The Amish Christmas Candle

by Long, Kelly; Beckstrand, Jennifer; Baker, Lisa Jones

  As she spread the soft-looking white mixture over the cooled treats, she imagined tomorrow, when their home would be bouncing with people, laughter, and little ones running around in bare feet.

  But to Lydia’s dismay, a sad admission caused the corners of her lips to turn down into a frown. Because she already loved the King family as if she was a part of their clan. And she was especially fond of John.

  She’d become so accustomed to talking to him and watching his eyes light up when they conversed. She hadn’t dared to consider the end of today, when they would no longer be working together. She squeezed her eyes closed tightly to rid that dismal thought.

  When she opened her lids, salty moisture stung her eyes, and she quickly blinked at the irritating sting. She forced herself to think of the positives. After all, it was Christmas Eve.

  The loud timer interrupted Lydia’s thoughts, and she straightened to focus on her responsibilities. As a tray of cool rolls was passed to her, she took in the smell. Her mouth watered.

  She gave her powdered sugar mixture an extra stir before planting a teaspoonful of white glaze on each roll.

  But as voices happily floated around her, she realized something she hadn’t recognized before.

  That very realization made her lungs pump harder for air. Because she had an additional Christmas wish. One she must keep secret. And that very wish was to court John King and to be in his life forever.

  * * *

  Later that evening, Lydia stood in front of the red candle in their living room window. With one swift motion, she lit the match and applied it to the wick. As the flame burned, the light fragrance of cinnamon filled her senses.

  She should be elated that her Christmas dream had come true. However, a sigh that was a conflicting combination of satisfaction and regret escaped her throat.

  Joyful events from the day floated through her mind, finally prompting the corners of her lips to lift into a huge satisfied smile. To think, a month ago she hadn’t believed she could make it through December and now, she was experiencing the best Christmas ever. In her entire life, she’d never seen as many smiles. Or heard as many thank yous.

  While she took in the special candle and its significance, tears of joy wet her eyes. The burning flame was a valid reminder that she’d achieved her Christmas dream with flying colors.

  In deep appreciation, she closed her eyes and pressed her palms together. She breathed in deeply and pushed out the air before lowering her chin in gratitude. “Dear Lord, I give you all the praise and thanks for giving me the most joyous, meaningful Christmas ever. Thank you especially for the King family and John, and bless all of the people I worked with today. I pray you will help me to continue to serve you and only you. Amen.”

  When she opened her eyelids, the sad reality hit her. The day that had provided her more joy than she’d ever had in her entire life was over. As melted wax began slowly dripping down the sides of the candle, she realized that not only had this day ended, but also her time with John and his siblings.

  Of course, from the beginning, she’d known that their time together was temporary. What she hadn’t realized was the impact the denouement would have on her.

  As she glimpsed the bright, fragile-looking stars that cluttered the unusually dark sky, she parted her lips in awe. She missed the noise. The laughter. She even missed the preparation that had gone into the drive. And she especially missed bumping into each other and the chitchatting as each of them had carried through with their jobs.

  Lydia plopped down in the nearest chaise and rested her chin on her right fist, contemplating the complete turnaround her life had taken in the past few weeks. She’d first wondered how she would get through the holiday. Now, she wasn’t sure how she’d carry on afterward! How her life had changed.

  And her own needs had been tremendously altered by what had recently occurred. Being with the King brood had enlightened her in many ways. More than ever, she yearned for a large family. She imagined little ones running around in the house. Crying. Laughing.

  When her thoughts landed on John, her heart fluttered. She’d never had an interest in the boys at church. Hadn’t even given thought to falling in love. Mamma had always taught her that love didn’t have anything to do with infatuation or looks. Or an unrealistic sensation that could easily confuse a person as to what’s right or wrong.

  That true love meant helping with the kids or doing errands. That it was all about being there for your spouse, dependability when things were bad as when they were good. Lydia tapped the toe of her black shoe to a nervous, uncertain beat against the wooden floor.

  She stiffened. Does that mean that Mamma’s heart never flutters when she looks at Daddy? Is Mamma trying to tell me that their marriage is only about helping each other out?

  Lydia drew her brows together in a deep frown of concentration while she considered that piece of information that was routinely offered. For some strange reason, Lydia wanted her own marriage to be much, much more than her mother’s definition. With a hopeful sigh, she contemplated times her parents had looked at each other and tried to recall if she’d ever noticed a special light in their eyes.

  Lydia thought about the other couples she’d seen. When she’d attended events in the community, she’d glimpsed English girls and boys holding hands. Even kissing. The Plain Faith wasn’t into public display of affection. Of course, Lydia didn’t pass judgment on others. That wasn’t her place.

  As she sat very still, thinking of John and considering the marriages she’d witnessed within their Amish community, a wave of disappointment floated through her. She didn’t know what God had in store for her. And she wouldn’t even try to guess.

  But deep down inside of her heart, she wished for a husband who truly loved and cherished her for the person she was. Isn’t it okay for my heart to flutter? Given that John is not of the Plain Faith, envisioning a relationship with him can only lead to disappointment. Because we can never be together. But I can dream. And I can pray for God to give me the man I would love to spend my life with.

  * * *

  That evening, the King household buzzed with excitement. A great sense of satisfaction and relief filled John’s chest while he grabbed his coat.

  A nudge on his shoulder stopped his thoughts. He looked down at Hannah’s freckled grin and smiled a little. He narrowed a suspicious set of brows. “What?”

  “You did a great job leading the drive.” A sigh escaped her. “I’ll never forget the looks on the faces of those people we gave the cinnamon rolls to.”

  “Yeah, it was quite a day, wasn’t it?”

  For several awkward moments, he studied the odd expression on her face. Finally, she smiled a little. “Are you going over to Lydia’s house?”

  The question gave him pause, and he continued to stuff his arms in his wool jacket. Adjusting for a comfortable fit, he sensed mischief. He knew Hannah well. And he loved her. But she had a subtle way of getting involved in other’s people’s business.

  He tried for a calm tone. “No, I didn’t plan on it. Why?”

  She hugged her hands to her hips and rolled her eyes. “I was hoping the two of you would see each other after the drive. She likes you, John. And I know you like her. And Lydia and I . . . we’re friends now.”

  John considered his sister’s obvious wish and smiled a little. “Don’t tell me you’re playing matchmaker.”

  When she didn’t reply, he lowered the pitch of his voice to a mere whisper and motioned to the corner of the kitchen. The house was filled with people, and the last thing he wanted was for someone to get wind of this conversation.

  “Hannah, you know Lydia and I can’t be together. Even if we wanted to.”

  Hannah pleaded. “Why ever not?” She stepped forward to meet his gaze.

  John lifted his palms in a dismissive gesture. “Because she’s Amish. To court Lydia, I’d have to join the Plain Faith.”

  After a long pause, Lydia gave a gentle lift of her shoulders.
“And what’s so bad about that?”

  * * *

  Moments later, inside of the barn, John couldn’t rid his recent conversation with Hannah from his mind. As he filled the water troughs, her words nagged at him.

  What’s so bad about that?

  The question stabbed at him until he finally sat down on the nearest bale of straw. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he focused on Hannah. And Lydia.

  The thought of the beautiful Amish girl brought a grin to his lips. Every time she popped into his mind, a warm, happy sensation filled him until he wanted to jump up and down.

  Don’t be ridiculous. But is being enamored with an Amish girl so ridiculous, really? A girl who’s good and honest? Someone who makes me happier than I’ve ever been? I want to see her. But I’ve been a Mennonite my entire life. The only way to be with her would be to switch to the Plain Faith. Could I do it?

  * * *

  The doorbell sounded at the Schultz home. Lydia jumped up from her chair. She stepped to the side door, where Daddy was letting John King into the kitchen.

  She didn’t try to stymie the excitement from her voice. “It’s gut to see you!”

  “Merry Christmas, Lydia. I came by to thank you for all the work you did for our drive.”

  She motioned him in.

  As he removed his coat, she smiled a little. “Come and see the candle I lit to celebrate my Christmas dream coming true.”

  He followed her into the living room. She eyed him before focusing her attention on the flame from the single red candle.

  “My Christmas dream came true, John. And it’s all because of you. Since I’ve been working for the drive, I put serving others before myself, and throughout the month, I’ve realized the true blessing of Christmas.”

  She paused to compose her emotions. “Of course, I always knew the significance of the birth of Christ. I’ve heard it over and over in church and in Scripture. But this year . . .” She drew in a deep breath and pushed it out. “I’ve truly experienced the true meaning.”

  A long silence ensued while Lydia took in the powerful significance of what she’d just said. Salty emotional tears of joy filled her eyes.

  “Lydia, I have a confession.”

  She parted her lips and studied him.

  He chuckled. “Don’t you want to know what it is?”

  She offered an eager nod.

  “When I drove home after having dinner with you and your parents, I couldn’t stop thinking about how you miss your sister and that you needed a Christmas wish. So I came up with my own goal. To bring joy to you as we prepared the celebration of the birth of Jesus. And . . .”

  He paused to laugh. “I think God planted you in my life to help me.”

  “To help you?”

  He lowered the pitch of his voice to a more emotional tone. “Lydia, this is the most satisfying Christmas I’ve ever had. Working with you has brought me joy.”

  A surprised breath escaped her throat. Speechless, Lydia contemplated what she’d just heard. Without warning, this conversation had catapulted her feelings for him to a whole new level. The surprising admission gave her pause as she faced reality.

  “I’m so glad to hear it, John. It means the world to me that I’ve done something for you. All the time, I thought helping with the drive was for me. For my goal.”

  “You didn’t know that being with you made me happy?”

  The question took her breath away. Warmth filled her cheeks until she lowered her gaze to the floor to hide her blushing.

  “Lydia?”

  Finally, she lifted her chin to look at him.

  “Being with you has taught me a lot about myself.”

  She couldn’t find her voice.

  He cleared his throat and tapped his shoe against the floor to a nervous beat. “You’ve taught me to accept change.”

  “What do you mean?”

  After a slight hesitation, he spoke in a soft, gentle tone. “I’ve learned what it’s like to truly care about someone.”

  “John . . . I don’t think . . .”

  “Lydia, I’m going to ask your parents’ permission to court you.”

  It took a few moments for his statement to sink in. When she absorbed his unexpected words, she hugged her arms to her chest and closed her eyes. When she opened her lids, she drew in a breath that was a combination of excitement and surprise.

  “Oh, John!”

  “But before I talk to them, I wanted to make sure it’s what you’d like.”

  She clasped her palms together and breathed in. “I’d love nothing more than to court you, John King! But what about . . .”

  “Being Mennonite?”

  She nodded.

  “I had a very interesting conversation with Hannah this evening. And she made me think. Do you know that my grandmother on my mother’s side is Amish?”

  She looked at him to continue.

  “I admire the Amish faith. And if I’m allowed to court you, I plan to join the Plain Faith.”

  “Oh, John! You’ve made my second Christmas wish come true.”

  “There was a second wish?”

  “To spend more time with you. But I didn’t think it could happen.”

  He grinned. His eyes lightened. “Lydia, anything can happen when two Christian people care about each other. Merry Christmas, Lydia.”

  “Merry Christmas, John. You’ve made both my Christmas dreams come true.”

  Cinnamon Rolls

  DOUGH

  1 envelope fast-rising yeast

  ½ cup warm water

  ½ cup scalded whole milk, plus 1 tablespoon half-and-half

  ⅓ cup granulated sugar

  ⅓ cup real butter, salted

  1 egg

  3½ cups all-purpose flour, plus about 1 cup for kneading

  FILLING

  1 stick (½ cup) melted butter

  1 cup sugar (more, if needed)

  Ground cinnamon, as much as desired (I use 1 tablespoon)

  Heat oven to 350 degrees F.

  In one bowl, stir yeast in warm water and put to the side. In a second bowl stir milk, sugar, melted butter, and egg. Add about 2 cups of flour. Mix until smooth. Add dissolved yeast. Stir in remaining flour. Knead the dough mixture on floured surface for 8 or 9 minutes. Then place in buttered bowl. Cover, and let rise for a couple of hours or until doubled in size.

  Punch dough and roll out onto floured waxed paper. Spread melted butter over dough. Mix sugar and cinnamon and spread onto buttered dough. Slice the dough into straight lines and roll each piece up.

  Butter the bottom and sides of the baking pan. Place the rolled-up pieces close together in the pan and let rise until dough is doubled in size. Bake for about 30 minutes. Enjoy!

  Enjoy the following excerpt from Lisa Jones Baker’s next Amish romance, RACHEL’S DREAM.

  Chapter 1

  Her situation required immediate attention. In Old Sam’s barn, Rachel wrung her hands together and poured out her great fear of losing Cinnamon. She sat back in the chair opposite Sam’s workbench and let out a deep, impatient breath.

  While she awaited a response, the late May breeze floated in through the large open doors. Every once in a while, they creaked when the wind moved them.

  Rachel could hear Sam’s horse, Ginger, clomp her hooves as she stepped from her stall to the pasture. The pleasant scent of wood filled Sam’s work area. Birds chirped from the upper window by the hayloft.

  Finally, Old Sam met her gaze before carving into wood that would become another hope chest. The widower was well-known for his hope chests. Of course, many could put boards together, but his special talent lay in creating personalized etchings on the oak lids.

  His voice was thoughtful, serious. Rachel sat up straighter. “Young one, we never like to see our horses sick. I’m glad that Dr. Zimmerman’s coming tomorrow. I’ve heard he has a special knack for healing.”

  Sam gave a slow shake of his head. “Now, I know he’s fresh out of veterinary school. Tha
t would usually give me pause, but in my opinion, his youth works to his advantage. Not to mention that he was mentored by Doc Stevens. You know how word spreads quickly around here.”

  Rachel grinned, because what Sam mentioned was an understatement.

  “According to the Wagler family, this Doc Zimmerman is marvelous. There wasn’t much hope for Martha’s cat until Zimmerman treated him. Now he’s as good as new.”

  Rachel breathed in relief. She’d heard the young vet’s name, and much more. That Zimmerman was a blessing to the sick. And that he was as good as or better than the well-respected Doc Stevens, who’d gone to the Lord not long ago.

  “The good doctor has helped Rebecca’s and Annie’s horses.”

  Rachel knew that to be true. Rebecca Conrad and Annie Miller were friends. Rachel shared Old Sam with the two girls, who also took care of him. His wife, Esther, had been like a second mother to the trio. When she’d passed, Rebecca, Annie, and Rachel had returned that kindness to Old Sam Beachy.

  Now Rachel wasn’t sure what she would do without the widower. She went to him for his wise advice and to listen to his horse-and-buggy stories. Sam had made Rachel, Annie, and Rebecca very special hope chests to store their private thoughts in. And inside Rachel’s was her dream.

  * * *

  Dr. Jarred Zimmerman took in the Standardbred. He squatted before the horse, and his heart nearly melted. With great tenderness and affection, he stroked the beautiful cinnamon-colored face.

  As he did so, the scent of fresh straw filled his nostrils. He swatted away a fly while the early June breeze cooled the inside of the Kauffmans’ barn in the country between Arthur and Arcola, Illinois. He glanced at the healthy filly that had been purchased to replace Cinnamon while he was down.

  Jarred stood and turned to the girl who’d introduced herself as Rachel. He motioned to the healthy animal. “What’s her name?”

  “Paula.”

  He lifted an amused brow. “Paula?”

  Rachel shrugged. “Yes, Doctor. Daddy bought her at the auction, and that was what they called her.”