Bright Christmas: an Amish love story (Redeeming Romance Series)

by Susan Rohrer

  “Yes,” Hope agreed. “He is.”

  Wistfully, Charity rose. “I need to pack, but I guess I’m having a bit of trouble getting started.” Charity picked up the borrowed uniform with its lengthened skirt. “I suppose I should hem this back up for you tonight.”

  Aunt Hope selected a hanger from her closet. “No, no.” With a fond smile, she draped the garment across it. “Actually, I think I’d like to wear it this way. To remember you.”

  As Aunt Hope hung the uniform on her closet bar, Charity saw her hesitate. Her gaze seemed fixed on a shoebox on the shelf in front of her. After a moment, she reached up and pulled the shoebox down. She carried it into the bathroom and wiped the gathered dust off the top.

  Aunt Hope returned with the shoebox, a contemplative expression on her face. She sat on the bed. “That Christmas card of mine you brought back this year... I guess you never read it.”

  Charity shook her head. “It was addressed to Dat, so no. I never opened it.”

  “You should,” Aunt Hope suggested. She cradled the box in her hands. “You should read that one, and there are more here. One for every Christmas I’ve been gone.”

  As Aunt Hope lifted the top off the box, she revealed a stack of cards. They were all stamped Return to Sender. “I don’t mean to mislead you. It has been so hard here. Desperately.” Aunt Hope’s eyes dampened. “Hard in ways I guess I could only express to my brother in these cards. Maybe because I knew he’d never read them. He’d never know how spectacularly broken I’ve been.” Slowly, Aunt Hope extended the box of returned cards toward Charity.

  Respectfully, Charity resisted. “I shouldn’t.”

  Again, Aunt Hope handed over the box. “No, Sweetheart. Trust me. You should.”

  Charity searched Aunt Hope’s eyes. It was as if she could see right through them, all the way to the utter loneliness of her soul. In a way, like the words of that carol they had sung about Bethlehem, the hopes and fears of all the years really did seem to be met in these Christmas cards. They must be too personal, too intimate, and yet Aunt Hope appeared somehow relieved when Charity reached out to accept the box.

  Charity waited quietly. It seemed best to let Aunt Hope leave the room. When the door closed, she sat back down on the bed.

  Where to begin?

  Sorting through the stack of cards, Charity’s eyes settled on the very earliest of the postmarks. That was where she’d start. She would experience the passing of the years in the same order that her Aunt Hope had lived them, one lonesome Christmas after another.

  By the time Charity returned to the living room, a full hour had passed. Aunt Hope was helping Daniel make up the couch for his final night there.

  Leanne padded across the apartment in fuzzy socked feet, towards her room. She cradled baby Jesse in her arms. “Night-night everybody. Come on, Smokey.” The cat sauntered behind her, surprisingly compliant.

  Hope shot a smile in Leanne’s direction. “Sleep well.” She turned to Daniel. “Just one more night on the sofa. I know it’ll feel good to get back home to a real bed.”

  What had privately passed between Aunt Hope and Daniel, Charity didn’t know for sure, but from the way Daniel thanked Aunt Hope as she headed off to bed, it seemed they must have resolved it. Perhaps it had been about the cards. Or it could have been something more. Maybe both of them knew how torn she had been between them, and the places they called home.

  Finally alone, Charity and Daniel stood silently for a moment. As much thought as Charity had put into what she wanted to say, it was still hard to know exactly where to begin.

  Daniel set a pillow in place on the sofa, and then straightened up to face her. “Before you say anything, please know two things: whatever you do tomorrow is your choice, Charity. And whether you stay or return with me, whatever you decide, know that I will always love you.”

  Charity felt her eyes fill as she met his searching gaze.

  “Talk to me, Charity. Please. I want to know everything you’ve been thinking and feeling.”

  Something in those words meant the world to Charity. Daniel was a man of great conviction, yes. But he was also a man who would sincerely listen to her. She wouldn’t have to hide her emotions as her people usually did. He wasn’t just saying that she would have a voice in their relationship. He was demonstrating to her that she would. It made it somehow easier to pour it all out, to unburden herself of every secret thought that had been stirring in her mind.

  How long it was that Daniel stood listening, Charity couldn’t say. All she knew was that he never once interrupted her, nor made any attempt to invalidate what she had been thinking. On a few points, it actually seemed that he might be inclined to agree with her, even when it came to learning of her less than conservative Amish leanings.

  Her cheeks were streaked by the time she reached her conclusion. “It’s not about choosing whether or not to live in the city. It’s not about technology. She’s family, Daniel. I love her. I want to write to her, to call her. I want us to be able to visit. And if that somehow distances me from my family back home, then I don’t know. Maybe I’ll see if I can move in with Bethany’s family, since I think they would allow it.”

  Daniel’s brow rose. “You’d leave your father’s house?”

  “If I have to,” Charity nodded. “I understand if this is too much for you, Daniel. I can’t tell you how it breaks my heart to say it. But if this is something that you can’t accept along with who I’m realizing that I’ve become...then as much as I love you, I can’t keep seeing you. And I cannot be your wife.”

  Daniel glanced down momentarily, seeming to gather his words. Finally, he looked up. “You’re not the only one who has been doing some serious soul searching, Charity.” Daniel brushed a hand over his face. A moment passed before he could bring himself to speak. When he did, his voice caught in his throat. “I cannot lose you needlessly, Charity. Not like your father lost your mother.”

  Charity stood, stunned. Was he saying what she thought he was? “You would take me to an English hospital.”

  “I would.” Daniel paused. “It’s about more than that, though. It was just...seeing you deliver Leanne’s baby. So calm, so assured. It made me think what a good midwife you could be, if only you could get some training.”

  Charity brightened. “Really? Oh, Daniel. I never dreamed... I can’t tell you how happy that would make me.” She wrapped her arms around him.

  Holding her close, Daniel whispered. “What we do under our fathers’ rooftops is one thing, Charity. It would be wrong to disrespect them while we’re there. But all during this coming year, I’ll be building a new house, with a new roof to cover us. What we decide to do there, we can decide for ourselves. Together.”

  Charity pulled back. She searched Daniel’s eyes longingly. “Are you sure?”

  “I know it seems like a long time till the next harvest, but out of respect for our fathers, I’m asking if you can wait.”

  His eyes looked so earnest, so patient, so true. Everything in her conflicted heart rested at the sight of him. “I know this has been hard for you, too—me being so torn—and you not knowing what I would do.” Charity stroked his face tenderly. She felt the light stubble along the squareness of his jaw. “I so dearly respect it that you fought for me and still, you gave me the room I needed to choose.”

  Daniel smiled at her lovingly, his eyes still glistening.

  Charity took his hands in hers. “I choose you, Daniel Yoder. Ivan is her home, now, and you are mine. Above all others, I choose you.”

  Christmas Eve found holiday travelers bustling through Penn Station, laden with baggage. Many toted festively wrapped gifts. The station was even more crowded than when they had come.

  Hope and Ivan led Charity and Daniel through the throng, toward their train’s scheduled platform. Leanne and baby Jesse weren’t far behind.

  Hope pointed out an electronic sign, posting their destination. “Guess that’s you, huh?

  Charity stopped. She
looked back longingly. “I’m afraid so.”

  Aunt Hope handed a sack to Charity. “Rhubarb. So you can make a pie for my brother, Nathan. Our secret that it’s from me.”

  “Yes, so it is. Our secret.” Charity accepted the fruit appreciatively. “He’ll love it, I know.”

  Ivan extended a parcel to Daniel. “Would you carry this for her?”

  “It’s your Christmas present, Charity.” Hope’s eyes shone. “But open it, as soon as you’re on the train.”

  For a moment, Charity fretted. “But I have nothing for you.”

  “You have already given me so much, Charity, just by coming here. I can’t ever thank you enough for that. Just take this. I want you to have it.”

  “All right, then. I’m sure that, whatever it is, I’ll treasure it.” As Daniel tucked the parcel under his arm, Charity smiled warmly at Ivan. “Goodbye, Uncle. Take good care of her.”

  Ivan tipped his head. “I promise.”

  Charity took Aunt Hope’s hand. “Daniel and I have talked about it and—once we are married, under our own roof—I hope that you will write to me.”

  Aunt Hope’s eyes widened. She checked with Daniel to make sure. He nodded his approval. “You’ll read my letters?”

  Charity beamed. “Quietly, for Dat’s sake. And I will open and answer every one of them.”

  Aunt Hope put a cast-laden hand to her heart. “Oh, Charity. I know how much this means.”

  “That’s not all, Aunt Hope,” Charity continued. Next Christmas, we hope you and Ivan will come and celebrate at our table. Perhaps by then we can persuade Dat and Opa to join us.”

  Aunt Hope threw her arms around Charity.

  Charity relished the embrace. “What is done in faith is not sin, Aunt Hope. And loving you could never be a sin to me.”

  As they finally parted, Aunt Hope tenderly kissed Charity’s cheek. A rosy smudge of her lipstick remained. Aunt Hope used her good thumb to rub it away as best she could.

  Leanne let out a hoot. “Whoops, everybody. Think I see an Amish girl with lipstick on.”

  Charity traded grins with Leanne, then drew the ribbon of Aunt Hope’s kapp across her neck affectionately. “Right here. That’s how close we’ll be yet.”

  “Right here.”

  Charity returned a kiss to Aunt Hope’s cheek. “Till next Christmas.”

  “Yes,” Aunt Hope smiled. “Next Christmas.”

  Charity tore herself away. She hurried with Daniel toward the train. They slipped through the automatic doors, just before they slid to a close.

  As they walked down the aisle, Charity drank in a final look through the window at those they were leaving there. Ivan put an arm around Aunt Hope as she tearfully waved goodbye. Leanne raised Jesse’s tiny hand to wave, too.

  Charity and Daniel took their seats just as the train began to roll away. Unable to stave off her curiosity any longer, Charity peeked into the parcel that Daniel had set down at their feet. There was the Bright family tree quilt that Aunt Hope had made. A handwritten note was pinned to the top of it. It read:

  Add to this, Charity, as our family tree grows. I love you forever.

  Your devoted Aunt Hope

  Overwhelmed, Charity turned to look back out their window.

  Aunt Hope followed them down the platform, still waving. Her eyes shimmering with gratitude, Charity pressed her hand to the glass until they were long out of sight. With her other hand, she held Daniel’s. They would not be able to hold hands like this much longer, at least not in public. So, she kept her hand in his, all the way out of the city, across the state line, and into the rolling hills of Pennsylvania.

  Never could Charity remember a time that her heart was so full. It had not been torn in two, as she had feared. Instead, it was as if it had been enlarged somehow, reaching beyond the borders they crossed in either direction.

  What a wonderful adventure this trip had been, every last moment of it. As the train glided along, she reflected on all the pictures that she had taken in her mind. They were memories that would last her until the next Christmas, when they would all be together as a family once again.

  Charity sighed happily. Daniel dozed at her side, his fingers still laced with hers. Never once had he complained, but apparently, so many nights on Aunt Hope’s sofa had left him shy on sleep. He had given so freely of himself the whole three weeks, even toward Leanne.

  By noon, Leanne’s parents would have arrived at the Café Troubadour. They’d be reunited with their long-lost daughter. They’d meet their baby grandson, Jesse, for the very first time. Just to think of their reunion brought a smile to her face.

  Hope and Myrna would be caroling to the café’s lunch crowd, blending in perfect harmony. Goldie would be ordering a tuna melt, insisting that his crinkle-cut fries should be very well done. Shep’s fingers would be dancing across the ivories as his guide dog lounged under his bench. Ivan would be washing dishes till they sparkled, making Frank glad that he had the good sense to hire him. Maybe Frank would even let him cook in time.

  How beautifully everything had worked out for Aunt Hope and Ivan. Soon, they would be married. Their lives would find a new rhythm in the city, and she would always have been a part of that. What a privilege it seemed.

  As hard as it had been to leave, a lightness filled her spirit about going back. The farther they traveled, the more she longed for the familiar fields of home. Dat, Opa, Aaron, and Isaac would be waiting for them at the train station in town. Bethany would surely be there, too. She’d be there with those shining eyes of hers, bobbing on her toes, waiting to hear every last detail about absolutely everything that had happened. How she’d missed all of them, and how right it felt to be returning with Daniel to the life she loved so well.

  Before bedtime, she’d start preparing Christmas dinner. Opa would have a turkey ready to dress and roast overnight. In the morning, there would be fresh curly kale from the garden, and yams to make with that brown sugar-cinnamon with oats topping her brothers always craved. She would think of Aunt Hope as she cut up the rhubarb to make Dat’s very favorite pie.

  Daniel stirred beside her with the jostling of the train. He brushed her arm fondly before his eyes fluttered back to a close. What a good man he was, and how assured she felt of his love. It would be her joy to marry him, to make a home and life together, to add to their family tree.

  Lightly, Charity ran her fingers along the ribbons of Aunt Hope’s kapp, knowing that, in their spirits, they were still together. And they would be, she reminded herself, until next Christmas found them feasting at their table.

  As Charity drank in the passing landscape, a soft snow began to fall. Somehow she knew that, far across the miles, Aunt Hope would be singing the very same song that rose in her own brimming heart. Daniel slept at her side, in what could only be described as heavenly peace. This Christmas night would, indeed, be both silent and holy. All was so calm, so full of wonder and promise, and at the same time, so radiantly bright.

  About the Author

  SUSAN ROHRER is an honor graduate of James Madison University where she studied Art and Communications, and thereafter married in her native state of Virginia.

  A professional writer, producer, and director specializing in redemptive entertainment, Rohrer’s credits in one or more of these capacities include: a screen adaptation of God’s Trombones; 100 episodes of drama series Another Life; Humanitas Prize finalist & Emmy winner Never Say Goodbye; Emmy nominees Terrible Things My Mother Told Me and The Emancipation of Lizzie Stern; anthology No Earthly Reason; NAACP Image Award nominee Mother’s Day; AWRT Public Service Award winner (for addressing the problem of teen sexual harassment) Sexual Considerations; comedy series Sweet Valley High; telefilms Book of Days, and Another Pretty Face; Emmy nominee & Humanitas Prize finalist If I Die Before I Wake; as well as Film Advisory Board & Christopher Award winner About Sarah.

  Among the other books she has authored, Rohrer’s previous fictional titles, Merry’s Christmas: a love story a
nd Virtually Mine: a love story are also part of the Redeeming Romance Series, a variety of clean love stories adapted from Rohrer’s original screenplays.

  Please Note: Out of respect for Amish sensibilities, the author has chosen not to include a personal photograph in this book. For more information about this author and her books, click:

  http://www.amazon.com/Susan-Rohrer/e/B005F0CHLU

  OTHER REDEEMING ROMANCES

  by Susan Rohrer:

  Merry’s Christmas:

  a love story

  When winsome Merry Hopper takes a job as a Christmas Coordinator for a handsome widower and his three kids, she falls for the family she’s never had. Could Merry get the best Christmas gift of all?

  Click this link to sample, borrow, or order:

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0097SO5KM

  VIRTUALLY MINE: a love story

  When a jilted Kate Valentine consoles herself by renting an Imaginary Boyfriend off the Internet, the lines between make-believe and reality blur. Could true love be much closer than Kate thinks?

  Click this link to sample, borrow, or order:

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00BBJM502

  NONFICTION

  by Susan Rohrer:

  THE HOLY SPIRIT:

  Amazing Power for Everyday People

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005ES7358

  IS GOD SAYING

  HE’S THE ONE?

  Hearing from Heaven About

  That Man in Your Life

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007JWCPS2

  Recommended Reading:

  NEVER THE BRIDE: a novel

  by Cheryl McKay & Rene Gutteridge