Plain Christmas (Plain Fame Book 6) Page 15

  Anna walked around the side of the car, Samuel in her arms. “Aw, now, Amanda,” she said, smiling at Nicolas. “Big boy like him? Why, I bet he could carry two of those boxes!”

  He grinned at her and eagerly took the box from his mother.

  The presence of the SUV in the driveway of an Amish farm caught the eye of several of the men lingering nearby. With their broad-brimmed black hats and identical black suits, the group of men looked fierce as they stared in the direction of the Englische newcomers. Alejandro, however, raised his hand, greeting them with a confident wave. He turned back to the car to help his mother get out.

  One look at her face was all that Amanda needed to see to know that Alecia was shocked.

  “¿Qué es eso?” she asked as she looked around the farm. “This isn’t a church, Alejandro!” She spun around and stared at her son, her eyes wide and a confused expression on her face. “It’s someone’s house, sí?”

  He took her elbow in his hand and started to guide her toward Amanda. “Mami, I told you . . . ,” he said in a low voice.

  Amanda tried to intervene. “Alecia, had you forgotten that Amish worship in the homes and not church buildings?”

  “I . . . I suppose I had,” she stammered, letting Alejandro lead her toward the entrance.

  At the door, Alejandro gave Amanda a reassuring smile and silently turned his mother over to her care. Alejandro headed over to where Jonas now stood and began shaking hands with some of the men who lingered outside of the barn. Most families arrived early for the service so that the men and the women could catch up on the latest news and the younger adults on the latest gossip.

  “This is all so strange,” Alecia whispered to Amanda.

  “You’ll be fine,” Amanda said. “I promise.”

  Inside the house, the women, all dressed in black dresses, stood in a large semicircle just inside the kitchen, while two younger women were organizing the food that people had brought with them. The room felt very large because the partitions between two rooms had been removed in order to accommodate the two hundred people who would attend the service. Toward the back of the room, simple wooden benches were set up, two sections facing each other with a space in the middle. Amanda knew that was where the bishop and his preachers would give the two sermons.

  “Amanda Beiler!”

  She looked up as one of the young women hurried over to her and, with a warm smile, shook her hand.

  “Katie Miller!”

  “Ach! Look at you, now!” Katie took a step back. “Why, you haven’t changed one bit!”

  Amanda knew that wasn’t true, at least on the inside. “No more so than anyone else,” she replied, trying to sound demure as she deflected the compliment.

  “When we heard that you were coming, we thought you’d bring those photographers with you again!” Katie gave a little laugh.

  Inwardly, Amanda cringed. She suspected that, at some point, word would spread about their plans to celebrate Christmas in Lititz. But she also knew that if any of the paparazzi showed up, it would not be a media circus like the first time Alejandro stayed at the farm. Back then, so many photographers had camped out at the end of her parents’ driveway that the road was almost impassable, and the bishop had asked Amanda to stay with relatives in Ohio until things quieted down.

  “Danke for having us today,” Amanda said, purposefully not responding to Katie’s comment. “This is my mother-in-law, Alecia, and my son, Nicolas.” She gave Nicolas a little bump with her hip so that he remembered to shake Katie Miller’s hand.

  “You won’t understand much of what the preachers say,” Katie said as she greeted them. “It’s all in German, you see. But we’re glad to welcome you.”

  Alecia didn’t speak, her eyes wandering around the room, looking at the benches and the women.

  “Come, Alecia. We must greet the others,” Amanda whispered and started to walk toward the waiting line of women. “And don’t worry. No one will try to kiss you.”

  “What?”

  Amanda hadn’t had time to explain that, at Sunday worship, the women greeted each other with a holy kiss based on Paul’s command: All the brethren greet you. Greet ye one another with a holy kiss. She knew that this Scriptural practice would surprise Alecia, and she would certainly have questions later. But, for now, Amanda focused on following her sister to greet each woman with a handshake and a kiss on the lips.

  Alecia followed and awkwardly shook every woman’s hand, the color draining from her cheeks and her eyes wide as if from shock. As they assumed their place at the end of the line, Amanda noticed that Alecia stood close to her, as if afraid to be far removed.

  Next to her, Anna held Samuel against her hip while she greeted people.

  “Let me,” Amanda said, reaching out for the child.

  Happily, Anna passed him over to her. He gave Amanda a big smile, displaying the few teeth that he had. As usual, he did not fuss and clung to her side, his big eyes staring over her shoulder at all of the different people standing nearby.

  Several of the older women greeted Amanda but continued down the line without pausing to chat. She wasn’t surprised nor was she offended. It had been several years since she had been to a worship service, and she was an outsider now, not a part of the community. Realizing this filled her with a sudden sense of sorrow. Her children would never know what it was like to have a genuine support system like the Amish. The older Isadora, Sofia, and Nicolas grew, the more they would encounter people who merely wanted something. People often tried to use Alejandro and Amanda for their own purposes, usually involving increasing their own wealth or fame. Just like Alejandro used to say to her: everyone seemed to want something from him. So why would it be any different for the rest of their family?

  A few minutes later, a hush fell over the gathering. Alecia leaned over and whispered, “What’s happening, hija?”

  Amanda glanced toward the door. The bishop and preachers had entered the house, a signal that the service was about to begin. “It’s the bishop, Alecia. Service will begin when they take a seat, but they have to greet the women first.”

  One by one, the bishop, the preachers, and the host of the worship service slowly walked down the line of women, shaking hands and simply stating, “Good morning.”

  With great curiosity, Amanda watched as the bishop approached her. The last time she had attended a worship service, he had been visiting another church district, and she hadn’t seen him. He had aged over the past few years, his beard still white but thinning and his shoulders stooped forward. When he stood before her, she saw that his skin was light and papery, age spots covering the back of the hand that he stretched out to greet her.

  He mumbled, “Good morning” before he recognized her. And then, he paused.

  “Good morning, Bishop,” she said. She turned to Alecia. “May I introduce my mother-in-law?”

  Suspiciously, he eyed Alecia before greeting her and then looked back at Amanda. She wondered what he saw—probably a young woman who was far removed from the Amish girl she had once been, at least on the outside. But she hoped that he could see beyond that. For her heart was still faithful to God, even if she worshiped him privately instead of through a life of humility and plainness.

  “It’s good to see you,” he said in German, before he continued greeting the other women.

  Those five simple words took Amanda by surprise. She stared after him for a few drawn-out seconds before she returned her attention to the next man, one of the preachers who stood before her, waiting for her greeting so that he, too, could continue down the line.

  Once the bishop and preachers finished, they walked to the benches and sat down in the first row on the left-hand side of the room. Now it was time for the women to take their seats. Since they sat from oldest to youngest, Amanda gestured for Alecia to follow her mother so that she wouldn’t have to sit in the back of the room with the young mothers with children.

  “Go on,” Amanda coaxed. “Mamm will tell yo
u what to do.”

  But Alecia did not look convinced. Lizzie gave her no choice, standing and waiting for her with an impatient expression on her face. “Kum now,” she said in a loud whisper. “You’ll be holding up the others.”

  Reluctantly, Alecia went with her, leaving Amanda trying to not smile at her mother-in-law’s look of panic.

  “Where’s Abuela going?” Nicolas asked.

  “With Mammi Lizzie. She’ll be fine.” Amanda reached down and put her hand on his shoulder. “You look very handsome, Nicolas,” she said softly. “Now if you can just try to not squirm during the service, Mami will be so proud of you.”

  He lit up at her words and straightened his shoulders. “I’ll try, Mami. But if I have to go potty, don’t get mad.”

  She stifled a laugh, the room being far too quiet to have that overlooked.

  The women with their children sat down on the benches on one side of the room, facing where the men would sit. The bishop and preachers sat in the center of the room, appearing to be deep in reflective thought. Once the women were settled, the men began to walk into the house from outside. Quietly, they entered the kitchen and walked single file through the benches to assume their spots. Only after they had sat did the unmarried young adults enter, women first and men second. When everyone was finally seated, as if on cue, the men reached up for their black hats and simultaneously set them under the benches where they sat. The movement was fluid, and Amanda smiled when she saw Alecia, who sat two rows in front of her, give a little jump.

  Even though she was a guest and not a baptized member of the Amish church, Amanda sat beside her sister on the hard bench. Beside her were Isadora, Sofia, and Nicolas, the three of them staring at everything, taking in all the different sights and sounds of this Amish worship service. After the initial silent prayer, the bishop and preachers left the room, and the congregation started singing a hymn from the Ausbund, a book of songs that had been used in Amish worship for almost five hundred years. The hymns, written in High German, were sung in a slow, a capella style. Despite not understanding the words, Isadora seemed to follow along in the chunky black book that she held in her hands. Sofia and Nicolas, however, began to fidget by the time the first thirty-minute hymn was finished.

  Amanda placed her hand on Nicolas’s knee and felt him lean against her. Sofia leaned forward and glanced at her, mouthing “How much longer?” Amanda merely shook her head and looked away. Whispering during an Amish church service was simply not allowed.

  As the hymn ended, the bishop and preachers returned to the room. Amanda knew that they had left to discuss who would preach the two sermons. She never quite understood why this was an on-the-spot decision, but it had been that way for as long as she could remember.

  The bishop stood up in the front of the room. He had been selected to preach the first sermon, the shorter of the two. His voice seemed to rise an octave, and he spoke in a singsong manner, his words a mixture of High German and Pennsylvania Dutch. Beside her, Nicolas sighed, and she began to feel his body go limp. Like several of the other children, he was falling asleep. As the room began to grow warm from so many people sitting there, Amanda knew that others would doze off, even if only for a few minutes.

  “And we are all like lost sheep, full of sin and straying from the pasture where the shepherd had led us,” the bishop was saying. “It is up to us to find our way home to the pasture of the Lord and not continue wandering farther away. The Lord cannot protect us if we insist on roaming farther and farther away from his house . . .”

  Amanda blinked, focusing on the bishop’s words. She felt like a lost sheep. All of these years, she had struggled to find her way in Alejandro’s world. And she had adapted. But in doing so, she had lost her ties to her roots. That realization didn’t surprise her. What did give her reason for pause was how many things she missed about her life as an Amish woman. While she wouldn’t have changed anything about her decision to marry Alejandro—for he was, undoubtedly, the man that God intended for her—she would change a lot about their lifestyle.

  Starting with her children and how much of the world they had been exposed to and at such a young age.

  Anna nudged her and startled her from her thoughts. From somewhere in the room, a cell phone vibrated. Inwardly, she groaned, knowing full well that there was not one Amish person, not even the most rebellious youth, sitting in that room who would have dared to bring a cell phone into the service. And that meant one of only three people were the guilty parties: Alejandro, Isadora, or Alecia.

  On the bench ahead of her, Amanda thought she saw Alecia glance in the direction of the vibration. Thankfully, she had not drawn more attention to herself by standing up and excusing herself to leave the room so that she could answer it.

  By the time the noise had disappeared and Amanda had refocused her attention on the worship service, she realized that the bishop had stopped preaching, and now the congregation was singing the second hymn, “Das Loblied.” Without referencing the black chunky hymnbook in her hands, Amanda let her voice join the other members as they sang the hymn of praise to God:

  O God, Father, we praise thee

  And thy kindness glorify.

  Which thou, oh Lord, so mercifully

  To us anew has shown.

  And hast us, Lord, together led

  Us to admonish through thy word,

  Bestow on us thy grace.

  As the congregation sang the last line, Amanda looked across the heads of the women seated before her, her eyes scanning the faces of the men who sat on the opposite side of the room. She located Alejandro, who was sitting beside Jonas, among the other married men. He looked so out of place among the Amish men, with their mustache-less beards and simple haircuts. Yet he also looked at peace.

  He must have sensed her gaze, and he smiled, just a little. She remembered the first time that he had attended a worship service with her and her parents. When someone had teased him about not understanding a word of what had been said and sung, Alejandro had replied that music transcended the limitations of language.

  It was almost noon before the service ended. By that time, even Amanda felt antsy, and her body ached from sitting on the hard bench for so long. As they stood up, she saw Anna rubbing her back as she stretched.

  “Bet you don’t miss those long sermons,” Anna whispered as they moved to the side of the room.

  Amanda tried to keep a straight face. The preacher of the second sermon had been especially long-winded today, and his monotone voice had sent her mind drifting to other things. She had been thankful when he finally stopped and the final hymn began.

  The men, including Alejandro, began to convert the benches into long tables for the fellowship meal by slipping the legs of the benches into wooden trestles. The smaller boys dashed around the room, collecting the Ausbunds and setting them inside wooden crates that would be stored in the church wagon for use at the next service. To Amanda’s surprise, she saw her son participating in the cleanup, helping a young Amish boy who took the books as Nicolas handed them to him.

  “I think he’s found a friend,” Amanda said to Anna, gesturing toward the two boys.

  “Oh, he’s all boy, isn’t he now?”

  Lizzie and Alecia walked through the gathering and joined them in the back of the room. Alecia looked tired, her eyes watering, and Amanda guessed she had fallen asleep during the service.

  “How’d you like the service, Alecia?” Anna asked.

  “Three hours is long, no?”

  Amanda bit her lower lip to keep herself from showing her amusement.

  “What is happening now, hija?”

  “They’ll set up two long tables, and we’ll sit for some food,” she explained. “And after that, we’ll return home to relax and visit.”

  Realizing what she had said, Amanda turned away to avoid the look of surprise that Alecia gave to her. Had she really called it home? It was an unintentional slip, but the expression on Alecia’s face gave the word m
ore importance than Amanda had meant.

  Behind her, a man cleared his throat, and Amanda looked up in surprise when she saw that the bishop stood there, trying to get her attention.

  “Amanda Beiler,” he said. “I heard you were coming for Christmas.”

  She wanted to correct him that her name was Amanda Diaz, not Beiler, but she bit her tongue. “It’s good to see you,” she said.

  He glanced at Isadora, who stood beside her, and he nodded. “Your dochder, ja?”

  Amanda had forgotten that he knew Isadora from so many years ago.

  Returning his attention to Amanda, he switched to Pennsylvania Dutch and said, “And your thoughts on the sermon? Did you enjoy it?”

  If she had been surprised that he approached her, singling her out from the other worshippers, she was even more surprised at his question. “I did,” she responded.

  His lips twitched, just a little, as if he wanted to say something more, but instead he just said, “I’m glad,” and walked away to join the men.

  Amanda stared after him, even more dumbfounded. “What on earth . . . ?”

  Lizzie placed her hand on Amanda’s arm. “Didn’t you listen to his sermon, dochder?”

  Amanda turned to her mother, a look of disbelief crossing her face. Had the bishop’s sermon been intended to send her a message? Did he consider her a lost sheep that had left God’s given pasture? He had always been critical of her leaving the community, probably feeling as if she had strayed off the path that God had chosen for her. But she felt the opposite way. God led her to Alejandro. And despite what the bishop might think, she was a good wife and a good mother. More important, she always behaved in accordance with God’s will.

  “Did he have me in mind when he preached the sermon?” Amanda asked, more than a little irritated at the suggestion. “Was he trying to send me a message about my choices?”

  At this, Lizzie merely shook her head. “Oh, Amanda, have you been in the world of the Englische so long that you only see shadows instead of the light?” And then, Lizzie smiled. “Nee, Amanda, he wasn’t sending you a message about your choices. That was his way of saying welcome home.”