One Child Read online

  © 2009 by Barbara Cameron

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Thomas Nelson. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of Thomas Nelson, Inc.

  Thomas Nelson, Inc., books may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, fund-raising, or sales promotional use. For information, please e-mail [email protected].

  Scripture quotations taken from the King James Version.

  Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.

  ISBN 978-1-59554-856-6 (TP)

  ISBN 978-1-41857-914-2 (ebook)

  ISBN 978-1-40168-935-3 (ebook: One Child)

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Wiseman, Beth, 1962–

  An Amish Christmas : December in Lancaster County : three Amish

  Christmas novellas / Beth Wiseman, Kathleen Fuller, Barbara Cameron. —

  Expanded ed.

  p. cm.

  Includes bibliographical references and index.

  ISBN 978-1-59554-878-8 (alk. paper)

  1. Christmas stories, American. 2. Christian fiction, American. 3. Lancaster County (Pa.)—Fiction.

  I. Wiseman, Beth, 1962– A choice to forgive. II. Fuller, Kathleen A miracle for Miriam. III.

  Cameron, Barbara, 1949– One child. IV. Title.

  PS648.C45A47 2010

  813'.0108334—dc22

  2010014413

  For Sarah and my family.

  CONTENTS

  GLOSSARY

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  READING GUIDE

  AMISH RECIPES

  EXCERPT FROM A MIRACLE FOR MIRIAM

  AUTHOR BIO

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to my family and friends who are so supportive of my writing. Writing is, by nature, a solitary activity, and all of you sustain me with your encouragement. I want to thank my daughter, Stephany, and my son, Justin, for being God’s greatest gifts to me, and for letting me know early on that they understood how important writing is to me. And thank you to the real Sarah, best friend for so many years and such a joy to know.

  Thanks to three special longtime friends who are fellow writers: Rita Shell, the first person to read my work; Donna Cianciulli, whom I met when we were teachers long ago; and Judy Rehm, a wonderful Bible scholar I consult often. Thanks to Linda and Rob Beziat, two warm and generous friends who have been so supportive.

  Thanks also go to Mary Sue Seymour, my agent, who encouraged my inspirational stories, and Natalie Hanemann, editor at Thomas Nelson, who invited me to be a part of this wonderful collection of Amish novellas. Thanks, too, to LB Norton, who along with Natalie helped make One Child a stronger story.

  I also want to thank Linda Byler, who is Old Order Amish and took time from the stories she writes to answer my many questions and to read my manuscript for accuracy. Linda, it meant so much to me when you said such wonderful things about my story. I so appreciated it. Thanks, too, to Beth Graybill, director of the Lancaster Mennonite Historical Society, for answering my questions and asking Linda if she would be willing to talk to me. Your doing this was such a blessing to my work.

  And most of all, thank you to God, who heard the desire in my heart to write when I was a teenager and provided opportunities for me to grow and learn with so many wonderful mentors and opportunities. You have truly given me a priceless gift.

  Glossary

  ab im kopp – off in the head, crazy

  aenti – aunt

  baremlich – terrible

  bauchduch – napkin

  boppli – baby or babies

  bruder – brother

  daadi – grandfather

  daed – dad

  danki – thanks

  demut – humility

  dippy eggs – eggs cooked over easy

  Derr Herr – God

  dochder – daughter

  du bischt wilkumm – you’re welcome

  dummkopf – dummy

  Englisch or Englischer – a non-Amish person

  fraa or frau – wife

  Frehlicher Grischtdaag – Merry Christmas

  gebet – prayer

  gern schöna – so willingly done

  glay hotsli – little heart (endearment)

  grossmammi – grandmother

  guder mariye – good morning

  guten nacht – good night

  gut-n-owed – good evening

  gutguckich – good-looking

  gut – good

  halt – stop

  haus – house

  hatt – hard

  herr – mister

  hochmut – pride

  in lieb – in love

  kaffi – coffee

  kapp – prayer covering or cap

  kind, kinder, kinner – children or grandchildren

  liebschen – dearest

  maedel or maed – girl or girls

  mamm – mom

  mammi – grandmother

  mann – man

  mei – my

  mudder – mother

  naerfich – nervous

  narrisch – crazy

  nee – no

  onkel – uncle

  ordnung – the written and unwritten rules of the Amish; the understood behavior by which the Amish are expected to live, passed down from generation to generation. Most Amish know the rules by heart.

  Pennsylvania Deitsch – Pennsylvania German, the language most commonly used by the Amish

  recht – right

  redd-up – clean up

  rumschpringe – running-around period when a teenager turns sixteen years old

  sehr gut – very good

  seltsam – weird

  sohn – son

  wunderbaar – wonderful

  ya – yes

  Chapter One

  Sarah heard the thin, reedy cry of a newborn. Wake up! she told herself. Wake up! The baby needs you.

  But something was holding her down, binding her arms. She fought against it. I have to get to my baby! she moaned.

  “Sarah! Wake up, it’s just a bad dream!”

  Jerking awake, Sarah stared into her husband’s face. His eyebrows were drawn together in a frown.

  “You were dreaming again.”

  She closed her eyes, opened them again, and sighed. No, the bad dream was waking and finding that she didn’t have a child. One child, she thought. If I had just one child, I could be happy, God. Is one child too much to ask?

  Then, just as quickly, she chided herself. It was wrong to talk to God that way.

  David let go of her arms. “You haven’t had one in a long time.” He narrowed his eyes. “Have you?”

  Sarah nearly squirmed under his inquisitive stare. She shook her head. Sitting up, she tried to swing her legs off the bed, but David’s large frame blocked her way. “I can’t believe I fell asleep. I was going to rest for just a minute after I came home from school.”

  He touched her arm. “You’ve exhausted yourself with redding up the house and doing so much at sch
ool with the Christmas program.”

  “I need to get up.”

  “Sarah . . .”

  “David, please. People will be coming at four. I don’t want our guests to think anything’s wrong.”

  “Even if it is?” His voice was quiet, but the words felt like a slap.

  David stood, and Sarah moved from the bed, avoiding his eyes. She smoothed her dress, grateful that she hadn’t wrinkled it lying down. Going to the mirror, she stared at her face, seeing a conflicting message written on its oval shape: there were lavender shadows beneath her gray eyes, evidence she couldn’t hide that she wasn’t sleeping enough lately. But a sleep crease in her cheek showed she’d just gotten up from bed.

  She rubbed a finger over the crease and hoped it would be gone before anyone arrived. Putting on the kapp she’d laid out earlier over her nut-brown hair, she started to turn. Then she caught a flash of movement in the mirror.

  David stood behind her, the expression on his handsome face full of regret and dismay. But she wasn’t ready to forgive his comment. “You need to get cleaned up.” The words came out a little sharper than she’d intended.

  “Look at me, Sarah,” he said softly.

  She did as he asked. It was a long look up, as David was a foot taller than her five-foot-two stature; it was even harder to meet his concerned gaze. “I’m fine, David. Really.”

  “I’m your husband, Sarah,” he said. “There’s no need to pretend with me.”

  She nodded and sighed again. “I know. But I want everything to go well tonight. I couldn’t bear it if anyone was sad for me. Or felt sorry for me.” She felt tears threatening, and blinked them back and took a deep breath. “Not tonight. It’s too special a night for anyone to feel sad, whether it is my friends and my family—or you and me.”

  Tenderly, he cupped her cheek in his hand. “Your friends and your family care about you. They don’t feel sorry for you.”

  “Everyone knows it’s near the anniversary of my miscarriage,” she said. “They’ve been watching me. I felt it today at the school program. And sad or sorry—it’s one and the same thing, isn’t it?” She looked away from the pain she saw flash into his eyes.

  He stood there, seeming not to know what to say.

  “David, you need to get ready.”

  “But, Sarah—”

  “I have to check on things,” she said, and before he could speak, she rushed from the room.

  Downstairs, Sarah went from room to room, checking one last time to be sure all was as it should be. Her home shone. She’d cleaned for days, and when she was assured there was not a speck of dust hiding anywhere, she’d turned to decorating for Christmas. Work took her mind off what had happened this time last year. It kept her busy, gave her a sense of control she hadn’t had then.

  As she glanced around the living room, she should have felt satisfaction. The house had never looked better. A fire crackled merrily in the fireplace, and the drape of greenery that decorated the mantel David had built scented the room with fresh pine. Pots of bright-red poinsettias had been set around the room for a festive holiday touch. Candles flickered in glass votives and cast a warm glow.

  Once, Christmas had been her favorite time of the year. Everyone gathered together to celebrate the birth of Jesus, and she would sit at the feet of her favorite uncle and listen to him read from the Bible the story of baby Jesus born in a stable to Mary and Joseph. The next day was more social, with visits and gift exchanges.

  She paused at the window to look out at the barn where David had been spending most of his waking hours building the beautiful furniture that was his livelihood. As Christmas approached, the loss had lain between them when they sat at the table for a meal or spent the hours together before bed. Some losses were too huge for words. Sarah could only pray that somehow they would get through this.

  She heard David entering the room and turned to offer him a tentative smile. She didn’t want to have tension between them. She loved this tall, handsome man who worked so hard to build their home and provide for them, who had continued to show her that he loved and cherished her during some of the worst months of her life.

  When she was sixteen, she had developed quite a crush on the quiet blond man with eyes the color of the summer sky. When she was twenty, she had married him. Three years later she loved him even more.

  And miracle of miracles, he loved her, even though she felt that she had failed him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said simply, walking toward her. He stopped before her and studied her face. “You look so tired.”

  She playfully slapped his arm. “Not what a woman wants to hear.”

  “Maybe tonight you can get some sleep.”

  She’d been having trouble sleeping for the past two weeks. Sometimes she slipped from bed and went downstairs to sit by herself. More than once she woke to find herself being carried back to bed in her husband’s strong arms.

  She went into his arms now, and they stood there, holding each other. “I’m sorry too.”

  There was a knock on the front door, and Sarah jumped back. “They’re here already.”

  “I’ll go check the fire,” David called after her as she rushed to answer the door.

  Miriam stood on the doorstep. “I hope Seth and I aren’t too early?”

  Sarah smiled and shook her head. “Of course not. Merry Christmas.”

  Peering around her, Miriam laughed. “We are the first, are we not?”

  “Come in, come in,” Sarah said, gesturing. “It’s freezing out there! The temperature must have dropped ten degrees just in the last hour.”

  Stepping inside, Miriam handed over the casserole she carried. “It’s gut that we moved up the time, ya? Our first storm of the season is going to be a bad one.” She hung her outer things on a hook by the door, revealing her too-slender figure clad in her Sunday-best dress and kapp.

  The heat from the kitchen steamed her round, wire-rimmed glasses, and she took them off and wiped their lenses. “Seth is putting the horse in the barn.”

  “Would you like some peppermint tea?”

  “Ya, I would love some.” Miriam left Sarah to wander into the next room. Returning to the kitchen, she accepted the cup of tea Sarah handed her and sat at the kitchen table. “Everything looks so nice. It must have taken you days.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “Thank you for inviting us. Are you sure it wasn’t too much work?” Miriam tentatively touched her friend’s hand resting on the table. “I know—well, this must be a difficult time for you.”

  Squaring her shoulders, Sarah forced a smile. “I’m fine. And you—I’m so happy that you and Seth are seeing each other.”

  Miriam’s smile transformed her features. “I just can’t describe what it feels like to be with him. I never thought Seth would notice me. He’s always had girls swarming around him like bees to honey.” She stopped, shook her head. “But he makes me feel . . .” She lifted her shoulders, let them fall. “He makes me feel pretty.”

  “You are pretty,” Sarah told her. “I don’t know why you’ve always felt you weren’t.” Relieved that the focus of the conversation had switched from her sadness, Sarah studied Miriam. “Do you think you might be in love?”

  They weren’t rushing things, Miriam said, but Sarah had a feeling that theirs would be one of the first marriages next fall, after the harvest, after the banns were read. She listened to her friend talk about Seth. Was this the way she had sounded when she was first falling in love with David?

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door, and she hurried to open it.

  Nine-year-old John Smucker stood on the doorstep. He grinned at her. “Merry Christmas, Sarah!” He held out a casserole. “I helped make the filling.”

  “It smells wonderful. Could you set it on the stove?”

  He nodded and hurried to do as she’d asked. His sister, Anna Marie, followed him inside. Lydia, the children’s mother, was still climbing the steps to the house
and didn’t see the exchange.

  “Are those your biscuits?” Sarah asked Anna Marie.

  Anna Marie nodded and smiled. “I know you like them.” She pulled up a corner of the cloth that covered the basket and let Sarah take a sniff.

  “Mmm, I can’t wait. Would you put them on the counter with the other baked goods?”

  Sarah turned back to the door to greet Lydia, Miriam’s sister. Lydia was much older than Miriam, a widowed mother with three children, but she moved with a grace that made her seem much younger.

  “Where is Jacob?” Sarah asked as she shut the door.

  “Helping Daniel and Seth with the horses. He wanted to ‘be with the men.’” Lydia sighed as she watched her eldest child leave the room with her aenti Miriam. “My kinner are growing up so fast. Especially Anna Marie.”

  Then Lydia turned her attention to Sarah. “And you, Sarah. How are you?”

  “Looking forward to our sharing this special time,” Sarah said firmly, looking away from the sympathy in Lydia’s eyes. “I plan to enjoy this Christmas. Especially with all the happy news you and Miriam have shared with me.”

  Lydia hugged Sarah, and though the cheek she pressed against Sarah’s was chilled, her hug was warm and loving. She leaned back and studied Sarah’s face as David had done. “Gut for you.”

  “I want to focus on what I have, not what I don’t have. I have a wonderful husband and a beautiful home he and his brothers built for us.” Sarah lifted her chin and grinned. “And friends who have shared such gut news. Imagine, you and Miriam might both be getting married come harvest. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

  “Second chances,” Lydia said, and a dreamy look came into her eyes. Then she caught herself and shook her head. “I sound like Anna Marie. But I’m not young.”

  “You are too,” Sarah insisted. “Young and in love again.”

  Lydia laughed and hung up her outer things.

  Sarah tilted her head and studied her friend. “You glow,” she said quietly. “It’s so gut to see that God gave you and Daniel that second chance. He’s so gut.”

  “God or Daniel?” Lydia teased. But then she smiled. “And if you believe that God has been gut to me, and to Daniel, you must believe that he’ll see that you get the gift of a second chance too. And don’t pretend to not know what I mean. God wants us to have the gift of happiness, Sarah. In his infinite wisdom, he knows that a child for you and David would be his greatest gift to you both.”