Amish Christmas Twins

by Patricia Davids

  “For what?”

  “For befriending my daughters. They miss their dad. You are making it easier for them.” She reached up to brush a lingering patch of snow from his shoulder.

  “I’m glad I can help. Have I made it easier for you?” His voice held a low breathy quality that made her look at him sharply.

  “I can’t think about me. I have to think about them and what they need.” She started to turn away, but he caught her by the arm.

  “You will have to think of Willa Lapp sooner or later.”

  “Perhaps, but not now.” She gently pulled away from him and followed her girls into the house.

  * * *

  A little after eleven o’clock on Saturday morning, Willa hitched up her horse and drove over to her appointment with the midwife. The midwife’s home was a modest old farmhouse painted white just off the highway four miles from the Miller farm. If not for the power lines running to the house, it could have been the home of an Amish family.

  Willa liked Nurse Willard as soon as she met her. A tall, big-boned woman with short gray hair, Janice, as she insisted on being called, was a no-nonsense woman who valued plain speaking. She wasn’t happy with Willa for waiting so long to consult her and for failing to bring her medical records.

  After Willa’s exam, Janice wrote in a manila folder while Willa got dressed. “If your prepregnancy weight is accurate, you could stand to gain a few more pounds.”

  “John says I eat all the time.”

  “Ignore him. Is that your husband?”

  “I’m a widow. My husband passed away last May. I’m staying with John and Vera Miller.”

  Janice folded her hands. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you.”

  She went back to writing. “Your official due date is January 11, is that right?”

  “Yes.”

  “That makes you thirty-four weeks and a few days. Are you sure about your dates?”

  “Pretty sure.”

  “Don’t be surprised if you don’t go to forty weeks. You mentioned you have twins. Were they delivered by C-section?”

  “I delivered them naturally.”

  “You were a fortunate woman. Twins can be tricky to deliver, especially for a first-time mother. Any complications during your pregnancy?”

  “None.”

  “What about afterward?” Janice asked without looking up.

  “Is this conversation confidential?”

  That caused the midwife to put her pen aside and face Willa. “It is. So are your medical records and personal information. I’m a nurse-midwife, and I’m bound by the laws of this state to keep what you tell me in strictest confidence. I can’t share any of your information without your written consent.”

  Willa couldn’t look the woman in the face. She stared down at her clenched hands. “I had an episode of postpartum psychosis after the twins were born.”

  “I see. You must have been terribly frightened by that.”

  “I didn’t know what was happening. I don’t remember much, only what I was told.”

  “Did you receive psychiatric care?”

  Willa nodded, unable to speak.

  “Were you hospitalized? What treatments did you receive, what drugs?”

  “I don’t have any of those records.”

  “If you tell me where you were hospitalized, I can get them.”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  “Mrs. Lapp, you have had a serious complication that could reoccur. I am not an expert on this illness. I have to know how to help you. I understand you are staying with Vera and John Miller. Are they aware of your condition?”

  Willa looked up. “I don’t want them to know. They won’t understand.”

  “You aren’t giving them enough credit. The Amish in this area are progressive. Bishop Beachy has openly urged his congregation to seek help for mental health issues, both from within the church and from outsiders if need be.”

  “The stigma is still real no matter what they claim. I’ve seen it. My parents were driven out of their church because of my mother’s depression.”

  “I’m sorry that has been your experience. Willa, what were your symptoms? How did your psychosis present?”

  “I would rather not say.”

  “Okay, but you are going to have to work with me. When did they start?”

  “When the twins were two weeks old.”

  Janice sat back in her chair. “A home delivery is not out of the question, but you will need close monitoring for several months. Have you thought about how you will explain that to the family you are staying with? This is a small community. Word gets around.”

  “I was hoping to deliver here and stay here. If the Millers or the community have to be told anything, I will tell them I became sick after the twins were born and I might become sick again and have to be hospitalized.”

  “I do have a delivery suite and a recovery room where mothers and fathers can stay overnight, but I’m not equipped to have a long-term patient here. You would need around-the-clock observation.”

  “I have to stay somewhere. I can’t burden Vera Miller with my care.”

  “She can arrange for mother’s helpers to stay with you. You won’t burden Vera.”

  “And then everyone in the community will know I’m being watched in case I turn crazy.” Willa couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice. How many whispers had she heard about her mother? How many pitying looks had she endured even after they left the Amish? The English world had been no better in spite of her father’s hopes. She didn’t want to put her girls through that. She didn’t want to put John through the same confusion and pain Glen had endured as he tried to cope with her insanity.

  Janice crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “I’d like your permission to speak to several of my colleagues about your case. One is the doctor I practice under, Dr. Marksman. He will have to be informed. The other is also an RN, so your privacy will be protected. Her name is Debra Merrick. She is the public health nurse in our district. I’m going to ask her to line up professional mental health help for you in the event it is needed. We will find a place for you to stay. Although you aren’t an abused spouse, we do have a home for women in need that’s run by a Christian women’s charity. I’ll speak with them. We’ll work something out.”

  “Thank you.” Willa forced herself to relax.

  “Try not to worry. I’ll have Dr. Marksman and Debra here to meet you at your next appointment, which will be the twenty-first of this month. That will put you at thirty-six weeks. I see all my mothers weekly for the last month, so plan on coming in weekly until you deliver. We will figure out the best thing to do for you and your baby.”

  Janice walked Willa to the door. Before she opened it, the nurse-midwife turned to Willa. “I strongly advise you to confide in someone. You can’t do this alone. Your condition is not your fault. You shouldn’t be ashamed. You would not be ashamed if you broke your arm after falling on the ice or suffered an attack of appendicitis.”

  How could it not be her fault? There was some flaw in her that she should have been able to control. “My mind is made up. I don’t want anyone outside of the doctor and the other nurse to know.”

  “Then that is what we will do.”

  Willa walked outside and climbed into her buggy. If she managed to get past this delivery without people learning about her condition, she would be safe from then on out. There would not be another pregnancy because she would never remarry. At least not until she was past her childbearing years. Then and only then would she be able to think about her own desires. About her feelings for John.

  He was attracted to her. She would have to be blind not to see it. Would he be willing to wait for her? It would mean he’d never have children of hi
s own. No, she couldn’t do that to him.

  * * *

  John was waiting just inside the barn for Willa when she drove up. He came out to take her horse, impatient to know that she and her baby were okay. “How did your visit with the midwife go?”

  “The baby and I are both well, but she said I need to gain more weight before I see her again.”

  “That must have made you happy. I’m going to get a lock for the refrigerator.”

  Willa smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

  “What else did she say?”

  Willa got out of the buggy. “Not a lot. I have to see a doctor next time.”

  “A doctor? Why?” He stared at her over the back of her horse.

  “When the twins were born, I became very sick and had to be hospitalized. There is chance that could happen again. The midwife wants to take some precautions.”

  “What kind of precautions?” How serious was it?

  “I may have to stay near a hospital for a few weeks after the baby is born.”

  “A few weeks?” He’d never heard of a new mother needing to stay away from home for so long.

  “Just to be on the safe side.”

  It was odd that she didn’t look at him. Was she embarrassed to speak of such things? “I’m sure she knows best. Have you spoken to my mother about this? Mamm may know of some remedy for this ailment.”

  “I haven’t. As I said, it’s a precaution and my worry may be for nothing. You know how I like to worry. You have told me to have faith. I want you to know I’m trying. I’m going to go see the bishop tomorrow evening to talk about getting baptized. I’d rather not go alone. Would you come with me? I would ask your mother, but I’m hoping she will watch the girls for me.”

  He was pleased that she wanted him beside her. If she chose to join the faith, there wouldn’t be anything keeping them apart. He would be free to tell her how much he had grown to care for her. “I’d be happy to drive you.”

  * * *

  Willa had a hard time concentrating on the preaching during the church service on Sunday morning. Was she making the right decision? She prayed that she was. Happily her girls were well behaved, and she had to take them out only once. At the meal, she barely picked at her food, sparking a frown from Vera. The long morning was finally over, but Willa’s soul searching continued.

  She hid her nervousness as she rode beside John in the buggy on Sunday evening. She wanted to make the right decision, but she wasn’t sure what that would be.

  If she chose to join this church, she would be bound by their rules for a lifetime. Living without electricity wasn’t the most difficult part of being Amish, although she did still reach for the nonexistent light switch when she entered a dark room. Living without the convenience of a phone, traveling by horse and buggy, and wearing plain clothing didn’t trouble her. Opening her home to any Amish person who needed assistance would be a chance to repay the kindness she had received. What did trouble her was the knowledge that she might be making her decision based not on her love of God but on her fear of discovery.

  The true meaning of becoming Amish wasn’t in the outward signs of the faith. It was about committing her life to God as a member of a pious community. It was about giving her life over to His will.

  The sheriff hadn’t returned. That gave her hope that she had been accepted at face value and he wouldn’t come looking for her again. The midwife had a plan to make sure Willa and her new baby would be safe if the need arose. If bringing Willa to Bowmans Crossing was God’s plan for her sanctuary, then she had to let go of her lingering fears. If only it wasn’t so hard.

  The bishop’s wife showed them both into her husband’s study and returned a short time later with refreshments. Willa had her choice of coffee or spiced apple cider and a number of delicious-looking cookies and cakes. She chose the spiced cider and a pumpkin roll.

  The bishop came in a few moments later. “I see my wife, Ellie, is already plying you with food and drink. Welcome, Willa Lapp. I see by the note you sent that you are interested in joining the faith. Can you tell me why?”

  Willa drew a deep breath and started her story. “My Englisch husband passed away, and I am alone in the world except for a grandfather who will not accept me and my children into his home because my parents were shunned. I thought I had other relatives in Hope Springs, but I have recently learned that they have passed on or have left the church.”

  “I’m sorry to hear this. We welcome you to get to know our community. I’m sure you have learned a great deal about us from John and Vera.”

  She smiled at John. “I have. Their kindness to me and my children is a big part of my decision to remain in Bowmans Crossing. Everyone I have met only reinforces those feelings.”

  “I’m pleased to hear that. Tell me about your Amish childhood.”

  “I was raised in a Swartzentruber Amish community. I had completed my baptism classes but had not yet been baptized when my parents left the community. I was only fifteen and my mother was ill. I thought we might come back, but my parents wouldn’t allow me to return. My parents died within a year of each other. Mother died first. I still thought we would go back to our community then, but my dad wouldn’t consider it. He became ill a short time later. I stayed to take care of him. When he died, I wrote to my grandfather, but he never replied. I was alone.”

  The bishop listened to her, nodding occasionally.

  “I soon met and fell in love with a good man and we married. We had twin daughters the following year. Then my husband was killed in a hit-and-run car accident.”

  Ellie reached over to cover Willa’s hand with her own. “God has given you many trials.”

  “Your path back to us was not an easy one,” John said quietly.

  It hadn’t been easy, but he was right. Every turn in Willa’s life had brought her closer to this place and these people. And to God. If she believed that, she had to believe that this was where she belonged. This was God’s plan for her. This was where she was meant to serve Him. A deep calm spread across her mind as she opened her heart to His will.

  The bishop took a sip of his coffee before speaking. “We normally hold baptism classes twice a year. In the fall and in the spring.”

  “I am aware of those practices,” Willa said.

  “Candidates attend nine meetings with our church leadership over a two-and-a-half-month period leading up to the baptismal ceremony.”

  “Since I have already completed the baptism classes, would it be possible for me to take my vows without repeating my instructions? I would be happy to allow the church leadership to test my knowledge and my conviction.” She laid a hand on her belly. “This child is due in January, and I wish to be baptized before he or she is born.”

  Shaking his head, the bishop held up a hand to caution her. “This is not a decision to be rushed.”

  “I am not rushing into it. I made my choice many years ago. The right to take my vows was denied me. I lost my way because of that. I ask only for the chance to make my vows before God and the church so that I may bear my child with a cleansed soul and a joyful heart.”

  The bishop looked from Willa to John and then to his wife. He folded his hands together and considered her request. Finally, he nodded once. “This is a very unusual request, but I see no reason why I can’t discuss this with our church elders. Your desire to serve God is heartfelt. I see that in your eyes. The ministers and I are meeting tomorrow evening to discuss another issue. I will give you our decision the following day if we arrive at one.”

  Willa didn’t realize she had been holding her breath until she had to speak. “Danki, Bishop Beachy.”

  “Are you planning to attend our cookie exchange?” Ellie asked.

  “I am. May I have another piece of your delicious pumpkin roll? I do need the recipe.”


  Mrs. Beachy smiled brightly. “I’ll write it out for you right now.”

  When Willa left with John a half hour later, snow had begun to fall. Willa’s breath rose into the air in a frosty cloud. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so lighthearted and free. She held her arms wide and opened her mouth to catch snowflakes.

  “Was it the right decision?” John asked.

  She clasped her arms around herself to hold on to her joy. “Oh, John, it was. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. Even if I can’t be baptized before my baby arrives, I will be baptized with the next class in the spring.”

  “I’m happy you can consider staying until spring.”

  Willa drew another deep breath. “I wish I could say I’m not worried about being discovered. I am. But each day brings me more peace of mind. Can you feel Christmas in the air?”

  “What?”

  “Christmas is coming. The night our Savior took the form of a tiny baby to bring Salvation to us all. Isn’t it glorious?”

  “You are making me wonder what Ellie Beachy puts in her pumpkin roll.”

  Willa chuckled. “Offhand, I would say she adds a generous dose of Christmas spirit. Let’s get home. I want to make some tonight.”

  He opened the buggy door for her to climb in. “As long as you promise not to eat them all yourself.”

  “John Miller, you begrudge me every bite I take.”

  “I don’t, but Clover may. She’s the one that has to pull you around.” When he climbed in, the buggy sagged in his direction. He outweighed her by over a hundred pounds.

  Willa folded her arms. “No pumpkin roll for you.”

  * * *

  On Friday afternoon, a buggy carrying four members of the church leadership arrived at the Miller home. Willa waited patiently in the background as Vera made them welcome and settled them in the living room. When he was ready, the bishop beckoned Willa to take a seat on a chair facing the men.

  One by one, they took turns asking her questions about the faith and about her understanding of the eighteen articles of the Dordrecht Confession and if she had read them. She had when she took her baptismal classes, but the German words had carried little meaning for her at fifteen. She had read them again from the prayer book Vera loaned her with an English translation. It left her with a better understanding and respect for the traditions of the Amish church and an abiding belief in the articles of faith.