The Amish Christmas Secret

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The Amish Christmas Secret Page 14

by Vannetta Chapman


  She found herself wishing she kept a journal, so she could write down each precious memory. But she knew she’d never forget.

  Was she falling in love with Daniel Glick?

  Was he falling in love with her?

  Beneath those questions lay a more difficult one. If they were, and if he asked her to marry, was she willing to accept a life of poverty? It was the only thing to mar her happiness—knowing that if she agreed to a life with Daniel, she’d be turning her back on any chance to help her family financially.

  Not that he would dissuade her from her get-less-poor schemes, but Becca was old enough to understand how these things went. They’d marry, and before five years were passed, they’d have three children. She’d continue having children for the next ten to fifteen years, as many as the Lord saw fit to give them.

  And part of her wanted that. Each time she looked at her schweschder Abigail, she thought, That could be me this time next year. Her heart would flutter and she’d have to step outside to gather her thoughts.

  But what of their living conditions?

  Was she ready to give up on the dream that they might one day have more?

  Someone else might chastise her for focusing on material things—someone who hadn’t lived her life, someone who had those material things she wasn’t supposed to hope for.

  But she’d been poor a long time.

  She understood what it was like to sit with a feverish sibling, hoping her temperature would drop so they wouldn’t need the doctor—wouldn’t have to dip into the benevolence fund yet again.

  She’d eaten soup not just for days on end, but once for an entire month as they waited for the harvest from their own garden, and money from the crops, and the chance to hunt for deer so they’d have meat.

  In some ways, she thought Daniel’s situation might be worse than theirs. He was undoubtedly as poor as they were, but at times he’d spend money as if he had baskets full of it. The items weren’t for himself, but did it make any difference? It seemed to Becca that he was purchasing things for others while he still had no money to buy furniture for his own house. He’d recently added two lawn chairs to his living room furniture. That was it. No coffee table. No bookcase. No rocking chair.

  Was she ready to go into even deeper poverty?

  Then he’d show up on her front porch with a basket of pine cones or a jar of red berries, or simply wanting to read to her from his journal, and she’d think, “Yes. I could live that way. If two people really care for one another, they can endure any hardship.”

  It was her first thought each morning and her last thought as she drifted off to sleep. Then nineteen days after Thanksgiving and one week before Christmas, she fell asleep in her room at the back of the house and dreamed of walking through a mist.

  She seemed to hear her family as if from a great distance, along with urgent barking from Cola the beagle. There was something she needed to find in the fog. There was someone she needed to see and talk to. She walked on and on, with occasional dark shadows looming close to her. Once she caught a glimpse of Carl-the-bad-tempered-rooster. A bird had set to beeping somewhere close to her. At other times, sounds that she couldn’t distinguish reached her.

  Her pulse began to accelerate and her skin went clammy.

  She began to run, with no real destination in mind—only the certain knowledge that she needed to get away and she needed to call for help.

  But her voice made no sound.

  She couldn’t outrun the ever-thickening fog.

  She was still alone and afraid and unsure what to do next.

  A loud bang caused her to sit up in bed. The fog that had plagued her throughout the dream surrounded her, and she could hear Cola’s desperate barking in the distance. She pulled in a deep breath, which only caused her to cough and gasp for air as she dropped to the floor.

  It wasn’t fog.

  And it wasn’t a dream.

  It was a fire.

  The beeping came from the fire alarms they’d placed in key places throughout the house.

  She shared a room with Francine and Georgia. They must still be here. They wouldn’t have left without her. She put out a hand, bumped into the door of their room and held her palm against it. It wasn’t hot. Good.

  Everything she’d been taught in school about fires came back to her in a rush.

  Check the door—not the doorknob—with your fingertips.

  Smoke is toxic, so stay low.

  If you can’t safely leave a room, keep smoke out by covering cracks.

  Signal for help with a flashlight.

  But they were at the back of the house. Who would see them? Did anyone else even know that there was a fire? Surely someone could hear the dog barking.

  She tried yelling, but it only made her cough louder and longer and deeper. The sound woke Francine and Georgia, who also began coughing.

  Becca grabbed three garments from the cubbies that held their clothes. She made her way to their beds, pulled them onto the floor and spoke in their ears.

  “Stay low. Hold this to your mouth. Francine, keep your other hand on my back. Georgia, you do the same to Francine. We’re going to the window.”

  Twice they ran into beds and realized they were going the wrong way, but finally, they made it to the window. She fumbled with the latch, and then as she pushed the window open, air rushed into the room—good air, though still tinged with the smell of fire.

  Becca gulped it as if it were water, filled her lungs and then turned to help her schweschdern climb outside.

  “Go to the front of the house. Wait by the old tree. Stay there until someone comes.”

  “But where are you...?”

  “Just go.” But instead of pushing, she pulled both girls to her, kissed them each on the cheeks, and then helped them climb through the open window.

  She couldn’t go. Not yet. Because she was thinking of Clyde, whose room was around the corner from hers, a room that had no window.

  * * *

  Daniel was in a sound sleep when he woke to the smell of smoke.

  His first thought was the barn. He pulled on his shoes, pants and a shirt, grabbed the blanket off his bed in case he needed to beat out flames, and hurried outside, praying that Constance wasn’t trapped.

  His barn was fine, silhouetted against the December sky by the half moon—a moon that provided enough light for him to see smoke coming from the Schwartz place.

  He didn’t bother going back inside for his coat. Instead, he dashed through their shared barn and across the adjoining field. What he saw when he topped the hill caused him to put his hands on his knees, both of which were trembling.

  The Schwartz family was huddled near a tree in the middle of their front yard.

  A fire truck with its sirens blaring and lights flashing was barreling down the lane.

  Fire was rapidly devouring the house, but at least everyone was out.

  Homes could be rebuilt. That thought circled round and round his brain as he ran toward Becca’s family. He was nearly on top of them before he realized they were all staring toward the house. Francine and Georgia were crying. Hannah and Isabelle stood close together holding hands. Sarah was pleading with her boys not to rush back into the house.

  “Your dat went. He’ll find her.”

  He didn’t have to ask who. Instead, he turned and ran toward the burning building. He was nearly to the porch when Samuel tumbled out of the house, a blanket wrapped around Becca, both of them gasping for breath.

  Instead of asking questions, he supported Becca on the other side and helped walk her to her family. He wanted to pick her up and carry her. He wanted to pull her into his arms and never let her go.

  He thought Becca might collapse into her mother’s embrace, but instead, she dropped the blanket around her shoulders and ran to her bruder Clyde.


  “I thought you were in there. Thought you would be trapped because your room has no windows.”

  “I was with Melinda. We were out late. When I came home, I saw... I saw...” And then he turned and walked away from the group, his head bowed and his shoulders shaking.

  “He’s okay. He’ll be okay.” Samuel hurried after Clyde, put his arms around the young man, gave him all of his attention even as the firefighters were climbing out of their truck and the house was collapsing behind him.

  “You’re okay?” Daniel reached for Becca. He needed to touch her, needed to look in her eyes. “Tell me you’re okay. You’re not hurt?”

  “I’m fine...”

  “I was so terrified, Becca. So afraid...” And then he pulled her to him and held her until her shaking lessened.

  The firefighters began to spray water from the pump truck onto the perimeter of the fire. There was nothing to be done for the structure, but they made sure that it wouldn’t spread to the fields or barn beyond.

  Before they’d even finished, neighbors began arriving with blankets and coats and thermoses of hot coffee.

  Bishop Saul was one of the first on the scene, speaking with Sarah and Samuel first, then taking a moment with each of the children.

  Paramedics arrived and checked out everyone’s breathing, put some salve on Samuel’s hands, which had been burned slightly when he went back into the house looking for Becca.

  Each of their neighbors—Amish and Englisch—came over and shared their condolences, and then they offered clothes, showers, a place to stay. Several times Daniel heard someone proclaim, “A week before Christmas. What a tragedy.”

  Sarah looked overwhelmed, and her children were traumatized, confused and exhausted. It was the bishop who finally stepped in.

  “The firefighters will stay and make sure there are no flare-ups.”

  He was interrupted by an older gentleman wearing a firefighter’s uniform. “We won’t know the cause for certain until the blaze is completely out and we can sift through the wreckage. Did you have a wood-burning stove in the middle of the house?”

  “Ya.” Samuel’s voice was shaky. “In the sitting room.”

  “The fire appeared to be hottest there. My guess is it started in the stove pipe.” He pulled off his helmet and wiped a beefy hand over his face. “Can’t tell you how glad I am you had those fire alarms installed. I’m aware some Amish don’t, but tonight, they saved your lives.”

  “Gotte saved our lives,” Samuel said.

  “Perhaps Gotte provided the smoke alarms.” Bishop Saul thanked the fireman, then turned back to the family. “Where were we?”

  “You were telling us what’s been done.”

  “Oh, yes. The Bontragers have taken your gelding to their place for now. I suggest that you all come to my house. We’ll feed the children, have some coffee and figure out what to do next.”

  “We’ll never all fit in your buggy,” Samuel pointed out.

  Which was the opening that Daniel had been waiting for. “I’ll run and fetch mine.”

  “That would be very kind, Daniel. Thank you, and thank you for staying with my family through this night.”

  Had the night ended?

  Was that the pale light of dawn at the edge of the eastern horizon?

  He had no idea, and it didn’t matter. What mattered was that Becca was okay and none of her family had been injured. Daniel wasn’t ready to let any of them out of his sight.

  He jogged back to his house, paused to grab his hat and coat, then harnessed Constance, who looked rather surprised to be going somewhere so close to dawn.

  Within the hour they’d loaded the entire family up and traveled the short distance to the bishop’s home. They walked inside to find three of the women from their district there. They’d already made coffee and set out milk and juice for the children. The kitchen cabinets were covered with breakfast casseroles, breads and fruit salads.

  The room was full to overflowing, but when Saul raised his hands, everyone quieted. Though he didn’t bow his head, Daniel understood that he was offering a prayer on their behalf.

  “We are grateful, this day, for the well-being of this family—our bruders and schweschdern. We are grateful to you, Gotte, that you have provided, even as our hearts grieve for what is lost. We are grateful for one another.”

  Amens filled the room, then everyone was filling their plate and talking about the events of the night.

  Becca took her plate to a corner of the living room, and Daniel thought maybe she wanted to be alone. Then she looked up, right at him, and it was as if he could hear her thoughts.

  He crossed the room in four long strides and sat on the floor beside her.

  “Are you okay?”

  “You already asked me that.”

  “But are you?”

  “Ya. I am.” She stared at her plate, then set it on the floor and covered her face with her hands.

  “Talk to me, Becca.”

  “I had a...a dream, and then when I woke and realized what was happening, I was so afraid.”

  “Anyone would have been.”

  “Even as it was happening, I thought, This will be okay. We know what to do. We’re okay.”

  “I’m so grateful you were.”

  “But then I remembered Clyde. Clyde, who snores so loud that I can sometimes hear him through the walls. He sleeps so hard that he once slept through an entire train ride to Ohio to see our cousins—whistle stops and conductors and passengers jostling back and forth.” She crossed her arms around her middle, no longer trying to hide the tears streaming down her face. “I was terrified that he hadn’t heard the alarms, that he’d sleep through the fire. That he’d die because he wouldn’t wake up. I’ve never been that afraid.”

  Daniel understood that there was nothing he could say to that, nothing he needed to say. So instead, he pulled her into his arms and let her weep.

  Someone was sent to tell Abigail that they were fine. Since she was in her final month of pregnancy, they didn’t want her to hear of the fire and worry for even one second.

  The next hour passed with everyone eating their fill. Eventually the neighbors who had prepared the breakfast left, and the bishop finally called a meeting in the kitchen.

  Becca and her mamm and dat filed back into the kitchen. Saul and Sarah and Samuel sat, but Becca remained standing, so Daniel did, as well.

  Daniel glanced from Samuel to Becca, then back again. “If you’d like me to go...”

  “Nein. It’s gut for you to be here.” Samuel placed his hand over his wife’s.

  Saul cleared his throat. “We will rebuild your home, of course. There’s plenty of money in the benevolence fund, so there won’t need to be an auction.” Saul glanced at Daniel, held his gaze for a moment.

  Daniel had the slightest fear that Saul would spill his secret, but instead, the bishop nodded and continued.

  “Unfortunately it looks like we’re in for some wintry weather the next few weeks, so it will be past the first of the year before we can get started.”

  “However long it takes,” Samuel said. “We appreciate it. We really do.”

  “You have done the same for others, Samuel. Your appreciation is noted, but don’t start thinking that you owe anyone. You do not. You are an important part of our community, and as such, we support one another. Am I clear?”

  “Ya.”

  “Gut. Now the more immediate problem is where you’re to live until the house is rebuilt. Gotte has blessed you with a big family. We’ve had several come forward already and offer a spare room.”

  “We’ll have to be split up...” Understanding dawned on Sarah’s face. She looked up at her husband, and Samuel shrugged.

  “If it’s the only way.”

  “It’ll only be a few weeks.” Saul tapped the table. “We’ll
begin rebuilding as soon as the weather allows.”

  Daniel didn’t think about what he said next. If he had, he would have realized that it was a selfish thing—wanting the entire Schwartz family near him, wanting Becca near him. They’d become such an integral part of his life. He couldn’t stand to see them farmed out, not even for a few weeks.

  But all of that occurred to him later.

  At the moment, he didn’t bother analyzing what he was about to do. Instead, he stepped forward and said what was on his heart. “Nein, you don’t have to break up the family. You can all stay with me.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Becca, her parents and the bishop all turned to stare at Daniel. It was Saul who found his voice first. “You’re saying that you’d take the entire family into your home?”

  Mamm had closed her eyes, clasped her hands together and was uttering a prayer of relief. Dat, for once, seemed speechless, and Becca couldn’t believe that she’d heard Daniel correctly. It was one thing to offer sympathy for a neighbor, another thing entirely to change your life for them.

  “Why’s everyone looking at me as if I suggested something outrageous?”

  “Because our family can be a lot.” Becca glanced into the bishop’s sitting room. All seven of her younger siblings were piled on the couch—Hannah on Clyde’s lap, Isabelle on David’s. Eli, Francine and Georgia were squished in next to them—as if they needed to be close, needed to be certain that the entire family was intact. “They’re quiet now because they’re still in shock, but you’re talking about allowing ten people to move in with you.”

  “I can count. I certainly don’t want to argue, but I also don’t see what the big deal is. You are my neighbors. You’re my closest friends in Shipshe. Why should your family be separated if they don’t have to be?” He stared up at the ceiling for a moment, then added somewhat defiantly, “There’s plenty of room.”

  Saul looked to Samuel, waiting for him to decide. But Samuel had already made his decision, Becca could tell that as plain as day. From the tears in his eyes to the way he clasped her mamm’s hand, it was obvious that he would accept. He stood, stepped toward Daniel, placed a hand on his shoulder and tried to speak. He cleared his throat twice, as if he could dislodge the sorrow there, and then swiped a hand across his eyes.

 

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