Hannah's Journey

by Anna Schmidt

  His soft beard brushed her skin and she looked up at him. In the six weeks since their wedding he had grown the beard that all married Amish men had. But Levi’s beard was a rich shade of copper and she would not have believed it possible, but he was even more handsome with it than he had been clean-shaven.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, the wide brim of his straw hat shading his worried expression.

  “Better,” she assured him. She was well aware of what her problem was but Levi had not yet caught on and she was not yet ready to tell him.

  She was pregnant. By her count, she was entering her second month and as had always been her pattern, she was suffering from morning sickness. She knew she should explain it to Levi but then what if she lost this baby as she had all the others? He would be devastated. Watching him with his nieces and nephews and then hers as they traveled around during their wedding trip, she had seen how very much he enjoyed being around children. He would be such a wonderful father—already was one to Caleb. How could she disappoint him? She almost wished she weren’t pregnant.

  The thought shocked her and she silently begged God’s forgiveness. Thy will be done…she reminded herself firmly. Whether or not she carried this child to term was not in her hands or Levi’s—it was God’s will and there was a reason for whatever way things went. But she could not help praying nightly for their child’s health and well-being.

  “Are you sure you’re up to having everyone come here?” Levi was asking her as they watched Caleb mount the horse bareback and ride around the farmyard.

  They had insisted on hosting the celebration known as “second Christmas” held on the twenty-sixth. “Of course. Everyone is bringing something to share so there’s not much work to do.”

  “And you’re sure having Lily and the others is all right?”

  “They are our friends,” she said firmly. “And they have no place to go for the day. If that is upsetting to anyone, well, then…” Actually, she wasn’t sure. She knew there were some in the small Amish community who did not care for their ongoing association with these outsiders.

  “Too worldly,” she had heard one matron hiss to her neighbor as she passed the two women after last Sunday’s services.

  And Pleasant had told her outright that there were those in the community who were less than convinced that Levi’s baptism had been legitimate. “Merle says that several of the men think he came back to the church because of you. Merle also says that if Levi were sincere, he would have no further association with his former employees.”

  Hannah had learned that “Merle says” had become a staple in Pleasant’s conversation over the weeks that she and Levi had been gone. Merle Obermeier was a widower who had made no secret of his decision to pursue Pleasant as his second wife and the mother of his four children. He was a decade older than Pleasant, a dour and suspicious man who always seemed to look for the dark side of things.

  “Do you love him?” Hannah had asked Pleasant after becoming aware of the relationship.

  Pleasant had shrugged and Hannah’s heart had gone out to her. Did Pleasant not deserve the same happiness that Hannah had found with Levi? Surely there was a man out there somewhere who could give her sister-in-law that kind of happiness.

  “Don’t just settle because you think…”

  “I don’t just think,” Pleasant had replied bitterly. “I know. Merle Obermeier may be my last chance. He’s a good man, Hannah.”

  And Hannah had understood that the discussion of Pleasant’s future was closed. Well, Merle Obermeier might think otherwise but she knew that Levi had genuinely found his faith. He seemed almost relieved to be back living the plain life of his youth. As for Lily and the others, Merle could disapprove but Hannah and Levi would not turn their backs on their English friends. People would just have to understand. And if they didn’t? Well, she had no doubt that Levi would deal with that if the time ever came.

  Levi was aware that Hannah might be pregnant. The signs were all there, and yet she said nothing. In the mornings when she fought against waves of nausea, she mumbled something about a virus and sipped ginger tea to settle her stomach. He knew why she was keeping the news to herself. She was afraid of miscarrying and nothing he could do or say could quell that fear.

  He had talked to the doctor privately, seeking the man’s assurance that there was no medical reason why Hannah could not give birth. The doctor had advised patience. “The one thing you don’t want to be doing is adding to her fears.”

  But Levi felt such a compulsion to care for his wife and unborn child that it was all he could do not to tell Hannah what he suspected and demand that she allow him to worry with her. Demand, he thought as he watched her hanging laundry on the clothesline he had stretched like a tightrope between two large palm trees outside their back door. Demanding was the way of Levi Harmon, a man used to having his way. A man used to others giving him his way as if that were somehow his right.

  But Levi Harnisher understood that such thoughts were a part of the outside world. In the Amish world it was not his will, but God’s will that mattered. “Well, then,” he prayed quietly, “if it be Your will, give us this baby, this child that we share, and let us raise him or her in the way of our ancestors.”

  He pushed himself out of the rocker on the porch and went to help Hannah. The wind had caught a sheet she was trying to hang and it whipped away from her like a sail broken free of its mast.

  “Got it,” he called as he rescued the damp sheet from its landing place in her herb garden and carried it back to her.

  “It will have to be washed again,” she fussed as she wadded it into a ball.

  He picked it up and spread it over the clothesline, pulling clothespins from where she had clipped them to her apron and anchoring it there. “It’s fine,” he told her and then he placed his hands on her shoulders until she looked up at him. “Everything will be fine.”

  The tears welled in her blue eyes and he pulled her into his embrace and rocked her side to side.

  “How long have you known?” Her voice was muffled against his chest.

  “A while now.”

  “And yet you said nothing.”

  “Nor did you,” he reminded her. “But now we know—the three of us and…”

  She pulled back. “You told Caleb?”

  He chuckled. “No.”

  “Then who are the three of us?”

  “You. Me.” He placed one palm gently over her midsection. “And this child of ours.”

  She covered his hand with hers. “Tell me again,” she said softly.

  “Everything will be fine,” he repeated then added, “whatever happens. We have already been blessed beyond all measure just by finding each other, Hannah. If God sees fit to give us a child, then I would have to say that our cup would runneth over.”

  The sheer relief Hannah felt at being able to share the worries and joys of her pregnancy with Levi had the surprising effect of making her feel much better. On Christmas morning she hardly had any nausea at all, but she was glad that the routine called for prayer, fasting and quiet reflection on the true meaning of the day.

  With Gunther and his three daughters, Hannah, Levi and Caleb attended services at Merle Obermeier’s farm. He had the largest house so that everyone could be in the same room. The yard was already filled with buggies, unhitched and parked in a circle when they arrived, and more buggies had followed them up the lane. Caleb joined his friends to help lead the horses away either to the barn or to pasture. Hannah was relieved that Caleb had made new friends. New families had come to Florida in the last year—young families with children. The settlement growing up around the celery fields was becoming its own little community.

  Inside the house the air was warm because of so many people crowded into one room and also because Merle refused to open any windows, assuring everyone that the house would stay far cooler if they would simply come in quickly and close the door behind them. He stood sentry at the front door to see that
his instructions were followed.

  “All that fanning of the door—opening and then closing it only to immediately open it again. That’s the cause of all this hot air—that and Obermeier’s lecturing,” Gunther grumbled.

  “Papa, please.” Pleasant squeezed her father’s forearm. “It’s his house.”

  Hannah could not help looking around and trying to imagine Pleasant living here. Merle had been a widower for less than a year. There had been a time when rumor had it that he had cast his eye on Hannah as a possible second wife. But then she had boarded the circus train to go and find Caleb and Merle had made it plain to Pleasant that he could not tolerate such open trafficking with outsiders.

  Of course, Hannah pointed out the fact that Pleasant had made that same journey, but she explained that Merle saw her participation as unavoidable. After all, Gunther could hardly expect Hannah to travel alone. In his view, Gunther had gone along to keep an eye on Levi, and Pleasant’s role was to watch over Hannah.

  Hannah noticed that Merle’s two youngest children were running in and out of the house and up and down the stairs without one word from their father. Would Pleasant be able to teach them some manners and discipline them? Would Merle allow such a thing? For although he regularly reprimanded his eldest son and only daughter and cast sour looks in the direction of any mother whose baby was crying or whose toddler was making faces at another child, he turned a blind eye to the shenanigans of his own toddlers. Lydia had reported that the older two often missed school. The older boy was often ill, and Lydia worried that Merle’s daughter was being expected to take on far too much responsibility at home.

  Surely, Pleasant could do better than this, Hannah thought, and then she immediately sought God’s forgiveness. It was not for her to say whether or not Pleasant and Merle should wed. No more than it was for her to say if she and Levi would be blessed with the birth of their own child.

  Levi and Caleb sat shoulder to shoulder on the bench in front of her. Levi glanced back, his deep chocolate eyes inquiring as to her health.

  “I’m fine,” she mouthed and motioned for him—and Caleb—to turn their faces forward. But the truth was that the oppressive heat that was building in the room with each new arrival was getting to her. She felt flushed and lightheaded. The women were seated so close together on the bench that there was barely any room for what little air there was to circulate.

  She heard others singing the opening hymn and tried to follow along. Then Bishop Troyer said, “Shall we pray?” And suddenly the room began to undulate as if she had been pushed underwater and was trying to fight her way back to the surface. A thud and then nothing until she felt blessed fresh air and smelled the scent of newly mown grass.

  “Hannah?”

  Levi was on his knees cradling her in his arms. Pleasant arrived on the run, spilling half of the glass of water she carried. Caleb was fanning her with his broad-brimmed Sunday black hat.

  “Ma?”

  “I’m all right,” she told him. “Just overcome by the heat is all.”

  Caleb heaved a sigh of relief and grinned. “You weren’t the only one.” He pointed across the yard where others were attending to three other people—a woman, a girl and an older man.

  Levi chuckled. “When the fourth person went down, the bishop told Merle to open the windows or he was moving the services outside.”

  Hannah glanced toward the house and saw that every window had been opened wide. From inside she could hear the drone of the sermon the first minister was delivering. He was quoting the story of Jesus’s birth as recorded in the book of Matthew.

  “Hannah?” Levi leaned near. “The baby?”

  “We’re fine,” she assured him. “Now shush. I want to hear the story.” She clasped hands with Levi and leaned against him as the familiar words rolled out through the open windows and across the yard. She couldn’t help thinking that even though most people thought of snow and cold weather when they thought of Christmas, Jesus had been born in the tropics—a place not so very different from this place. Somehow that gave her a measure of comfort.

  When the services ended, Hannah insisted that she help the other women lay out a light lunch for everyone to enjoy before they headed for home. The meal was plain and sparse and the talk was of the feasts they would all enjoy the following day after the children presented their Christmas pageant at the school.

  “Let’s go home. You need to rest,” Levi told her when he came looking for her after the meal and found her scrubbing pans in Merle’s kitchen—pans that she suspected had nothing to do with the meal just served.

  “Yes, go,” Pleasant urged. “I can finish this.”

  “Where’s Caleb?” Hannah asked as Levi helped her into their buggy.

  “He’s walking home with a couple of his friends.”

  On the ride home, Hannah was overcome with exhaustion and within minutes of leaving Merle’s farm, her head rested on Levi’s shoulder and she was fast asleep. When they reached their farm, she roused enough to realize that Levi was carrying her into the house and up to their bedroom.

  “I have to…” she protested sleepily.

  “You have to rest,” he said. “We have a full day tomorrow.” He laid her gently on their bed, removed her shoes and then her prayer covering and pulled the pins from her hair, fanning it over the pillow. “Merry Christmas, my Hannah,” he whispered as he kissed her lightly on the lips and then tiptoed from the room.

  Hannah woke the following morning and realized that she had slept through most of the afternoon and all of the night. The first thing she noticed was that Levi was not in the room, although it was obvious that he had slept next to her as always. Then she heard muffled laughter and whispers in the hallway outside the closed bedroom door.

  Something clunked against the wall and then she heard Levi announce, “Special delivery!” followed by Caleb’s giggle.

  Hannah got up and put on her robe as she padded barefoot to the door and opened it. Caleb and Levi were standing there, both grinning broadly and each holding one end of the most beautiful cradle Hannah had ever seen.

  Her first instinct was to protest that it was too soon, that they could not be sure, that there might be no baby to fill such a wonderful cradle. But then she looked at Caleb and saw his pride in what he had obviously helped Levi build. “Do you like it, Ma?”

  “It’s wonderful,” she said.

  “It’s also heavy,” Levi added.

  Hannah swung the bedroom door open and stood aside while they carried the cradle into the room.

  “Where do you want it?” Caleb asked, glancing around the sparsely furnished room.

  “I think there,” Hannah said, pointing to her side of the bed. “That way I can rock the baby and go back to sleep.”

  “Ah, then I suppose the other piece will be on my side of the bed,” Levi said as he and Caleb set the cradle in place.

  “What other piece?” Hannah asked.

  Caleb was already back out in the hall and came through the door carrying a bentwood rocker. “This one.” He set it down in the corner. “Go ahead, Ma, give it a trial run—or rock, I guess.”

  Hannah sat in the beautifully crafted chair, running her palms over the smooth wood of the arms and pushing the chair into motion with one foot. “I love it,” she said huskily. Then she looked over at the cradle. “I love them both. But how…”

  “We worked on them down at the circus shop,” Caleb said. “Levi said we weren’t ready to let folks know about the baby yet and Jake—Mr. Jenkins—and the others promised to keep it secret so it all worked out just fine.”

  He was beaming. Hannah had not seen her son so happy since they had returned to Florida. “Thank you,” she said and held out her arms to him.

  “Ah, Ma,” he protested but he came to her and accepted the kiss she gave him on each cheek.

  Levi had stepped out into the hall again and returned with packages wrapped in brown paper and string. “I found these in the closet where you keep y
our sewing,” he said. He turned one package over, eyeing it curiously. “I thought just maybe…”

  “Yes, there’s one for each of you,” Hannah said, laughing. “That one’s Caleb’s.”

  Levi tossed the boy his package and Caleb sat on the side of the bed tearing off the string and paper. Inside were three new shirts and two pair of trousers.

  “You’re growing so fast,” Hannah said.

  “Thanks, Ma. Can I wear one outfit today for the pageant?”

  Hannah nodded.

  “There’s one more thing,” Levi said, handing Caleb a small package.

  Caleb unwrapped it to reveal a pocketknife. “It was my father’s,” Levi told him, and Hannah thought her heart would burst with joy at this sign that Levi had come to think of Caleb as his son.

  Caleb studied the knife for a long moment, turning it over in his hand. Then he looked from Hannah to Levi. “You know I was thinking,” he began, his voice cracking, “I mean with a new baby coming and all…”

  “What is it, Caleb?” Hannah felt her throat close with fear that maybe Caleb would not welcome a new child—another child.

  “It might be confusing for the kid if I’m calling you ‘Levi’ and he’s calling you ‘Pa,’ so I was thinking maybe—I mean if you wouldn’t care, I was thinking I could call you Pa?”

  Levi wrapped the boy in a bear hug and Hannah heard her husband’s voice crack as her son’s had when he said, “I think that would be a fine idea, son.”

  Hannah sniffed back tears of joy and rose from the rocker to complete the circle, wrapping her arms around the two of them and laying her cheek against Levi’s back.

  “Hey,” Caleb said as he wriggled his way free, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment at having caused such a scene, “you didn’t open your present from Ma yet.”

  “So I didn’t,” Levi said as he picked up the last pack age and turned it slowly over in his hands. “What could this be?” He squeezed the thick soft package.