Love Finds You in Nazareth, Pennsylvania

by Melanie Dobson

  She shook her head.

  “Your husband is a modest fellow.”

  “He’s also a man of few words.”

  David glanced back at Samuel behind them and then laughed. “Just give him a little time, Sister Susanna. The words will pour out all at once.”

  She didn’t tell the man, but she longed for the day when he spoke a single word to her. “Where did you and Christian go on your travels?”

  “The Count asked us to go to England, Prussia, Saxony. People everywhere were hungry to hear about the Savior, though there were always people who thought we were heretics. Those people often chased us away from their town.”

  She nodded. Her father had written about how some people on the African coast were hostile to the message of Jesus while others wanted to know more about Him. Until she’d received her call, she’d read every letter of his over and over, wondering what it would be like to one day be sent out herself.

  “One time we were traveling along the Rhine, telling people they could know Jesus as a friend.” There was no laughter in David’s voice now. “A mob followed us along the river, and they intended to kill us for bringing the truth to the people. But instead of running in fear, Christian bowed his head and began to pray. Our enemies quieted to hear his words.”

  The horses splashed through a shallow creek and continued through the trees on the other side. A pinecone landed on Susanna’s lap, and she savored its spicy sweetness. David seemed oblivious to the beauty around them, as if his memories consumed him.

  “The Rhine was behind Christian and me, and I looked to both sides, trying to figure out how we could run away. When I looked back at the mob, I realized that the anger had drained out of their eyes. They were listening to Christian as he asked God to forgive them like He had forgiven those who crucified His son on the cross.”

  Susanna closed her eyes and imagined the angry crowd swarming Christian and David, bent on injuring them and worse. The truth of Christ’s love threatened those who hated peace, and she wondered what she would do, faced with a mob wanting to hurt her. Would she flee at the threat of persecution, or would she stay and pray for them like Christian had?

  She could see him standing tall among the mob, a strong man petitioning the Lord God for strength. No wonder the crowd had stopped. They were expecting him to run.

  She opened her eyes. “What happened?”

  “The men slowly backed away, so Christian and I continued sharing the Gospel with those who came to hear it.”

  Susanna shifted on the hard bench. There was so much she didn’t know about her husband, so much she wanted to learn, though she wished she could hear the stories from him instead of from his friends. She wanted to ask him about his family and his life before he joined the Brethren. And she wanted to ask him why he had wanted to marry her.

  Samuel was still behind them, though he had said nothing during their journey. When she glanced over her shoulder again, she recognized the longing in his eyes. He wanted to be in the wilderness even more than she did.

  “Where is your family, Brother Samuel?”

  He looked up at her quickly, like he was startled that she had spoken to him, and then he looked away. “Most of them are in a village about thirty miles north of here.”

  “Do you miss your town?”

  “I miss the people in my town,” he said. “They are kind and generous when sober, but when the white traders bring them a keg of rum, they don’t stop drinking until it is gone. Their kindness turns into hostility for each other and the men who brought them the rum.”

  “Is that why you moved to Bethlehem?”

  Samuel paused, seeming to contemplate her words or perhaps his answer before he spoke again. “I met Brother David when I came to trade corn and blankets in Bethlehem. He shared with me how God could redeem me from my past. I decided to trade the binges of drinking for the love and forgiveness of his God.”

  Susanna’s heart lightened. That was what she wanted to do. She wanted to shine God’s light on the evil that pervaded this new world.

  “Have you always been called Samuel?”

  He shook his head. “I found a new identity in the Savior, so I received a new name.”

  “It must be a bit strange, to have a new name replace the one you’ve known all your life.”

  “My old name and my old self passed away when I joined the Brethren.”

  “What was your Indian name?”

  He glanced down at the musket in his lap. “Paiachco.”

  “Paiachco,” she repeated slowly.

  His eyebrows arched, and instead of avoiding her gaze this time, he looked right at her. She couldn’t tell if he was pleased or irritated at her attempt to pronounce the name.

  “Did I say it wrong?”

  “No,” he said with a shake of his dark head. “You said it quite well.”

  She smiled. “What does your name mean?”

  He hesitated again, and David spoke beside her. “There’s no harm in telling her, Samuel.”

  “It means ‘to shoot with a gun.’”

  She swallowed, wondering why parents would call a baby by this name. “Do you shoot well?”

  He nodded slowly, his gaze moving away from her again as David spoke. “He was the best in his tribe.”

  Samuel shifted the musket to his other hand. “There is no need to speak of it any further.”

  As the day grew warmer, Susanna peeled back the blankets that enveloped her and leaned back against the bench, watching for animals or Indians or even traders among the trees…until she spotted a squirrel. The creature leaped across four branches before it shimmied up a tree, and she quietly applauded its performance.

  The horses hauled them up a steep hill, and when they neared the top, she saw a stone building rising from the wilderness in front of them. The three stories of the gray building looked drab against the blueness of the sky, but the yard was full of life as dozens of young children played on the wide grassy area surrounding the structure. A tall Negress supervised their play. Some of the children barely toddled across the muddy grass while others ran races between the oak trees, but as the wagon drew closer, the children stopped and watched them.

  David slowed the horses.

  “Where did they come from?” Susanna asked, her voice low, as if she might startle the children by speaking too loudly.

  “Their parents are in Bethlehem and Nazareth and away on various missions,” he explained as he scanned the heads of the boys and girls. “We may not live together as married couples, but we sure know how to procreate.”

  Her expression must have reflected her horror at his words, because he quickly apologized. “I’m not used to keeping the company of women.”

  Nor was she used to keeping the company of men.

  David circled the stone building slowly, the boys and girls alike keeping watch of them.

  Mothers of the Brethren gave up their children after they were weaned so that they could devote their energy to working on their assigned trade or with their husbands as messengers. Children were raised by loving sisters in the Nursery, and when they grew older, they were moved into separate homes for boys and girls while their parents continued to pursue the call God had placed on their lives.

  In Marienborn, parents were able to visit their children quite regularly, but she wondered how often the Bethlehem women were able to travel these three hours to visit their little ones. Her own parents didn’t leave for Africa until she was thirteen, but after they left, she never saw them again.

  David stopped the wagon and hopped out.

  “Timothy!” David called to a group of young boys. A blond-haired boy probably about three years old looked up, but he didn’t step forward.

  David rushed toward the boy and ruffled his hair. “Don’t you know your own papa?”

  The boy searched his face.

  David held out his arms, but the boy didn’t walk into them. Susanna’s heart felt as if it were about to shatter for both father
and son.

  Timothy looked over his shoulder first, until he found a young woman who crossed the yard quickly to be at his side. The woman nudged Timothy forward. “Go say hello to your father.”

  Timothy shuffled a few steps. “Papa?”

  Instead of hugging David, he stared up at his father in trepidation. Susanna could see the longing in David’s eyes, wanting to pick up his son, perhaps, and twirl him around, but he patted the boy on the shoulder instead.

  How sad, Susanna thought, to be worried that you might frighten your own son.

  During the past weeks she had spent with Marie, her nurse hadn’t mentioned once that she had a son in Nazareth. Had she grown used to the idea of living apart from her husband and even farther apart from her son, or did she long for her family?

  If God blessed her with a child one day, taking the child to the Nursery would be one of the most difficult sacrifices of living in their community, even more difficult than marrying a man she didn’t know. Susanna couldn’t imagine giving her son or daughter to another woman to rear.

  David spoke quietly with the children’s guardian, and as Susanna watched, she remembered well her childhood in her family’s home—the musty scent of her father’s leather coat and the soft touch of her mother’s fingers brushing through Susanna’s long hair. Others had scorned her family for their faith, but when she was with her parents, she believed no one could harm her. But Timothy relied on his guardian instead of his parents to keep him safe.

  David lifted the boy and put him on his shoulders before he brought him to the wagon. The man was smiling again. He looked at Samuel and then at Susanna. “You don’t mind if we stow away this little boy, do you?”

  “I don’t mind at all.” Susanna patted the seat beside her. “As long as the stowaway is named Timothy.”

  David set Timothy on the seat and the boy scooted toward Susanna, his eyes rounded in awe. “Are you my mama?”

  “Oh—” She shifted again as she glanced over to David for help.

  “Your mama has brown eyes,” David said. “You remember her, don’t you?”

  Instead of answering, Timothy stuck up his fingers. “I’m almost three.”

  Susanna laughed softly, relieved that they had moved on to a much more comfortable subject. “I’m almost twenty-three.”

  He grinned at her as David picked up the reins and urged the horses around their audience of children. She thought Timothy might be afraid of the Indian man sitting behind him, but he didn’t seem to notice the difference in the man’s skin color. As she looked across the Nursery children, she realized that there was an array of color among the children—brown, saffron, and a color that reminded her of the burnt red of autumn leaves. She might not be used to different skin color and cultures, but it seemed that little Timothy was.

  “Will you spend the night in Nazareth?” she asked David.

  He shook his head. “They are expecting us back in Bethlehem before dark.”

  She glanced back in the wagon and realized that Samuel was gone. She scanned the grass and the trees beyond, but she didn’t see him or his musket.

  David’s gaze trailed hers. “It’s amazing how quietly he can slip away, isn’t it?”

  She nodded.

  “He goes often into the forest to pray for his tribe.” He put his arm around his son. “I believe he misses his family.”

  Susanna glanced down at Timothy. She didn’t say anything, but David seemed to know what she was thinking. “Marie and I—we brought him here almost two years ago but haven’t been able to return.”

  Timothy stretched his hands in front of him like his father, pretending to hold the reins.

  “Would you like me to visit with him when I’m able?”

  David’s eyes grew wide, just like his son’s eyes moments before when he thought she might be his mother. “Would you do that?”

  She elbowed Timothy. “Can I come visit you sometime?”

  “Sure,” he replied, though he didn’t stop watching the horses.

  She glanced back at his father. “Where is the choir house for the boys?”

  David’s smile returned. “Bethlehem.”

  He would be able to see much more of his son after Timothy turned five.

  A muddy path linked the nursery with the rest of the community less than a half mile up the road. As they rode west, David pointed out the stone residence where the married sisters resided. The single sisters, he said, either worked in the Nursery or lived in Bethlehem.

  The married brothers resided in a smaller home on the other side of the plaza. The Gemeinhaus stood next to the brothers’ home, and at the top of the plaza was a massive stone structure not quite complete, but the building reminded her of the castle at Marienborn. It was much smaller than the actual castle, but it towered over the village.

  She pointed at the building. “Who lives there?”

  “It will be the summer home for the Count and Countess.”

  She’d heard the story before, of Count Zinzendorf and his daughter coming to Pennsylvania to celebrate the first Christmas in Bethlehem. They’d slept in a single log dwelling with the others. Susanna knew that Elias had been sent to work on this house, and she marveled that the Zinzendorfs would come to live among them in the wilderness again—but this house was almost as grand as some of the manor houses in Saxony. The Count certainly knew about the house; he had personally sent Elias to work on it. But did he know how enormous his house was?

  David stopped the horses in front of the Married Sisters House, and when the door opened, a dozen or so women poured outside to welcome Susanna. She didn’t recognize all the women, but she saw Rebecca and several of the other women from Marienborn. And then she saw Catharine.

  Even as her friend hugged her, Susanna felt woozy. She would need to lie down soon.

  Catharine let her go and looked at her. “I’m so glad you are here.”

  Susanna’s gaze traveled over her friend’s shoulder, to the men working on the house. “Where is Christian?”

  Catharine nodded toward the house. Even as Susanna searched for her husband, as she watched David and Timothy walking hand in hand toward the workingmen, she realized that Christian was just like David’s son…completely oblivious to the family God had given him.

  In that moment Susanna was afraid for herself and for Christian, afraid that, like Marie, she might become calloused against the pain of losing someone she once loved. She wanted to love her husband, not guard her heart from him. And she wanted her husband to love her as well.

  Chapter Six

  Christian believed with his entire being that God answered prayer. During his travels across Europe, he’d spent hours praying that God would provide ears to hear the words he and the other messengers spoke, along with hearts to receive the words of truth. He prayed that in answer to these prayers, people would choose to forsake their sins to follow the Savior.

  In the past week, God had also heard his earnest prayer for Susanna’s health. Across the Saal, his wife sat among several dozen other married women, her head bowed and her hands folded over her light green petticoat, as they waited for the lot to decide whether they would be going to the Indians during the autumn and winter months. He and Susanna had yet to speak together about their assignment to the mission field—they’d yet to speak at all—but he hoped she was petitioning the Lord on their behalf this morning.

  He sat back against the bench in the Saal. Not only did he believe that God answered prayer, he also believed God could answer the Brethren’s prayers outside the lot. Why couldn’t God speak directly to people today, just like He’d spoken to Jacob and Joseph and Mary and other men and women in the Bible?

  In the Old Testament, people sometimes cast lots when they didn’t know the answer to one of their prayers. Even in the book of Acts, the apostles drew lots to determine if Matthias or Justus would replace Judas as the twelfth apostle. But this morning, as Christian waited with the brothers and sisters who’d gathered to pray an
d listen to the findings of the lot, he wasn’t certain that the lot was the most effective way to determine God’s will in every decision. If the truth were told, he was a bit afraid of the lot.

  Two couples would be selected this morning to serve the Indians at the settlement known as Gnadenhutten, while Christian and Susanna were to travel to the Indian villages around Gnadenhutten to share the good news. The elders remained convinced that the lot was the best way to determine God’s direction as to who would go to the Indians.

  He’d journeyed from Marienborn to Nazareth to go on this mission, and he’d married because the elders had wanted him to have a companion. But even with the recommendation of the Marienborn leadership, the elder in Nazareth believed they should go before the lot one more time to determine who should go. And Christian feared that his assignment, like Elias Schmidt’s, might change.

  He sat stoically on the bench, trying to calm the anxiety that boiled inside him. God had planted this burning desire in his heart to share Christ with the Indians—surely the lot would concur. All he’d been able to think about this past week was the mission and the health of his wife. And Susanna was well now.

  If the messengers left him and Susanna behind, he wouldn’t be able to focus on planting the fields or finishing the Disciple’s House with Elias. The calling on his life was strong, and it was urgent. Only Christ’s love and peace could subside the fighting that had begun among the Indians and the Europeans in this new world, and he had to deliver the message before it was too late.

  As Christian waited for Elder Graff to arrive, his gaze wandered again to the married women across the aisle. Catharine’s head was bowed beside Susanna, but he knew well the beauty hidden under her haube, the soft lines of her cheeks and the fiery color of her hair. Shaking his head, he tried to break free of her hold, but still he watched her, imprisoned by the haunting thought of what might have been.

  The lot had to send him on this mission. If he and Susanna remained here, he would continue to be confronted every day by the temptation of Catharine’s beauty and the constant frustration of his inability to resist this temptation.