Anna's Healing

by Vannetta Chapman

  “It’s nearly seven now. I’ll be back at eight thirty, which should give everyone plenty of time to eat. I hear there’s a gut breakfast at the Dutch Pantry in town.”

  A light laughter rippled through the crowd, like a breeze Jacob had been waiting for. Could it be that these people meant her no harm? Could he trust that this was all going to turn out all right?

  Anna had turned away from the microphone, when one of the reporters called out to her. “Where have you been, Anna? Is it true that someone took you? Can you tell us—”

  “Eight thirty. I’ll answer all the questions I can at that time.”

  As she stepped down, Anna reached for Jacob’s hand, and his heart swelled until he could actually feel it beating in his chest. They turned and started up the lane. Already, Anna’s family was running toward them—Martha, Erin, Samuel, and Chloe. She was a part of their family too. Their lives had been irrevocably bound together through the course of events Anna had endured. Jacob looked past them to the house and saw Mammi standing on the front porch. Her hands were raised, and he knew, he understood fully, that she was giving praise that Anna had returned home.

  The sight humbled Jacob. He had been so caught up in his emotions that he hadn’t thought to thank the Lord. His prayers had been answered, but his mind had rushed ahead to the next problem. As Anna’s family surrounded her—hugging and laughing and making sure she was fine—Jacob continued to the house. He sat down beside Mammi, allowed his head to drop into his hands, and uttered a prayer of gratitude.

  CHAPTER 66

  Anna had known, somewhere in the back of her mind, that her family wouldn’t like her plan.

  “I don’t see that it’s necessary,” her mother said.

  “Ya, and you’re just now home. Why stir them up again?” Samuel poked at his scrambled eggs with his fork. “We’re so glad you’re back, and now if life could return to normal—”

  “Can’t you see? Don’t you understand?” Anna felt frustration bubble up inside of her. She forced herself to take a calming breath and pushed on. “We won’t be normal as long as I’m hiding away in here. We’ll pretty much be waiting for the next desperate person to do something crazy.”

  “What will you say to them, Anna?” Erin fidgeted with the strings to her prayer kapp. “What can you possibly tell them that will make them go away?”

  “And why can’t you simply issue a press release?” Chloe had been the most adamant voice against her speaking directly to the crowd. “We can type up anything you want to say. There’s no need for you to go out there—”

  “Anna’s changed.” Mammi poured syrup over her hot biscuit, pausing only after she had it to her liking. “She sees things differently now.”

  “What can that possibly mean?” Martha asked.

  “Mammi is right.” Anna was grateful for the cup of coffee she held in her hands, and she wanted one of the hot biscuits, but her stomach was flipping and flopping, and she didn’t trust herself to eat yet. “I am seeing things differently, and I’m sure this is the right thing to do.”

  No one had an answer to that, so they finished their breakfast in silence. She glanced up from her coffee cup, saw Jacob watching her, and realized they hadn’t shared with anyone their feelings about each other. There would be time, though—plenty of time. For now, it was a sacred and intimate confession between them. She held on to that thought as her family finished their breakfast. It was good to be back with them. It was good to be home.

  Lacretia stepped into the kitchen. “It’s time if you still insist on doing this.”

  Anna nodded, and everyone pushed back chairs and carried plates to the sink. It was decided that they would all go down to the area where the lane turned into Samuel’s property together. Because Mammi also wanted to go, Samuel cranked up the tractor after he and Jacob had attached the truck bed with the benches. They all fit inside—but barely. Lacretia had offered to drive them down in one of their cars, but Samuel had declined. “If we must do this, we’ll do it as simply as possible.”

  As they drove closer, Chloe leaned in and said, “Looks like twice the number of news crews as we had last night. Didn’t take long for the word to get out.”

  There were indeed even more news vans lining the lane.

  Instead of being filled with despair at the sight, Anna felt a surge of hope. Perhaps if they could get the word out, this might work.

  She squeezed Chloe’s hand. “Stop worrying. You look like a mother with a wayward babe.”

  “I feel like one too!” Chloe shook her head before squaring her shoulders and smoothing frown lines away from her forehead. “Always smile for the camera.”

  “Ya. Sounds like gut advice.” The cameras made Anna uncomfortable, but she understood that a statement wouldn’t be enough. The people who were hurting needed to see and hear her. Not because of who she was, but because of what God had done.

  Lacretia had briefed the team at the entry on what was about to happen. They had spread out around and in front of the podium. Anna’s family stood behind her. There wasn’t enough room up on the wooden platform for everyone to stand together, but they waited close by. She could hear them and feel their support and love and prayers. She reminded herself of the real reason she was doing this, took a deep breath, and began.

  “As many of you know, I was injured in an accident nearly a year ago here on my onkel’s farm. Jacob…” She turned and smiled at him, and he looked back at her with complete love and steadiness. That look, that love, gave her courage. “Jacob saved me. He’s a friend, and he helps out around here.”

  There was the flash of cameras, and she could hear the whir of film crews. They had spoken of this, and it may have been the main reason her uncle resisted the plan. The Amish preferred not to be photographed. In this case, however, it seemed they were way past that problem. After all, her picture had been leaked all over the news when she went missing. Anna stood straighter and smiled for the cameras. She might need to ask forgiveness from her church later, but it was time to do this.

  “I think you all have probably looked over my medical records by now. You probably know a lot about me—even what I had for breakfast this morning.”

  Laughter spread through the crowd, and the tension eased. The sun was now shining fully. It was going to be another hot day. Anna noticed several families in the crowd, families with little ones who needed to be back at their home, not camping outside an Amish farm.

  “I suffered a complete spinal cord break. After some time in the hospital, I was transferred to a rehabilitation facility. Eventually I returned here to my onkel’s farm. I’m not telling you anything you don’t know, but I wanted you to hear the basic facts from me.”

  “How is it that you can walk now?” This from a newswoman who was scribbling madly on a pad.

  Anna waited for her to look up. “I don’t know.”

  “You mean—”

  “I mean I don’t know. I went to sleep one night a paraplegic and woke the next day able to walk.” People in the crowd shifted to better see her, but there was total silence. She could hear the call of a cow to a calf, and the neighing of one of the horses. “What I do know is that my family, my entire family and church and friends, prayed for me while I was ill. I believe that their prayers are what caused God to answer and to heal me.”

  The reporters had stopped writing on their pads. Every eye was now trained on her, but Anna turned and sought her grandmother. Mammi smiled and nodded slightly, one hand lifted halfway to heaven.

  “I can’t tell you why God did that. I don’t understand anymore than you do, but what I do know, what I’m certain of, is that He cares for us. He has a plan for me and one for each of you. Whether I’m in a wheelchair or standing in front of you, He can use me, and one way is as good as another.”

  “But what of my child?” This from a woman who rolled a stroller back and forth. She looked frail and worn. She looked as if she wanted to lie down and sleep for days. “My child is dying. Are
you saying that God can use her death? I’ll have nothing to do with such a terrible deity.”

  Anna thought of Karen and Spencer and Peggy. She had refused to give Lacretia their names, only saying that it had been a misunderstanding, one they had managed to clear up. No one had been hurt, and she didn’t want to press charges. But the pain in this woman’s eyes, the woman whose babe was dying, it was the same pain she’d seen in Spencer’s eyes.

  “When I was a child, I would play outside until darkness fell.” Anna swallowed and pushed on. “I’d stay there as long as my mamm would let me. But she cared for me, and so she would call me inside. She’d call me home. She didn’t do that because she was angry or because she disliked me. She did it because home was where I belonged.”

  The woman who had asked about her child began to weep. Anna wanted to go to her, but she knew she couldn’t. She was relieved when a man stepped forward and put his arm around her.

  “Are you saying there’s nothing you can do for us?” A man with one leg stood near the back of the crowd leaning on his crutch, but his voice could be heard clearly. “Or that you won’t?”

  “I was not given the gift of healing, if that’s what you’re asking me.”

  “Then why? Why were you healed and so many others are still hurting?”

  “I don’t know.” Tears slipped down Anna’s cheeks. She’d asked the very same question so many times in the last week, and still she had no answer. “What I do know is that we all have a finite amount of time. We should spend that time wisely, with the ones we love.”

  There were many more questions. Anna tried to respond to each one, though after a few minutes she was aware that she was repeating herself. Obviously, she was not giving them the answers they had sought.

  She had no miracle cure.

  She had no answers.

  She was a young woman, and she was still figuring out what had happened. As two reporters in front vied for her attention, she thought again of Spencer and Peggy, and their love for Karen.

  She held up a hand to stop the reporters, stepped closer to the microphone, and tried one more time. “Our families are a gift, ya? Our love for one another, that is a true miracle. Gotte’s love for us? It’s difficult to understand, but we can still believe in it in the same way we believe that the sun will set this evening and rise again tomorrow. You want me to tell you how to stop the pain that plagues you.”

  She looked out, scanning the crowd from left to right, and seeing some from her Amish community on the edges.

  “I can’t tell you that. But I can tell you, with certainty, that your love for each other is stronger than the suffering. And Gotte’s love?

  “The length and width and height and depth of our Father’s love is greater than anything we can imagine.”

  CHAPTER 67

  Chloe stayed another hour. They all rode back to the house, where Anna insisted that she wanted to spend a little time in her garden. They walked together down the rows, pausing to prune some plants and pull ripened vegetables. The tension from the morning, from the last week, seemed to drain into the soil.

  But soon Anna began rubbing her eyes and yawning. Chloe laughed when she dropped onto the wooden bench in the corner of the garden.

  “You’re exhausted, and yet you fight it.”

  “Ya, I feel like a child who refuses to take a nap.”

  “Well, you were up all night.”

  Anna nodded, and then she told Chloe everything that had happened—she described Spencer and her fear and the drive and the motor home. She told her about Peggy and Karen. She tried to put into words how much that family loved one another.

  “I suppose all families do.”

  “Ya, but we don’t always show it. Life keeps us busy. In Spencer and Karen’s case, life had finally slowed down. The job was over. The house was sold. What was left was the relationship between them.”

  Chloe stood, reached for Anna’s hands, and pulled her to her feet. It was obvious her friend was exhausted. She finally convinced her to go inside and rest.

  Jacob and Erin walked Chloe to the car.

  “Thank you for everything,” Erin said, enfolding her in a hug.

  “Jacob, call from the phone shack if Anna needs me.” She waited until he nodded before starting the car and driving down the lane.

  Already the crowd had dwindled to only a few folks.

  Anna had been right. Hiding had made it worse. When she answered their questions, when she allowed them to see her, the need to wait and stare and photograph disappeared.

  Chloe pulled out onto the blacktop and waved at the two officers who remained. It had been decided that they would stay until evening. Samuel wanted the farm to return to normal. If people insisted on trespassing… well, the Amish in general didn’t mind a visitor or two. Perhaps he could sell them something from the produce stand.

  As she pulled down the road, she spied a dog walking along the fence line. She couldn’t remember ever having seen a dog at Samuel’s place before. Maybe it was a stray. The dog was medium build, a mottled blend of Labrador and blue heeler if she guessed right. As she looked in her rearview mirror, the dog slunk down beside the property fence, ducked under it, and trotted toward the house. The stray moved as if he had a destination in mind.

  Tonight she would file another report, perhaps the final report on Anna. What would she say? How could she possibly describe the events of the past week?

  Suddenly she realized that people’s responses weren’t dependent on her or her ability to turn the perfect phrase. There were three types of people who would read her piece. The first would be those who were simply curious. She couldn’t blame them. Miracles were rare occurrences. These people weren’t personally invested in the story, but they would want a conclusion, as if it were a book they needed to finish and feel good about. They were waiting for the happy ending.

  The second type of people was more desperate. They longed for a cure to whatever ailed them. When they realized the cure wouldn’t come through Anna’s hands, they would quickly turn to the next story or prophet or remedy.

  Chloe didn’t need to write an article for either of those two groups. She realized now that writing was more than a job, it was a calling. She needed to approach it with prayers for wisdom. She needed to consider the influence her words had on people—and at the moment she was concerned about the third group. The group that would recognize the truth when they heard it. The people who needed to be nudged back toward home, toward their faith, and toward the future God already had planned for them.

  The words formed in her mind as she drove toward her apartment. She could see the article taking shape, and she stopped worrying about whether or not she could do it. Her mind moved past the job, and she realized she hadn’t seen her mother since they had spent the night at her house.

  Chloe reached the suburb where she lived in a downtown apartment. As usual, vendors had opened up their shops and had moved displays out onto the sidewalk. She nabbed a parking spot in front of her building, grabbed her purse and computer, and locked the car. Turning, she walked back toward the corner store, which carried fresh coffee and hot pastries. She could use one of each. But that wasn’t what had caught her eye as she’d driven by.

  Near the door was an old washtub filled with water and holding various bouquets of flowers. She chose one with yellow and white daisies—her mother’s favorite. She would go upstairs, file her report, and then she would call her mom. Perhaps they could share a meal. It was time that she stop avoiding her childhood home because her father wasn’t there. Admitting that she had done so for so long hurt. She’d thrown herself into her job so that she could avoid the hole wrought by her father’s death. But she still had family, and she wanted to embrace that.

  Her mother was alive and well, and Chloe wanted to spend time with her. She’d slowly come to realize, over the last year, that she missed her mom, something that was completely unnecessary because she lived only a few miles away.

&nbs
p; “It’s a beautiful morning to buy flowers.” The clerk smiled at her as he rang up her purchases. He was probably Chloe’s age, tall, with a crew cut and wearing a green work apron.

  “It is,” she agreed. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before.”

  “I started a few days ago. My brother—Andre—is expanding to include a deli. He needed some help, so I volunteered.” He shrugged and handed her the change and a drink carrier holding her coffee and a pastry stuffed in the side. “My name’s Carlos.”

  Normally Chloe would have thanked him and turned away, but today was different. In the back of her mind she was still thinking of Anna and her admonition that they all had a limited amount of time. She was thinking of the length and width and height and depth of God’s love. So instead of walking away, she juggled her packages and held out her right hand.

  “I’m Chloe. Nice to meet you, Carlos.”

  His polite smile turned into a grin. “Nice to meet you.”

  She started toward the door. She stopped with her hand on the glass, turned back, and added, “Welcome to the neighborhood.”

  CHAPTER 68

  August gave way to September, cooler temperatures, and another approaching harvest. The weeks since Anna had been healed, abducted, and returned had been filled with highs and lows. Some days she was sure what path her life should take. Other days? Not so much.

  One surprise was that they had adopted a stray hound dog and named him Jake. He was completely devoted to them, and Anna delighted in sitting on the porch and running her hand through his fur.

  Looking out the window over the kitchen sink, Anna realized that winter wasn’t far away. She would need to decide soon if she was staying in Oklahoma or returning to Indiana.

  They had finished dinner, and Anna was helping with the dishes as Jacob walked to the barn with Samuel.

  “Those two, they walk about like father and son.” Erin smiled as she dipped dinner plates into the sudsy water.