An Amish Christmas Carol Page 3

  With a simple wave of her hand, Elsie scoffed at him. “Nee, no better than the others, I’m sure,” she said modestly. “Besides, I think she had a hope that one of my older brothers would escort her home from a singing.”

  At that comment, they both laughed.

  It felt good to laugh. Elsie realized that it had been a long time she had thought about such things as the past. School? Friends? Teachers? “I wonder whatever happened to that Linda Zook from Ohio,” she said softly.

  His eyes softened. “Most likely passed on by now,” he admitted. “She was a gut eight years older than us…maybe ten.”

  They fell silent again. Death. It always came back to that. At 75 years of age, it was impossible to avoid it. Death surrounded the elderly and, if they were lucky, it would be someone else’s.

  Elsie took a deep breath and, with the slightest of hesitations, leaned forward. “I have a question for you, Bishop,” she began. She was glad that he didn’t correct the use of his title rather this given name. “I’ve been giving a lot of thought to this.”

  “What is it, Elsie?”

  “Well,” she started, running her wrinkled finger along the rim of her mug. “The Bible says that we won’t know each other in heaven, ain’t so? Yet, the Bible says that we will be happy in heaven. We will experience joy.” She paused and stared at the tea. She needed to know the answer but she was afraid the bishop would be upset that she was questioning both him and the Bible. “Ach vell,” she continued, the nervousness apparent in her voice. “It saddens me to think that when I go to heaven I won’t know Bruder Stephen or Mamm or Daed. Without knowing them, I don’t think I could experience joy in heaven.” She looked up, her eyes meeting Jacob’s in the shadows that were cast around the room from the kerosene lantern. “Do you think I will know him, Bishop?”

  His reaction startled her for he had no reaction. Not at first anyway. He held her gaze as he contemplated the question. It was not a typical question that he was asked. He was used to questions about the sins of the world such as the rights and wrongs of using cellphones, solar panels, and fertilizer from the store. This, however, was a deeper question that required a more structured answer.

  “Do you, Bishop?” she pressed him.

  He cleared his throat. “I think you are asking that for a different reason, Elsie.”

  “Different?”

  With a nod of his head, he repeated. “Ja, a different reason. The thought of eternity alone frightens all of us, ja? Mayhaps you are missing your bruder and thinking that eternity begins now.”

  Elsie felt stung by his words. For a moment, she wanted to lash out and argue with him, deny what he said to her. However, arguing wasn’t her way, nor was reacting in such a manner. Besides, she thought as she digested his words, there was a kernel of truth to his suggestion. Indeed, she was worried about being alone, the last of the family, living by herself and aging more rapidly than she had ever thought possible.

  What if she fell down the basement stairs?

  What if she lost her balance in the shower?

  What if she had a stroke and there was no one to help her?

  These were the questions that plagued her. If the idea of living in eternity alone, without knowing her own bruders and shweshters, her mamm and daed, frightened her, Jacob was correct that the idea of living in life alone frightened her just as much. Simply put, she didn’t want to find herself suffering alone. One fall, one slip, one debilitating stroke and she would be suffering alone, in her own home, until someone thought to check on her.

  “I miss my bruder,” she admitted. “I miss taking care of him, this is true.” She lifted her tired eyes to meet the bishop’s. “But what I miss the most is not being alone.”

  He nodded. “I understand.”

  She frowned. “Do you? You have a wife and you have kinner and you have little ones that visit. You are truly never alone, Jacob.”

  “That is true, too,” he said slowly, his finger toying with the edge of the table. “But one can have all of those things and still feel alone, Elsie.”

  Alone? The bishop? He had married in his twenties, shared fifty years with the same woman. Elsie knew they had eight kinner and she reckoned they had almost seventy grand kinner with quite a few great-grandchildren in the mix. How could one feel alone with so many offspring and family to visit and keep him company? “I don’t understand.”

  He glanced at her then looked away. There was a pained look in his expression and immediately she wondered what was bothering him. In all the years that she had known Jacob Beiler, he had always been so upbeat and positive, a quick smile for anyone and a willing ear for those in need. It was a curiosity to her that, tonight, his confidence and happiness both looked to be lacking.

  “I suppose I shouldn’t be talking about this,” he said slowly, still avoiding her eyes. “I’ve had a good life, you see.”

  “I know you have, Jacob,” she said softly.

  “My Mary is a godly wife, a wonderful mother, and a right gut friend,” he said firmly. “It’s been fifty years, Elsie. That’s a long time.” He looked up and met her gaze. “But I always wonder one question…” His voice trailed away.

  A question? What question could he possibly have to ask? Every man prayed for what Jacob Beiler had. A wife who followed God and the Ordnung as if they were one and the same. A woman who raised eight children, all of whom took the kneeling vow and joined the Amish church. And a friend to travel life alongside him, a companion to praise his achievements and console him in the face of failure. No, Elsie thought. There could be no “what if” when it came to Mary Beiler.

  “What is that question, Jacob?” she asked, mostly because she suspected he wanted her to probe deeper.

  With a deep breath, he leaned back in the chair and stared at her. The chair creaked under his weight. He wasn’t a young, handsome twenty year old anymore, that was for certain. But, as he gazed at her, she didn’t see a man in his seventies. “What if it had been you who took that lemonade from me at the singing and not Mary,” he responded, his eyes troubled and worried as the words slipped past his lips.

  For a long moment, she wasn’t certain how to respond. Instead, her mind tripped back in time, stumbling over years of memories as she sought the dusty corner of her brain for a hidden door, one that she had kept locked for oh so long! Blowing the cobwebs off that key, she fit it into the lock, turned it, and watched with baited breath as the door opened…

  She was eighteen and sitting on a hay bale with her friends. It was a Sunday evening at the Miller’s farm, an evening set aside for the youth to gather in order to sing, socialize, and relax. Elsie was laughing with Anna and Mary about the kitten that had wandered into the church service earlier that day.

  Church had been held at the Miller’s farm in the barn. Being that it was summer, it was too hot to have service in the house. Instead, the barn suited just perfect, especially with the doors open and a warm morning breeze blowing through the room.

  Bishop Glick had been preaching, another long sermon about the evils of the world and how young folk were taking too much liberty with their rumschpringe by attending those fancy movie theatres in the bigger towns. The younger attendees were trying to not pay any attention to the movement behind the open doorway from the large gathering room above the main barn floor. However, the young ladies had the perfect vantage point to see the grey striped kitten saunter around the doorframe, rubbing its back against the woodwork. It stopped to lick its paw for a moment then, its head shot up, staring at the crowds of people seated on the hard, backless benches, as if noticing them for the first time.

  Bishop Glick indicated that it was time to pray. Everyone stood up, faced the outer wall and, as if on silent command, dropped to their knees to press their heads against folded hands on the benches. Their eyes were supposed to be shut and Elsie was following orders until she heard a very strange news in the silence that engulfed her. Purring. And it was loud. Even more troubling, it was right by he
r side.

  Elsie peeked open one eye and saw the kitten, a tiny and fuzzy grey striped kitten, rubbing its body against the back of someone’s shoe. Whoever was kneeling before her tried to shoo the kitten away by wiggling her foot. This only incited the kitten more and she began swatting at the giant black shoe.

  With every ounce of her might, Elsie held back her laughter at the sight of the woman and the kitten engaged in a silent battle during an even more silent prayer. Her sides began to ache as she held back her mirth at the situation. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to forget what she had just witnessed. If she laughed in church, Bishop Glick would be sure and certain to give her a private tongue lashing later.

  Later that evening, at the youth gathering, Elsie shared the story with her friends. She was astonished to learn that they, too, had seen the kitten and had fought as hard as they could to not break into laughter. They broke into giggles, trying to imagine what would have happened if just one of them had broken the silence.

  “You girls sure do seem to be having fun,” a voice said from behind Elsie.

  Anna and Mary smiled at whoever it was but Elsie had to crane her neck in order to see Jacob Beiler standing at her back. Tall and handsome Jacob Beiler with dark brown hair and big green eyes smiled when she recognized him. Elsie flushed at the attention he had afforded the group of girls and turned away.

  That didn’t stop Jacob from walking around the hay bales to stand before Elsie and the other girls. He was holding a cup of lemonade in his hand, a smile still plastered on his face. For a split second, Elsie wondered if he was nervous. He sure seemed to be acting that way, especially with the way he kept shifting his weight and staring at her.

  “What are you laughing about, then?” he asked.

  Elsie averted her eyes. Despite being of the age to court, she had not pursued anyone nor had she encouraged any of the boys to pursue her. For Elsie, she was waiting for someone special. Someone who gave her goose bumps when he stared at her with those emerald eyes and perfect smile.

  It was Mary who answered. “Church today. Did you boys see the kitten on our side of the room?”

  “Nee,” he responded but his eyes were still on Elsie. “Glad the kitten was on your side. Surely would have caused a few giggles on ours.”

  Silence. It was as if the girls were waiting for Jacob Beiler to explain why he had joined them.

  Finally, with a slight shuffle of his feet, Jacob cleared his throat and said, “Wanted to know if you’d like some fresh lemonade.”

  It appeared that he was reaching out the cup to hand it to her. Elsie’s heart lurched into her throat. Had Jacob Beiler actually thought to bring her a lemonade? There was an odd flutter inside of her chest as she contemplated the meaning of such an action. If he did, that surely meant he wanted to take her home in his buggy after the singing!

  But it was Mary who took the cup of lemonade and thanked Jacob Beiler. She was standing closest to him since Elsie was seated on the hay bale. It was clear that the lemonade had been intended for Elsie but her mind had been in such a whirl that she hadn’t acted quickly enough. That had made Elsie’s hesitation seem a bit too drawn out and, in order to save Jacob from a potentially embarrassing situation, Mary had accepted the lemonade and sealed everyone’s fate.

  It was the following week that one of her older bruder’s wife was injured and Elsie had volunteered to help her bruder with the kinner. She wound up staying at Isaiah’s farm for almost six weeks. By that time, Jacob and Mary had started courting and, by fall, their marriage had been announced. It was a rapid courtship but not unheard of in the Amish community.

  So, when Elsie attended their wedding, she tried not to look at Jacob with the eyes of envy but of happiness that he had found such a wunderbaar gut woman to share his life.

  Elsie blinked her eyes. The memory faded and she looked up at Jacob. For that moment, that briefest of seconds, she saw him as he was then, a young man with a good future ahead of him. She saw him as the one man that had interested her enough to dream until she hesitated too long to take that cup of lemonade then offered to help her bruder’s family. It dawned on her that her entire life was the same story. Self-sacrifice that led to missed opportunity.

  “I…I don’t know what to say to that, Jacob,” she whispered. Inside her chest, her heart ached. She forced other memories away. It was too painful to see it all at once.

  “You are a right gut woman,” Jacob said. “I knew that you had gone to help your bruder and I didn’t wait.” He paused, glancing at her before he quickly added, “I’m not complaining, Elsie. I’ve had a wunderbaar life.”

  She frowned. “Then why are you telling me this?”

  He took a deep breath and stared at her. “Because I know the sacrifices you have made. I wanted you to know that you helped many people…in fact, you changed lives. Selflessness can do that and it often isn’t repaid.” He paused and averted his eyes. “I wish I could repay you for what you did for me. For the life I have with Mary.”

  A light flashed outside the door and Elsie looked up. A shadow passed before the window and the glasses rattled again as someone tapped on it. Another visitor?

  The interruption ended the conversation. Bishop Beiler stood up and collected his hat. He stood back while Elsie hurried to the door and opened it.

  “I saw your light on and a buggy in the driveway,” a cheerful voice said. “Hope I’m not disturbing you, Elsie, but I wanted to bring you a platter for supper! And some company to pass away some time presently!”

  Elsie stepped back and a tall, willowy woman stepped into the kitchen. She had a navy knit handkerchief tied over her head and a thick but dirty black coat covering her maroon color dress.

  “Why Bishop!” the woman said, flashing a bright and sunny smile that lit up the room better than the kerosene lantern. “I didn’t know you were here!”

  “Rachel Ann,” the bishop said with a stiff nod of his head. Gone was the casual Jacob Beiler with flashing green eyes. Instead, the stern bishop, the leader of the community, had returned and stood in her kitchen. It was as if the knock on the door had transformed him. “I was just getting ready to leave.”

  After saying a quick good-bye and wishing the ladies both a Merry Christmas, Jacob Beiler slide his black hat back onto his head and, with one last nod at Elsie, slipped out the door and hurried to his buggy.

  Elsie shut the kitchen door but stood there, for just a moment, listening to Rachel Ann hurry about the kitchen. Instead of joining her, Elsie watched as the bishop backed his horse and buggy away from the post in her driveway. She saw him glance once at the house before he slapped the reins on the horse’s back and drove the buggy out onto the road, disappearing into the darkness as if he had never been there at all.

  Chapter Four

  “Now Elsie,” Rachel Ann said as she moved about the kitchen. “I thought that I’d bring you a Christmas present!” She laughed and motioned toward the food that she had set out upon the counter. “A feast, ain’t so!”

  Elsie frowned and stared at the different serving bowls: ham, mashed potatoes with gravy, pickled cabbage, baby carrots with maple syrup, red beets, and green bean salad. The bowls were steaming, obviously still warm from having been cooked next door. Despite having thought she would only reheat some soup, Elsie had to admit that it sure looked wunderbaar gut! She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen such a feast in her own kitchen. Certainly not since Stephen passed, that was for sure and certain.

  “Rachel Ann,” Elsie started to protest, perhaps not as vehemently as she would normally do, “I’ve told you in the past to not worry about me.”

  With a distracted wave of her hand, Rachel Ann began to set the bowls on the table, hustling back and forth as she moved. She was comfortable in the kitchen, even thought it was not her own. “Nonsense,” she scoffed. “It’s not worry that brings me here, Elsie.” Setting down two plates and utensils on the table, Rachel Ann looked up and motioned for Elsie to sit. “It’s
because we all love you so!”

  “You shouldn’t do this,” Elsie responded, her words sounded feeble and meek, overwhelmed by emotion as she felt.

  “We may not have a lot but what we have, we share with our family, friends, and dear neighbors,” Rachel Ann said lightly. “Now, you sit yourself down while I get some nice, cool water. Then, let’s eat and enjoy each other’s company, shall we?”

  We? That word took Elsie by surprise. After all Rachel Ann had her own family, a husband and five young kinner. She should be having Christmas Eve supper with them. But Elsie knew better than to argue with Rachel Ann. She might be young but she was known to be strong-willed when it came to caring for others.

  After they bowed their head in a silent prayer, Rachel Ann began passing the plates. She put small helpings on her own plate but large, heaping portions on Elsie’s.

  “That’s too much,” Elsie protested. “I don’t want to waste any. I don’t have the same appetite I once did!”

  Again, Rachel Ann dismissed her with a simple wave of her hand. “There’s plenty and I know you don’t eat right. I keep inviting you over but you keep refusing. So,” she said as she passed a bowl of applesauce to Elsie. “If you won’t come to me, I shall come to you.” Looking up, Rachel Ann smiled, clearly pleased to be visiting with Elsie and not at all feeling inconvenienced.

  “That’s awful kind,” Elsie said softly, humbled by this good woman’s generosity.

  “Saw your nephew here the other week,” Rachel Ann said, watching as Elsie dished the applesauce into the small bowl next to her plate. “Menno’s a right gut man,” she said.

  “Ja, that he is. Stops by each week to check on me,” Elsie said humbly.