by Beth Wiseman
“I thought I had it all figured out,” Adam said. “But God didn’t pay much attention to my plans.”
Rosa laughed. “From nau on we will be patient and trust completely in His provision.”
“Always,” Adam said.
She closed her eyes as his lips brushed against her forehead. In that moment she knew that no matter how much she had lost, her life was full and complete. Everything she needed had been provided.
Joy instead of mourning. An end to grief. The beginning of a new life.
Light. Love. Home. A place to belong.
“Always,” she repeated. “We will trust God’s provision. Always.”
Always Beautiful
BETH WISEMAN
Chapter One
Becky stood on the bank of the creek, her bare feet clutching the rocky ground beneath her, knowing that with one more step she’d plunge into the rushing rapids and be carried away from her troubles. Forever.
As tears streamed down her cheeks, she wondered how different her life might have been if she hadn’t always been so fat. She knew what people said about her. She had heard it again just this afternoon when Annie Lapp and two other girls were standing at the counter of Byler’s Bakery.
“She’s huge,” Annie whispered, but loud enough for Becky to hear. “And she just keeps getting bigger and bigger. She’s never going to get a husband.” Annie laughed. “Maybe she needs to stop working at the family bakery and do something else.”
Everyone talked about her. It had started the first day of school. Fatty, fatty, two by four, Becky can’t get through the old barn door. Her mother had always said that Becky was just healthy, and during her younger years, she’d tried to ignore the finger-pointing and snickering. But now, at eighteen, she was as big as a house, and the whispering still hadn’t stopped.
People were nice enough to her face, but she didn’t have any real friends. Only Elam. He was her best friend, and his self-image wasn’t any better than Becky’s. Elam wore thick, gold-rimmed glasses. His eyeballs rolled around all over the place, often making it hard to tell where he was looking. Becky was so used to it, she didn’t think that much about it, but Elam was self-conscious. The eye doctor had said he couldn’t have surgery on his eyes until they’d quit changing.
Becky thought Elam was incredibly handsome, even though she’d never had a romantic interest in him. He was tall and thin with dark brown eyes and wavy black hair that curled on the ends when it got too long. She loved Elam—the same way she loved her brother. Besides, even Elam couldn’t possibly want to spend his life with someone who took up three times as much space as the average person.
Trembling, she watched as each wave crashed against the boulders below. Occasionally a small limb or twig was carried by the current and over the steep drop-off, submersing for a few moments before popping up downstream. But the real threat was around the bend. Any time it rained more than a couple of inches, the creek filled and the rapids thrashed along a bank filled with jagged rocks. No one ever went near the rapids, and Becky usually avoided the creek altogether since she couldn’t swim.
A part of her wanted to jump, to stop the pain that overwhelmed her these days. She was tired of standing out in a crowd, tired of people whispering about how big she was, tired of the painful reality that she was never going to have a husband. The bishop might preach against pride and vanity, but even Plain people were human like the rest of the world, and physical attraction was important.
But taking the easy way out would destroy her parents—and Ruben and Lena. Her younger siblings loved her unconditionally, as did her parents, but Ruben and Lena had always been thin, and neither of her parents struggled with their weight either. She really couldn’t blame it on the family business, since Mamm and Lena both worked at the bakery with Becky.
Why me? Why do I have to be so big?
More tears fell as she shivered on the bank, feeling alone and hopeless. Taking her own life would be a great sin. But to jump and survive would be the greatest humiliation of all. She couldn’t possibly face the community, never mind facing herself in the mirror, knowing that she had failed even at this. And despite her suffering, she was sure she couldn’t do it.
She looked up at the sky and lifted her arms. “Please, Lord. I beg You. Make me thin. I don’t want to live like this anymore. Please, dear God . . . I want to be skinny and beautiful.”
As she spoke the words aloud, she could almost feel God frowning. It shouldn’t be important how she looked. Heaven knows everybody had told her enough times. But it was easy for folks who weren’t overweight to say it didn’t matter.
Becky lowered her arms and in that split second of inattention, lost her footing. She teetered out over the edge, glimpsed the blur of the rushing water below her, and braced herself for the fall. Just when she knew she was doomed, she slipped backward and collapsed on the bank. She sat there for a long time, gasping for breath, terrified at how close she’d come to doing something stupid.
“God, help me,” she whispered. “Please.”
She sat there another few minutes until her tears dried up. Then sun rays eased through the clouds and lit the water below, glistening in a way that Becky hadn’t noticed before. A peaceful feeling settled over her.
God had heard her plea. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but He was going to answer her prayer.
She’d never been so certain of anything in her life.
Elam ran full tilt toward Becky and slid up beside her. He cut it close, just short of accidentally pushing her into the water. But he could hardly be blamed for being distracted. Her beautiful face was aglow with a smile—the same smile he thought about even when she wasn’t around.
He fought to catch his breath and struggled to focus as he stared at her.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked “What if you had fallen in and no one was out here to help you?” He pulled off his hat and ran a hand across his forehead. “Look at the water, the way it’s rushing. And the falls are just around the corner. I’m not sure I could have saved you if you’d fallen in.”
“I’m fine, Elam.” Becky clasped her hands in front of her and raised her shoulders, dropping them slowly. “I’m actually better than fine.” The warmth in her smile echoed in her voice. “I’m great!”
“Ya, well, get away from the creek.”
Elam gently guided her a few feet from the water’s edge. He shuddered to think what would have happened if she’d fallen in. He’d already lost someone dear to him a few years ago. A car had slammed into his father’s buggy and killed him instantly. Becky Byler was the most special girl in the world, and he couldn’t bear losing her too. He’d loved her since they were kids. Someday he planned to marry her if she’d have him. But she’d been so depressed lately about her weight that Elam hadn’t considered encouraging anything more than friendship.
Becky was gorgeous, but he wanted her to see that for herself. He didn’t know anyone who was better with children than she was. No one could cook as well. She grew the biggest, tastiest vegetables in their district. And he’d been told that she could sew circles around even the elderly women.
For Elam, those were all just bonuses. Becky was a gentle soul who loved everyone, and more than once Elam had been pushed to come to her defense when someone poked fun at her weight. Fighting wasn’t their way, but twice Elam had gotten physical on the school grounds when they were young. Fortunately things didn’t turn violent these days, but the whispering behind Becky’s back continued, and Elam fought to control his temper when he could tell Becky’s feelings were hurt. He’d marry her today if he could.
They started walking back to where both buggies were tied to the same tree.
Becky turned to him, still smiling. “How’d you know I was here?”
“I didn’t. I was on my way to Rosa Hostetler’s haus to get some eggs. Mamm says it’s easier to get ’em from her than to mess with chickens ourselves.”
Becky was quiet for a few moments, the
n she slowed down, stopped, and turned to him. “I know it’s hard—just being you and your mamm. I’ve told you a hundred times that mei family can help out more.” She paused, sighing. “I know you’re busy tending the fields by yourself, and with no other kinner, your mamm is bound to be plumb tired all the time.”
Elam forced a smile, knowing Becky was right. He often wondered how his mother would fare when Elam got married and moved out some day. “We do all right, and going to get eggs ain’t no big deal.”
“Well, Rosa drops off eggs at the bakery every day. I can always get extra and cart them to your haus.” Becky untied her horse from the tree.
“Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer.” It would be a good excuse to see her.
He offered her his hand and helped her into her buggy. “I was worried about you being out here. I mean, it wondered me why you came out to the creek all by yourself like this.” He paused, forced his eyes forward, and studied her face—her rosy cheeks, dark hair, and amazing deep brown eyes. She was still glowing and smiling, but Elam was worried about how depressed she’d been.
“I’m gut now. I had a talk with God, and I know He heard my prayers.” She pulled her dress inside the buggy, and Elam shut the door. “I know you’ve been concerned about me, and I love you for that. But everything is going to be just fine.”
She picked up the reins, flicked them gently, and started away. Elam was still reeling.
Did Becky Byler just say she loved him?
Chapter Two
Becky loaded the last tray of whoopee pies into the glass cabinet that ran the length of the bakery. Most of their visitors were tourists, but a few folks in their district came to Byler’s Bakery just for convenience’s sake. More and more Amish women were working outside the home, and some of the ladies stopped by on their way home from work to pick up breads, desserts, noodles, or a jar of chow-chow.
Becky’s little sister, Lena, came out of the kitchen carrying a tray of apple fritters. For a ten-year-old, she was small and slight, and the heavy tray was almost too much for her. Becky gave her a hand sliding the tray in next to the whoopee pies. “Why aren’t you eating a cinnamon roll?” Lena said. “You eat a cinnamon roll every morning.”
Becky wiped her hands on her black apron. “Because I don’t want one.”
Lena shrugged. “Okay, but there might not be any left later.” She ran the sleeve of her green dress across her sweaty forehead. “Whew, it’s hot back there.” She pointed toward the kitchen, where the ovens worked nonstop.
Summers in Lancaster County were brutal, but at least the Bylers had air-conditioning at the bakery during the day. Five years ago when Becky’s mother wanted to open the shop, Becky’s father had the idea to partner with an Englisch man named Danny Kaspar, a retired police officer looking for an investment. The Ordnung forbade air-conditioning, of course, but if one of the partners in a business was Englisch, it was allowed.
Becky was glad for the loophole—especially on a day like today when the temperature was predicted to be in the nineties.
She was cleaning the glass countertop when her mother came from the back. Lena was sitting on the bar stool near the cash register eating a cinnamon roll.
“There’s a mud sale at the firehouse today, so I expect lots of people will be out and about this morning.” Mamm rounded the corner of the counter and went to peer through the glass door. “I hope it doesn’t rain.” She flipped the door sign to Open and returned to the counter. “But I guess that’s why they call it a mud sale. Silly Englisch folks, mostly. I wouldn’t slosh around in that mess.”
“Maybe it won’t rain,” Lena said around a mouthful of cinnamon roll.
Mamm opened the cash register and filled it with money. “Lena, finish eating, then come help me in the back. There are pots and pans to be washed and four loaves of bread still in the oven that we need to keep an eye on.”
Becky eyed the racks filled with baked goods. The yeasty aroma of fresh bread baking drifted from the back of the shop. Her mouth watered. Any other time she would probably have been gorging on cinnamon rolls, just as her little sister expected. But she had prayed for God’s help, and if she expected God to work, she needed to cooperate.
She was busy daydreaming about what it would be like to be thin when the bell on the door rang and Matt King walked in. Becky swallowed hard. The very idea of Matt caused Becky’s heart to flutter, and she blushed every time he was around. He wasn’t just handsome—he was also the kindest person she’d ever met. He always treated her as if she were the prettiest girl on the planet, even though Becky was sure it was just his nature to be nice. She’d had a crush on him for as long as she could remember.
“Wie bischt, Becky?” Matt strolled up to the counter, his tall, muscular body moving with easy grace. His face was bronzed from the summer sun and thick blond bangs hung down over his forehead. When he smiled, tiny lines feathered from the corners of dark blue eyes, making him look a bit older than his nineteen years.
“I’m gut, Matt.” Becky forced a smile. She could feel her face flaming. Again. She tried to avoid his gorgeous eyes, but he held her gaze, and she just couldn’t look away. “What can I get for you?”
Matt finally pulled his eyes from hers and began studying the baked goods in the glass display. “Hmm . . .” He drummed his fingers on the counter. “Mamm said to pick up some pumpkin whoopee pies. She has an Englisch friend coming for lunch who loves them, but she didn’t have time to make any this morning.”
Becky leaned down, thankful for the baggy dress she wore, but wishing it did more to hide her flabby body. She pulled out the tray with pumpkin whoopee pies. “How many?”
“Four.”
Becky took out the pies, placed them in a bag, and rang them up on the cash register. “Anything else before I total?”
“Ya.” Matt paused, and Becky looked up at him, waiting for him to go on. “Are you going to the singing this Sunday?”
“Huh?” She thought she heard him wrong. “I meant, is there anything else you want to buy?”
Matt shook his head. “Nee. Nothing else.” He handed her a twenty-dollar bill, Becky gave him back his change, and he picked up the white bag with the pies. “So, are you?”
“Am I what?” Becky sat down on the stool behind the counter.
“Going to the singing?”
She shook her head. “Nee.” Becky had only gone to a few singings over the years. Most recently, she’d gone a couple of weeks ago because it was at the Bowmans’ house and she’d promised Hope Bowman she would attend. As a rule, she didn’t normally attend social gatherings unless she had to.
“Oh,” Matt said. But he didn’t leave. He just stood there staring at her with the bag in his hand.
Becky was sure her face was on fire, and her heart was doing somersaults in her chest.
Finally, Matt dragged his eyes away and shrugged. “I was just wondering if you were going.” He looked back at her. “You’re such a gut singer. I like hearing your voice.”
Becky looked down. “Danki,” she finally said.
Matt sighed. “Anyway, if you were going, I was going to offer to give you a ride.”
Becky felt her mouth drop open, but no words would form.
“Okay then,” he said after a minute. “Danki for the pies. See ya.” Matt gave a quick wave, turned, and headed for the door.
Becky stared through the glass door and watched him disappear around the corner. Everyone knew that when you rode to or from a singing with someone, it was an indication that the couple was interested in each other. A sign they were going to start dating.
She twisted the strings of her prayer kapp. If Matt King had been trying to ask her out, then it must have been a joke or a dare. He could have any girl he wanted. They probably would have showed up at the singing together, and he would have left her there for another girl. Or his friends would have handed him a wad of cash and congratulated him for daring to take out the fat girl.
She tried to di
smiss the conversation as she doodled stars on the receipt pad. Her mother would scold her about it later. It was an awful habit she’d had since she was young. She’d doodle stars on just about anything.
Maybe because I’m such a dreamer.
Matt flicked the reins. Black clouds loomed above, and he was hoping to get home before the rain started.
He had stunned her speechless by asking her if she was going to the singing. And to tell the truth, he had surprised himself as well. He’d been trying to work up his nerve all week.
She hardly ever went to the singings, but a couple of weeks ago at the Bowmans’ house Matt sat as close to her as he could so he could hear her above the others. She had a voice like an angel. And the way she smelled! Heavenly. Maybe it was her soap or lotion, or maybe she was secretly using perfume. He didn’t know, and he didn’t care. Whatever it was, he liked it.
And Becky was just so sweet. Good to everyone. A few people poked fun about her weight, but she had a really pretty face. He’d spent time with plenty of girls in their community since his rumschpringe started a few years ago. Gorgeous girls with great figures. But despite the fact that they’d been brought up to avoid pride and vanity, all they seemed to care about was their appearance.
Becky, on the other hand, wasn’t the least bit vain, and even though she was a big girl, there was something alluring about her. But over the years when Matt had tried to get to know her better, she had always avoided him. She was the only girl in the district who shied away from him.
As he pulled into the driveway, the rain was just starting, barely a sprinkle, but by the time he got the horse watered and in the barn, it had turned into a downpour. He ran to the house, shielding the bag of pies beneath his shirt.
“Here are your whoopee pies,” he said to his mother as he stood dripping on the kitchen floor, handing her the bag.
“Danki, sohn.” She waved an arm toward the stairs. “Go get dried off, then see if you can find your daed. He’d planned for you to help him paint the back fence before this rain started, but I’m not sure what he’s doing now.”
