John’s sister nodded agreement. “Me, too, Lydia. We’ve done everything we can do to make success happen. And God answers prayers!”

  As they chitchatted about what they would eat tomorrow, Lydia added powdered sugar to the already-made butter and milk mixture in her oversized mixing bowl.

  She quickly forgot her sister’s absence and focused on keeping enough icing in the bowl for the rolls after they’d cooled and to pass them on to Hannah, whose job was to place each dozen into a separate box.

  The final task belonged to two of John’s teenage sisters, Martha and Esther. In Lydia’s opinion, they had the most fun job to tie beautiful red and blue ribbon around the boxes with KING’S BAKERY on top and include a special Christmas scripture to each recipient.

  Only the oldest family members were allowed to partake in mixing the secret recipe. At the first station, John put the dough together before two brothers flattened the dough with rolling pins, placed butter, sugar, and cinnamon on top, and rolled each slice into an actual roll.

  Two hours later, the team worked in full force. Today, the shop was closed to the public. As Lydia struggled to keep up mixing powdered sugar, milk, and soft butter, she thought of Anna and their previous Christmas dreams.