A Simple Charity

by Rosalind Lauer

  The minister called for a moment of reflection, a time to think over the past year, and Meg knew she had so much to be grateful for: a loving sister, a chance to pursue the vocation she loved, a new home here in Halfway, and a man she loved dearly.

  And none of this would have come about if she had not just endured the worst crisis of her career. She thanked God for clearing her name in the investigation. The silver lining in that horrible experience was that she had seen it was time to shake up her life. All signs pointed to Halfway being a much more hospitable place for a midwife, a fine place to settle and raise a family. Jack squeezed her hand as the choir began to sing “O Holy Night,” and in that moment, Meg knew she was in the right place.

  22

  Christmas morning dawned with a pale sky and snow flurries. Fanny dressed quickly in the cold, grateful for warm water to splash on her face. She lit the kerosene lamps downstairs, started a fire in the kitchen stove, and woke her children with the good news that Christ was born in Bethlehem.

  “He was? Again?” Will peeked out from under the blankets and swiped at the edge of his mouth.

  Fanny chuckled. “I’m talking about the first Christmas, liebe. This is the day that we celebrate Jesus’s birth. Come downstairs and we’ll read the story together.”

  Beth sat up in bed and pushed stray hairs from her face. “Is Jesus in the manger?” Fascinated by the Nativity scene, Beth had been anxiously awaiting the arrival of the infant statue, which Fanny kept hidden until Christmas morning.

  “Come downstairs, and you may put him in his crib,” Fanny promised.

  They assembled in the warm kitchen, where Fanny had set out a small pile of gifts covered with a bright dishtowel in front of each child’s place. Beth was excited at the prospect of gifts, and Will wanted to take a peek but agreed to wait until after breakfast, as usual. Fanny put the crèche on the table in front of the children to distract them from their curiosity over the Christmas goodies.

  Caleb had just come in from feeding the horses; wisps of snowflakes were melting on his shoulders. Fanny slid a freshly diapered Tommy into his highchair and placed a handful of Cheerios on the tray.

  Still wearing pajamas and slippers, Beth and Will sat in front of the crèche, their elbows on the table, their cheeks flushed with excitement.

  “Mamm, we need to add the baby Jesus,” Beth said.

  “I didn’t forget.” Fanny fetched the small figurine from the top shelf of a cupboard and handed it to her youngest daughter.

  “There you are!” Beth’s tiny fingers cradled the statue and carefully placed it in the small wooden manger.

  Elsie sang “Christ the Savior is born,” as she slid an egg-and-bacon casserole into the oven and took a seat at the table. She opened the Bible, smoothed down the pages, and looked up at Fanny. “Who will read this morning?”

  The question pointed to the one missing from the table—Tom.

  The tradition was to gather around the head of the household and listen as he read the story of the first Christmas. In their family, Tom had read the scripture. In most Amish families, it was usually the father or doddy—the grandfather—who did the reading.

  Fanny lifted the Bible with a soft, loving smile. Throughout the morning Fanny had been mindful that this was their first Christmas without Thomas. It would have been easy to fall into a trough of sadness, but she knew that was not Gott’s will. “It’s up to Caleb now,” she said, sliding the good book over toward him. “It’s from the book of Luke, chapter two.”

  He lifted his chin, a bit surprised, though he didn’t object. “I think I know it by heart from hearing Dat read it all these years.”

  Caleb began softly, like a rustle of wind in the trees. “ ‘And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.’ ”

  Now Caleb’s voice was strong and sure, steady as the ground under their feet.

  “ ‘And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,

  “ ‘Glory to God in the highest,

  “ ‘And on earth peace,

  “ ‘Good will towards men.’ ”

  Quiet and contentment wrapped around the family for a moment. Will held an angel over the crèche, as if acting out the story, and Beth had sunk against Fanny, who folded her close and rested her chin on the little girl’s dark hair.

  “That story always stirs my heart.” Elsie clasped her small hands to her chest. “Even the simple shepherds were visited by angels. Gott sent his Savior for all men, rich and poor.”

  “That was a very good reading,” Fanny said, nodding at Caleb.

  “I wish Dat was here to celebrate Christmas.” Will’s comment seemed to come out of the blue.

  With a deep breath, Fanny reminded herself that Thomas was still in their thoughts. Mind and heart took a while to heal.

  “I still miss him, too,” Caleb said, putting a big hand on Will’s shoulder. “Dat used to read to us on Christmas morning. And when I was little like you, he read from the Bible each day after breakfast.”

  “I remember,” Will said thoughtfully.

  “I remember Dat’s gentle voice.” Elsie lifted the statue of Joseph from the crèche. “He always had kind words.”

  It tugged at Fanny’s heart to see her children missing their father. In some ways, the pain of loss was still tender, but so much healing had taken place in recent months. Will had gotten past his tantrums and bouts of anger. Elsie had learned to trust and taken a brave step, dating for the first time. Emma had taken on a wife’s responsibility. And Caleb had become a capable sheep wrangler at the Stoltzfus ranch. The healing had begun, and Gott wasn’t done with them yet. His love would see them through; that much Fanny was sure of.

  “We all miss him,” Fanny said gently. “But Gott didn’t make a mistake when he called him to Heaven. I don’t understand it, but every day I’m trying to accept it.”

  “That’s all we can do,” Elsie said, her broad cheeks puffing in a tearful smile.

  “Dat used to say that a journey of a thousand miles starts with one step,” Caleb said. “And I think we’ve got a good start.”

  The mood was merry after breakfast when they opened gifts. Everyone was pleased to find homemade goodies—cookies, candies, and nuts. But there were personal gifts, too.

  “Yarn for my knitting, and look at these colors! Blue to match Bethie’s eyes. Chili pepper red. And sunset orange. These will make wonderful good caps or mittens.” Elsie had never really taken to quilting, but she enjoyed knitting and embroidery.

  Will was very pleased to receive a Jenga game, which he deemed to be “the noisiest game ever” when the wooden tiles came crashing down.

  A set of colored pencils kept Beth busy, especially with the little sharpener that created fascinating curls of paper-thin wood.

  Elsie and Beth were all giggles when Will told Fanny that she needed her coat to see the Christmas gift that he’d made for her. When she asked him why he didn’t bring it in, he said it was too big.

  “Too large?” she teased. “Did you build a new buggy?”

  “No,” Will insisted. “Just get your coat, Mamm.”

  Everyone bundled up, and Will told Fanny to close her eyes while he guided her out to the spot.

  “Okay, now you can take a look.”

  Fanny opened her eyes to find a birdhouse sitting on the porch of the carriage house. It was large—probably three feet wide—with brown shingles on the roof and two arches on the side that echoed the carriage house doors.

  “What a wonderful birdhouse!�
� Fanny moved closer to inspect it. “Real shingles on the roof! Did you really build this, Will?”

  “I did. Well, Zed helped me. He built most of it. But I put a lot of the nails in. And I painted it and glued on the shingles.”

  “It’s really something!” She rubbed the crown of Will’s head and pulled him into a hug. “I reckon we’ll have birds coming from far and wide just to visit.”

  “Do you think the birds will use the carriage doors?” Caleb teased.

  “They’re not real doors,” Will pointed out. “Zed put them there to match the carriage house.”

  “Well, I think it’s a good match,” Elsie said. “And I think the birds are going to be happy to visit, once you put seed inside.”

  “Zed is going to mount it on a post,” Caleb said. “He would have done it already, but Will wanted to surprise you this morning.”

  “And I am surprised.” Fanny was pleased by the gift, but her true delight was the sight of Will’s face, beaming with happiness. “Denki.”

  For Christmas dinner, Fanny roasted a large chicken in the oven and Elsie helped her prepare mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, a Jell-O mold, and two kinds of salad. It was a delicious meal for all, though Fanny was aware of the two who were missing—Thomas and Emma.

  “Why couldn’t Emma have Christmas dinner with us?” Will asked.

  “Because she’s married now, and she and Gabe are having dinner with his family,” Fanny answered.

  “But we’ll see her tomorrow,” Elsie pointed out. “Emma and Gabe are coming for second Christmas.”

  Will held a chicken drumstick aloft as a grin lit his face. “And what about Zed? Is he coming tomorrow?”

  “Ya. His parents, too. And Jimmy and Edna Lapp’s brood will be here as well.”

  “It will be good to see all of them,” Elsie said. “I’ve also invited Ruben, and if it’s all right, Rachel King will stop by.”

  “Everyone is welcome,” Fanny said.

  “I’ve invited someone, too.” Caleb ran his hand along the suspender strap of his pants, a gesture that reminded Fanny of his father. “And, well, I think she’s going to bring some of her family.”

  That caught Fanny’s attention. Caleb had never before spoken of the girl he was courting, and Fanny reached for another roll to hide her surprise. “The more the merrier,” she said.

  “I know you’ll welcome Kate,” he said, “but I wanted to warn you about the Fishers. Her mother, Lydia, will be here, and probably her aunt Joan, too.”

  “Joan Fisher?” she said aloud. Her former mother-in-law would be coming into her home? She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Caleb was dating one of the Fisher girls, a member of the family that had turned its back on Fanny after David had died. Of all the sweet young women Caleb might have chosen in the Amish community, why had he picked from a vat of sour pickles?

  Not that she held a grudge. She had made her peace with these matters long ago. It had hurt to be rejected from the Fisher family, but that rejection had made her turn to Thomas Lapp—and wonderful good things had come of her meeting with him. When Gott closed a door, He truly did open a window.

  “I don’t mean to cause any problems, Fanny.” Caleb’s eyes held a golden glimmer of tenderness, so like his father. “But I don’t even know why we always avoid the Fishers. What started this mess?”

  “It wasn’t any one event,” she admitted. “I came here from Ohio, and I knew no one except David, but his sisters and cousins were kind and accepting toward me.” But all gestures of comfort and friendship ended when the accident took David.

  Looking down the table, Fanny was relieved to see that the little ones were more interested in their food than the conversation. Elsie watched attentively, but then Elsie was certainly old enough to hear Fanny’s story.

  “After David died, I felt very alone. I thought about returning to my family in Ohio.”

  “Did the Fishers convince you to stay?” Elsie asked.

  “They were one of the reasons I wanted to leave. They offered me no small jobs in the bakery, no chance to pay my way. I was unsure of my place in their family. In some ways, I think they blamed me for what happened to David. Some were more angry than others. Lizzy was always kind to me, but David’s mother, Joan …” She shook her head. “Joan was telling people that I would be on the next bus to Ohio.”

  “But you didn’t go,” Elsie said. “Why did you decide to stay?”

  Fanny looked from Elsie to Caleb. “Bishop Samuel got me a job with a wonderful family here. A family that had plenty of Gott’s love but needed a woman’s touch in their home.”

  “Oh, Fanny.” Elsie clucked her tongue, seeming far older and wiser than a teen. “We needed a lot more than that. But you came along and brought hope back into our home. Light and laughter.”

  “And your recipe for Yummasetti,” Caleb teased.

  Fanny smiled. “That, too.”

  He tore a roll and slathered butter onto one half. “I hope that from now on there can be peace between the Lapps and the Fishers.”

  “There is peace,” Fanny assured him. “Gott does not abide grudges. Only forgiveness.” Once she had put a little bit of distance between herself and David’s family, it had been easier to move on, to forgive and forget. Of course, she was never too far from her former mother-in-law, owner of Halfway’s bakery. David had a large family, and one couldn’t live in this town without rubbing elbows with the Fishers. And Fanny had maintained friendships with some of David’s family members, like dear Lizzy King.

  “I think you’re right, Caleb,” said Elsie. “I’m going to ask Gott to bless this new bond between our families.”

  “That would be mighty good.” Fanny would pray for smooth relations and a pint of patience when she came face-to-face with her former mother-in-law.

  23

  The inn looked like a picture on a Christmas card. The clear lights strung along the roofline and windows and doors were reflected in the snow, all cool shades of silver and white and blue. Out here in Amish country, where night usually meant dimly lit homes without electricity, Christmas decorations could really light up the horizon.

  As Jack turned his truck up the drive, he had to smile. Zoey and Tate had done an amazing job turning this old Amish home into a hotel. They’d spent more money on it than Tate had intended, but the man took it all in stride. Good people, Zoey and Tate. And Meg … Meg was pure gold.

  He parked the truck off to the far side of the small lot and checked his cell phone. Almost midnight. When he’d signed up to work the four-to-midnight shift on Christmas Day, he had figured he would cover for the guys with kids who wanted to do the big family dinner. He’d never imagined that he’d have someone special to spend Christmas with. But there she was, waiting inside the inn for him.

  Well, he assumed that the golden glow from the front windows was Meg waiting for him. Dang. He’d never had a girl wait up for him without complaining—especially on a holiday like Christmas. Police work could be inconvenient, a sacrifice for cops and their families. But Meg got that. Her line of work required sacrifice, too.

  The paving stones had been cleared of snow. As he walked to the front door, he tapped her name on his cell phone and held it to his ear. Better to call than to ring the bell and risk disturbing anyone.

  “Jack.” She sounded happy to hear him. Her voice melted something inside him, something that had long been frozen in place.

  “Ho, ho, ho. You know you got a fine-looking man waiting on your doorstep?”

  “Santa?” she teased.

  “Naw. He came by last night.”

  He heard the click of the lock and saw light emanate from the crack. “Oh, this guy’s much better looking than Santa.”

  Now he heard her voice in stereo, from the phone and from the doorway. The light behind her rimmed the edges of her red hair with a golden glow, even as it outlined her frame, that hourglass shape that couldn’t be disguised by a bulky cable-knit sweater and blue jeans.


  “You waited for me.” Somehow that meant so much to him. “Were you dozing off by the fire?”

  “Are you kidding me?” She stepped forward into the splash of illumination from the Christmas lights and pulled him into her warm, sweet glow. “I am an expert waiter. I wait on mothers. I wait on reluctant, sleepy babies who come into this world on their own, very particular schedules. I’ll never have any problem waiting for the man I love.”

  Man, she had a knack for choking him up. “Good to hear. So it looks like I’m just in time to be the last person to wish you a Merry Christmas. At least until next year.”

  “Oh, you don’t know my sister. In Zoey’s house, Christmas is a state of mind that lasts through the year.”

  “I like that. How about one more Christmas kiss?”

  She cocked her head to one side. “Any excuse for a kiss.” She rose onto her toes and pressed her lips to his, a light sweep, then more of a commitment. He answered with a deep, tender kiss that just about drained every ounce of control from his body. He let his fingers curl into her silken hair, then glide down her shoulders, evoking a sigh from deep inside her.

  He ended the kiss slowly, but held her in his arms. “You gonna invite me in, or we gonna build a snow castle out here?”

  She pulled him by the arm. “Come on in.”

  A middle-aged couple nodded a greeting as Meg introduced Dave and Karen Balfour. They were visiting Halfway from their home outside Boston, spending Christmas with good friends who had just moved to the area.

  “My kids,” Karen said, explaining that she had kept in close contact with the children she had provided day care for. “And now that they have kids of their own, well … it’s the great circle of life.”

  “We were just heading off to bed,” Dave said, opening the French door that led to the hallway. “We’ve got a big day planned tomorrow.”

  “More shopping and ice-skating,” Karen added. “And a lot of good eats. You guys have great treats here. We love those whoopie pies.”