“Go on with life?” Rebekah sobbed. “What life, Mom? What kind of a life can a person with a handicap like mine ever have? What happiness awaits someone like me?”
“Oh, Rebekah, it is possible for you to have a meaningful life. Why, many people in the world have disabilities, and most of them live fairly productive lives.” Mom squeezed Rebekah’s shoulder. “You were always such a pleasant, easygoing child, and I thought you had come to accept your limitations. However, since you’ve become a young woman, I’ve noticed a definite change in your attitude, and I’m not sure I like what I see.”
Rebekah sniffed deeply, swiping at the tears running down her cheeks. “When I was a little girl, you all spoiled me. Someone was always around to care for me or just sit and talk, the way Grandma often did. I thought there would always be someone available to provide for my needs. Now I know I’m really a burden, and someday I might not have anyone to care for me.”
Mom moved from her place on the bed and knelt in front of Rebekah. She grasped her hands and held them tightly. “Losing Grandma has made us all aware of how fragile life is. None of us will live on this earth forever. Someday, every believer will join Grandma in heaven.” She closed her eyes, as though searching for just the right words. When she opened them again, she was smiling. “We’re a close family, and I’m sure that, even after your daed and I are both gone, someone will take over the responsibility of your care.”
Rebekah nearly choked on the sob rising in her throat. “I—I don’t want anyone to have to be responsible for me. I want to provide for myself—at least financially.” She wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. “I just don’t know what someone like me can do to make enough money in order to accomplish that goal.”
“You could sell eggs or do some handcrafts and take them to the farmers’ market,” Mom suggested.
“Doing small things like selling eggs or crafts wouldn’t give me enough money.” Rebekah felt as if Mom was treating her like a child, and it irked her just a bit.
“If it means so much to you, maybe you should pray about the matter and search God’s Word for wisdom.” Mom stood. “Why don’t you keep Grandma’s Biewel? I think she would have wanted you to have it. I know the scriptures gave her a lot of comfort, not to mention answers whenever she needed the Lord’s guidance.”
Rebekah thought about the underlined verses in Grandma’s Bible. Maybe she would continue to search for other scriptures Grandma might have underlined or highlighted. Perhaps the miracle she was looking for could be found in one of those passages.
***
Sarah returned to the kitchen with a heavy heart, and she flopped into a chair at the table with a moan. If there was only something she could say or do to help her daughter accept her limitations and gain back the joy she had known when she was a child. As a toddler, Rebekah had been so adventuresome, always attempting new things, and full of laughter and smiles, even when she fell down or didn’t get her way on something. The first few years after Rebekah’s accident, she had been easygoing and seemed positive about her situation.
But things began to change when Rebekah started into puberty, and by the time she’d become a teenager, she had developed a completely different attitude. Things she used to shrug off or even laugh about now became issues. She seemed worried about being a burden to others, lacked the confidence of other young women her age, and sometimes succumbed to depression.
Since Grandma’s passing, Rebekah’s dismal attitude seemed to have gotten worse, and it concerned Sarah that she couldn’t reach her daughter or help ease her despair.
Sarah glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall near the door and shook her head. The handicap convention had already taken place, and there wouldn’t be another one until next year, so the idea of taking Rebekah there was certainly out. If only she had been willing to go. If only...
Feeling the need to pray, Sarah closed her eyes and lowered her head to the table. Heavenly Father, please comfort Rebekah, and give me the strength to keep trying to be an encouragement to her. She paused and swiped at the tears trickling down her cheeks. If it’s Your will for my daughter to become self-sufficient, then please show us the way.
***
For the next several days, Rebekah spent every free moment looking through Grandma’s well-worn Bible. On almost every page, she found a verse of scripture that had been underlined. In some places she discovered that Grandma had scrawled notes in the margin or at the bottom of certain pages, mentioning how some particular verse had spoken to her heart. There was no doubt in Rebekah’s mind—Grandma Stoltzfus had lived and died by the truth of God’s Word. Perhaps that’s what Rebekah needed to do, too.
One morning after breakfast, Rebekah found herself alone in the house. Mom and Nadine were outside weeding the garden, and Dad and Simon were hard at work in the fields. She decided this would be a good time to read a few more scriptures from Grandma’s Bible. Rebekah positioned her wheelchair at the kitchen table and set the Biewel and a glass of cold lemonade in front of her. A deep sense of longing encompassed her soul as she silently prayed, What words do You have for me today, Lord? I need to know whether You have a special plan for my life.
She opened the Bible to a place that Grandma had marked with a small piece of ribbon. As she studied the page, she spotted another underlined passage, Jeremiah 31:3–4. “The Lo r d hath appeared of old unto me, saying, Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting love: therefore with lovingkindness have I drawn thee. Again I will build thee, and thou shalt be built.”
Rebekah sat for several minutes, pondering the scripture. Deep in her heart she knew God loved her, but was His Word saying He wanted to rebuild her? If so, did it mean rebuild her body? Now, that would take a huge miracle. No, she was fairly sure the scripture referred to being spiritually renewed and rebuilt, and she knew she was in need of that, especially where her lack of faith and tendency to fear the unknown were concerned.
For the next little while, Rebekah continued to seek out verses. She was pleased to discover several that dealt with the subject of fear. Psalm 34:4 in particular spoke to her heart: “I sought the Lo r d, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears.” After Rebekah read the verse a couple more times, she had a deep sense that she must not be afraid of her dreams anymore or of being left alone. God would provide for her needs and calm her fears; she just needed to be faithful and learn to trust Him more.
With a feeling of peace she hadn’t felt in many months, Rebekah closed the Bible, bowed her head, and offered a silent prayer . Dear Father, thank You for reminding me that You love me with an everlasting love and want to build up my faith. Please draw me closer to You, and help me remember not to fear but to trust in You. And if it’s Your will for me to support myself financially, then please show me how. Guide me, direct me, and prepare my heart for a true miracle from You. Amen.
***
When Sarah finished her weeding and returned to the house, she was surprised to see that Rebekah was not in the kitchen where she had been earlier. Figuring her daughter might have gone to her room, she rapped on the door.
No answer.
“Rebekah, are you there?”
Still no response.
“Maybe she went to Grandma’s old room.” Sarah moved to the next room and knocked on that door.
“Come in.”
She opened the door and spotted Rebekah sitting in her wheelchair, watering some of Grandma’s African violets that had been placed on the window ledge. “I thought I might find you in here,” she said, crossing the room to join her daughter in front of the window.
Rebekah turned her head and gave Sarah a questioning look. “Did you need me for something?”
“Not really, but I did want to talk to you about an idea I have.”
“What idea is that, Mom?”
“Your daed’s hired a driver to take us to the farmers’ market tomorrow, where we plan to sell some of our fresh produce and a few other things. Since you seem so s
et on wanting to make some money of your own, I thought you might like to take some flowers from the garden or maybe a few of these houseplants to sell,” she said, motioning to the violets.
“Sell off Grandma’s plants?” Rebekah’s eyebrows furrowed as she shook her head. “No, Mom, I could never do that. It wouldn’t be right. No, not right at all.”
“Why not?”
“Because the African violets were so special to her.” Rebekah’s smile never quite reached her eyes. “They help keep her memory alive, too.”
“Grandma’s memory will always be alive in our hearts,” Sarah said. “We have many other things to remind us of her besides the plants, and I don’t think Grandma would mind if you sold a few violets so you could have some money of your own.”
“I do want to start making money, but selling off Grandma’s plants? Sorry, but I just couldn’t do that and feel good about it.”
“Why not take cut flowers from the garden then? I’m sure those would sell, too.”
“That would be all right, I suppose.” Rebekah stared out the window with a wistful expression. Suddenly, she snapped her fingers and smiled. “I know! I could take some starts from Grandma’s plants. All I need to do is put them in some pots full of good soil, and they’ll soon become new plants of their own. It might even be good for the bigger plants to be thinned a bit. At least that’s what Grandma used to say whenever I asked her why she was pinching some of the leaves off the violets and repotting them in smaller pots.”
“I think that’s a fine idea. If you want, I’ll help you get the cuttings done today.”
“Danki for offering, but if I’m to make the money from the plants, then I want to do all the work myself.” She blinked a couple of times. “Besides, this is something I can do without any help at all.”
“Okay.” Sarah clasped Rebekah’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. She turned to leave, but before she got to the door, Rebekah called out to her.
“Mom, there’s one more thing.”
“What’s that, Rebekah?”
“I think I’m ready to start writing some things in my Budget column again.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Maybe you can write up something about our trip to the farmers’ market.”
“Jah, maybe so.”
“All right then. Tomorrow you can share our sales table at the market, and we’ll see how everything goes.” Sarah went out the door, feeling a little more hopeful about Rebekah. She knew full well how important it was for her daughter to feel independent, and she would do nothing to stand in the way of Rebekah doing something on her own.
CHAPTER 5
The farmers’ market seemed unusually busy, and the proof was in the parking lot, nearly full of cars. “It must be all the summer tourists,” Dad said to Mom as they began unloading their things from the back of Vera Miller’s van.
She smiled. “Jah, business should be good today.”
Rebekah sat in her wheelchair beside the van, holding a box of African violet cuttings in her lap. “I hope so,” she put in. “All the pruning and potting I did yesterday had better pay off.”
Nadine, who stood behind Rebekah, leaned over her shoulder. “Want me to push you inside the building?”
Rebekah nodded. She hated to ask for assistance, but if she let go of the box in order to manipulate her wheelchair, she would probably end up losing the whole thing.
A few minutes later, they headed for the market building, each carrying a box of their own.
Once Rebekah’s father and brother got tables set up, they started making sales. Mom had some vine-ripened, juicy red tomatoes and baskets of plump, sweet raspberries from her garden; Dad had brought some of his delicious, quick-to-make root beer; Simon sold cartons of bulky brown eggs; Nadine had several batches of chocolate cupcakes and ginger cookies for sale; and Rebekah had her freshly cut flowers and starts from several of Grandma’s plants.
By noon, nearly all of Rebekah’s African violet starts had been sold and many of the cut flowers, as well. It was the first time she’d ever made so much money in such a short time, and she was pleased that she had finally done something that might prove to be financially productive if she had more plants to sell and could come to the market more often.
“How’s business?” Mary Ellen asked as she stepped up to the table Rebekah shared with her two siblings.
Rebekah grinned. “Much better than I’d ever imagined it would be. I only wish I had more plants and flowers to sell. If the market was open six days a week, I believe I could actually make enough money to be self-sufficient.”
Mary Ellen nodded. “That would be wunderbaar, all right.”
“Even if it was open all week, I couldn’t afford to hire a driver that often.” Rebekah shrugged. “Oh, well. It was a nice thought, anyway.”
“You really do like flowers and plants, don’t you?”
Rebekah’s head bobbed up and down. “Jah. Ever so much.”
“And as you’ve said, you’ve discovered today that they sell quite well.”
“Indeed! I’ve done real well.”
Mary Ellen leaned close to Rebekah’s ear. “Can you take a little break? I’d like to talk with you—in private.”
“About what?”
“I think I might have a great plan for you.”
“What is it? Can’t you tell me now?”
“We’d probably be interrupted by a customer if we tried to talk about it here.”
Rebekah nodded. “Okay. It’s time for lunch anyway, so I’ll ask Nadine to watch my end of the table, and then I’ll get the box lunch my mamm prepared this morning. We were planning to eat in shifts, so I’m sure Mom won’t mind if I take my lunch break with you.”
Mary Ellen grinned. “Sounds good to me. We can eat under the shade of that old maple tree out behind the building.”
***
Soon after Rebekah wheeled away from their table, Nadine spotted her friend Carolyn Weaver heading her way. A freckle-faced Amish boy who looked to be about Nadine’s age walked beside Carolyn. Nadine didn’t think she had ever seen him before, but she thought he was awfully cute.
When Carolyn and the boy reached the end of the table where Nadine sat babysitting Rebekah’s plants, they came to a halt.
“Didn’t expect to see you here today,” Carolyn said, offering Nadine a wide smile.
“Didn’t expect to be here, neither.” Nadine’s gaze went to the dark-haired boy who stood beside her friend. Wasn’t Carolyn going to introduce him?
As if she could read Nadine’s mind, Carolyn nodded at the boy and said, “Nadine, this is my cousin Melvin. He and his family live in Missouri, and they’ve come to Lancaster County to visit for a couple of weeks.”
Nadine put on what she hoped was her best smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Melvin.” She glanced over to see what her folks were doing and was pleased to see that they were both busy with customers at the moment.
“Nice to meet you, too,” he said with a friendly grin.
Nadine leaned her elbows on the table and stared up at him. “I’ve never been to Missouri before. What’s it like?”
Melvin shrugged his broad shoulders. “The weather’s not much different than it is here, but the community we live in is a whole lot smaller.” He scrunched up his nose. “Not much to do around there—that’s for certain sure.”
“No big towns nearby?”
“Nope. Just Seymour, and that’s a pretty small place. The closest big town is Springfield, but of course, I don’t get to go there so often.”
“Is there a farmers’ market in Seymour?”
“Just during the summer, and it’s nothing at all like this place.” He made a sweeping gesture to the tables nearby. “Ours is held outside in a vacant lot across the street from the hamburger place, not in a big building such as this.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Have you had your lunch yet?” Carolyn asked, breaking into their conversation.
Nadine shook her head.
“Want to get a hot dog with me and Melvin?”
Of course Nadine wanted to go. Selling Rebekah’s plants was boring, and it would give her a chance to get to know Carolyn’s cousin a little better. “Let me ask my folks.”
Nadine pushed her chair aside and moved to the other table, where Dad sat with his jugs of root beer, and Mom her mounds of produce. “Can I go have lunch with my friend Carolyn and her cousin?” Nadine asked, leaning close to her mother’s ear.
Mom shook her head. “Not until Rebekah gets back. You’re needed here right now.”
“How come?”
“Someone needs to keep an eye on her flowers.”
“But that’s not fair. You let Simon go to lunch at the same time as Rebekah.”
“And you shall go as soon as they get back.”
“But why can’t you and Dad watch Rebekah’s table?”
“Because the market is really busy, and a lot of customers are heading our way,” Dad interjected. “So put on your best smile, sell lots of your sister’s plants while she’s gone, and no sulking. You hear?”
Nadine grunted and moved back to her end of the table. “Sorry, but I can’t go to lunch until my sister and brother get back.” She kept her gaze fixed on one of the African violets, afraid if she looked at Melvin as she spoke he might see the tears that were stinging the back of her eyes and threatening to spill over.
“How long will they be gone?” Carolyn asked.
“Probably another half hour or so.”
“I guess we could walk around awhile and come back for you then.”
Hope welled in Nadine’s soul, but before she could give a reply, Melvin spoke up. “I’m really hungry, so if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll head over to the hot-dog stand right now.”
“Jah, okay. Maybe we can visit some other time,” Nadine mumbled.
As Carolyn and Melvin walked away, Nadine pushed one of Rebekah’s plants closer to the front of the table and gritted her teeth. Rebekah always gets to do what she wants. Sometimes I wish I were the one in a wheelchair.
Looking for a Miracle Page 5