An Amish Christmas Wedding

by Amy Clipston

  “You told me as much before you left.”

  Micah’s tone was neutral. It was plain that he didn’t want to influence her decision, and she loved him for that. Yes, she’d finally admitted to herself that she loved him. Being away from him for ten days had helped her understand how much she’d come to care for him. They weren’t youngies, and she didn’t even know if he felt the same way. She was no longer afraid of her feelings, though. Life was too short for that.

  Micah was still patiently waiting, so she began again.

  “I can’t tell you how much it means to me to have people who are my own flesh and blood. To have a connection, a living connection, to my parents.”

  Micah quickly glanced at her, then back at the road. Following his gaze, she noticed it looked as if it might snow any minute.

  “Until just now, I hadn’t realized how hard that must have been for you,” he said. “To think you were the last in your family.”

  “We’ll surely all be reunited one day, but it helps to have folks on this side of heaven.” Her heart had begun to beat faster. Chloe sighed heavily and gave her a look that seemed to say, Get on with it. So she did.

  “As much as I love my family, though, I’ve decided to stay in Shipshewana.”

  Micah’s expression broke into a wide grin. “Now, that’s the best news I’ve heard in some time.”

  “You thought I wouldn’t stay?”

  “I worried you might not, though if going was what you decided, I would have tried to be happy for you.”

  “This is my home.” They were nearly to her farm now. She knew every street corner, every field they’d passed. She had fond memories of her life here. She had more friends than she’d realized, and she had Micah. Why would she leave all that?

  “Of course, I’ll still want to visit Berne regularly. It’s a gut thing I like to knit, since I’m going to spend that much time on a bus. But my life is here.”

  Micah turned down her lane, and she was surprised to see candlelight coming from her sitting room window.

  “Chloe and I have a few surprises for you.”

  “Do you, now?”

  “I hope you don’t mind. The grandkinner helped too.”

  Besides the candlelight, Rachel couldn’t imagine what he was talking about. Then he led her up the porch steps, told her to wait, and hurried to the buggy to retrieve her suitcase and box.

  Setting them just inside the door, he then blocked her way and said, “You might want to close your eyes.”

  “Close my eyes?”

  “It’s better if you see it all at once.”

  “Okay.” She drew out the word. She’d thought Micah might have a Christmas gift for her. In Berne she’d knitted him a scarf out of the softest gray yarn she could find. But this . . . this was something different. She could tell from the way Chloe stared up at her and Micah waited that this was somehow bigger than simply a wrapped present.

  She closed her eyes and allowed him to lead her inside, then through the sitting room toward the kitchen. When he stopped, she knew they were standing in the doorway between the two rooms.

  “I think I smell . . . gingerbread.”

  “Do you, now?”

  “And pine . . . some sort of pine needles.”

  “You can open your eyes.”

  Slowly, Rachel did.

  She felt like it was the first time she’d really seen her home in many years.

  Chloe barked once, and Micah said something about Naomi and Tom buying Chloe a new bed. But she barely heard him. She was busy taking in the pine boughs in every window, accented with a single candle. Then she turned around and saw the same in her sitting room window. That’s what she’d seen from the road.

  Paper chains made from bright construction paper adorned the kitchen counters. On the table was a plate of freshly baked gingerbread cookies, and beside it a single long, thin box wrapped in brown paper and fastened with a bright-blue hair ribbon.

  “How . . . how did you do all this?”

  “I told you. I had help.” Micah led her to the table and pulled out a chair, and after she sat, he perched on the one next to her.

  Rachel pulled off her outer bonnet, still staring around in disbelief. “Everything is just like . . . just like my mamm used to do.”

  “I know. You told me.” Micah reached forward and tucked a stray strand of hair into her kapp, then allowed his fingers to linger on her cheek.

  “The grandkinner made the paper chains. My grandson Raymond helped me cut pine boughs and arrange them. Yoder’s had a sale on the candles.”

  “I can’t believe you did all this.”

  Micah’s eyes sparkled. “I was hoping you’d be pleased, and I wanted your homecoming to be special. Naomi and the girls made the cookies, and the gift . . .” He picked up the box and placed it in front of her. “The gift is from me.”

  “Oh. I have something for you too.” She hopped up and rummaged through her suitcase in the sitting room. Finally, she pulled out the scarf, carefully wrapped in tissue paper. It wasn’t much, but it was the best she had to give.

  * * *

  Micah wanted to tell Rachel her gift for him could wait, but when she returned and sat down, he understood from the way she peered at him, then glanced quickly away, that this meant a lot to her. The tradition of gift-giving was important—not in the quantity or cost of the gifts but in the sharing. He was only just beginning to grasp how much she’d missed out on in the last few years. He wouldn’t hurry her through this. Better to savor each moment.

  “For me?”

  “Ya. Of course it’s for you. Though, honestly, I made something for Chloe too. I think she can wait until tomorrow, though.”

  As if in answer, Chloe sighed and rolled over on her new bed.

  “I can’t think what I’ve done to deserve this.” He’d meant it as a joke, but Rachel’s expression was suddenly serious.

  “You saved me, Micah Miller. You literally saved me. I might have become a bitter, lonely old woman, but you opened up a new world to me. The tours you started saved me. When you brought strangers into my house, it’s as if you woke me from a long nap. And then to find my family . . . I can’t thank you enough.”

  She placed the gift in his hands. “But I wanted to try.”

  “Then I say danki.”

  “You haven’t opened it yet.”

  “I’m sure I’ll love it, though.”

  He pulled away the tissue paper, revealing a winter scarf that had been meticulously and lovingly knitted. “You did this?”

  “Ya, of course.”

  “You knit as well as you bake and quilt.” He wrapped the scarf around his neck and tossed the end of it over his shoulder.

  “How do I look?”

  “Warm.”

  He was trying to appear lighthearted, but in truth, the gift touched him to the core. He’d fully understood how much he cared for Rachel while she in Berne. He loved his family, and they loved him, but he wanted to live his life with the woman sitting next to him. While Rachel was away, the days had stretched out in front of him like long shadows.

  He reached for her hands and squeezed them. “Danki. For taking the time to make this for me, and for caring so much.”

  “Gem gschehne.”

  “Now open yours.”

  She pulled off the ribbon, first fingering it, then placing it carefully next to the package. “Blue is my favorite color.”

  “I guessed it might be.”

  “I’ll hold my place in my cookbook with it.”

  When she opened the box, a gasp escaped her lips. “Micah, you shouldn’t have. These are much too expensive.”

  “See if they fit.”

  She pulled one glove over her left hand, running the fingers of her right over the soft brown leather. “It’s a sin to be proud.”

  “Ya, but it’s not a sin to be warm. And these will last you many years.”

  “Indeed they will.”

  She pulled off the glove and s
et it gently in the box, then clasped her hands together on the table and looked around the room. Finally, she turned her gaze to his. “This has been a fine Christmas.”

  “For me as well.”

  “It’s gut to be home.”

  “It’s gut to have you home.”

  Micah scooted toward the edge of his chair and covered her hands with his. “I want to ask you something, Rachel.”

  “You do?” When she looked up at him, tears had pooled in her eyes. He knew that she knew, and yet the asking was important. This was a moment they would remember and cherish all their years together.

  “Will you marry me?”

  “Ya.”

  He pulled back in surprise, and she laughed.

  “You thought I’d say no?”

  “I thought I might have to talk you into it.”

  “But I love you. Why would you have to persuade me to live a life I’ve dreamed about for some time now?”

  He stood and pulled her into his arms, then lowered his face to her head, smelling the scent of her freshly laundered kapp and beneath that some kind of strawberry shampoo. She felt so good, so right in his arms, that he didn’t want to let her go.

  Rachel pulled back and gently placed both her hands on his face. “Do you love me, too, Micah?”

  “I do.” His voice was low and gruff, and he swallowed past the lump in his throat. Why did he feel the urge to cry? He was becoming a sentimental old fool, but perhaps there were worse things to become. “I do, Rachel.”

  She entwined her fingers with his and pulled him into the sitting room. When they sat down on the couch, Micah pulled her into the crook of his arm. They stayed that way for some time, the candles still shining in their nests of pine boughs and snow falling outside the window. She enjoyed the quiet and rightness of being together, and she knew Micah did too.

  For several minutes they spoke of nothing at all, and then well into the night, they spoke of the future they hoped to share.

  8

  If Micah had to choose a favorite holiday, it would without a doubt be Old Christmas. Perhaps because it reminded him of his parents and grandparents. Or maybe because it spoke of the real cost of giving things of immeasurable value—especially intangible things—since they were celebrating the gifts the wise men from long ago gave the Christ child.

  He was thinking about that just after waking on Wednesday morning. Then as he lay there in bed, stretching, he stared at the ceiling, marveling at how his life had changed over the last year.

  He thanked Gotte for his blessings, which were many.

  The Amish Tour Company had established itself as a gut business. Their tours earned much-needed income for Emily and Paul Yoder, Joseph Schrock, and the Beiler family—not to mention for him and Rachel. More than that, the tours provided Englischers a glimpse into a simpler world, one they could pursue in their own lives if they chose to. At the very least, their guests received a respite from the noisy and demanding world of their time.

  But Gotte’s blessings didn’t end there.

  Micah’s family was whole and healthy. Yes, he still missed Inez. She had been such an important part of his world for so many years. But he understood that she wanted him to live his life fully, and to do it with the help of people he cared about and people who cared about him. Rachel certainly was all that and more.

  And how he thanked Gotte for Rachel. She’d brought a youthfulness and tenderness to his life. She needed him, and he needed her. Weren’t most relationships based on that? There was real affection between them, and he found himself looking forward to the years that lay ahead rather than dreading them. He had a purpose—he would do what he could to make up for the loneliness of Rachel’s past years.

  As he stood to dress, he chuckled at the thought of the day ahead. It was Rachel’s idea to share their plans after the Old Christmas celebration.

  He walked downstairs and entered the kitchen, gratefully accepting the cup of coffee Naomi pushed into his hands. Coffee for the adults and milk for the children would be their breakfast, and then they would fast until the afternoon meal.

  “But why are we fasting?” Raymond dropped his head onto his hands. He’d recently turned ten yet had the appetite of a teenager.

  “It reminds us of Christ’s sacrifice.” Tom shared a smile with Naomi. The children often preferred the gift-giving and celebration of Christmas Day to Old Christmas.

  “This is the day the wise men brought gifts to the baby Jesus,” Melinda offered, her small hands clutched around her glass of milk.

  “I would have brought the baby Jesus a pacifier.” Nancy yawned, remembering at the last second to cover her mouth. “Jenny’s little schweschder has one, and every time she starts crying they stick it in her mouth. It works too.”

  The morning passed quietly. By noon they’d gathered in the sitting room to read from the family Bible. The verses, of course, were from the book of Matthew and focused on the visit from the magi. Tom could have read the story—it was his home and his children gathered around. But he didn’t. He passed the worn Bible to Micah and said, “Would you read for us?”

  “Ya. Of course.”

  Micah was again humbled that he had a valued place in this home. He wasn’t just an old thing everyone put up with. What had Rachel said? “Old things are valuable. We don’t throw away people or animals or things simply because they’ve aged.”

  So he took his time turning to the passage in Matthew, waited until he was sure everyone was listening, and then began to read. “After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem . . .”

  The poignant story stirred their hearts.

  King Herod’s inquiry.

  Following the star, then finding Mary and the Child. Bowing and worshiping the creator of all things. Offering their gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

  The warning that came in a dream.

  When Micah finished, he closed the book, resting his hand on the cover, so cracked and worn from many years of reading. The sitting room was full of his family, and for a moment no one moved or spoke, each imagining the wise men, their journey, and the gifts.

  Finally, Tom asked if anyone had questions.

  “You explained about the twelve days of Christmas the other day, but what’s myrrh again?” Nancy scrunched up her eyes. “Is that the spice Mamm uses in potatoes I don’t like?”

  Melinda hooked her arm through her sister’s. “I don’t get it either. Who wants frankincense for a Christmas present?”

  “Technically, I think it was a birthday present,” Raymond said. “I mean, they were celebrating his birth, right?”

  They spent the next few minutes discussing the details of the story. When he thought they were done, Melinda raised her hand as if she were in school.

  “Why is it called Old Christmas?” Melinda ran her fingers up and down her kapp strings. “I mean, the story is old, but . . .”

  Betty answered. She was holding baby Nathan, who had fallen asleep during the Bible reading. Adam sat next to her, an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “It’s called old because in 1582 Pope Gregory XIII decided to change the calendar.”

  “You can’t change a calendar,” Raymond said.

  “But he did.” All eyes turned toward Micah. “He wiped away ten days, eleven minutes, and fifteen seconds.”

  Nancy collapsed back onto the floor, giggling. “You can’t wipe away days . . . or minutes or seconds. Sometimes I want to, though. Especially during arithmetic class.”

  “So someone went to sleep on one day and woke up ten days later?” Raymond stared up at the ceiling, then added, “It would be terrible if your birthday was during those ten days.”

  They went on to speak of how the Christ child had changed the world, and how things were never the same after that—not even the calendar. By the time they’d finished, Naomi declared she could use some help in the kitchen, and for once she had more volunteers than she needed. “They
all want to help when they’re hungry.”

  “I can certainly lend a hand,” Micah said, but Tom pointed to the window.

  “Rachel’s here.”

  That put an end to any idea of helping in the kitchen. Raymond came outside with Micah to take care of her horse and buggy. The air had once again turned cold, and Micah wanted to get Rachel inside. The sky was gray, too, and he wouldn’t be surprised at more snow before evening.

  As they walked toward the house, he reached out and snagged Rachel’s hands.

  “Do you still want to do this today?”

  “If you do.”

  “I’d have done it Monday evening. Don’t be surprised if I put an announcement in the Budget.”

  Rachel cocked her head and studied him.

  “I’m a bit excited,” he admitted.

  “As am I.”

  “Then let’s go tell the family.”

  Everyone was gathered around the table. It was a crowded affair, but no one complained. Chairs were brought in from other rooms, and the children sat shoulder to shoulder on the long bench positioned on the far side of the table, next to the wall.

  After they’d silently prayed for their meal, Micah stood to get everyone’s attention.

  “Rachel and I have news.” He noticed Tom and Naomi exchanging a knowing glance. Well, it had been their idea to do something about a wedding on Old Christmas. “I’ve asked Rachel to be my fraa, and she’s agreed.”

  He wanted to say more, but suddenly everyone was talking and reaching to hug Rachel and declaring the new year to be a fine one. He waited for the general pandemonium to settle down before he added, “And she’d like to say something before you all dig into this awesome meal Naomi prepared.”

  All eyes turned to Rachel, and she took a big breath before speaking.

  “Only that I love you all, and danki for allowing me to be a part of your family. I know I can never replace Inez, and that is certainly not my intent. But Micah has become a treasured friend over the last year, and we care about each other very much.”

  Silence settled on Micah’s family until Nancy looked up with a smile. “Does this mean Rachel and Chloe will come to live with us?”