An Amish Winter (Love Inspired)

by Vannetta Chapman

  “Which do you want me to do tonight, put the bobbel in bed or clean up the kitchen?” he asked after they were finished eating. Esther and Gabriel were already in their room, since they’d had soup in the late afternoon and were too weary to keep going up and down the stairs.

  “Neither. You’ve had a long day, between all that shoveling and running to town and back. I can do both,” she told him.

  “It’s no problem,” he insisted. “The quicker we get done, the quicker we can play checkers. Maybe tonight is the night you finally win.”

  “Neh, I’m not up to it. I know when I’ve met my match and I concede you’re the better player.”

  “Aw, you’re not going to give up so easily, are you?” Jonathan jeered lightheartedly, but Leah wasn’t going to fall for his antics. She didn’t need him to entertain her; she’d have her share of recreation when she got to Pinecraft.

  “I said I was tired,” she snapped.

  * * *

  “Oh. Okay, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jonathan was nonplussed by Leah’s tone. Was it really that she was tired or was she upset with him? If she was, he couldn’t imagine what he’d done wrong.

  As he started toward the mudroom, Leah reminded him, “I need to go to the grocery store tomorrow and I’d like to go alone. But if Esther and Gabriel aren’t feeling well enough to watch the bobbel, I’ll take her with me.”

  Now it was painstakingly clear that Leah wanted to put distance between the two of them, so Jonathan didn’t argue. “That’s fine, as long as you’re back by one o’clock. I have a meeting in town at one forty-five.”

  As he lumbered across the yard, Jonathan felt as if he had anvils for feet, and his heart was equally heavy. This was the second night Leah didn’t want to hang out with him after supper. He would have understood if she just wanted time to herself, but he got the sense she was annoyed with him for another reason. Was it because he’d taken her arm yesterday? Or because he’d made a path for her in the snow? Maybe she thought he was crowding her or that he was coming on too strong.

  I don’t blame her. I’ve been acting like a fool—going out of my way for her again when all she really wants is to be alone. What is it going to take for that to sink in? he asked himself.

  Jonathan flopped onto his bed, fully clothed. He knew it wasn’t just his disenchantment with Leah that was enervating him; it was also that he’d had a disagreement with the vendor over the part he’d ordered, which cost twice as much as he’d expected to pay. Jonathan never liked the administrative aspect of the business—Gabriel was much better suited to it than he was and it depressed Jonathan that he’d made such a big error in estimation.

  Added to that, it had been snowing—with more on the way—which made for precarious travel conditions and contributed to Jonathan’s feelings of doom. As he was journeying home, he felt as if the gray clouds had seeped deep into his bones. Ironically, he’d been counting on Leah’s smile to warm him. Not even the bobbel was hallich to see me, now that her eldre are feeling better, he lamented before dropping into an unshakable slumber.

  The next morning there was an additional six inches of snow on the ground. Crossing the yard to the barn to care for the animals seemed as laborious to Jonathan as an Antarctic expedition. It took him twice as long as usual to finish his chores and when he was done, instead of shoveling the driveway, he went back to his own place to warm up first. He stoked the fire and then settled into the armchair and closed his eyes.

  Indistinctly aware of the passing of time, Jonathan kept thinking he should get up but he must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew he was woken by a persistent banging on the door. Leah was standing on his porch.

  “Oh, sorry,” he mumbled by way of greeting her. “You probably need to go shopping soon, don’t you? Let me get my boots and I’ll kumme out to clear the driveway.”

  “Are you joking? I’ve already shoveled the driveway and I just returned from the market.”

  Jonathan suspected she was the one who was playing a trick on him. “What time is it?”

  “It’s almost one o’clock. Do you want me to stable the gaul or are you going to leave right away?”

  Dazed, he glanced over her shoulder and stuttered, “Th-the gaul and buggy are fine where they are. Do you need help carrying the groceries inside?”

  “I put them in the haus already.” Leah sounded annoyed as she scrambled down the porch stairs without saying goodbye.

  Jonathan stood in the doorway, watching her go, a shiver racking his body. He knew he ought to hurry but he felt as if he was sleepwalking as he shaved and changed into clean clothes. He was halfway down the road when he realized he’d forgotten both his hat and the paperwork he needed for his appointment with the vendor, a fertilizer supplier. So he had to turn around and by the time he finally got to his meeting, he was almost forty minutes late. Knowing his tardiness reflected on himself and his brother, as well as on Amish people as a whole, Jonathan was overcome with shame.

  When he returned home, it was all he could do to unhitch the horse, take care of the livestock and drag himself inside his little house. Even though it wasn’t yet suppertime, he went straight to bed. At least I won’t have to deal with Leah’s anger, he thought.

  But he was wrong; Leah came knocking on his door again. He’d barely opened it when she demanded to know, “What is wrong with you? Are you sick or are you just sulking?”

  Jonathan blinked, hardly able to speak. “Sulking?”

  “Jah. Because I don’t want to play games with you in the evenings anymore.”

  “I was...I was giving you your space.”

  “Oh, so you’re supposedly doing me another favor, is that it?”

  He was completely befuddled. “What do you mean, another favor?”

  “I mean that you’ve deigned to shower me with special attention by doing all sorts of nice things for me and making me feel like a special guest, but it’s only been because your bruder asked you to,” Leah clarified in a huff. “But now that I don’t want to be the recipient of your...your condescension, you’re sulking because you can’t feel like you’re Mr. Wunderbaar anymore.”

  “Mr. Wunderbaar?” Jonathan repeated incredulously. “I don’t feel like Mr. Wunderbaar. If anything, I feel like I’m Mr. Baremlich. It’s true, my bruder asked me to be extra hospitable toward you because he and Esther were too sick to treat you like the special guest you are. But that’s not why I played games or shoveled a path around the yard for you, Leah. I did it because I wanted to. Because it was schpass for me and I thought you were enjoying yourself, too. I—”

  His voice cracked with emotion and Jonathan cut his sentence short. He paused, took a deep breath, and started anew. “I’m very sorry you had to shovel the driveway this morning. I wasn’t sulking. I was sleeping. But it won’t happen again.”

  He started to close the door but Leah stuck her foot inside it and pushed her way into the kitchen.

  “Sit down,” she demanded, and he was too spent to refuse. She pulled off her gloves and put a hand to his forehead. “You don’t seem to have a fever. Do you have a koppweh? You might be coming down with the flu.”

  Jonathan told her his brain felt fuzzy but he didn’t have a headache. And while he had body aches, they weren’t the feverish kind.

  “It could be that you’re on the brink of the flu, but the symptoms haven’t fully manifested themselves yet,” Leah suggested, frowning.

  She looked so concerned Jonathan couldn’t allow her to continue to believe his malaise was caused by a physical illness. “Neh, I’m not on the brink of the flu. The way I feel now is how I’ve felt all winter, except for a brief reprieve when...when you got here.”

  * * *

  If Jonathan’s earnestness and vulnerability hadn’t already dissolved Leah’s ire, his appearance would have. Beneath the overhead kitchen lamp, he looked more miserable tha
n Gabriel or Esther looked at the height of their sickness, and she was overcome with sympathy.

  “It’s freezing in here,” she said. “I’ll make some tea while you stoke the fire.”

  Jonathan rubbed his forehead. “I have to go get some wood—I don’t have any more inside.”

  He rose but Leah took him by his shoulders and turned him around, and then marched him into the living room and made him sit on the couch. “I’ve already got my coat on. I’ll get the wood. You stay right here.”

  Once the woodstove was crackling again and they were both cupping mugs of tea to warm their hands, Leah asked Jonathan several questions about his mood and energy level. She listened as he confided how much he disliked wintertime and that most days, he struggled to perform even the most rudimentary tasks. He also told her every year he confessed his bad attitude to the Lord and asked Him to fill his heart with gratitude and his body with strength, but he still experienced a pervasive glumness throughout the season.

  Finally, Leah gently suggested, “I do think you have an illness, Jonathan, but it’s not the flu. I’m not positive, but I think you may be depressed, which could be related to something called seasonal affective disorder. The acronym is SAD, which seems appropriate, because that’s how it makes people feel—among other things.”

  Jonathan shook his head. “That’s not an illness. It’s an excuse. An excuse Englischers use when they don’t want to work. I want to work. I just can’t seem to. Or if I can, it takes a lot longer than usual. It’s a sin problem. A problem with my heart because I’m...I don’t know, not appreciative enough for the blessings Gott has given me or something.”

  There were so many inaccuracies in what Jonathan had just said that Leah hardly knew which one to address first. “For one thing, SAD is, too, an illness and it’s not just something that happens to Englischers. Our deacon in Bensonville was a very godly man—a very productive man, by anyone’s standards—and he suffered from SAD for years and years. He tried herbal remedies, Englisch medication, getting more exercise, changing his diet, praying about it—you name it, he tried it. All of those things helped, but it wasn’t until he moved to a little community in North Carolina that he felt like himself again and was able to function at his normal ability during the winter.”

  Jonathan set his mug down and pushed his hand through his hair, which appeared to be as close as he’d come to combing it all day. “I’m hallich that worked for your deacon, but even if I have SAD, I can’t leave the farm and move to North Carolina. I promised my parents I’d never abandon it, or Gabriel, again.”

  “I’m not suggesting you need to do something that drastic. Like I said, I’m not even sure you have SAD. That’s why I think it’s important for you to consult with a dokder—”

  “Neh! I could never tell an Englisch dokder how I feel, and I don’t want anyone in my familye or community finding out, either,” Jonathan protested. “So please don’t tell them, Leah. The only reason I confided in you was because I didn’t want you to think I was...I was being a jerk.”

  Leah remembered her deacon’s wife sharing how difficult it was for her husband to seek help. She said he was afraid people might think his problem was that he was lazy, which the Amish considered a very shameful quality for a person to have. Leah knew she had to proceed cautiously if she was going to help Jonathan accept the possibility he was depressed and to do something about it.

  “Okay, I won’t tell anyone,” she promised. “But I do have one stipulation. You have to agree to let me help you, as I see fit. And for now, that means you need to kumme up to the haus for supper and a game of checkers.”

  Jonathan’s smile seemed forced. “That might make me feel better, but it’s not going to help you because—”

  “I know, I know. Because you never, ever lose at checkers,” Leah said, her laughter belying how deeply concerned she was about him.

  Chapter Five

  Throughout the night, Leah kept waking and when she did, she vacillated about whether she ought to postpone her trip to Florida a little longer. Given Jonathan’s current state, she was concerned about his ability to look after Gabriel and Esther on his own. Just as importantly, she was worried about his ability to look after himself. She figured if she could spend more time talking to him about it, eventually she might be able to convince him to see a doctor.

  The only problem was that Leah knew Esther would object to her missing any more vacation time. Leah couldn’t betray Jonathan’s confidence, nor could she think of a plausible excuse for changing her plans yet again.

  Dear Gott, she silently prayed. If it’s Your will that I stay here to help my friends, please show me how to make that happen.

  The Lord answered her prayers before noon the next day. It had snowed about four inches overnight and despite Jonathan’s protests, Leah helped him shovel. She was waving goodbye to him as he headed into town when Nancy Ebersole came up the driveway.

  “I imagine you’ve been running yourself ragged here.” She handed Leah a round glass dish and a plastic container. “I thought I’d make supper for you tonight. This is shepherd’s pie with molasses cookies for dessert.”

  “That’s so thoughtful of you. Denki,” Leah said. “Would you like to kumme in for tea? Gabriel and Esther aren’t contagious any longer, although I don’t think Esther will be able to join us. She’s still pretty weak. She was upstairs resting when I came outside.”

  “I wish I could, but I need to go stock up on groceries before it starts snowing again. Did you know we’re getting a blizzard on Sunndaag evening? A foot to a foot and a half of snow. Strong winds, too.”

  This news was so welcome to Leah she practically sang her response. “Neh. I hadn’t heard. Since I’m scheduled to leave on Muundaag, I’d better rearrange my travel plans again.”

  “Ach! What a shame. Hopefully you don’t have to delay your trip more than a day. Remember what I said. I’m hallich to help here. All my kinner are grown and gone, so my husband and I could stay overnight, if need be.”

  Leah thanked her, but when she went to the phone shanty that afternoon, she postponed her departure date until Monday, February 20—another full week—even though she could have gotten a seat on the minibus leaving on Wednesday, February 15.

  When her cousin expressed disbelief that every minibus was full until February 20, Leah confessed she had an ulterior motive for remaining in Ohio that long. After telling her about Jonathan, she said, “I’m deeply grateful that you’ve invited me to stay in your bungalow, so I’m not taking that gift for granted. But I’ve noticed a marked decline in Jonathan’s energy and mood since it’s been snowing. I’m concerned the blizzard might drag him down further. There are people who could help care for Esther and her husband and bobbel, but Jonathan doesn’t want anyone in his community to know he’s struggling.”

  Betty clicked her tongue against her teeth in sympathy. “It sounds like he needs some sunshine. You ought to tell him to hop on a minibus to Florida with you.”

  Leah sighed. “I wish that were possible. But even if I could convince him to kumme, where would he stay?”

  “Funny you should ask,” Betty said with a chuckle. “I’ve met a Mennonite man, Moses Kasdorf, who came down here to work on heiser that were damaged by the hurricane last fall. He’s shorthanded because two of his suh had to stay behind in Maryland with the flu. He’s offering a place to stay and a small salary in exchange for construction work.”

  Silently thanking the Lord for providing for her specific needs before she even knew to pray about them, Leah jotted down the man’s contact information. A dose of sunshine and carpentry would be perfect for Jonathan, she thought. And she couldn’t deny that being around Jonathan in Florida seemed like it would be perfect for her, too.

  Esther, however, was beside herself when she heard Leah was staying in Fawn Crossing another full week. Fortunately, she must have assumed there weren’
t any other seats available until the twentieth, so Leah didn’t have to be forthcoming with the details.

  “I’m hallich I get to have you here with me still, but this means you’ll only have a week in Florida.”

  “That’s still enough time to learn to play shuffleboard,” Leah assured her friend.

  Gabriel and Jonathan also took it for granted that Leah was staying until the following Monday because there were no seats available on any minibuses leaving earlier. She felt a little guilty for not disabusing them of that notion. If they had asked her directly, she would have told them she’d had the option of leaving earlier, but she was glad when they didn’t.

  Over the course of the next few days, Leah took every opportunity to spend time alone—primarily, while shoveling—with Jonathan. She knew if she was going to persuade him to join her in Florida, she’d first have to convince him he might be suffering from a lack of sunlight.

  While the blizzard on Sunday night dumped a foot of snow on Holmes County, the sun came out by late Monday morning. Jonathan and Leah shoveled intermittently throughout the day and by three o’clock, the driveway was as dry as a bone.

  “I can’t help but notice you’re more cheerful than usual this afternoon,” Leah remarked as she stomped off her boots on the porch. “I wonder if that’s because, despite the snowfall, the sun is shining brightly again.”

  “You’re still trying to convince me I have SAD, aren’t you?” Jonathan asked.

  “Neh, not exactly.” Leah hesitated. It would have been the perfect chance to tell him about the opportunity in Pinecraft, if only Jonathan weren’t so eager to get inside and warm up. So Leah just said, “As I keep telling you, only a dokder is qualified to diagnose you. But I definitely notice you smile more when the sun comes out.”