by Kelly Long
Emma nodded agreement. “I’m starting to get why he’s so hard to work with.”
“I’m sure that after the money’s raised, he’ll be grateful for all you’ve done. What everyone has contributed.” Emma considered her mother’s optimistic philosophy and offered a half grin. How she hoped Mamma was right.
She didn’t like going against Jonathan, that was for sure. At the same time, she loved Amos with all of her heart and yearned for him to be healthy like other kids his age. Every time the little boy wanted to play outside and she had to say no, her heart ached. If God granted her a wish for anything in the world, her request would be for getting her little friend well. No question.
CHAPTER 4
Emma darted an inquisitive, hopeful glance at the auction crowd. She looked down to see her shadow outside of the tent in which she stood. The dark spot disappeared immediately when two kids and an adult approached her table.
When the family pointed to the plates of iced cookies, Emma smiled a little. Selling the morsels had been even easier than she anticipated. Christmas was right around the corner, and many would use the treats they purchased for large family gatherings.
She wished she had more to offer; she was sure every cookie would sell, but at the same time, how could she hope for more? The large area of tables showed just how many donations she’d been able to raise. And the dozens of edibles were more iced cookies than she’d ever seen in her life!
A customer broke into her thoughts as he held out a twenty-dollar bill. “Which plate would you like?” she asked.
The middle-aged man shook his head. “No cookies for me. You can just add that to the pot.”
“Thank you, sir.”
After offering an appreciative smile, Emma slipped the bill into the large glass holder that was nearly full. Earlier, the container had been empty. But not now. The green bills of currency would barely go through the top button-like hole. She had to shove the man’s donation inside.
This was the fifth container. And there were more. Emma took a couple of steps back to make room for the group of women who entered the cookie area. She smiled a little as she listened to the numerous comments. They made small talk about the surgery to hopefully come and the little boy who needed it to survive.
The plot of land being used for today’s event was so packed, Emma could barely see the ground. Fortunately, it wasn’t raining or snowing. The combination of a few enclosures and gas heaters kept the grounds comfortably warm.
As she took in the energy surrounding her, Emma’s pulse beat to an uncertain pace as the bright sun smiled down on Arthur, Illinois. God had blessed them with an unusually calm, sunny day for the third week in December.
Everything about the fund-raiser contributed to the aura of excitement. The air smelled of grilled hamburgers, hot dogs, and a mixture of delicious-smelling foods. In the distance, she took in the old woman making saltwater taffy in a small wooden booth.
People held plastic cups of homemade lemonade. As they sipped beverages through their straws, Emma glimpsed the auctioneer, who was testing the microphone and checking things off on the notepad in front of him.
Emma’s heart skipped a beat as reality set in. Donations from her cookies looked like a lot in the clear glass jars, but she knew that the amount from her treats wouldn’t make a dent in the surgery bill and the therapy to follow. She took a deep breath to calm herself and contemplated what was about to take place on the center stage.
Truly, today’s success was dependent on the large donations that would come in from the expensive items under the large tent several hundred yards away. She squeezed her eyes closed to say a quick prayer. “Dear Lord, only You can help us get the money needed to fix little Amos’s heart. Please bless us with what we need. Amen.”
Word of mouth had it that over fifteen hundred had shown up in support of her dear little friend. Some had driven hours to offer money and support for the cause. So many different conversations took place that the voices had morphed into one solid loud sound.
A lady wearing an oversized red floppy hat asked Emma to help her package several dozen cookies. A sigh of gratitude escaped Emma’s throat as the woman handed her a hundred dollars. As Emma stashed the single bill into the jar, she thanked her.
Emma motioned for one of the men nearby to help the generous donor carry the treats to her car. Emma would have loved to assist, but she had to stay at the tent. If the momentum had anything to do with the amount of revenue being brought in, they should raise enough funds for little Amos’s procedure. Of course, she was a positive thinker.
She pressed her lips together and drew in a breath. Children about the age of Amos chased each other in games of tag. Mothers attempted to watch their kids at the same time they bid for furniture and other items up for grabs.
Emma smiled a little at the thought that soon, Amos would be as healthy as the little ones she watched with amazement. She wondered what it would feel like for him to chase his friends while hollering and screaming. To act like a kid instead of a cautious, restricted person.
That very realization prompted a lone tear. But as quickly as the moisture made its way down Emma’s face, she caught it with her hand and focused on what made her believe little Amos would soon join a different club.
A club that couldn’t care less whether he forgot to snap his coat at the neck. A new life for the special boy was about to unfold right in front of them. And it was because of the people here today. It was also due to the media attention and the Internet bids that would hopefully surpass her wildest dreams.
Emma pushed back a rebellious strand of hair that broke loose from her kapp. At the same time, she eyed her displays of iced stars to make sure the plastic coverings were still neatly tucked underneath the trays.
At least half of the cookies had already sold. And almost everyone who’d purchased had contributed generously. She regarded the huge number of folks who rapidly increased and prayed that the rest of the treats would bring as much revenue as the first half had.
Church friends worked in tents surrounding hers. Donations were pouring in from the Internet site set up by English friends. Emma smiled a little.
She turned her attention to the women approaching one of her tables. They were well-dressed. Because she didn’t recognize them, she guessed that they were from out of town.
She glanced around the huge crowd of hundreds and wondered whether Jonathan would show up. She hoped he would—and that God would work through him to change his mind about today.
* * *
Late that afternoon, Emma pushed out a sigh that was an odd combination of high energy and sheer exhaustion. The moment she ran a clean white rag over the last table, the tent team folded the metal legs and carried it to the large stack nearby.
The cleanup phase had kicked in. As Emma caught her breath, she considered the numerous tasks going on simultaneously.
As she organized her area, crews worked in full force. A couple of guys with long metal sticks scoured the grounds, stabbing litter and eventually discarding trash into large plastic bags.
At the same time, another team carefully calculated funds to be paid by buyers who had purchased various items at the live auction.
Amish and non-Amish men from the hardworking community and surrounding areas carried furniture from the master platform to vehicles lined up in a long-winding queue close to the grounds. Others helped to disassemble tents and booths. The publicity committee took down posters and signs.
Dull sounds of running engines filled the air as drivers pulled trucks and trailers closer to the loading zone. A rush of uncertainty and anxiousness swept up Emma’s spine with one swift, desperate motion and landed at the base of her neck. But she didn’t try to rid herself of it. Instead, she savored the sensation of finality.
She considered all that had transpired during the past couple of months and pushed out a satisfied sigh. She had done everything within her power to raise money for the delicate and unique proc
edure that Amos needed to stay alive.
At this point, the outcome was out of her hands. She rested a set of satisfied palms on her hips and smiled.
Mamma’s voice was a welcome interruption. Emma turned and took in her mother’s immaculate appearance.
As usual, Mamma wore a long-sleeved navy-colored dress. Emma pulled in a small sigh, wishing that she was half as perfect as her role model.
“The Lord is lookin’ out for us. Here, honey.” Mamma waved to nearby banners draped over two metal chairs. “Let me give you a hand.”
“Thanks, Mamma.” As if on cue, they each folded their ends together and stepped forward to meet each other, where Emma collected Mamma’s part and gave the material a final fold. Emma wasn’t sure whether the signs would be used again, but so much had gone into making the large, eye-catching advertisements, it seemed a shame to throw them away.
Automatically, Emma and her mother continued what needed to be done before leaving the auction site. While she worked, Emma’s thoughts traveled like the speed of light. One thing in particular nagged at her. One certain question pained her until she put it out in the open. “Mamma, I can’t wait to find out how much money we raised today! What have you heard?”
“There’s talk that the donations went through the roof.” Mamma laughed as she waved her hands. “Or through the tents.”
They giggled.
“Word has it that the Internet site brought in an astounding amount. It’s amazing how much compassion people have when it comes to little Amos.”
Emma’s heart warmed. “It certainly was a pleasant surprise to hear of the donations that poured in at the last minute.”
“Especially the one from the King family.”
“Jah.”
Mamma shrugged. “I’m not surprised, really. Eli has always been ultra-generous. ’Course, he lost his grandson a couple years back when that driver hit their family buggy. Such a shame.”
“And the boy was the same age as Amos.”
Mamma gave a big nod. “Jah. It goes without saying that little Amos’s heart condition must’ve hit home pretty hard.”
“But what on earth will Eli do with ten dozen cookies?”
Mamma shrugged. “They’ve got a big clan, those Kings. Ten kids and there must be close to a thousand grandkids and great-grandchildren,” she joked.
“And if rumor turns out to be true, everyone’s gonna be at their house for Christmas. I’d be willing to bet that those iced stars go fast.”
“They’d better build an addition. Otherwise, they’re gonna be shoulder to shoulder.”
“It must be every mamma’s dream to have a large, happy family like that.”
Mamma nodded.
To Emma’s surprise, a male piped in on their conversation. Emma looked in the direction of the voice to glimpse Marvin Beiler making his way toward them. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Extra-wide suspenders fought to keep his dress pants up over his well-fed midsection.
He wagged a finger. “It’s too much money.”
Emma looked at him to clarify.
Marvin went on. “We can’t raise enough green stuff for this surgery in one single auction.”
Emma glanced at her mother in time to see a light brown brow raise. Emma followed suit. “Now, Marvin, you’ve got to admit that we couldn’t have asked for a better turnout. You saw for yourself how much support little Amos has. What more can we do to convince you that this day was nothing less than a success?”
In a gruff voice, he supported his claim. “There’s no way to be sure what actually materialized until we have the Internet funds that are bein’ looked at as we speak.”
Emma jumped in. Although she tried to keep her tone positive, she couldn’t stop the harshness that edged her voice. It was common knowledge in the community that Marvin was the voice of doom. Why let him get the best of her?
Mamma had taught Emma to see the glass as half-full. It was the only way to be satisfied. And she was certain that God must like positive folks more than those without faith. To Emma’s dismay, the man standing between her and Mamma was a downer.
Emma tapped the toe of her sturdy black shoe against the hard earth. At the same time, she gave a dissatisfied roll of her eyes.
From Emma’s peripheral vision, she glimpsed Mamma eyeing her. The expression Emma knew all too well prompted the corners of her lips to turn upward into a smile. In reaction, Mamma grinned amusement.
In her silent code, Mamma had just warned Emma not to let Marvin get to her by a slight furrowing of her brows and by curving her lips in the way that she’d done for years.
Emma giggled.
“What’s so funny?”
Emma took in Marvin’s annoyed tone with a sense of humor. Mamma darted Emma a quick wink. The last thing she wanted was to appear rude.
Emma lifted her palms to the darkening sky. “I feel it. Marvin, I have faith that God will come through for us.”
Marvin’s jaw dropped in surprise. Emma had always been taught to respect her elders, so she lowered the pitch of her voice to a more sympathetic, understanding tone to qualm any doubt that she was disrespecting him.
“Marvin, you’re a good church man.”
He lifted his chin a notch.
“You surely don’t think God would actually deny little Amos his heart procedure?”
Marvin reacted to the suggestion by rubbing his fist against his chin. Several moments went by without a response. He finally shrugged. One of his suspenders had worked its way off his shoulder.
As if feeling the need to defend himself, he wagged a finger at Emma. “Don’t forget that the supporters only have till midnight to come through with their promises. We have yet to get the largest donation of a hundred thousand dollars.”
For a surprised moment, Emma lost her voice. She knew her eyes must have doubled in size as she digested the news. Not sure how to respond, an unexpected knot that blocked her throat stopped her from trying. Finally she got out her words. “A hundred thousand dollars?”
Marvin offered a nod. “The news came in last night. I’m surprised you didn’t hear—it was a pleasant surprise. But the donor’s anonymous. Hope this isn’t a prank. Could be some dreamer. Or maybe someone wanted to impress everyone with his generosity. Who knows?”
Emma hesitated, touching her pointer finger to her cheek. “But if it’s a real commitment, of course, the revenue will materialize.”
Marvin offered a firm shake of his head. “Not necessarily. Call me the world’s greatest pessimist, and they do, but I don’t think it’s realistic to plan for a hundred percent of the money we were promised to get.”
The statement nearly stopped Emma’s heart. “What do you mean?”
He gave an effortless lift of his shoulders. “Just what I said.”
While Emma considered his non-reassuring words, Mamma stepped in. “Of course everyone will contribute. The whole state is rootin’ for that poor little kid to get well. How could you even doubt that each and every commitment would come through?”
He squinted at the ground before meeting Mamma’s gaze. “It’s hard to say. But we’re human. And what I’ve learned over my sixty-some years is to keep my expectations low. This afternoon, I caught a conversation between a couple of young folk. One of them mentioned that he was borrowing money to contribute to the cause and he sure hoped his buddy wouldn’t let him down.”
Emma’s heart nearly sank.
At the look on her face, the tone of Marvin’s voice turned more sympathetic. “I’m just saying that there might be some who promised more than they could afford. That’s all. People got good intentions, ya know. When they signed up to give money, it’s only a pledge. Not a legally binding contract.”
Emma’s thoughts were too chaotic for her own good. She pulled in a desperate breath and wished she’d never met up with Marvin or suffered through this dismal conversation.
When Emma and her mamma remained unresponsive, Marvin went on. “Keep sayi
ng your prayers, Emma.” He looked down at his black shoes. When he lifted his chin, Emma saw that his gray-blue eyes had filled with moisture.
What she glimpsed brought tears to her own eye. At that moment, she realized that stress had gotten the best of her. She had been too hard on Marvin. She realized that his gruff exterior was misleading. Looking at his sincere expression now, she was sure that he wanted the auction to be a success. For several moments, she had lost her faith. And she regretted it with all of her heart.
Marvin wasn’t the cause of her stress. The issue was that the verdict still wasn’t out on how much this very important charitable event had actually raised. And Emma didn’t know how much longer she could stand the uncertainty of not knowing whether or not little Amos would get his lifesaving operation.
She sighed relief when Marvin finally nodded good-bye. After his departure, Emma and Mamma locked gazes. Mamma’s voice was unusually soft. “Honey, God answers prayers. And I just know He’ll answer ours. But the waiting . . . it’s so hard.”
Emma gave a frustrated shake of her head. “Mamma, do you believe what he said about people not following through with their promises?”
For a moment, Mamma looked away and pressed her lips together as if making a difficult decision. Finally, she turned back to Emma and reached for her hands. Emma closed her eyes, relishing the warmth and reassurance Mamma’s touch offered.
Emma forced a calm breath and focused on the positives of the event. There were so many, she couldn’t count them.
“Thank goodness, Cousin Sarah is on the revenue committee. We don’t need to worry, honey. God will do His will.”
“I know, Mamma. I’ve no doubt that she’ll follow up on every single donation. So will the rest of her team.” Emma glanced at the small portable clock on the one remaining chair. The ticking sound made an even beat. Above, the sun edged to the far west, and Emma realized how quickly the day had passed.
“Soon, the numbers will be out. We should have an update anytime.”
Mamma nodded. “Jah. Good thing we’ve got an efficient crew on it.”