The Christmas Cradle

by Charlotte Hubbard

  “Annie Mae Wagler and Nellie live next door,” Hannah was saying. “We’re all excited because Annie Mae’s expecting, too.”

  “It’s nice to see so many gals my own age,” Lena remarked as Annie Mae gripped her hand. “Come time to have a frolic for your baby, I’ll be stitching up diapers for you!”

  The young woman’s face bloomed with a smile as she adjusted her rimless glasses. “I’ll appreciate that because today Nurse Andy told me I’m going to have twins!”

  “Oh, my! You’ll need twice as much of everything,” Hannah gushed as she hugged Annie Mae’s shoulders.

  “Twice the patience and stamina, especially,” Nellie remarked. “If Annie Mae’s twins are anything like our little brothers, Josh and Joey, it’ll be a full-time job just keeping the roof on the house.”

  “Let’s hope your babies are girls rather than boys,” a young woman at the end of the table teased.

  “That’s Katie Zook,” Hannah said as she continued her introductions. “Her family runs the market—and that gal talking to Miriam is Katie’s mamm, Lydia. Beside Lydia is Nora’s mamm, Wilma Glick, who lives in the little house just south of Miriam and Ben. Do you see anybody else you’ve not met? A few gals couldn’t come tonight, but you’ll meet them at Nora and Luke’s wedding.”

  Lena sighed. “I’ll try to recall everybody’s name, but it seems that as the baby expands my memory contracts.”

  As everyone laughed with her, Lena felt better than she had since she’d left Bloomfield. She sensed that the women in this room would value her friendship and give her the advice she needed to raise her baby. By the time she’d eaten a piece of wonderfully moist apple cake and sipped a cup of warm cider, the diaper makers were clearing the scraps from their worktable. As Lydia Zook and Wilma Glick folded the little gowns and onesies, Nora was setting two large wrapped packages on the long table.

  “Time for you guests of honor to open your gifts now,” Nora announced.

  Lena’s mouth dropped. “But you’ve already made so many—”

  “Now what’d ya go and do that for?” Miriam protested as she gaped at the packages. “It’s not like this is my first baby.”

  “Jah, but how many bottles and bibs do you have at your place?” Mary Schrock teased. “The last babies you had are here amongst us, and one of them has a baby of her own!”

  Lena chuckled. She sensed it was a rare occasion when Miriam’s friends could take her by surprise.

  “You go first, missy,” Miriam said, gesturing toward the bundle with Lena’s name on it.

  Lena’s heart overflowed with gratitude. When she popped the wrapping paper’s seam, Lena let out a gasp. “It’s a carrier basket! And it’s full of stuff!”

  Miriam then ripped the paper from her package, an identical basket for taking a newborn places. “Stuff indeed!” she said. “My word, here’s a diaper pail and ointment for rashy bottoms—”

  “And baby shampoo and powder, and wee little socks!” Lena chimed in as she held up the items from her basket.

  Miriam giggled as she grabbed a fleecy stuffed lamb and a crocheted pig. “Why do I suspect you made these, Mary Schrock?”

  The lady who owned the quilting shop shrugged. “Maybe because I still like to play with toys?”

  Once again laughter rose around her, and Lena’s heart swelled. When she and Miriam had thanked everyone, Nora offered the three of them a ride home in her van. A warm feeling wrapped around Lena like a cuddly afghan as they rode the short distance to the Hooleys’ home with Savilla.

  “We’ll get Ben and Josiah to carry all these gifts inside,” Miriam said as Nora pulled up into the lane. “And once again, Nora, we thank ya from the bottom of our hearts. That was mighty nice of ya to have everybody over when you’re busy gettin’ ready for your wedding.”

  “You have no idea how much this evening meant to me,” Lena murmured.

  “I had a great time, too,” Savilla said. “It was a chance to get acquainted with the women who live here.”

  Nora beamed at them as she shut off the engine. “That’s what I was hoping for. One of the things I missed most when I was living English were the frolics Plain women have,” she said. “It’s even more fun to hostess one than it is to attend, so I’ll have more of them. It feels good to fill my house with laughter and friends!”

  Isn’t that a wonderful thought? Lena mused as she entered Miriam’s kitchen. Someday I want to fill my house with laughter and friends, too!

  Chapter Eight

  For Ben, carrying a loaded baby basket in each hand was the easiest part of the evening. The three women’s bright eyes told him they’d had a wonderful time at Nora’s, and he hated to spoil their buoyant mood. A few things needed to be said, however, because Lena would soon realize something was amiss.

  “It seems Josiah has left again,” he began with a rueful smile. “His horse and wagon are gone—but some of his clothes are still here.”

  Lena’s smile withered. “I wanted to show him the nice baby things we got,” she murmured. “I figured he’d feel better about the wee one coming, now that we’ve got the basic necessities.”

  “And why would he leave without saying something?” Savilla pondered aloud. “I thought we were ready to start preparations for the wedding buffet—which I will not cater by myself,” she added emphatically.

  “Maybe he’s gone to speak with Hiram,” Miriam remarked.

  “Or maybe he wanted more cooking utensils from your house in Iowa,” Lena said as they hung up their coats.

  Ben listened to them making reasonable excuses for Josiah’s behavior. Truth be told, he found the kid’s second disappearance in a week a sign that he’d leave again in the future—probably when Lena or Savilla needed him most. “Lena, have ya thought about what comes next for you and the baby if ya don’t marry Josiah?” he asked gently.

  “It’s not like he’s asked me,” the girl blurted out. “Everybody assumes we’ll marry, but I wonder if that’ll happen.” She sighed loudly. “I’ve been crazy in love with Josiah since we were kids, but maybe that’s the crazy part. Maybe we were too young to know any better and I need to move on without him.”

  “Josiah’s never had feelings for anybody but you, Lena,” Savilla insisted. “But he has a lot of growing up to do.”

  “Could be he’s in Bloomfield, speakin’ with your parents,” Miriam said. “Now that he’s cookin’ for Luke and Nora’s wedding, I want to believe he’s lookin’ toward the future—for you and for his caterin’ business, as well.”

  Ben sensed his wife was trying to keep Lena from getting upset. She’d offered him a useful thread of conversation, however. “Josiah might be tellin’ your folks where the three of ya have landed,” he suggested. “Could be he’s—”

  “Emory and Dorcas Esh have nothing to say to Josiah,” Lena declared wearily. “They warned me time and again that he wasn’t dependable, and—much as I hate to say it—maybe they’re right. It’s late. I’m going to bed.”

  When Savilla had followed Lena back into the dawdi haus, Ben shook his head. “Wish I saw a solution to the fix that girl’s in. I hated to rain on her parade when she was lookin’ so happy.”

  “At least we know her parents’ names now,” Miriam pointed out. “I’ll ask Rebecca to look up Emory Esh’s phone number on her computer. I can’t imagine how worried her mamm must be—and I can’t believe Dorcas is as hard-hearted as Lena’s lettin’ on, either.”

  Ben smiled. “Lena’s folks watched that boy grow up, so they probably had him pegged as a drifter early on. That’s why I want you to write out a business agreement, if he and his sister take on a shift in your café.”

  Miriam went to the sink and ran a glass of cold water. “Jah, that makes a lot of sense. Especially when he didn’t even tell Savilla he was leavin’, right before their big caterin’ date.”

  As he hugged her from behind, Ben prayed for words that would lift Miriam’s spirits. She had so much on her mind, with a baby coming and a b
ig decision to make about running her business—not to mention the two kids who’d landed on their doorstep about to have a baby of their own. Ben held her gently, inhaling the clean scent he’d always found so appealing, so Miriam.

  She turned in his arms. When she rested her head on his shoulder, Ben savored the closeness of this moment as the baby shifted inside her. He glanced at the two baskets on the table and got an idea. “Sit down and finish that glass of water, honey-girl. I’ve got a present for ya.”

  When her eyes sparkled with curiosity, Ben was grateful that inspiration had struck. His pulse thrummed as he grabbed his coat and jogged out to the barn. The scents of horses and manure greeted him as he hurried between the buggies and the animals in their stalls. He took the cradle he’d made from its hiding spot in the empty back stall, brushing away the clean hay. Miriam deserved a gift every day, so why wait for Christmas? Giving her presents and watching her excitement when she received them had become a special joy in his life.

  Ben loped across the snowy yard with the cradle in his arms. He wrapped his coat around it so Miriam would have a few moments of anticipation. She was sitting at the table, watching him as he came inside. Ben stood in the doorway, breathing deeply. He hadn’t thought about what he’d say, and he wanted to make this a special moment.

  “I—I made this for ya, honey-bug,” he murmured. “I want ya to have it now, rather than waitin’ for Christmas.”

  Miriam’s bright eyes followed his every move as he approached with his gift concealed in his coat. “It’s not wigglin’, so it must not be a foal or a calf.”

  “You’re right.” Ben set his bundle on the table in front of her. “And as ya can see, I took special pains to wrap it for ya.”

  Miriam’s laughter made his heart dance. When her finger found a wooden rocker and the bulky bundle began to move, her face lit up. “Oh, Bennie,” she exclaimed as she yanked his coat away, “ya made the baby a cradle! And what a cradle it is, too! Such glossy wood and—and a hummingbird on the top of it!”

  Miriam stood up to run her hands over the wood Ben had sanded and stained so many times to get it perfectly smooth and flawless. Tears came to her eyes as her fingertips traced the outline of the hummingbird poised in front of a morning glory, which he’d fashioned from pewter at his forge. At this precious moment, Ben knew that every painstaking hour he’d spent getting the bird, the blossom, and the curving vines just right had been worth his effort.

  “I’m glad ya like it, Miriam,” he murmured. “I figured a lot of folks would be givin’ ya baby things but that this would be something—”

  “Only you could give me,” she whispered. “A gift from your hands and your heart. Bennie, I love ya so much I can’t put it into words.”

  When Miriam embraced him, he felt the deepest sweetness—feelings he’d never known were possible before he’d married this woman on New Year’s Day. “Have we ever really needed words?” he murmured against her ear. “From the moment I met ya, I knew you’d understand me like nobody else ever had. That’s why I can never do enough to show ya how much I love ya.”

  “Denki from the bottom of my ever-lovin’ heart.” She squeezed him tighter and kissed the side of his face. “This baby we’ve made has the best dat in the world.”

  Ben closed his eyes as his soul overflowed with gladness. Not all that long ago he’d been wandering the countryside in his farrier wagon, a man without roots or a purpose. Miriam had changed that—had made him the man he was now. “I’m so blessed to have you,” he murmured.

  “You’re a blessing,” she insisted. Miriam gazed into his eyes. “I’ve been thinkin’ on what ya said, about me lettin’ go of the Sweet Seasons to be a wife and a mother. I’ll work it out, but I’m not quite there yet.”

  “I know you’ll do what’s best for all of us.”

  Miriam nodded, once again running a finger over the wooden cradle. “I’m ready to call it a day. We’ve got to get up and around for church in the morning.”

  “I’ll be upstairs in a bit.”

  Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies. As Ben watched Miriam start up the stairway, he savored the passage of Scripture that came to mind whenever he thought of her. The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her. She will do him good, and not evil, all the days of her life.

  “Denki, Lord,” he murmured, for sometimes it just seemed right to pray aloud. “I couldn’t have found Miriam without Your help.”

  Lena’s attention wandered on Sunday morning. Bishop Vernon Gingerich was preaching, and his sermon about stewardship and giving back to the Lord in this season of thanksgiving seemed pointless. Hadn’t she already sacrificed everything to be with Josiah? Her back ached something awful and her eyes stung from crying all night. She just wanted to curl up somewhere quiet and sleep.

  “You okay, Lena?” Savilla whispered.

  Was it a sin to say she was all right when nothing felt right? “Exhausted,” she murmured. At least that part was true.

  “Let’s head back to the house after church instead of staying for the common meal. I’m in no mood for chitchat today.”

  Once again Lena wondered where Josiah had gone and why he hadn’t told his sister. Why would he have left Willow Ridge when it was nearly dark? The drive to Bloomfield took hours, and the roads weren’t the best even in full daylight. Or, if he’d gone to Higher Ground, why hadn’t he returned? These questions had pestered Lena all night, and she was very tired of Josiah’s disappearing acts.

  “As we enter into God’s gates with thanksgiving and into His courts with praise,” Bishop Vernon paraphrased a favorite psalm, “let’s take our neighbor along with us. Let’s be sure none are left behind, or left out of God’s bounty because we’ve not seen to their needs. We’re His hands and feet on this earth, a direct extension of His love for all mankind, and we’re to share what the gut Lord has blessed us with.” He gazed at the roomful of people with blue eyes that sparkled above his full white beard. “Let’s practice what we preach—what we believe—as we prepare to celebrate Thanksgiving with our families next week.”

  Unable to sit on the hard wooden pew any longer, Lena rose as the congregation prepared to sing the final hymn. After sidling past the other young women’s knees, Lena headed toward the bathroom in the side hallway. Her head was pounding and she was so hungry she couldn’t see straight as she entered the bathroom—

  “Sorry!” Lena blurted out. The door had been ajar, but a young woman was preparing to change her baby. “I’ll wait outside—”

  “If you’d hold Emmanuel while I get out a diaper and the ointment, I’d be grateful,” she said. “He’s been fussy with tummy troubles, so I thought he’d feel better if I cleaned him up. I’m Mary Kauffman, by the way.”

  “I—I’m Lena Esh,” she replied as she gingerly accepted Mary’s pudgy son.

  “Ah, the new gal living with the Hooleys,” Mary replied with a smile. “I stayed home from Nora’s yesterday tending this sick boy. It’s gut to meet you, Lena. How’re you doing?”

  As a distinctive odor drifted out of Emmanuel’s pants, Lena turned her head to breathe fresher air. “Hanging on for another month until this baby’s born,” she murmured. It was hard to talk while she was holding her breath and trying to keep the boy in her arms from squirming loose. He screwed up his face and started crying.

  How am I supposed to quiet him when I don’t dare squeeze him any tighter—don’t want to breathe—

  “Here we go, Emmanuel,” Mary said as she reached for him.

  The small bathroom rang with the boy’s cries. Lena wanted to bolt—except she needed to watch someone change a baby’s diaper. Her sisters had moved away when they’d married, so as the youngest child, she’d spent little time around babies.

  As Mary fastened the changing table’s strap around her son, he wailed louder. Lena looked on helplessly, watching Mary unpin the sides of a cloth diaper like the ones she’d received at the frolic. When Mary lifted the soiled
diaper out from under her son, however, the stench made Lena pivot to vomit violently into the toilet. Sweat bathed her forehead as she clutched her bulging belly.

  “I’m so sorry,” Mary murmured. “I probably should’ve kept him home, but—”

  Lena pressed the flush lever and rushed into the hall. Her head was reeling as she made her way into the mudroom off the back of the kitchen. She took deep, gulping breaths of the cooler air, willing herself not to vomit again. As she looked out the windows at the overcast morning, her thoughts seemed as bleak as the gray sky.

  What if the smell of my baby’s dirty diapers makes me throw up? What if I jab him with the pins or—I’m going to be the poorest excuse for a mother there ever was, and now everyone will know it because Mary will tell them.

  Lena hung her head, wondering if she’d ever run out of tears. When people heard how she’d made Emmanuel cry, they would know how ill-prepared she was to be a mother, and she’d be humiliated yet again.

  “Hey there, Lena. Let’s head back to Miriam’s. I’ve told her we’re leaving so she won’t worry about you.”

  Lena turned to smile weakly. “I’m glad you’re here, Savilla. I just got really sick when Mary Kauffman was changing her baby, and I’m not sure I could make it back to the house by myself.”

  Josiah’s sister grimaced. “Diapers can get pretty nasty, they tell me. I don’t know much about that, and I’m not sure I want to find out!”

  As they found their coats from among the other black wraps piled in the back bedroom, Lena was glad the embroidered initials inside the collars served as identification. Why couldn’t everything in life be so simple and clear-cut? It was a comfort to hear Savilla admit she wasn’t eager for motherhood, yet this confession rubbed salt into Lena’s emotional wounds. Savilla still had a choice about having children, while Lena had given that up—with so many other things—the moment she’d surrendered to Josiah.