An Amish Christmas Wedding

by Amy Clipston

  “Mamm made gingerbread cookies, and then I helped her decorate them. I remember standing on a stool in front of this counter, putting little raisins into the still warm dough so the gingerbread people would have eyes.”

  “Special memories.”

  “Indeed.” Rachel turned in a circle, a smile playing across her lips. “She’d spread pine boughs in the windowsills, then set a small candle in the midst of them.”

  “Battery powered?”

  “Of course. Mamm always had an eye out for fire hazards. Dat said we’d break him with the cost of batteries, but then he’d laugh and say the place looked nice.”

  Rachel’s gaze seemed to reach far beyond the room they were standing in, into the past, to pull forth sweet memories.

  “We’d have one for every window. I’d help Mamm pull out the box where we kept them . . . I knew Christmas was close when we’d unbox them and check each battery, dust off each one, and set them carefully in the center of the windows.”

  “Seems to me it’s the small traditions that matter so much as we get older.”

  “We’d make paper chains from bright construction paper and decorate the table for Christmas dinner.” She laughed at the memory. “Our gifts were always wrapped in plain brown paper, but Mamm would tie bright hair ribbons around mine. I used them for bookmarks.”

  “Sounds to me like you had a gut childhood.”

  “You know what? I did.”

  As they walked toward the front door, Rachel pulled her gloves out of her coat pocket. She slipped her hands inside them, wriggling her fingers just so. She laughed again when she saw him looking at the holes revealing her index fingers. “I’ve been meaning to mend these, but then I forget about it as soon as I take them off.”

  They spoke of her upcoming trip to Berne as they traveled the short distance to the schoolhouse. Micah wished there was a longer route to get there. He wasn’t ready to share Rachel with a room full of people.

  “Are you looking forward to your trip?”

  “Ya. But I’ve never traveled during the holiday before. To tell you the truth, I’ve never traveled at all.”

  “You’ll enjoy the ride to Berne. It’s only a few hours, and since you switch buses in Fort Wayne, you’ll have a chance to stretch your legs.”

  “The thought of meeting so many new people, all related to me . . . Well, it’s one of the best gifts I could receive. It’s a real Christmas gift.”

  “Indeed. Family is a blessing.”

  They’d pulled into the yard of the schoolhouse, already filling up with buggies. Rachel stayed his hand when he made to open the door.

  “It occurs to me that I have you to thank for this—for bringing Savannah and me together.”

  “What did I do?”

  “If you hadn’t started the Amish Tour Company, if you hadn’t allowed me to be a part of it, she might never have found me.”

  “You give me too much credit.”

  “I don’t think so. Danki for the Christmas gift I’ll never forget.”

  He almost asked her to marry him then, with her face turned toward his and a smile on her lips. But suddenly little hands were knocking against his buggy and they were surrounded by grandkinner.

  The schoolroom was filled to capacity. With the stove throwing off heat and friends and family pressed in around, it was easy enough to forget the cold, wintry night outside.

  But it was the look of delight in Rachel’s eyes that captured Micah’s attention. He caught her staring at the paper-chain garland made out of brightly colored construction paper, then stepped closer so he could whisper, “Like from your childhood.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking.”

  “Did you make paper snowflakes too?”

  “Only at school.”

  The children sang carols, read the Christmas story, and performed a short play about the Christ child and the wise men—only these wise men had a sheepdog instead of a camel. Micah and Rachel exchanged a look, and he knew she was thinking of Chloe and how Micah had shown up at her front door with the pitiful-looking dog. It seemed that Chloe had marked the beginning of something new for Rachel, and it occurred to him that Naomi might have been right. Perhaps Old Christmas would be just the time for him and Rachel to begin spending their lives together.

  * * *

  Rachel was pleasantly surprised when Micah’s two youngest granddaughters, Melinda and Nancy, threw their arms around her legs. The girls were in first and second grade, but they could have easily passed for twins—blond hair, blue eyes, and a smattering of freckles.

  “You came.”

  “We knew you would.”

  “We hoped you would.”

  “Did you see me rocking the baby Jesus? It was only a doll.”

  “And did you like my poem?”

  Rachel returned their hugs. “You both did a fine job. Are you excited about Christmas?”

  “I asked for a new doll.”

  “I asked for a book.”

  “In the morning we each get to read a part of the Christmas story.”

  “Are you going to be there, to read with us?”

  “Nein. I’m going on a trip.” Rachel’s heart twisted at the look of disappointment on their faces. No doubt they missed their grandmother—or rather they missed having a grandmother around. Naomi’s parents lived in Ohio and visited Shipshe in the summer. Micah’s wife had passed when the girls were quite young.

  “We were hoping you’d spend the day with us.”

  “I would have liked that very much.” She squatted so she could look them directly in the eyes. “I’m afraid I can’t, though. I’m going to visit my cousin.”

  “She’s your family?”

  “Ya.” A lump formed in her throat. She swallowed past it and pulled in a deep breath. “She is.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Savannah.”

  “That’s pretty, but we’re going to miss you.”

  “Ya, we’re going to miss you.”

  Both girls snuggled in close and threw their arms around Rachel’s neck. She smelled in the goodness of them—the innocence. Did such qualities have a scent? She thought maybe they did. Standing, she turned them toward the back of the room. “I believe I heard someone is serving cookies and punch.”

  Which was all the girls needed to peel off and join their friends.

  While visiting with her own friends and neighbors, Rachel found herself scanning the room for Micah. When she found him, he winked and smiled—almost as if he somehow knew she’d been looking for him.

  Rachel enjoyed a cup of punch as she congratulated the teacher on a fine Christmas program and then answered Naomi’s questions about her trip.

  “Micah mentioned you found some letters.”

  “Ya, that my mamm wrote. I think she planned to send them someday, although perhaps she simply wrote them to ease the pain in her heart.”

  “But they were to her schweschder, your cousin’s mamm?”

  “They were. I’ve wrapped them, and I’m giving them to Savannah for Christmas.”

  “What a perfect gift.” Naomi reached out and squeezed her arm. “We’re so happy you’re having this time with your family, but we’ll miss you at Christmas dinner.”

  “Danki.” Rachel had always thought Micah’s family merely tolerated her presence at the occasional dinner, but with a start, she realized they actually liked her. Why did that surprise her so much?

  Micah took the long way back to her house, and the scene outside her window was like something from an Englisch fairy tale. Snow covered the fields. Streetlights glowed softly. Bright Christmas displays decorated Englisch yards, and candles shone from Amish windows.

  When they reached her house, Micah said, “Before you go in, I need to ask you something . . . although I know you leave tomorrow and probably have things to do.”

  “I do have a lot on my mind. Mainly I’m worried about Chloe. And Penny, too, but Chloe is more used to my company.”

 
“Both your dog and your horse will be fine. I’ll check on them every morning.”

  “And Josiah said he’d walk the dog in the evenings, or at least let her out to run as he cares for the horse.”

  “It’s only for a few days.”

  “Ya.” Her heart fluttered at the idea of being away from home. Why had she felt trapped there for so long? Looking at her snug little house from Micah’s buggy, she realized she would miss the place if . . .

  “I should tell you something.” She wanted to stare at her hands or pretend to look for something in her purse, but she owed Micah more than that. She raised her eyes to his. “I’ve spoken to Josiah about selling to him after all.”

  “Your fields?”

  “And the house.”

  “Oh.” He looked about to say more but ran his fingers through his beard instead.

  “That’s not all. It’s early yet, and I haven’t made a decision, but Savannah has suggested I move to Berne. She’s invited me to live with her and her husband.”

  “Move?” Now Micah’s eyes widened as if she’d said she was relocating to Indianapolis.

  “There’s an Amish community there now.” She paused for a moment, searching for the right words. “I should have mentioned this when we spoke about spending Old Christmas together, but I didn’t know how to bring it up without spoiling the moment. Of course, a move wouldn’t happen right away. These things take time.”

  Micah stared out the window for a moment, suddenly more serious than she’d ever seen him, except perhaps when he’d first brought her Chloe. Then he shook his head, as if he could dispel whatever worried him, and turned back toward her, smiling once again. “Then I’ll pray that you’ll know Gotte’s wille for your life, Rachel, and that if Berne is where you’re supposed to be, your path there will be smooth.”

  She started to say how much she would miss him. Hadn’t he just kissed her in her sitting room? But kissing was one thing. Marrying was another. Micah hadn’t asked her to marry him, hadn’t really hinted at such a thing. And if the last few years had taught her anything, it was that people should live the life they had, not the life they wished for.

  “You wanted to ask me something?”

  “It can wait. I shouldn’t keep you any longer.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I am.”

  “Now I’m going to wonder what it was about.”

  “At least you’ll be thinking of me.”

  Leaning over, she kissed him on the cheek. “Danki. For everything.” Tears stinging her eyes, she hurried up the porch steps and into the house. She would miss him—of course she would. But for the first time since her parents passed, she was looking forward to the holidays. She wouldn’t be depending on the kindness of friends. She’d be with family, and that meant more to her than she could even explain to herself.

  So instead of dwelling on how much she’d miss Micah, she spent an extra few minutes brushing Chloe, then readied for bed before sinking beneath the covers. She’d worried that she’d be too excited to sleep. But as she said her evening prayers, she did something she hadn’t done in a long time. Somewhere between asking Gotte to watch over Chloe and thanking him for Micah, she began to drift off, much like a child falling asleep in her father’s arms.

  7

  Rachel kept in touch by phone with both Josiah, who assured her the farm was fine, and Micah, who insisted that he, Chloe, and Penny missed her terribly but were somehow managing.

  She’d called Micah the first night she arrived in Berne, ostensibly to let him know she’d arrived safely. In truth, she simply needed to hear his voice, needed that connection with home.

  “Still snowing here,” Micah reported when he returned her call after hearing her voice mail message.

  “Is it now? There’s no snow in Berne, though they said an inch fell last week.”

  “And you’ve met the entire family?”

  “Only Savannah and her mann so far. They’re awfully nice.”

  “Are they, now?”

  “But different.” She glanced around the guest room she was staying in. “I’ve never stayed anywhere with electricity.”

  “Well, they are Mennonite, not Amish.”

  “True, and it’s not as different as you’d think.”

  But it was different, and just talking with Micah helped settle her nerves. Over the next few days, she grew accustomed to the electricity and television—though the TV was rarely on—and even Savannah’s car. It was indeed more convenient than a horse and buggy. But Rachel found herself missing the farm and Chloe and even her mare. Although she’d often grumbled about the chores associated with Penny—the ones she managed without Josiah—she realized now that they helped keep her physically fit.

  She was surprised by how much she missed Micah. Perhaps she hadn’t admitted, even to herself, how much he meant to her.

  Each evening she looked forward to their phone call.

  “Must be awfully cold, sitting in that phone shack.”

  “Oh ya. I think I have frostbite.”

  “You’re teasing me, but it must be inconvenient.”

  “It’s just at the end of our lane. Besides, you’re worth any inconvenience.”

  A silence settled over the phone call, one full of possibility and promise. Could a silence hold those things?

  She proceeded to tell him about visiting a local shopping mall, seeing a production of The Nutcracker, and eating at a local steak house.

  “Fancy?”

  “It was. I felt a little out of place in my Plain clothes, but the steak was delicious.”

  “They’re spoiling you.”

  “It’s true.”

  “I miss you.” The suddenness of his confession caught her off guard, that and the earnestness in his voice.

  “I miss you, too, Micah.”

  She hung up the phone that night realizing she’d never before felt what she felt for Micah. She didn’t know if it was love—though she hadn’t minded that kiss—but she did know she was grateful he was in her life. The question was where they would go from here.

  * * *

  Rachel stayed in Berne longer than she’d planned, the visit both wonderful and memorable. And even though it was exhausting at the same time, she could hardly wait to visit Savannah again.

  But she was also eager to be home.

  Since she’d never been away from her hometown before, she’d never had the joy of returning. She had the urge to press her nose to the window of the bus as it drew closer to Shipshe. So many familiar sites—Howe’s, the Auction and Flea Market, Yoder’s, and finally the Davis Mercantile. Before she knew it they were pulling into the station, actually just a drop-off site in the middle of town. It was late on Monday afternoon, and she spied Micah standing outside, holding two paper cups with steam rising from the slits in the lids.

  His eyes sought hers, and she felt her pulse jump.

  She’d missed him terribly.

  She’d also missed the white Labrador waiting patiently at his side.

  Their reunion was a flurry of hugs, barks, and laughter. Finally, Micah pushed both cups—and now she could smell hot chocolate—into her hands. “Hold these while I fetch your bag.”

  “There’s a box too. Savannah insisted on sending tea cakes for the tour tomorrow so I wouldn’t have to bake late into the night.”

  He returned with the box under his left arm, her suitcase in his left hand, and with his right, he steered her toward his buggy.

  “Tell me all about your visit.”

  “We talked every night. And no matter what you say, you must have frozen sitting in the phone shack.”

  “I enjoyed those talks.”

  “As did I, but as far as my visit, I think I’ve already told you everything.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t.”

  So she went back over it. Savannah’s children, grandchildren, and husband. The evenings spent sharing stories, knitting together the two families that had been torn apart. How she
’d enjoyed their worship service. How Christmas morning was a flurry of gifts and carols and reading of the Christ child’s birth.

  “So much of what we do is the same,” she told him.

  “When you say we, you mean . . .”

  “Amish and Mennonites. I suppose it’s the same with many Englischers as well. Our faith is centered around the Christ child, so at Christmas in particular, the ways we differ seem unimportant. What we have in common far exceeds our differences.”

  “Ya, it’s true.” Micah reached over and squeezed her hand. “Though I hope you’re not thinking of converting.”

  “Nein. I’m happy with my Plain life.”

  Her mind brushed back over the last ten days and what it had meant to reconnect with Savannah. “The visit also helped me in other ways. Helped me put some things in perspective.”

  “How so?”

  “Being around other family helped me truly understand the value of relatives. We’re family no matter what our choices in life might be, and we’ll always be family. After reading my mamm’s letters, I think she realized that in the end. Savannah’s kinner are all grown and have families of their own now. But as Mennonites, they’re all still Plain in many ways. It’s so obvious how much they value their family and faith.”

  “Not something the Amish have cornered.”

  “Certainly not. I’m saying this badly, though. What I mean is, it makes a world of difference to know I have family in Berne, relatives I can visit or call or write a letter to. It also made me realize the limitations of family, though. After all, they all have their own jobs and homes and activities there in Berne, and I have mine here.”

  “Unless you move to Berne. Then you’d have those things there.”

  Micah seemed to be waiting for her response, and she couldn’t blame him.

  She’d put off sharing her decision because she not only wanted to tell him in person but explain the why of it. And now was the time. The bus had arrived later than scheduled, and darkness was already falling. They had a tour the next day, then a day off for Old Christmas, and then three more days of tours. It would be a busy week. So she cleared her throat and cornered herself in the buggy.

  “Savannah and her family assured me they would love for me to live with them.”