Winter of Wishes

by Charlotte Hubbard

“Well, we split off to form new groups when we reach about twenty families, because that’s about all a preacher or two and a bishop can handle,” she replied. “So if Hiram moves away, that means we’ll have a drawin’ of the lot between our preachers, and one of them’ll be the new bishop. I thought ya might want to know about that, if . . . if you’re still thinkin’ to become Amish.”

  He chuckled. “That’s about the best Christmas present I could ever hope to receive, Rhoda. So how are your mom and Ben and the others reacting to Hiram saying God was telling him to do all this?”

  Did Andy know something he wasn’t saying just yet? Rhoda cleared her throat. “Well, we wonder about it, jah. But nobody was tellin’ Hiram they didn’t believe him. He invited families to join him, to get the new town started up, but so far I haven’t seen anybody jumpin’ in with him.”

  Once again there was a short pause. Rhoda shifted with the excitement of talking to Andy again, and her curiosity was bubbling like soda pop. “So what was that idea ya wanted to talk to me about?”

  He chuckled. “It’s so good to hear you sounding happy again, Rhoda. I was wondering, though,” he said in a more pensive tone. “If you’ve been forgiven and taken back into the membership, does this mean you’re still forbidden to see me?”

  “If ya really, for sure and for certain want to join us, I can’t see where that’s a problem anymore,” she replied pertly. “As long as folks here understand your intentions, why—I could even help ya with learnin’ our language and doin’ things the Amish way, and—”

  “What’s your schedule like this week, with Christmas coming up? I’d like to meet with Preacher Tom, and you, and if your mother or Ben or anyone else would care to join us, we can talk about exactly what I need to do,” he continued with quiet excitement. “I want Taylor and Brett and Mom to be in on this, as well, so they understand the big picture.”

  Rhoda sucked in her breath. Andy was sounding very serious about changing his faith—for her. “But I want ya to know something,” she said in a somber voice. “If we tell ya things that don’t sound like a gut fit for ya, or if your family thinks it’s not gonna work . . . I’ll understand.”

  She closed her eyes, choosing her next words carefully. “And if that’s the way of it, I won’t hold ya to joinin’ us. Even Rebecca, sister that she is, knows that bein’ Amish just isn’t the right thing for her. And that’s okay. I still love her.”

  “Wow,” he said with a sigh. “You’re the best, Rhoda.”

  She got all tingly inside, but then recalled the rest of his question. “Christmas Eve we’ll all go to the schoolhouse for the program the kids put on each year. We’ll spend Christmas Day at home with our families, ponderin’ on the miracle of Jesus’s birth,” she began. “But then the next day is our Second Christmas, and that’s when all the fun happens! Jerusalem wants us to come to Hiram’s house on account of the twins needin’ to stay put once they get home—”

  “Will that change, now that Hiram’s revealed his new plans?”

  Rhoda thought for a moment. “I’m thinkin’ Jerusalem and Nazareth might spend Christmas Day with Ben and his brothers, so the Knepp family can have their own day together. Which means Second Christmas will be Hiram’s only chance for a big dinner—and no doubt he’ll be talkin’ up his new colony while the rest of us are there.”

  “What if I ask Preacher Tom to meet with us on Saturday, then? He’s probably spending those two Christmas days with his own family—”

  “Jah, he’ll visit his married daughters, most likely.”

  “Ah, good. Now tell me the truth, Rhoda,” Andy went on in his low voice. “If you girls and your mom will be smack in the middle of wedding preparations on Saturday—”

  “We’ve got time for you, Andy,” Rhoda chirped. “Naomi and the Hooley sisters are headin’ up the wedding feast, and they’re helpin’ us redd up the house for the ceremony, too. The dinner’s to be held in the Brennemans’ shop again. We got lots of practice at this when Rachel and Micah got hitched in October, ya see.”

  Andy let out a low laugh. “This all sounds so delightful,” he remarked. “So together, with all your family and friends doing everything for each other, I . . . I yearn to feel such close connections, Rhoda.”

  “Well,” she replied quietly, “we can show ya how that’s done. I’ll tell Mamma and Ben about Saturday, then. Just let us know the time and where we’re to show up.”

  After immersing herself in the music of Andy’s voice as he told her how his family would spend Christmas, she hung up with a happy sigh. This had been quite a day of revelations.

  Miriam gazed out the window in the loft apartment’s kitchen. The fresh snow sparkled like a million little diamonds as the sun rose over Willow Ridge, and the rolling hills and pastures around them shimmered in their Christmas morning finery. A brilliant red cardinal perched on a bare branch of the sweet gum tree as though he were gazing at her. Her heart felt happy yet subdued as she turned toward Rhoda, who was setting the table for their simple breakfast.

  “This is the first time in my life I’ve spent Jesus’s birthday with just one other person to help me celebrate,” she remarked quietly. “But I’m glad that one other person is you, Rhoda. A blessed Christmas to ya.”

  “And back to you, Mamma.” Rhoda wore a deep red dress and a smile that held secrets, yet she looked radiant. Truly happy. “What with Rachel spendin’ her day with Micah’s family, and Rebecca bein’ with her dat, and the Hooley bunch all gettin’ together in the apartment above the mill, it seems we all have our places. And we’re all with the folks we love best, ain’t so?”

  “Ya said that just right, honey-bug. And that breakfast casserole’s smellin’ mighty gut while it bakes.” Miriam chuckled as she stirred the apples that were simmering in the skillet with butter and cinnamon. “Never thought I’d say this, but it’s nice to have some of our favorite leftovers from the café’s freezer for our dinner. And while it’s felt mighty different, not gettin’ up in the middle of the night to bake this week, it’s gotten me into the right frame of mind for thinkin’ about the Christ Child . . . and contemplatin’ how different things’ll be after I marry Ben next week.”

  Rhoda bussed her on the cheek. “You’ll adjust fast, Mamma. Seems like Ben’s been one of us for a long time.”

  “Jah, he blew in with a storm and just that quick I fell for him.”

  Her daughter’s eyebrows rose as she pulled their casserole from the oven. “You understand how it’s been for Andy and me then, ain’t so? I know ya think we’ve not known each other long enough to be gettin’ serious, but I’ve told him he can back out of becomin’ Amish, if somethin’ doesn’t sit right.”

  Miriam’s lips twitched. She’d left herself wide-open for that, hadn’t she? They sat down, bowed their heads briefly, and then smiled across the little table at each other. “It made me feel better, hearin’ Andy wanted to meet with Tom and the rest of us. Nothin’ to hide that way. I’ve always told ya to go after what makes ya happy, honey-bug, and I’m not all that surprised that ya chose an uphill road. Ya never were one to accept the easy, fast way. And I’m proud of ya for that.”

  “Oh, Mamma.” Rhoda blinked back tears. “It means ever so much to hear ya say that.”

  “Faith and love can weather any storm. I’m willin’ to help you and Andy, long as ya follow the path Preacher Tom sets out as the proper way to do this.” As Miriam stepped into her open blue bedroom to fetch a gift she’d been keeping in her nightstand, her heart overflowed with so many feelings. Her three daughters were so much alike, yet each had grown up her own way with such confidence and grace. Miriam handed the wrapped gift to Rhoda and then sat down again. “I’m hopin’ you’ll use this as your guidin’ light when it seems your biggest questions don’t have any easy answers.”

  Rhoda slipped her finger beneath the tape, saving the wrapping paper as they did whenever it was possible. “Oh, Mamma,” she murmured again. “A New Testament—”

  “The
one my folks gave me on my baptism into the church. I wanted ya to have it.” She paused, as a lump had risen into her throat. “When your dat and I published our intent to marry, Mamm and Dat were none too happy. Oh, they thought Jesse Lantz was a nice enough fella, but they’d had their hopes set on a boy my age from down the road, because his mamm was best friends with mine.”

  She smiled as she recalled that time, so many years ago. “Jesse grew up in a different community. He’d set his sights on comin’ to Willow Ridge because they were in need of a farrier, and he’d found this piece of ground he liked. Had the house built as my wedding present . . . even if I had nothin’ to say about how it all came together,” she added with a wry smile.

  Rhoda smiled sweetly. “So ya broke your parents’ hearts and hitched up with him anyway.”

  “That was the way of it, jah. And I never looked back. It was the right thing for me to do, and they eventually accepted him.”

  Rhoda ran her hand reverently over the old Bible’s cover and then set it on the kitchen counter to keep it clean. “Denki, Mamma. I’ll treasure it always.” Then she flashed a kitty-cat grin and walked over to pull her Murphy bed down from the wall of the pale green bedroom . . . took something from between its mattress and the frame. In this tiny apartment with its rolling walls and open rooms, hiding Christmas gifts was a challenge. “Haven’t quite finished your present, Mamma, but here’s what I’ve been doin’ while ya were up so early bakin’ that last week before we closed up the café.”

  At the sight of so many fabric colors, Miriam stood up to finger them. “My word, child, what on earth—?”

  “New dresses, Mamma! You’ve been too busy to sew, what with Rachel’s wedding and runnin’ the café,” Rhoda said as she laid the stack of cut-out pieces on the loveseat. “So I thought ya might like some perty new colors for your perty new life with Ben. Some are for winter, and some for spring.”

  Oh, but her eyes feasted on the bright apple green . . . the deep pink of the fuchsias that hung in baskets on the porch . . . a blue like robins’ eggs . . . the yellow of the tulips in her spring garden. “My word, Rhoda, I’d have chosen these colors as a younger woman—if the bishop back then would’ve allowed us such bright dresses—”

  “Puh! Ben thinks you’re plenty young enough. And as for what the bishop thinks, well—” Rhoda shrugged. “It won’t be Hiram tellin’ ya these colors are unfit for Plain women, ain’t so? It’s all worked out to the gut, for those who love the Lord.”

  “Jah, there’s that.” Miriam’s eyebrows rose as Rhoda returned to her bedroom and shifted some of the dresses in her small closet. What could she be up to now? To think this daughter had slipped up to the house to use the sewing machine on those cold, dark mornings . . . well, it was a gift such as Miriam had never expected. And it meant Rachel was in on the surprise, too, yet she hadn’t given the least hint!

  When Rhoda pulled out a brilliant royal-blue dress, along with a glimmering white voile apron, Miriam’s hand fluttered to her mouth. “Oh, honey-bug—”

  “Jah, it’s your wedding dress, Mamma. Rachel and I made it, and a new kapp for ya,” she said with a quiver in her voice. “Not many daughters get to do that for their mamms. It was a special treat to sew it for ya, because you’re a truly special woman, Mamma.”

  Miriam grabbed her daughter in a hug, laughing and crying all at once. “You girls and your secrets! I was thinkin’ I needed to stitch up a new dress, but ya beat me to it.”

  “We’ve been keepin’ each other’s secrets since we were born, Mamma.” Rhoda eased away to gaze into Miriam’s eyes. “There’s more to that, but let’s eat our breakfast before it gets cold.”

  And what did that mean? Miriam savored each bite of the cheesy bread casserole studded with sausage chunks, onions, and bits of bacon. It was best to let her girls carry this through rather than spoil the morning’s fine mood with too many questions. She and Rhoda were sharing the last sweet spoonfuls of their fried apples when Miriam heard the smithy’s outside door open and bang shut. Sure enough, a familiar pattern of footsteps ascended the stairs and their visitor knocked before she entered.

  “Jah, Sister, come on in,” Rhoda called out. “Sorry we didn’t save ya any of our breakfast. We can scrape ya up something if ya want.”

  Rachel waved her off and came over to hug Miriam. “Merry Christmas to ya, Mamma,” she said. “Might be my first Christmas as a Brenneman, but some things still have to happen a certain way, ya know?”

  Another little mystery. Miriam pondered this as Rachel slipped out of her coat and bonnet, for she’d already made her peace with her married daughter spending the day with her new family.

  “So what do ya think of these bright colors Rhoda’s been sewin’ up for ya?” Rachel asked, gesturing toward the partly completed dresses and capes. “Mary Schrock teased us about you switchin’ over to the Mennonite side when Rhoda picked out that fabric in her shop. But we thought ya could at least wear them for chorin’ if they didn’t suit ya for—”

  “Those will not be my chorin’ dresses, silly goose!” Miriam shot back. “And I thank ya for that wedding dress, too. Mighty thoughtful of the both of ya, to see that your mamm’s got herself covered.”

  “At least until Bennie-boy gets ahold of ya,” Rhoda teased.

  “Jah, well, we know what comes of that sort of shenanigans, ain’t so?” Rachel chimed in. Then she focused her shining blue eyes—Jesse’s dear eyes—on Miriam. “I wanted to tell ya this before I broke it to the Brennemans, Mamma. I’m perty sure we’ve got a baby on the way.”

  A little yelp escaped Miriam as she stood up to throw her arms around Rachel. “Oh, honey-bug, that’s just the best news! I’ve heard ya upchuckin’ a few times and I was wonderin’—”

  “Jah, Rhoda guessed before I did. I was thinkin’ it might be a flu bug—”

  “Puh! When have ya ever gotten the flu, Sister?” Rhoda shot back.

  At the same moment Miriam opened an arm, Rhoda stepped into their huddle . . . the wonderful, warm circle of love they’d shared many times since Jesse’s passing. This blessed news was one more thing she wished she could have shared with him. But then, he already knew, because he was watching over them from heaven.

  And wasn’t that the perfect sentiment for this Christmas Day? Miriam sighed happily as she held her daughters close. “Well, now. This’ll go down in my memory as the nicest Christmas Day of all, girls. Everything I need to feel joyful and at peace is right here in this room.”

  Rhoda chuckled. “At least until the wedding next Thursday, jah?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  On Friday, Second Christmas, the Knepp kitchen bustled with the usual preparations for a big holiday meal. Rhoda felt the undercurrent of nerves . . . saw the strain in Annie Mae and Nellie’s eyes, and detected a tightness around the Hooley sisters’ mouths, as well. What with having the twins to care for, Jerusalem had asked Mamma to roast the chickens and bring the stuffing and gravy for the traditional Christmas meal, while she, Nazareth, and Hiram’s girls had cooked up an array of side dishes. Rachel had baked bread and Rhoda had brought a box of her cookies.

  “Well, if anybody goes away hungry today, it’s their own fault,” Mamma said cheerfully. She lifted the lid from one of the big pots on the stove. “Oh, green beans with tomatoes! I’ve always liked the red and green together, and it’s a nice change from the casserole with the mushroom soup, ain’t so?”

  While Jerusalem and Nazareth joined in with Mamma’s happy chatter, Rhoda and Rachel clustered near the Knepp girls to slice the bread and arrange cookies on a platter. “So how’s it goin’ with your dat?” Rhoda asked quietly.

  Annie Mae glanced around to be sure none of the little ones were listening to them. Timmy and Sara were playing with their new Lincoln Logs near the kitchen doorway, while Josh and Joey played Chutes and Ladders in the front room where the men were visiting. “We’re not sure,” she murmured. “Dat stayed at the hospital most of the time the twins were there
. He’s been tendin’ to a lot of business away from home ever since.”

  “Which has made it easier,” Nellie remarked quietly. “But he surely must be gettin’ his ducks in a row for whatever God told him to do about that new colony.”

  “Rhoda and Rachel!” Jerusalem called from the other side of the kitchen. “Try this goat cheese on a sliver of that fresh bread! Tell me what ya think of it.”

  Rhoda glanced over to see the older Hooley sister holding up a lidded container she’d taken from the fridge. “Now that’s something I’ve never tried. But if you made it, Jerusalem, it’s got to be gut.”

  “Ach, but the twins just gobble it down. It’s more fun for them to milk the goats when they see somethin’ tasty comin’ out of their efforts.”

  “They won’t be goin’ out to the barn for a while yet,” Nazareth remarked. “But it’s mighty fine to have them home and doin’ so well, even with those casts on their arms and legs. Worried us, while they were havin’ so many tests to see how their insides were doin’.”

  “Jah, the gut Lord was watchin’ out for them when they went flyin’ out of that sleigh,” Mamma agreed.

  Rhoda took the spoonful of cheese Jerusalem offered her, and she spread some of it on a slice of bread, breaking it in half to share with her sister. They took their first bite together, and Rachel’s eyes lit up just as hers did.

  “Mmm! Creamier than cream cheese,” Rachel said with her mouth full.

  “This would taste gut on a lot of things,” Rhoda said. “Maybe stuffed in celery, instead of peanut butter.”

  “Oh, back home in Lancaster, we made macaroni and cheese and pizza and all manner of things with our goats’ cheese,” Jerusalem replied with a chuckle. “Even used it as the cheese layer in lasagne casseroles—”

  “And it makes real different grilled cheese sandwiches, too,” Nazareth remarked. “What with some baby goats on the way, we’ll have more milk than we can use up once the new ones are weaned. Then they’ll start producin’, too.”