Ella Finds Love Again (30 page)

“The people had stories of the old days when King David ruled the land, and when his son Solomon built the most beautiful temple the land of Israel had ever known. The people then had plenty, they said, and the walls of the cities had been secure and the babies were born free. But now Rome ruled the land. Cruel Rome, they said in whispers, and wished to be free.

“The temple rulers read the Scriptures on the Sabbath, but the words seemed to mean little. And with each year that passed, the words meant less. Words about a Savior who would come and save His people from their sins. Sin, they knew about, but ‘saving’ meant nothing to them.

“Then one night, out of nowhere, with no warning except to a few people, a young woman and the man who was to become her husband rode into the town of Bethlehem on a donkey. They didn’t want to be there, hadn’t planned to give birth in this town. But all the inns were full, and Joseph couldn’t find a place to spend the night. They walked all over town looking for a place because Mary knew she would soon have her baby.

“Her husband, Joseph, finally found the only place left in town to stay—a barn. There among the sheep, the goats, and the horses, baby Jesus was born in a manger, and all He had to lay in was straw and some swaddling clothes.”

“What’s swaddling clothes?” Mary asked.

“Something like strips of blankets. See, Joseph and Mary were very poor and very far from home.”

“Was it like this?” Mary asked, motioning around the barn.

In the flickering light of the lamp, Ella said, “Yah.” It seemed very possible.

“I would have wanted to be there,” Mary said.

“They say the animals talked with the Savior that night, right after He was born,” Ella said.

“Even the horse?” Mary turned around to stare toward Moonbeam.

“I think so,” Ella laughed. “But that’s just what they said. We don’t know for sure.”

“I believe it!” Mary said, still not turned around. “Will the animals ever talk again?”

“Perhaps when the Savior comes back,” Ella said. What Preacher Stutzman would think about such an idea, Ella wasn’t sure.

“I want to hear a horse talk,” Mary said, and Sarah nodded in agreement.

“We do know one thing,” Ella said. “There were angels that night who appeared in the sky, out where the shepherds watched their sheep in the fields. They sang wonderful songs, filling the heavens with the joyful sound. They said the Savior had been born in Bethlehem, that peace had come to the earth, that goodwill was given to mankind because
Da Hah
would take away their sins.”

Ella paused, caught up in her story. She glanced over Mary’s and Sarah’s heads to Moonbeam. He blinked in the dim light, looking very much like he wanted to talk. Ella smiled and then said, “And that’s the story of Christmas. The birth of the One who would save people from their sins…Jesus Christ.”

Mary yawned as Ella gathered baby Barbara in her arms and led the girls to the barn door. The moon would be enough light, so Ella blew out the kerosene lamp. They headed to the house.

On the walk back they paused to look at the stars. There was not a cloud in the sky; the air was crystal clear. Ella could easily imagine bands of angels suddenly appearing and singing beautiful songs. What she couldn’t understand was why peace and goodwill hadn’t come.
Da Hah
’s ways were strange sometimes and hard to understand.

“I want to see angels!” Mary said, waving her hands at the heavens.

“Yah, that would be nice,” Ella agreed. “Now, let’s get you girls inside before you freeze.”

“I like the barn,” Sarah said. “Can we do this again?”

“Christmas only comes once a year,” Ella said.

“Then we can do it again next year,” Mary said.

“I hope so,” Ella whispered. “I really hope so.”

Thirty-seven

O
ld Christmas Day dawned dreary, the clouds hanging heavily on the horizon. Ella had planned to sleep in and hadn’t set the alarm, but she now stood by the basement window, the girls still asleep in the bed behind her. She felt groggy and weary, having awakened before she planned to. This was her people’s day to celebrate the Savior’s birth, but the truth was that celebrating was far from her mind.

Still it
was
Old Christmas and something should be done. Memories of last night with the girls in the barn cheered her thoughts a bit. What could she do that might make the day more memorable? Should she make a late attempt to visit her parents?

Nee
. With Eli gone, this first Old Christmas at her parents’ place wouldn’t be a very cheerful affair. Was that then a good reason to go? To cheer up her parents? But what had she to give them? Very little in the state she was in.

To
give.
The thought gripped her. After last night with the girls and the story of the Savior’s birth, this was what she should do—what she
wanted
to do. The memory of Ivan’s face rose before her. Could she give to
him
? Did she dare?

With a steady gaze at the low, heavy clouds, she pondered the question. The world seemed such a cruel place, with what men did to each other and with what life did to them. Were actions made holy because they were called holy? What would happen to her if she dared to do the unspeakable—take a meal to Ivan? A knee confession at most, if she was caught. But so what? If it came to that, she could bend her knees and say the necessary words.

The years stretched out in front of her. Years to be lived in the faith, keeping free from the dangers of the world. Those years seemed bleak indeed if she drew back from this moment. In the frozen landscape of her heart, this last token must be given to love. Before the death of all desire came, she would
give
and value the consequences less than the gift. Yah, on this Old Christmas Day she would go to Ivan. She would take him supper—the best she could make. Furthermore, she would eat with him, sitting at the same table.

Ella felt no fear at the thought. Her heart was stirred. If she could never love a man like she had loved Aden, then perhaps she could love one like the Savior would.

With purpose Ella returned to the kitchen. Only the best would do. She took the flour out and began to make bread, even though two loaves already sat on the kitchen counter. Ivan loved freshly made bread.

With the fire hot in the stove, the basement warmed up quickly. Ella smiled when she had to crack the window by the door. The action seemed to fit the day now, the window to her heart would also remain open for a little time.

Mary and Sarah awoke, apparently from her bustling in the kitchen.

Ella quickly helped the two girls up and then made them breakfast. As they ate, she returned to the bread dough.

“Why are you still cooking?” Mary asked as she finished her egg.

“I’m making a special meal for this special day. We’re going to take the meal to your daett’s place. And then,” Ella concluded with satisfaction, “we are going to eat with him.”

“But it’s not Friday,” Mary said.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ella said. “It’s Old Christmas Day, and it’s a special day. We’ll come back here afterward, and you’ll stay until Friday like usual.”

“Why can’t we stay at Daett’s?” Mary asked. “Like you did once a long time ago.”

“Because we’re not married,” she finally said.

Mary looked at her but didn’t say anything.

“Perhaps your daett will marry again soon,” Ella said, trying to put hope in her voice. “Then you can all be together in the same house. And you will have a real mamm to care for you.”

“You’re our mamm,” Mary said.

“I try to be,” Ella said. “But you know I’m really not.”

“I know,” Mary said. “But I wish you were.”

“Dear heart,” Ella said, pausing to draw her into a tight hug, “I wish so too.”

“Can we help?” Sarah asked, pulling on Ella’s sleeve.

“Of course, dear,” Ella said, letting Mary go. She gave them each a little dough to knead as she peeled potatoes, remembering her mamm’s instructions to keep the peelings thin. Ella felt a lump in her throat at the thought that the girls might never receive such instructions.

“Do it like this,” Mary said, demonstrating her technique to Sarah, who watched carefully, and then tried to imitate.

Ella watched, caught up in their efforts.
Does Ivan fully understand what his decisions mean for those of us around him?
She placed more wood on the fire. She needed to get her mind on more cheerful thoughts. What good would her efforts be if she arrived long-faced? That really wouldn’t do.

“Tell us the story again,” Mary said, forming a small loaf with her dough.

“Me too,” Sarah said, nodding rapidly.

“You mean the story of the Christ’s birth?”

“Yah,” Sarah said. “The one about sheep and goats that can talk.”

“It really wasn’t about that,” Ella replied, smiling. “But I can tell you the real story again.”

They waited with expectant faces, but the story was interrupted by baby Barbara’s cry from behind the curtain. When she had been changed and seated in the high chair with breakfast in front of her, Ella tried again. Even the baby seemed to listen as Ella spoke, her hands busy helping Barbara eat. When the babe was full, Ella moved to the counter and worked with the bread dough and on the meat for the main dish.

“That’s a good story,” Sarah said when it was over. “I want to hear it again.”

“You can hear it next year,” Mary said in a big sister voice.

They worked on, taking time for a brief lunch at noon, and by late afternoon—after the girls had taken their naps, the food was ready. Ella got the girls up and dressed warmly. She left Mary and Sarah to watch the baby while she harnessed the horse. With Moonbeam in the buggy shafts, she tied him to the hitching post and brought the girls out and then returned inside for the food.

She carried out two old quilts, one to wrap around the casserole and the other around the bread and rolls. Ella squeezed them in carefully in the back of the buggy, satisfied the casserole wouldn’t tip over during the trip. The blankets made huge lumps, and would keep some of the warmth in the food on this wintry day.

The girls said little on the drive over. They were wrapped up in the buggy blankets. Perhaps their spirits were affected by the weather or by the undercurrent of seriousness in the journey.

Before long Ella pulled in the Stutzman driveway. “Here we are!” she said as the girls leaned forward and looked for their daett.

The yard looked cleared of snow—at least between the house and barn. Otherwise the place looked deserted. Was her errand to be rendered useless by Ivan’s absence? It was a possibility she hadn’t considered. Perhaps Ivan was in town—or somewhere else.

“I don’t see anyone,” Mary said, pulling the buggy blanket down from her chin.

“Well, we’ll get out and look,” Ella said.

If Ivan wasn’t home, surely Susanna would be there with their father. She could leave the food with them if necessary.

Ella climbed down from the buggy and headed for the barn door. Once inside, she looked for signs of Ivan, but found none. “Hello!” she called, her voice echoing in the silence. Through the window to the barnyard, she could see the cows and hear their mooing, indicating they were waiting to be milked. Ivan had to be around somewhere then. The cows increased their soft bellows with more hope and urgency.

Just as Ella was ready to go back out, the door to the silo opened and Ivan appeared, a pitchfork in his hand. Silage covered his hat, and he seemed embarrassed at the sight of her. He took off his hat and knocked it against his leg.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” he said, offering a tentative smile.

Ella looked him over for any signs of
Englisha
influence. He hadn’t looked any different when he dropped off or picked up the girls, but he might around his own place. From what she could see, all his clothes were the usual Amish garb.

“It was kind of sudden,” she said. When he didn’t answer, she said, “Well, I don’t see signs of
Englisha
clothes on you.”

“Would you leave again if you did?” he asked.

“Perhaps,” she said.

“So?” he said, letting the word hang. “You are here.”

“Yah…I brought supper. I thought it might be a good idea, being that it’s Old Christmas and all. The day of
Da Hah
’s birth.”

“That’s nice,” he said, smiling. “It’s been kind of lonely.”

“I suppose so. I see you haven’t done all your chores yet.”

“Yah, I do need to finish,” he said. “But I am thankful for the food you brought.”

“Why don’t I help with the rest of the choring?” she offered. “First, I’ll take the food inside to keep it warm in the oven. I don’t know what we can do with the girls though. Is Susanna home?”

He shook his head. “Daett and Susanna are gone. And you don’t have to stay. Really.”

“But I want to. I want to help.”

“Okay,” he shrugged. “I guess they won’t excommunicate you for that.”

“Then what do we do with the girls?”

“I have a stall cleaned out over here where I let them play sometimes.” He motioned with his beard, looking embarrassed again.

“Oh, well why not? I’ll bring them in and then take the food to the house.”

“Yah,” he said. He watched her leave and then returned to his work.

The girls giggled when Ella told them the plan as she took them inside the barn. She then went out to wrap a horse blanket over Moonbeam. She would stay for supper, but not too late.

Her food took two trips and the fire in the stove took a little while to catch. Ivan didn’t keep things handy or where she expected them to be. The lack of a woman in the house was obvious.

Afraid the fire would stay too warm during the time it would take to do the chores, Ella set the casserole on the stovetop instead of in the oven. If it was cold when they came in, that could be remedied. Burnt food couldn’t. The bread and rolls she also left on the stove shelf. What heat could reach them would have to do for now.

Outside, dusk had begun to fall. Ella made her way quickly to the barn. Inside the girls went to the stall where their daett had set aside an area for them to play in. Baby Barbara was able to sit on a hay bale with Mary and Sarah on each side of her, holding her up.