Naomi’s Christmas (24 page)

“I could drive you,” Seth offered.

“Denke, but we have already made arrangements.” And she suspected that Nathan wouldn’t
be best pleased if she allowed Seth to drive the children.

Joshua and Sadie, clutching their candy, vanished into Emma’s room, and for a moment
before the door swung closed Naomi could hear Sadie’s high voice exclaiming about
her candy.

“I can’t imagine a kid being that excited about vending machine candy.” Seth was frowning.
“I guess I’d forgotten how much you miss, growing up Amish.”

“I do not think they would trade their faith and their family for a vending machine,”
Naomi said.

“Like me, you mean.”

She shook her head. “I don’t suppose your leaving had anything to do with vending
machines, either.” She reminded herself to be cautious. If she hoped to enlist his
help for Jessie, she shouldn’t
antagonize him. “But you are back now, and that has made Emma very happy at a time
when she needs cheering up.”

“I hope I’m making this time easier for her.” He frowned, and she wondered if he was
thinking about Jessie. “What was all that business with Jessie, anyway?”

“It’s not the first time she has spoken that way to me,” Naomi said carefully. “It
is troubling.”

“I know my mother has been worried about her. But Mamm always says she’s just immature.”

“Is that what you think?” she asked directly.

Seth shrugged, as if trying to rid himself of a burden he didn’t want to carry. “I
think it’s not my business. My mother is the best judge of what my sister needs.”
His tone made it clear that he wouldn’t discuss his sister with her.

Naomi could hardly force him to talk about it. But was she the only one who saw that
something was very wrong with Jessie?

S
aturday’s
snow had only dropped an inch, which quickly melted. But snow was threatening again
on Sunday morning, and Naomi had a feeling they wouldn’t get off so lightly this time.
Fortunately worship was being held just a couple of miles down the road at the Weaver
farm.

Naomi rode with Libby and Isaiah, their buggy closely following the one carrying Nathan
and the children. When they’d reached the Weaver place, it had seemed natural for
Sadie to run to Naomi. When she’d walked into the Weaver family’s basement to take
her place holding Sadie’s hand, she had felt as if the appearance were the reality—that
they were any Amish mother and daughter.

But it wasn’t true. Sadie leaned against her, eyes drooping closed, and Naomi moved
her gently to a more comfortable position. She might look like the children’s mother,
but she wasn’t.

Emma’s disturbing comments zigzagged through Naomi’s
thoughts like lightning, illuminating the painful truth of her situation. She had
gotten herself into just the place she’d vowed she wouldn’t, raising someone else’s
children, loving them without having the right to be loved in return. In fact, everyone
believed it impossible for her to be loved for herself.

Sadie sighed a little, drifting into sleep with her head on Naomi’s lap. Naomi patted
her, love clutching her heart. A slight movement from the row behind caught her eye,
and she turned her head.

Leah, with little Rachel Anna dozing on her lap, smiled at her. She returned the smile,
feeling a bond with the young mothers who filled the bench behind her. Leah, Anna,
and Naomi’s sister-in-law Lovina sat next to one another with their children, and
it occurred to Naomi that it wasn’t an accident that they were so placed. They were
wordlessly showing support for her.

Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked until her vision cleared and she could see the
minister’s face again. What was she going to do about Daad? That worry had nagged
at her for weeks, it seemed, but with the news of his complaint to the bishop it had
taken on fresh urgency.

She did not want to be at odds with her father. She did not want to give up the work
she was doing with Nathan’s children. Surely it didn’t have to come down to one or
the other.

Please.
The prayer was so incoherent it was nearly wordless.
Guide
me.

When the service wound to its close, Naomi realized that even though it had given
her no answers, it had comforted her. More, she knew one thing she must do as soon
as possible. She must speak to Bishop Mose.

There was a bustle of activity as men began the task of transforming the worship space
into the eating space, while women scurried up and down the stairs with trays of food.
Sadie woke, obviously refreshed by her nap, and ran off to find her brother. Across
the large open area Naomi spotted Elijah helping to move a table. Beyond him, Daad
stood against the wall with several of his friends, deep in conversation.

Momentarily adrift in a crowd of people, all of whom seemed to have jobs to do, Naomi
sidled toward the steps. She would go up to the kitchen and see what she could do
to help. She’d just reached the top when someone moved into her path. Her fingers
gripped the railing when she saw it was Bishop Mose.

Forcing a smile she didn’t feel, she took the remaining two steps to reach him. She
realized she was holding her breath, and she let it out, scolding herself. This was
Bishop Mose. She’d known him all her life.

“Naomi, I was chust hoping to see you.” When Bishop Mose smiled, the resulting crinkles
in his face seemed to testify to his years of caring for his people. “I wanted—” He
stopped, noticing that he was blocking the path to the basement. “Komm,” he said.
“Let us find a place a little less crowded.” He nodded toward the back door. “Out
on the porch, maybe, if you don’t mind the cold.”

“I could do with a breath of air.” Naomi opened the door and followed him out onto
the porch.

Bishop Mose steered her to the corner of the porch, and she realized that was deliberate.
Here, no one would spot them and wonder what they were talking about.

“I hoped we could talk today.” Her breath came out in a
cloud on the cold air. “Someone…I heard at the Christmas program that my daad had
come to you about my behavior.” That much came out in a rush, and then she stopped,
unable to say more.

“Ach, you should not have heard about it that way.” Bishop Mose looked vexed, but
not, so far as she could tell, with her. “I suppose someone who was in the harness
shop that morning couldn’t wait to pass on the story.”

She blinked, determined not to give way to tears. “If the story is true, it doesn’t
matter how I heard, I suppose.” For an instant she hoped against hope that Mary Esch
had been making up the tale, but she couldn’t quite believe that comforting thought.

“Did the person who passed on the story mention how I responded to your father?” Bishop
Mose’s blue eyes surveyed her shrewdly, and she suspected he knew full well who the
tale-bearer had been.

“N-no.” It startled her to realize that she had barely even considered Bishop Mose’s
response in all her worrying.

“I thought as much.” He leaned against the porch post, seeming willing to stand here
in the cold for as long as necessary. “I told your daad that it was not appropriate
to air his complaints with his child in a public place. Further, that Scripture tells
us that if we have a quarrel with a brother or sister in the faith, we must go to
that person and try to make it right.” There was a suspicion of a twinkle in his eyes.
“I think you can guess how he responded to that idea.”

She could, and she was emboldened by that twinkle. “I think Daad would say that Scripture
also tells us a child should obey its parents.”

“Ja, you have it.” Bishop Mose shook his head slightly. “Sam Esch is a gut man, but
that is not the same as being wise. You are his daughter, but no longer a child.”

“Denke.” Naomi breathed the word, her throat tight.

Bishop Mose frowned slightly. “You are doing a gut thing, I believe, taking care of
those motherless kinder. Sam would probably agree if he were not so stubborn. There
is no fault in the choice you have made, Naomi. But is there a fault in how you have
dealt with your father? Have you tried to talk to him and explain what you are doing
and why?”

Humbled, she shook her head. “I am at fault, too. Daad has not tried to talk with
me, but I have not tried to talk with him, either. At least, not as much as I should.
I must try again to explain.”

Would it do any good? She didn’t know, but her conscience convicted her of not trying
hard enough to bridge the gap between them.

“Ja, that is what you must do. And if your daad still will not do his part to mend
things between you, then he is the one to carry the burden of that failure.”

The words sounded so final that they hurt Naomi’s heart. But she had asked for guidance,
and it had come. Now she had to follow it.

When
Isaiah drove the buggy between his place and Naomi’s on the way to the stable, the
first huge flakes were starting to fall. He halted the horse by the back porch. “Libby,
you and Naomi go ahead and climb down. No point in you getting wet.”

“It’s snow,” Libby exclaimed, sounding like one of the children to Naomi. “It is worth
getting wet just to see it.”

Isaiah met Naomi’s eyes and grinned. “Ja, I know. I’d like to stop and play in it,
but I think the mare would just as soon be in her warm stall.”

Libby spun around once, holding out her arms as Isaiah drove on. Then she stopped
and smiled at Naomi just as Isaiah had done. “Isaiah thinks he has to act like a grown-up
just because we are married.”

“Even grown-ups can enjoy the first big snowfall,” Naomi said. “I heard some folks
at worship saying that we are supposed to get several inches. Joshua and Sadie will
be clamoring to get out their snow saucers, I think. Maybe they will let you borrow
one for a ride.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” Libby said, “but I have my own saucer up in the barn rafters.”

“I won’t tell if you’ll let me have a ride,” Naomi promised. Her young sister-in-law
constantly amused her. She and Isaiah made a good match, both able to take things
as they came and find joy in each day. That was a valuable gift.

“I promise,” Libby said. “Don’t forget you’re coming over to share supper with us.”

“I won’t. I’ll bring the apple pie.” Naomi headed for her own house. She couldn’t
deny that she’d like to be out in the snow as well, but she’d rather change clothes
first. Enjoying the snow required her thicker socks and her old jacket, as well as
a muffler and mittens.

She went on in the house. Libby’s playfulness had distracted her for a few minutes
from that conversation with
Bishop Mose, but the moment she was alone, it all came flooding back.

Well, at least she had to be grateful that the bishop understood and agreed with what
she was doing. But the feeling that she had disappointed him by not doing more to
mend the breach with her father wouldn’t go away easily. Somehow she had to find a
way to talk to Daad on her own, even though her heart cringed at the thought of receiving
another dose of his anger.

Making peace was never easy, it seemed. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be, or folks wouldn’t
value it so much. She would just have to pray that God would give her the right words
to say to her father.

Gathering her sewing, she sat down in the rocker by the kitchen stove. The world was
so quiet when it was snowing. That provided peace of a different kind, but none the
less valuable. She would sit and rock and glance out at the drifting flakes while
she worked on the doll for Sadie’s Christmas gift.

Soon the snowflakes were driven, not drifting, and the white powder began to pile
up on the ground. The weather predictions were right, it seemed. She had just about
finished stuffing the doll when she heard noises outside. A muffled clop of hooves,
the faint jingle of bells…She went to the window and peered out just in time to see
Nathan’s buggy horse come up the lane, pulling the old cutter she’d noticed in his
barn.

Nathan and the children, well bundled up, waved to her and shouted greetings to Isaiah
and Libby, who were already hurrying out their back door.

Naomi tucked the sewing out of sight and grabbed her
jacket, as excited as a child herself. In moments she had joined the others at the
sleigh. Snowflakes swirled around her, and she wrapped the muffler more securely around
her neck.

“What is all this?” she asked. “Surely it can’t be Joshua and Sadie in a sleigh!”

“It is, it is!” Sadie crowed, bouncing on the narrow seat. “Daadi got the sleigh out.”

“It’s a cutter,” Joshua said, with his passion for being exactly right.

“Ja, so it is,” Isaiah said. “And aren’t you lucky that Daadi had it in the barn?”

“We almost sold it last year,” Nathan said. He grinned, the sparkle in his eyes about
as bright as the children’s. “It’s a gut thing we didn’t, ja?”

“Why would you sell it?” Libby stroked the curving runner, looking as if one of her
Christmas wishes had come true.

Nathan shrugged. “As fast as they plow and cinder the road these days, there’s not
much use for it. And the lane has to be clear, as well, for the milk trucks. You can’t
drive a cutter over the cinders very well.”

“So this is the perfect day,” Naomi said, smiling at the excitement even as it bubbled
in her, as well. “The plow drivers won’t be in any hurry since it is Sunday.”

“They certain-sure won’t be out while it’s still snowing.” Nathan smiled down at her
and extended his hand. “Komm, Naomi. You get the first ride.”

Something about his smile, about the way he extended his hand, reminded her forcefully
of those moments in the bee yard when they were covering the hives. She took a quick
step back.

“Let Libby go first,” she said. “I know she’s dying for a ride but she won’t ask.”

“Ach, I can wait—” Libby began.

Isaiah cut her words off by lifting her bodily up into the cutter. The children scrunched
over to make a space for her, and she laughed as she grabbed hold of the side. “All
right, ja, I’m as excited as the kinder,” she said.