Heather woke early on Christmas Day. Her spirit felt light in spite of her worry for Gideon. She had emptied her heart of resentment toward her father for refusing to welcome her home. She had forgiven him and prayed on the Shakers’ Sacrifice Day that somehow he would know her forgiveness.
The Lord had made good come from his anger at her. She had found this warm place of welcome with Sophrena. Not her mother, but a woman she could love much the same as she did her mother. After their morning meal, Heather caught Sophrena’s hand as she got up to clear away their dishes before she left for the Shakers’ Christmas Day worship.
“I have no gift for you, Aunt Sophrena. Nothing but the love I feel for you in my heart. You have been a gift to me. An angel supplied by the Lord when I most needed it.”
Sophrena put her arms around Heather. “Nay, my child. You are the gift. You and your sweet baby. The Lord noted my weary spirit and sent you to renew my joy. I could have no better gift.”
An easy feeling fell over them. The blessing of Christmas love. After Sophrena left for the Shaker worship, Heather held her baby against her shoulder and whispered into his ear. “I will give you never-ending love, my child, just as my mother gave me. Prayers and love.”
He burped in answer and Heather laughed. A good feeling to laugh. “And is that a reminder that it is time for me to give you a name?”
From up in the village, the sound of the Shakers’ singing drifted down to the cabin. She held the baby close against her and went to open the door in order to hear the sounds of worship better. There was joy in the songs. Sophrena had told her that sometimes they gave one another imaginary gifts at their Christmas worship. Things like baskets of love or ribbons of happiness. That would be the gift she would like to unwrap for Sophrena. Happiness.
Perhaps if she had gone with Sophrena to worship, one of the Shaker sisters or brothers would have given her the gift of the best name for her baby. They had already brought him many good gifts. Tactile things she could touch such as bibs and blankets. But how much more important were those gifts that could not be touched.
Had Mary held the Christ child close to her heart when the wise men came bringing their gifts and thought the same? That her own love and that of Joseph’s were better gifts than the gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Then there was the love of God evidenced by a new star in heaven. Surely that was the best gift of all.
God loved her baby too. That was why he had made a way for her. She bent her head and listened to the music of the voices while praying that the Lord was making a way for Gideon.
Sun streamed down on her, but the air was cool. She was turning back inside to settle the baby in his basket when she caught sight of a wagon coming. Dark brown horses with white blazes on their faces like her father’s. She froze and stared at the wagon. Could that be her father sitting so straight and unbending on the wagon seat with Willie beside him? Was she only imagining them because her heart so needed family on this Christmas Day?
She hardly dared breathe as the wagon came closer. God’s plan, a voice whispered in her head. Her mother’s voice. Had her father felt her forgiveness? Had that been what drew him here? Pray God it was true.
As they came nearer, there was no doubt it was her father and Willie. The boy was turning to talk to someone in the wagon behind him. Beth stood up and looked toward the cabin. A smile spread across Heather’s face at this beautiful gift coming toward her. Then another person was pulling up to stand behind the wagon seat and Heather’s heart pounded up into her throat. Gideon.
She shouted his name, and clutching the baby close to her, she rushed to meet the wagon with tears of joy streaming down her cheeks. On the wagon, Beth grabbed Gideon’s coat when he started to climb over the side, but he jerked free of her grasp and jumped from the wagon. He staggered and nearly fell, but then he found his feet and began running toward Heather.
He was pale with one arm bandaged against his body, but he wrapped the other around her. “My Heather Lou.”
His lips sought hers and Heather sent thanks to the Lord for this Christmas blessing.
The baby was crying and fighting against her. Heather pulled back from Gideon and peeled the blanket away from their baby’s face. Gideon stared down at him with wonder plain on his face. “My son. Jacob.” He touched the baby’s hand and the baby grasped Gideon’s finger and hushed crying.
“Jacob.” Heather looked from the baby to Gideon. “Have you brought him his name?”
“I hope you haven’t already given him another name.” Gideon suddenly looked worried. “I did promise Jake and it’s a promise I must keep.”
She smiled and touched Gideon’s cheek. “I’m glad you want to name him after Jake. I love Jake. He’s all right, isn’t he?”
Gideon looked sad. “He’d tell you that was so, if he could. I watched him die, but he was smiling when he passed over with the morning coming.”
“Simon’s dead too,” Heather said. “And Mother and little Jimmy.” She blinked back more tears. These of sorrow for all they had lost.
“I know. Your father told me.” He gently brushed away her tears.
“We’ll call him Jacob Simon.” She looked down at the baby and smiled. “Jacob Simon Worth.”
Her father spoke from the wagon where they had all been watching Gideon meet his child. His voice was gruff. “Get my grandson back inside before he catches a chill.”
Heather looked up at her father and a laugh bubbled up out of her.
“A chill is no laughing matter.” He wasn’t exactly smiling, but neither was he frowning.
The Shaker silence fled the small cabin as they gathered around the fire and all tried to talk at once. Gideon sat and held his baby. Then Beth took her turn. Willie was satisfied with a peek and Lucas kissed his forehead and declared him a Christmas baby. Finally, Beth laid the baby in their father’s arms.
“Jacob Simon, meet your grandfather,” Beth said.
Their father looked down at the baby and then up at Heather. “I was wrong to chase you from my door.” There was pain in his face.
“Worry not, Father. I forgave you yesterday.” When he looked puzzled, she went on. “The Shakers have a day they call Sacrifice Day when they are to forgive and make atonements for wrongs. So I forgave you. Now I ask you to forgive me in turn for any hurts I caused you and for not being there with Mother when she passed.”
Silence fell over them all as he looked at her and then at Gideon and finally at the baby. “It is time we were a family again.”
Sophrena came through the door in time to hear him. “Family,” she echoed. She looked at them in turn, her expression softening on each one as though she were taking them into her heart. Even Gideon. But especially Lucas who watched her with big eyes, seeing the same thing Heather had seen when she first met Sophrena.
Lucas moved toward her as if drawn by an invisible band. “You look like Mama,” he said.
Sophrena held out her arms to him and he walked into her embrace. “The gift of family,” she said softly as she held the little boy close to her.
Sophrena brought them all food and they ate their Christmas dinner in the cabin. Not silently as she was accustomed to at the Shaker table, but with much talk and much joy. She held the baby and dreaded the meal to be finished, for she knew then they would leave. A family reunited. Gideon and Heather sat touching hands, sharing a special closeness in the midst of the others.
Then the food was eaten, the dishes cleared away. Susan’s husband was standing, saying they must return home before darkness caught them. The baby’s things were packed. His gowns and blankets. All the little gifts. Sophrena stood by the fire and watched. Her arms had never felt so empty. Her heart never so barren.
They were ready to go. Heather came to her. “Come with us.”
“The Lord put me here,” she said.
“He did, but now he has opened a new door to you. Come with us, Aunt Sophrena.”
“I would have no place there.”
&nbs
p; “There is always a place for family.” Heather looked at Gideon and then her father.
Susan’s husband looked straight at Sophrena and spoke without hesitation. “We can build houses in the spring.”
They watched her then, waiting. She too was waiting. For what she wasn’t sure.
The young boy, Lucas, ran to put his arms around her waist. “You can be my new mother so Beth can get married to Perry.”
That made the young girl blush. And Sophrena felt a whirl in her head. God’s plan from her first letter reaching out to Susan, to Heather and her baby, and now to this boy who needed her love. A gift. Without a word, she turned and took down her cloak to follow them out the door. Willie helped her up into the wagon filled with hay to soften the bounces. Heather took her hand and kissed it before she settled beside her husband. Lucas and Beth sat down on either side of Sophrena.
Beth took her hand. “You can share my bed, Aunt Sophrena, until we get those houses built.”
Susan’s husband climbed up on the wagon seat with his son Willie and started the horses moving out of the village. As she passed by the Centre House, Sophrena glimpsed Sister Edna’s face in one of the windows. Good. She could tell the others. She lifted her hand in a wave that Sister Edna did not acknowledge. She would not. They would mourn Sophrena’s leaving as one who had fallen into sin.
But the Lord had thrown open this door. A gift to her. A gift to be simple. A gift to be free.
As the wagon continued on out of Harmony Hill, Sophrena did not look back.
Acknowledgments
This Shaker Christmas story would have never come about if not for a visit several years ago from my editor, Lonnie Hull DuPont, and my agent, Wendy Lawson. We were getting ready to tour the Pleasant Hill Shaker village near my home when one of them said, “Wouldn’t a Shaker Christmas book be fun?” It wasn’t the Christmas season, and at the time, I knew nothing about how the Shakers even celebrated Christmas, but I took their challenge. This story is the result, and I thank Lonnie and Wendy for their enthusiasm for the idea and for their continual encouragement.
While the words that tell this story of love and forgiveness are mine, I am grateful to the many hands it has passed through on its way to the lovely package you, the reader, now hold. I appreciate everyone at Revell Books who helped make this book the best it can be.
Christmas is a great time to thank my family for their love and support. Last, but never least, I thank the Lord for the gift of words and for giving me readers like you. Thank you so much and may your every Christmas be blessed.
Song Credits
Page 129—Simple Gifts—Manuscript Hymnals, 1937–47
Page 133—The Union of the Spirit—Anonymous Author; from Simple Wisdom by Kathleen Mahoney, published by Penguin Group, 1993
Ann H. Gabhart lives on a farm just over the hill from where she grew up in central Kentucky. She loves books, playing with her grandkids, and walking with her dog. She and her husband are blessed with three children and nine grandchildren.
Ann is the author of more than twenty novels for adults and young adults. Her Shaker novel, The Outsider, was a Christian Book Awards finalist in the fiction category. Angel Sister, Ann’s first Rosey Corner book, was a nominee for inspirational novel of 2011 by RT Book Reviews magazine.
Visit Ann’s website at www.annhgabhart.com.
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Christmas at Harmony Hill Page 17
