by Susan Rohrer
Daniel’s brow furrowed. “She told you this?”
“Last night.”
He let out a heavy sigh as they turned the final corner to her street. “Perhaps she needs some more encouragement.”
Charity knew Daniel well enough to recognize him as a solver. Whatever the problem, he’d want to help her with it. But this problem was beyond his solutions. “Sadly, I don’t think so. She’s really considered it, and she’s made up her mind.”
Daniel glanced sidelong at Charity. “I’m surprised you’re accepting that so easily.”
Something choked in Charity’s throat. “Nothing about this is easy for me, Daniel.” She turned away, punishing herself. That had come out much more abruptly than she’d intended. “Please forgive me.”
“You’ve done nothing wrong.”
Charity shook her head ruefully. There was much more to this than Daniel understood. It gnawed at her stomach, refusing to let go. She prayed for the courage to admit what Gott already knew.
“Wait.” Daniel stopped. He turned to face her. “Charity... What is it?”
As much as she fought them, tears blurred her vision. “I’ve been doubting.”
“Doubting what?”
It was so hard to hold his gaze. In all her life, she’d never felt so riddled with uncertainty. How could she admit the truth of what had her so completely undone? On the other hand, how could she have the kind of relationship she wanted with him if she couldn’t tell him? She gathered her courage. “I’ve doubted—well, just about everything. Our whole way of life.”
Daniel searched her face. “What are you saying?” He looked so crushed.
“Nothing yet,” Charity explained. “I’m still struggling with it. I don’t even know what I...”
With that, he took her trembling hands in his. He brushed them with a kiss. “What is there to know? Tomorrow, we take the train home. You’ll return to your brothers, your father, and your grandfather. We’ll celebrate Christmas with the wonderful secret of how we feel.”
Charity swallowed, failing to stem the flow of tears. “But... Daniel, how am I going to say goodbye to her? I’m wondering if I should.”
Tenderly, Daniel wiped a tear from her cheek. “We knew this would be hard, Charity.”
Charity shook her head. “You don’t understand. You have sisters. You grew up with your mother. She is still the heart of your family. Aunt Hope, she’s the closest thing to a mother I have.”
“But your Aunt Hope, she is not your mother.”
How could she help him to grasp this? She tucked a loose tendril back behind her ear. “I know she’s not, Daniel. Even she says how very different they were. But we have a connection now. We’re the last two women left in my family. And please understand how painful that bond is to break.”
Daniel studied her soberly. Finally, he seemed to recognize the crossroads they had reached. “One connection or the other will be broken. So it will. You realize that.”
“That’s why this is so hard.” Tears coursed down Charity’s cheeks. It was not at all like the Amish to give way to such emotion, but try as she might, she could not control what was tearing her apart. “Daniel...help me.”
Daniel opened his arms to her. How long he held her, she didn’t know. He stroked her back, so patiently, until she quieted. Even then, he waited longer, before he pulled back and looked into her eyes. “Charity, I can love you with everything that is in me. I can pray that it is enough. But that is where I end and you begin. This, you have to decide.”
Charity nodded as she wiped her face. Daniel was right. No matter what she chose, her heart would be divided. That much she knew. She had reached the precipice that every person must, that moment of decision. It was a choice that would define just who and what she was to be for the rest of her life.
Bundled head to toe, Hope and Ivan looked out, over the Upper Bay to the Statue of Liberty, illuminated against the starry night sky. What a grand lady she was, shining out there in the harbor. Hope had come to see the landmark on many an occasion, but no visit had ever felt anywhere near as pivotal as this one.
Ivan pointed across the water, toward Ellis Island. “That is where I came to this country. All my life, I had heard of Lady Liberty. There she is.” The fog of Ivan’s breath dissipated into the air.
As Hope drank in the sight of the statue, her heart warmed despite the chill of the night. “Beautiful, isn’t she?”
Ivan nodded fondly. “I said hello to her when I first came here. And soon, I will bid her goodbye.” He turned toward Hope, his eyes glistening with affection. “I will still think of her, but not so very often as I will think of you.”
Hope smiled thoughtfully. The peace that had eluded her for so many years settled in her spirit. She had made a decision, and though it had been difficult, she knew it was the right one.
“Marry me, Ivan.”
Ivan turned to her, stunned.
Hope took his hand in hers, never more sure. “Stay. Build a life with me.”
Though, clearly, it was all Ivan could do to process what she was saying, an incredulous joy shimmered in his eyes. His upturned mouth dropped wide open. “You. You are... This is what you want, now?”
Never breaking his gaze, Hope nodded. “This is what I want. Always.” Hope drew Ivan toward her and into a soft kiss, communicating all the love she’d found in her heart.
What a joy it was for Hope to share the news of her engagement with Charity and Daniel. Both Ivan and she did their best to exult quietly, so as not to wake Leanne’s baby. The child slumbered in a makeshift cradle, a deep dresser drawer set atop her coffee table, lined with soft terry towels.
Leanne threw her arms around Hope and Ivan at the same time. Charity was next. Hope embraced Charity long and hard, knowing how bittersweet this news would be for her. As Hope looked over Charity’s shoulder to Daniel, he acknowledged their news kindly, but with a reserve Hope couldn’t help detect.
Charity pulled back to arm’s length with Hope, overwhelmed. “Oh, Aunt Hope! I am so happy for you.”
Ivan appeared between them. “And what about your Uncle to be? Are you happy for him?”
Charity beamed. “I’m going to have an uncle, too?”
“And cousins,” Hope added. “Don’t forget cousins.”
Ivan raised an enthused hand. “Yes! I promise you many cousins.”
Noticing her awakened infant, Leanne scooped him up in her arms. “You hear that Jesse-boy? You’re not gonna be the only baby around here.”
Surprised, Hope turned to Leanne. “You named him?”
Leanne swaddled Jesse. “After my daddy. He and Momma are flyin’ in tomorrow, so we can have Christmas together.
Hope’s heart leapt. “You called them.”
“I did,” Leanne smiled.
“Ah, I’m so glad.” Hope reached out to give Leanne a big hug. Jesse started to fuss from the commotion.
Leanne bounced him maternally. “It’s okay, Sweet Pea. We’re just excited.”
Charity stepped toward Leanne. “I’ll get him.”
“Thanks.” Leanne put her son into Charity’s waiting arms.
Ivan moved toward Charity. “Bring him around this way, Charity. Let me see you with this boy.”
Charity soothed little Jesse as she turned him into Ivan’s view. “Shhhh... It’s all right.” The child calmed readily at the sound of Charity’s voice.
Ivan seemed impressed. “You are very good with babies.” He turned to Leanne. “Look at my niece, how good she is!”
“She is.” Leanne opened her arms wide, coaxing Hope’s embrace. “Tell you what, Hope. This is gonna be some Christmas.”
“Already is,” Hope exuded, but as she watched Charity, she noted a hint of sadness in her eyes. Hope exchanged a look with Daniel, concerned. “Daniel...”
Daniel motioned Hope toward the door. “May I speak with you? Downstairs?”
While Charity continued to soothe baby Jesse, Hope quietly followed Daniel
out the door.
All the way down the steps into the building’s lobby, Hope wondered. What did Daniel have on his mind? In a way, she hated to upset the happiness of the evening, but then again, there was no sense in putting off finding out what was troubling him. “Daniel... Is everything okay?”
Daniel maintained his composure, but the sober look never left his eyes. “You could have waited.”
Hope searched his expression. “Waited to...?”
“This is already hard enough for her.”
Perplexed, Hope stepped aside from the stairs. “What? To let her see that I’m happy?”
Daniel cleared the way as a matronly woman passed and trudged up the stairs with her wash basket. “You know it is much more than that.”
Sensing that her neighbor was listening, Hope deliberately lowered her voice. “Daniel, all right. Okay, I honestly—”
“Do not lie to me.” Though Daniel didn’t raise his voice, his face was set.
“I wouldn’t,” Hope promised. “I haven’t.”
He looked down momentarily before returning to meet her gaze. “Do you want Charity to stay here with you?”
Inside, Hope reeled at the question, knowing no answer would satisfy him. “Of course, I do. She’s like my daughter.”
“The daughter you abandoned,” he specified. “You valued this life with the English more than you valued any of us. Do not forget that.”
Nothing about this was going to be easy, Hope realized. It never had been. And despite the fresh assurance she held in her heart about marrying Ivan, she knew it never would be. “Daniel, this isn’t fair.”
“No, it isn’t.” He paused, seeming to gather his words. “It is one thing for you to choose this world. It’s another for you to play with Charity’s emotions.”
“Daniel, no. I am not—”
“She is strong, yes. But she is still so sensitive. Do you not see that?”
Hope fought frustration, though it threatened to get the better of her. “Of course, I do.”
Daniel shook his head. “In all this time, you have said nothing of the ugliness of the city, nothing of heartache of living with the English. Admit it. You want her to stay. You’re afraid to tell her the truth of how desperately alone you’ve felt, all these years without your family.”
How in the world could she respond? His words pierced right through her, all the way to intentions so deep that she hadn’t dared admit them to herself. Her cast clunked awkwardly as she leaned against the newel post. “What difference does it make, Daniel? Charity isn’t staying. She’s going back with you tomorrow.”
“You don’t know that. You have influenced her.”
“And so have you,” Hope retorted. “But at least, if she does go home, she’ll know I’m settled now. That I’ll have family here.”
“Yes,” Daniel emphasized. “An aunt, an uncle, and soon little cousins out here to miss. And her heart will always be divided. Just exactly the way yours has been.”
With everything in her, Hope tried to compose words to defend herself. But not a contrary sentence would form in her mind. He’d been maddeningly spot-on about everything he’d said. He had said it as frankly and respectfully as he could. Worst of all, he was absolutely right. There was no way to fight him any longer.
Suddenly, tears were streaming down her face. Soon, she was sobbing. The pain and grief she’d borne for almost seventeen years rained down. She had known her decision would be painful, but this was sheer agony.
Before Hope knew it, Daniel had wrapped her in his arms. As she felt him softly shaking, she realized how deeply he empathized. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know,” Hope whispered. “You love her, too. How could you not?” Hope pulled back. She met Daniel’s gaze. “Okay. I’ll tell her the truth. I’ll step back. This is Charity’s choice to make, and I will let her make it.”
fifteen
Alone in Hope’s room, Charity’s gaze lingered on her empty suitcase. It seemed impossible that three weeks had already passed, that the time to return home had come. Then again, it had. Tomorrow, it would be Christmas Eve, the day she’d promised to board the train with Daniel for home.
It wasn’t just the disappointment that Aunt Hope had decided not to return with them that kept Charity wandering down trails of thought. That, by itself, was unexpectedly painful. It was the way the experience of living in the city had made her question so many things.
It wasn’t the allure of the city that Dat had feared. She could do without electricity. She didn’t care about things like driving a car or wearing English clothes. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized there was one thing she would never be able make peace with, ever.
It was saying a final goodbye to Aunt Hope.
A hollow pang rumbled through her stomach. How unsettling it was to differ with Dat for the first time, even in her mind. The solid ground on which she’d always depended quaked beneath her. She tried to imagine explaining it all to Dat, but couldn’t. How could she, without breaking his heart?
Then, there was Daniel. She would also need to tell him everything, and pray that he’d understand. Suddenly, her eyes were pooling all over again. There was no question of how she felt about Daniel. She was in love with him. She knew it by the wave of grief that crashed over her the instant she considered what it would be like to lose him.
And lose him, she might.
Daniel’s father was a deacon. Along with most others, the Yoders ardently held to the most conservative Old Order persuasions. Daniel had been raised that way, just as she had been. But there was that small, growing minority within their community who were beginning to embrace certain things the Brights and Yoders never had. Bethany’s Uncle Caleb and her father, Samuel Beachey, were chief among them.
Charity didn’t underestimate how much siding with the Beacheys could affect her relationship with Daniel. She faltered. A single thought drained the strength from her. If they were blessed with children, what would happen when they came of age for Rumspringa? What if a son or daughter of theirs grew up to choose the English world over theirs? Daniel had always been so devout. As head of their household, would he ask her to shun their own child, even a believing one, forever?
Charity brushed her lips lightly, reflecting on Daniel’s kiss. This could come to mean their parting. How could she bear to live without him? Yet, for the first time, she began to consider what it would mean to live with him, to be a good wife and a mother to his children. If she became more progressive, he might not want to marry her at all. Neither might anyone else in their predominantly Old Order community.
This was no small thing. It certainly hadn’t been for Bethany. As attractive as Bethany was, not a single conservative man had spoken for her. So few had taken the Beachey family’s side. It had left Bethany with little hope of finding a like-minded husband, at least inside their district.
It was all so complicated. Sure, Charity wouldn’t be entirely alone if she embraced the Beachey’s progressive leanings, but then she would quickly find herself in the scant minority along with Bethany. She’d be at unspoken odds with the great majority of their community, including Daniel’s family as much as her own.
Charity ran her fingers along her suitcase. How she missed her family. Still, as much as she longed to return to them, how could she go back to life as it had been? If returning meant alienating herself from her family—whether with Dat and Opa or, in time, with Daniel—then perhaps there was no reason to pack her suitcase at all. Then again, how could she stay, if staying meant never seeing anyone at home again? Either way, it would be devastating.
Charity massaged her temples. Somehow, she had to sort this all out in her mind. Time in the city had been nothing like she had imagined. Honestly, she’d expected that the trappings of English life would feel much more like sin than they had.
No wonder Aunt Hope had been so ferhuddled when she first faced this confusing tangle of choices.
/> Were these modern conveniences, in and of themselves, even sins at all? The more Charity mulled it over, the less important it seemed whether transportation was by carriage or car. It didn’t seem to matter whether the lamp that lit a room was oil, kerosene, or fluorescent, or if a stove that cooked their food was wood, propane, or electric. What seemed of greatest consequence was how a thing was used.
Aunt Hope’s church was far from Mennonite, let alone Amish. It had been illuminated with countless wired lights, and faces that shone even brighter. Myrna had sung into a microphone accompanied by an electric guitar. The words to the songs had been projected on a screen. Still, she could not deny it. In spite of all that technology, she had experienced Gott’s presence there. That she knew. His nearness had been every bit as real to her in that English church as it had been at home, worshipping amongst the Amish.
A question rushed into her heart. It was so simple, yet so resounding that it took her breath away:
If your heavenly Father doesn’t shun your Aunt Hope, then how, in good faith, could you?
She sat, motionless, allowing the words to sink down to her innermost being. Would she follow her traditions, or would she follow Gott? There would be no turning back once she answered that question. The magnitude of it left her trembling. Reverently, Charity bowed her head. Silently, she vowed:
I will follow Your example, whatever that means.
Peace flooded her. It encircled her, like a blanketing embrace. No matter what happened, she would not be alone.
It wasn’t long before Charity heard the familiar creak of Aunt Hope’s bedroom door and the padding of her footsteps as she entered. Her reverie broken, she looked up from the still empty suitcase. “Did Ivan leave so soon?”
Hope approached. “He did. He said he wanted us to have this last night together.”
Charity smiled affectionately. “He’s a good man, my uncle to be.”
