The Christmas Cradle

by Charlotte Hubbard

  “Ya might wanna come open the door, Lena,” she called into the front room. “Josiah’s headin’ this way and he’s carryin’ something, well—interesting—wrapped in a blanket. Savilla’s with him, too.”

  Lena hurried toward the back door with Isaiah cradled in the crook of her arm and a relieved expression on her face. “Oh, I was imagining all the worst possible accidents,” she murmured. “They must’ve decided not to serve supper this evening.”

  “A wise decision, nasty as the road looks.” Miriam continued scrubbing potatoes and carrots for their supper, curious about Josiah’s bulky item. He looked terribly pleased with himself, so she hoped Lena would be receptive to whatever he was bringing in.

  “Oh, but it’s gut to see you, Josiah!” Lena blurted out as she held the door for him and Savilla. “You’ve been gone so long, I was beginning to—”

  When Josiah set his parcel down and gazed directly into Lena’s eyes, she stopped fussing. “We have a home!” he announced jubilantly. “And I brought you—and Isaiah—your Christmas gift a little early. Because I love you both.”

  Tears welled up in Miriam’s eyes, and she couldn’t have talked if she’d wanted to. Watching Lena throw her arm around him, and the way Josiah embraced her and his son, was sweet compensation for the times when Miriam had scolded him for being so self-absorbed. When the young couple kissed, Savilla glanced over their heads and gave Miriam a thumbs-up. Ben came in from the front room in time to witness the touching scene, and he lingered in the doorway so he wouldn’t interrupt it.

  When Josiah eased away, his dark eyes were shining. “Part of the reason we took so long was that Homer wanted to stop at Nora’s store,” he explained. “You and Savilla had it right! He and the gal who’s been cleaning for him are getting hitched. He bought the entire display of the Brennemans’ bedroom furniture—plus the sheets and quilt and braided rug that were with it—for her wedding present.”

  “Oh, my,” Miriam remarked. “I never figured Homer for such a spendy fellow. I’m sure Nora was happy he stopped by.”

  “Jah—but before Homer announced he was buying practically everything in sight, I spotted this,” Josiah went on. He kept his hands on the blanket for a moment, although the two pedestal legs and rollers were a sure giveaway as to what he’d selected.

  Miriam’s hand fluttered to her chest as she glanced over at Ben.

  “Merry Christmas, Lena,” the young man whispered as he slid the blanket aside.

  Lena inhaled deeply. “Oh, Josiah, that’s the prettiest cradle I’ve ever seen,” she said in a tight voice. She touched the side of the spindled bed, rocking it with her fingertips. “You must’ve spent a fortune for—”

  “Never mind about that,” Josiah insisted. “Isaiah can sleep in this bed for a gut long while. And—and I wanted the Hooleys to have their beautiful cradle for their own baby before it’s born.” He focused intently on Miriam and then smiled gratefully at Ben. “We owe you so much,” he murmured. “I can’t thank you enough for the way you’ve taken us in and put up with our spats.”

  Ben came over to put his arm around Miriam. “I’m happy the both of ya have come so far,” he said. “It was our pleasure to provide Isaiah his first bed, and we hope to be seein’ a lot of him—and all of ya—for years to come.”

  Savilla’s smile softened as she ran a hand over the glossy walnut cradle. “I hope you can forgive all the times I’ve nagged at you, as well, Josiah,” she murmured. “This would’ve been a proud moment for Mammi and Dawdi—and our parents, too. I think they’re smiling down at you from Heaven, little brother.”

  For a long, sweet moment, the kitchen glowed in the light of the lamps. Miriam held her breath, watching as Lena placed her child in the new cradle and then rocked it. It was just the right height for her to lean over, and the mechanism functioned so smoothly and quietly that Isaiah must’ve felt as though he were floating from side to side on a cloud.

  After she gazed adoringly at her son, Lena looked up at Josiah. “So the farm purchase went the way you hoped? Did the money you got from the house in Bloomfield cover the new place?”

  Josiah beamed. “I had enough to cover the cost of the farm, but Derek—the loan officer—suggested I keep more back than I’d figured on, to cover expenses until our new café shift makes a reliable income,” he replied. “We’ll be able to make the small monthly payments with what we earn at the Sweet Seasons this winter, and when the farm’s crops come in, we’ll have the income from those as well. We can pay the loan off early if we want to, and I’m all for that.”

  “I don’t know what you’ve planned as far as getting someone to farm your cropland while ya run the café,” Ben said, “but Luke and Ira are looking for places to grow the specialty grains and popcorn they process at their mill. Or, if raising cage-free chickens and sellin’ the eggs interests ya, they can set ya up with the layin’ hens and facilities for that enterprise, too.”

  “Wow,” Josiah murmured. “Now that we’ve set things into motion, the surprises are piling up. I’ll talk to Luke about those ideas real soon.”

  “For those who love God, all things work together for gut,” Ben reminded them with a smile. “Nobody’s happier for ya than I am, kids. My prayers have been answered.”

  Miriam smiled and pulled Ben’s arms more firmly around her protruding girth. “Amen to that,” she murmured. “It’s been a blessed day all around.”

  In the wee hours of Christmas Eve morning, Miriam awoke with a gasp, clutching her belly as a sharp pain left her too breathless to speak. She’d slept fitfully—had spent the past few days on the sofa mostly—but she was determined not to fret and carry on. The last thing she wanted was for people to hover, or for Andy to put her in the hospital, so she’d kept wearing a brave face and forcing a smile whenever someone talked to her.

  Tell Ben you’re in labor. If you wait too long, you might not be able to get out of this bed, it hurts so bad.

  Miriam remained on her side, hugging herself as her husband snored lightly behind her. No sense in waking him and then rousting Andy at this hour. Do your deep breathing. Focus on the joy of holding your wee one at long last.

  A few moments later, when another pain made her cry out, however, Ben stirred. “You all right?” he murmured as he snuggled against her backside.

  To her horror, Miriam burst into tears. She was suddenly so overwhelmed with pain she nearly passed out.

  Ben sat up so he could peer at her face in the darkness. “Are your labor pains startin’? Shall I fetch Andy?”

  Hearing the apprehension in Ben’s dear voice, Miriam tried her best to say they could wait, but all that came out was another wail.

  “You stay right here where it’s warm, honey-girl,” he said as he scrambled out of bed. He fumbled in the darkness for his clothes, until Miriam managed to flip the switch of the battery lamp on her nightstand. “I’ll go fetch Andy. And I’ll tell Savilla and Lena ya need some help. Maybe some tea to soothe ya, or—well, Lena knows about these things.”

  He tenderly kissed her cheek. “Hang on, honey-girl. It’s gonna be a glorious day, and you’re gonna be just fine. I’ll take gut care of ya, so don’t worry about a thing.”

  As Ben hurried from the bedroom, Miriam shed fresh tears and clutched the edge of the mattress with another pain. She wanted to believe that her capable, competent husband could ensure that this momentous day would go smoothly, but deep down she sensed something was terribly wrong. Had more than twenty years erased the memory of her difficult labor with the triplets, or was she suffering a lot more pain than she’d endured back then?

  She was vaguely aware of rapid footsteps in the hall before Lena and Savilla entered the room. Both girls were in their nightgowns and robes, appearing earnestly concerned.

  “I’ll put the kettle on for tea,” Lena murmured as she placed a hand on Miriam’s forehead. “Oh, my, you’re awfully warm.”

  “What can I do?” Savilla asked. “Can I bring you some aspirin for th
e pain?”

  “Better wait until Andy looks her over before we give her anything,” Lena answered. “I’ll go fix that tea.”

  Nodding, Savilla gazed down at Miriam with a stricken expression. “You’re in a bad way, ain’t so?”

  Miriam nodded emphatically, embarrassed by her uncontrollable crying.

  “I’m so glad we’ve got a clinic just down the street—and here comes Andy’s medical wagon now,” she remarked. “The moon’s so bright on the fresh snow, it’s almost like daylight out there.”

  With what rational thought she could muster, Miriam thanked God that both Ben and Andy must be moving in high gear. Please, Lord, keep me and this baby safe, she prayed frantically. Give me the right words so I can tell Andy what’s wrong.

  She drifted on a haze of pain and impending unconsciousness, but she was aware of Andy coming in with his bag. His cold stethoscope and soothing voice helped her to stay mentally afloat, but she couldn’t miss the concerned furrow of his brow as he checked her over with his careful hands. The blood pressure cuff squeezed her arm mercilessly and then he removed it.

  “I know we were figuring on a home delivery, Miriam, but your blood pressure’s dangerously low. I’m calling an ambulance to take you to the hospital in New Haven.” He glanced at Ben and the girls as he pulled a cell phone from his pocket. “Pack her an overnight bag. Won’t take them long to get here, and they can stabilize her on the way over there.”

  Miriam swallowed her protest. Andy had been instructed by Bishop Tom to use that cell phone only in emergencies. Oh, but she’d counted on a peaceful home delivery, with Ben nearby and Andy in charge, where all would be as calm and bright as the scene from “Silent Night”. She trusted his instincts, however, and fought to stay lucid enough to tell the girls where to find her nightgowns and underthings. A siren wailed in the distance.

  Miriam clutched Ben’s hand as he stood beside the bed, looking scared and helpless. She forced herself to say something helpful, something that would give him a task to occupy his troubled mind. “Tell Rachel I’m countin’ on her,” she rasped as another pain grabbed her belly like a vise. “I want to picture her and—and Amelia as Mary and Baby Jesus tonight at the pageant. It’ll give me . . . somethin’ lovely to focus on.”

  “I’ll pass that along to your girls,” Savilla assured her. “That way Ben can concentrate on you at the hospital, and Rachel and Rebecca will know you want the live Nativity to go on, just like everyone’s been planning.”

  “Jah,” Miriam rasped. “I’ll be doin’ my work, and they’ll be . . . doin’ God’s work in the world.”

  As the siren blared in front of the house, Andy hurried downstairs. Soon hushed voices and several sets of footsteps echoed in the stairwell—or was her pain so severe that her head was getting all funny? The paramedics got right to work starting an IV as Andy explained to her and Ben that this would help her relax and relieve her pain. They wrapped her in warm blankets and gently eased her onto a stretcher, and somehow—miraculously—they bore her and the IV apparatus down the stairs without dropping her. She was vaguely aware that Josiah was holding the door open, and that Ben and Andy were climbing into the back of the ambulance with her as the paramedics shifted her onto a solid mattress.

  After a brief, wondrous sense of release, Miriam drifted into oblivion.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Ben sat in the hospital waiting room, gripping the arms of his chair so hard his hands throbbed. A wall-mounted TV flashed scenes of well-dressed people who chatted jovially about their plans for tonight and Christmas Day—about the toys that had been so popular this season that stores had run out of them and frantic English parents had searched online and paid outlandish prices to acquire them.

  But what did those things matter? In his mind, he still saw Miriam’s pale, slack face and a lot of hoses and tubes attached to her as masked hospital attendants wheeled her toward the operating room. Andy had donned his scrubs and a mask, too. Before he’d disappeared behind an ominous pair of stainless-steel doors, he’d reassured Ben that everything would be fine.

  But how could that be true? His Miriam knew how to have a baby without any such assistance. She’d been so calm and capable, so mentally ready to endure the long hours of labor—until she’d cried out with a pain that had terrified him even more than it had rendered her helpless. Something horrific surely must be wrong that Andy would check her over and so quickly summon emergency medical help.

  What if she never woke up? What if the cord had wrapped around the baby’s neck? What if the baby came out fine but his Miriam never recovered? How could he possibly raise a child without her? No, how can you possibly live without her?

  His frantic thoughts taunted him as the hands on the clock refused to move. Ben knew he should pray—should focus on the fact that God was in charge and that everything would go according to His will.

  But what if He calls Miriam home, thinking she belongs there now instead of with me?

  Ben propelled himself from the chair and began to pace the perimeter of the waiting area. He was grateful that no one else was there to witness his lack of faith, his desperation—even as he yearned for a reassuring word about Miriam’s progress, or for an angel to appear and tell him to fear not. That was the way angels talked in the Bible, but he was pretty sure he’d be even more terrified if one of them did show up. He would immediately assume that the angel had come to escort Miriam out of this life and into the next....

  “‘And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night,’” Teacher Alberta Zook read in a clear, ringing voice. “‘And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.’”

  As Lena gazed at the young shepherds in their costumes, she felt awestruck and totally caught up in the enchantment of the live Nativity. One little boy clutched a stuffed lamb while the older ones acted out the words, gazing into the sky and then covering their heads with their arms, fearful of that angel described in the Scripture. Dan Kanagy’s sheep bleated from their pen in Ben’s barn, while Bishop Tom’s Holstein cow and Lucy and Sol Brenneman’s miniature pony looked on from behind another section of fencing. The Brenneman kids’ border collie, Rowdy, was keeping watch over the livestock and the kids with bright, intelligent eyes.

  Above the barn, a spotlighted, sparkly star drifted peacefully in the night sky—another of Rebecca’s contributions to this simple yet amazing pageant. Lena could not imagine a more perfect evening, or a more enchanting rendition of Jesus’s birth as she rocked from side to side with a bundled Isaiah in her arms.

  “‘And the angel said unto them Fear not: for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people,’” Teacher Alberta continued jubilantly. “‘For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.’”

  As the children began to sing “Silent Night,” joined by everyone in the growing crowd of onlookers, Lena gazed up at Josiah. “This is nothing like I’ve ever seen,” she murmured beneath the music. “There must be a couple of hundred people here! I wish Miriam and Ben could see how beautiful Rachel and little Amelia are, and how Micah’s standing so steadfastly beside them. I—I hope she’s all right,” she added with a catch in her voice. “I thought we would’ve heard something by now.”

  “Jah, me too,” Savilla said. “Surely the baby’s come by now, unless . . . well, I don’t want to think about something going seriously wrong.”

  Josiah slipped an arm around Lena’s shoulders and pulled his sister close, as well. “Could be there’s a message on the machine in the Sweet Seasons phone shanty. I’ll look when I go over to check my cookers.”

  Lena nodded as she and Savilla eased out of Josiah’s embrace. Along with the heartfelt singing and the children’s charming performance, the rich aromas of brisket, turkey, and pork loin drifted over the crowd from the café across the road. She’d agreed whole
heartedly when Josiah had offered to grill enough meat for the entire Hooley family’s meals for Christmas and Second Christmas as his gift to them. Savilla had prepared everyone’s favorite side dishes, as well, and had stored them in the café’s refrigerator to be taken home after the pageant tonight, along with packets of the meat. Lena had baked fresh cookies to go with the meals. She was glad everyone would spend Christmas Day in the proper prayerful meditation instead of in the kitchen.

  It would be so wonderful if Miriam, Ben, and the baby could be home for Christmas, Lena thought as she gazed at the faces around her. She felt an uplifting kinship with the people of Willow Ridge. As she joined in the singing of “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” she spotted Bishop Tom and his wife Nazareth standing alongside Nazareth’s sister Jerusalem and Bishop Vernon. Nora and Luke Hooley, Annie Mae and Adam Wagler, Gabe and Wilma Glick, and Naomi Brenneman and her sons were in the crowd, too, wedged among more English visitors than Lena could count. Rhoda and Rebecca beamed at Rachel and the kids from the sidelines.

  What an incredible six weeks it’s been since Ben insisted that you and Josiah stop squabbling, Lena thought with a satisfied smile. We’ve made so many friends who feel like family, and we’ve found a new home.

  As Teacher Alberta began “O Come, All Ye Faithful,” the back of Lena’s neck prickled so intensely that she gazed around the crowd again. Although folks were tightly bunched together, no one had touched her or—

  Lena’s mouth dropped open. At the edge of the crowd, coming up the Hooleys’ lane, she thought she saw a dearly familiar face. It was after dark, and Plain women looked a lot alike in their black winter coats and bonnets, but no one else resembled—

  “Mamm!” she cried, aware that everyone was staring at her. Josiah’s eyes widened as he gazed in the same direction she had, but Lena couldn’t stand still. Clutching Isaiah, grabbing Josiah’s hand, she squeezed between the people who were singing. Some of them looked mildly irritated that she was passing in front of them, interrupting their song, but Lena was too ecstatic to care. “Mamm, is it really you?” she called out.