A Promise for Miriam (26 page)

Her dad seemed to like it. Her teacher liked it. And she liked it.

What else mattered?

Stanley nibbled at the crust of bread she dropped in his box and then ran to the other side where the cheese from yesterday still sat.

“This afternoon is our big day. Our feast day. I’ll bring you something special from the meal. I promise.” Brushing a finger over his back, she laughed when he tickled her with his whiskers. Placing the lid back on the top of the box, she secured it with the string her dad had given her and then set it back on the shelf above her coat peg.

Stanley had plenty of air holes, windows she’d carved and covered with wax paper, even tiny trees she’d created for him from limbs and leaves. He had a nice place to live on his shelf. Sometimes she wondered if maybe he needed another mouse to play with and keep him company. She’d have to keep her eyes open in the barn.

Walking back into the kitchen, she made sure her dad’s
kaffi
was on the hot part of the stove. This morning their meal would be small because it was Christmas. Miriam’s mom, Abigail, had sent Noah over with fresh bread. Grace had taken some cheese out of the icebox and placed it on a platter with a knife, though she wasn’t allowed to cut things when she was alone.

Maybe next year. Some things had to wait.

She’d also brought in the milk for herself. It would be their only meal until later this afternoon.

You’d think that would be a sad thing, but in a way it was fun. It made the Christmas celebration all the more exciting. She glanced across the counter, where she’d placed the food she’d chosen from their pantry to take to Miss Miriam’s. She’d picked out her favorite vegetables, canned by her
mammi
Sarah and
mammi
Erma at their old home—golden butternut squash, bright-red stewed tomatoes, and green beans seasoned her favorite way.

The back door slammed and she spun around.

“
Gudemariye
, Grace Ann.”

“
Gudemariye
.” She’d wondered if her dad might be sad this morning. Sometimes holidays made him miss her mother worse. She missed her mom too, but the hurt was less every day—like her frostbite. She wondered if that made her a bad person. Before she could think about it too long, he’d scooped her up into a hug.

“It seems there’s something I’m supposed to remember about this day, but I can’t quite recall what it is.” He spun right and then left, with Grace hanging over his shoulder like one of the sacks of feed he carried into the barn. “I thought I might remember while I was in the barn, but nope—”

“It’s Christmas!”

“What’s that you say?”

He dropped her onto the floor and placed his hands on his hips.

“Christmas.” Her giggling bubbled up and out.

“Huh. Are you sure?” Rubbing his beard, he clomped over to the calendar on the wall and stared at it a moment in disbelief. “Seems that just yesterday was the school presentation.”

“That was Friday. You worked in the barn yesterday!”

“
Ya
. Now I’m remembering. Must be old age stealing my memory.” Gabe patted his stomach and glanced over at the counter. “And I see you have a special Christmas breakfast ready for us. What a good
dochder
you are.”

Pride swelled in Grace’s chest. She’d known he was kidding about forgetting it was Christmas morning. No one forgot that. But he wasn’t kidding about the breakfast. She could always tell when he was serious because he pulled down on his beard and his face went all soft.

Skipping across the room, she hugged him tight.

No doubt about it, she had the best dad in the world.

They ate their breakfast slowly because they didn’t have to hurry anywhere. Her dad wouldn’t be working anymore until it was time to feed the few animals they had in the evening. It wasn’t a church Sunday, and because it was Christmas everyone was staying home with their own families.

So they enjoyed their bread and cheese. Gabe sipped his
kaffi
and then had a second cup, which he hardly ever did. They were usually hurrying to meet Eli’s buggy for school. Today he refilled the mug and sat back down beside her. Snow was falling outside, but it was a light snow and he said it would probably stop by afternoon.

“Can I sled later?”

“I bet you can. Should be lots of kids at Abigail and Joshua’s.”

Grace thought she would know some of them from school, but there might be a few from other schools. She wasn’t as worried about meeting new people now that she could talk. It didn’t seem that kids teased her as much as before.

She took another bite of her bread and cheese. It was odd eating it for breakfast, but that was what he’d told her to lay out when they’d talked about their Christmas meal the day before.

“Do you know why we eat simply on Christmas morning, Grace?”

She shook her head.

“I suppose it’s to remind us that Mary and Joseph didn’t have much in that stable when Mary was giving birth to the baby Jesus.”

Grace took another bite of the bread. This time it tasted differently to her.

“Probably Mary carried some supplies with her, or they could have bought some things along the way, but it’s doubtful they could have stopped and cooked something in a barn, especially with her giving birth.” He turned the mug of
kaffi
in his hands. “I probably shouldn’t be drinking this. I don’t know if Joseph was in the habit of drinking
kaffi
or not. He probably drank hot tea. Either way, I imagine he could have used a good strong cup that morning.”

They talked another few minutes while she finished her food. Things started making more sense to her, especially as she remembered the skits and poems on Friday night. It had been funny when the donkey had fallen over, but she’d ridden a real donkey before and it wasn’t all that comfortable. Wasn’t nearly as comfortable as riding in their buggy behind Chance.

“How about I clean up these dishes and then we’ll read the Christmas story from Luke? You want to get your
mammi
Sarah’s Bible?”

Grace thought that would make the morning perfect. She helped him carry the dishes to the sink and then went to retrieve her Bible from its special place on her dresser.

The morning went like that, not in a speedy blur, but flowing slowly. She almost didn’t want it to end.

When it was time for them to leave for Miriam’s, she stopped him at the door, reached up, combed her fingers through his beard, and whispered, “
Danki
.”

“For what, my Grace?”

“For a
wunderbaar
Christmas morning.”

They both knew it wasn’t perfect, but it was their best one yet since they’d been alone. She walked out into the afternoon sunshine with high hopes that things could only get better.

Chapter 31

W
hen Gabe pulled up to Abigail and Joshua’s house, he thought perhaps he had his afternoons mixed up. Maybe there was a Sunday church meeting going on. Buggies were lined up along the fence bordering the pasture, though all the horses had been taken into the barn. He counted more than a dozen.

How many children did Joshua and Abigail have?

Of course, a few friends would be invited as well, like himself. He glanced over at Grace to see if she was intimidated by the size of the crowd. A grin was splayed across her face. She tugged on his coat and pointed toward the small hill situated beside the barn. A large group of children were lined up with their sleds and saucers. A few off to the side were engaged in a snowball fight while they waited their turn.

“Want to come inside first?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Okay. Do you need me to help you with your sled?”

“Yes, please.”

He was unloading her sled from the back of the buggy, which was one they had bought for her when she was smaller and probably wouldn’t last another year, when Hannah appeared.

“Hey, Grace. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Hannah!”

“Headed to the hill?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So am I. Want to walk with me?”

“Can I,
dat
?”

“Sure. Think you girls can drag this sled over there?”

“No problem,” Hannah said. “I have six
bruders
and
schweschders
.”

“Pulled a lot of sleds have you?”

“
Ya
. My fair share.”

He watched as they shuffled off through the snow. It wasn’t very thick, not more than a foot. They’d had only a few light snowfalls over the last few days, but the children would make the best of it.

Squeals and laughter followed him as he carried the box of vegetables and the gift he had for Abigail and Joshua inside. He stopped and checked his pocket to make sure he had the ribbon, and then he nearly bobbled it and dropped it in the snow.

“Is that red ribbon for someone special?” Noah asked, slapping him on the back.

He thought of Miriam but bit back the words. “
Ya
. It is.” He stuffed it into his pants pocket. “Merry Christmas, Noah.”

“Merry Christmas to you. Glad you could make it.”

Gabe glanced back at the row of buggies. “Are you sure there’s room for two more?”

“There’s always room for two more. Come on inside. I’ll have one of the boys see to your gelding. It helps that the weather is good enough to let the older children play on the hill. Otherwise we would have to shoo them into the barn.”

As they walked into the main room, Gabe understood what he meant. Every chair and couch was occupied by women, men, grandmothers, grandfathers, aunts, and uncles—and many of them were holding babies. Miriam was rocking one of them. She glanced up, her eyes locked with his a moment, and then she looked away.

“Welcome to the family,” Noah laughed.

“I didn’t realize there were so many Kings,” Gabe joked.

“Half of us go to our church district,” Abigail explained as she accepted the box of goodies. “And the other half belongs to the district on the other side of Cashton.”

“A divided family,” Joshua muttered as he swiped a cookie off the counter.

“Now, Pop, you’re not going to start that again, are you? We’re a mere buggy ride away—and Pebble Creek runs through both districts, keeping us united.” Extending his hand to Gabe, the larger version of Joshua added, “David King. Middle son.”

“Nice to meet you, middle son.”

“You must be the brave man who bought the Kline place.”

“I am.”

“I want to hear how that’s going. Kline’s land was good, but he never took proper care of it.” Unlike his conversation with Clemens Schmucker the week before, Gabe could tell there was no animosity in David’s comment.

“You’re right about that. Maybe you could give me some ideas on what to do with the south pasture.”

“That I could.”

The hour passed quickly until the food was served, and it wasn’t as much a meal as it was a feast. Gabe would have been embarrassed about the vegetables he brought, but Miriam complimented him on them and Abigail asked, “Did your
mamm
put these up, Gabe?”

“She did.”

“I wonder if you’d mind writing her and asking what she seasoned them with.”

“I’d be happy to.”

They couldn’t have known how much their comments put him at ease, because they were said in an offhand way as they passed around roasted chicken, baked ham, mashed potatoes, fresh baked bread, and more vegetables than he’d seen in a month. He was convinced their comments were sincere when the bowls with his mother’s vegetables reached him. They were close to empty. He took a small spoonful and passed them on. He had more put up in his pantry, but she would be tickled when he wrote her about it.

The children returned to their play outside for another hour while the meal’s cleanup took place. Though the women reigned in the kitchen, the men moved the benches that had been set up for the meal and spread them around the sitting area so that there would be more space for the gift-giving.

“We draw names at Thanksgiving, so each person has had a month to prepare their gift,” Joshua explained.

“
Ya
, it was the same way in my family.”

“I believe Abigail has something for your girl.”

“That wasn’t necessary. I explained to her we’re visitors.”

Joshua shook his head as they moved the last bench. “You don’t know my wife very well yet. She keeps a box of small presents for situations like this. She’d never let a child go without a gift.”

“Actually I haven’t given her my gift. I brought one that I bought from the store, and then I’d planned to pick up the other from Miriam before we leave.” Gabe pulled the red ribbon from the pocket of his pants. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to her yet.”

“She snuck away to take Pepper the ham bone. You’ll find her in the barn.”

Miriam knelt beside Pepper as he enjoyed his special dinner. “Merry Christmas,” she whispered, rubbing him between the ears. He gnawed on the bone, pausing occasionally to glance up at her. She realized how foolish it would sound if anyone heard her whispering Christmas wishes to a dog, but fortunately she was alone for the moment.