CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The Quilt and birth
The Bontrager’s and the Yoder’s sat in the William’s house to enjoy a Sunday roast. Emma bustled from the living room to the kitchen, her heart swelling with happiness because for the first time in a very long while, Sarah was sitting up in a chair, her hair combed neatly under her kapp, her clothes pressed and clean, her face serene and her eyes alert. She had even laughed at a joke Isaac had told and it had brightened the evening considerably.
Jarron had exchanged pleased glances with her. She knew he was just as worried about Sarah as she was. They were all pleased to see Sarah on the mend. Ruth was actually dancing with joy.
Daed watched his daughters with tenderness. These women of his world that owned a piece of his heart each were strong and left him in awe. There was Emma, his middle child, a girl of such wisdom. Her journey from doubts about the church and her inclusion in the faith, to her hardships with Eli’s illness and then demise, she had finally found happiness in a gut man. Now if only Gott would give them kinder of their own.
Sarah, his eldest, whose cry in the world had wrenched his heart open, humbling him to the amount of love he could feel for another person, leaving him in fear of its loss. She had been the perfect child, courted in her rumspringa by Jeramiah who was tall, handsome and strong. Married by twenty-one and gracing them with grosskinner by twenty-three. She had been a shining example for girls in the community and now look at her, fighting the rejection and desertion of her husband, dealing with his demise and now holding up the life of her unborn child at the risk of her own.
And Martha. High spirited, fickle Martha, who had given him the most worry. Running away at fifteen, getting engaged to an Englischer and staying away for years. Then she had come back like the prodigal son and taken up her place in the community as if she had never gone. But the community still remembered and it seldom forgave. Her chance at happiness was strangled by her own past.
Daed wished there was something he could do for his three daughters, to make their lives as perfect as they could be, but hardship was Gott’s way to test man, and without testing faith how would Gott know who deserved Heaven and who hell?
Martha brought the big package she had stowed in the buggy when they had left home this morning. She placed it on the polished table piquing everyone’s curiosity.
“I finished my quilt,” Martha said. She opened the box and pulled out a quilt of midnight blue and unfolded it.
The mosaic was done in intricate thread, the stitches small and delicate. There was a bent well-thumbed Bible like Daed’s in one corner and a wooden rosary like Mamm’s in another. A barn with an embroidered E on the side was very much like Eli’s barn and a shiny red truck like the one Jarron had owned by its side.
Emma’s nurturing famous hot chocolate was in one corner and Martha’s purple-pink hair under a lace kapp were in another. In the center of the colorful quilt was a cradle with a large S carved into it, two bent figures of children around the cradle and two doves sewed on top of the children.
Daed watched the perfect tribute to their family, done by his youngest daughter and marveled at how far she had come. It was a touching gesture that was received with an open heart by the entire family. He wished that things had been better for Martha and Jacob but as things stood they were not.
His faith taught him the price for the sin of pride but in that moment he indulged in pride. Fierce, burning pride in his daughters and the families they had made.
*
Lightning cracked like a whip in the torrential dark sky. Rain poured down like bullets against the glass windows. The wind howled, rattling the shutters as it sped past the house. Sarah lay in her cot, her eyes wide open, feeling the pulsing kick of her boppli. Isaac and Ruth were asleep in the room next to Emma and Jarron.
Lightning streaked across the sky and the kitchen was bathed in white light. Sarah’s belly quivered as another wave of pain hit her. The boppli was coming but Sarah could not move her legs, could not call out for help. She was terrified. She knew the coming of her boppli meant the end for her and though she had felt she could not live anymore, the evening dinner with her family had proven her wrong.
She wanted to see Isaac grow into a young man, to take over Daed’s barn and start a family of his own. She wanted to be there on Ruth’s wedding day, baking a large feast and then dancing on her old feet for her duchder’s happy day.
Most of all she wanted to see her new boppli and see Jeramiah in its tiny face, to see the love Jeramiah had once had for her pouring from her boppli’s eyes. She willed herself to sit up, clutching the edge of the cot for support. She pulled her feet out of bed with an effort and trudged on unsteady feet to the children’s room.
She bent over their tiny heads, their curls like unruly mops. She watched them for a while, then kissed their slumbering faces and left. She couldn’t let them find her in the cot. If she was going to die, she would do it in the only place she felt a deep connection with departed souls of loved ones.
Sarah was drenched to the bone the minute she stepped out of the backdoor. Her hair was matted to her forehead and her body shivered against the cold. Her unsteady, emaciated legs stumbled and she went sprawling in the mud. She lay like that for a few minutes, giving up but then a severe kick made her pull herself up again and make her agonizing way to the barn.
Eli’s barn. Eli had been a very important part of their lives. Kind and generous, he had always been a good listener and Sarah had felt he was one of her greatest friends. Now, she felt keenly that Eli was watching over her, like he did so often with Emma, that Eli knew her time was close and Gott had sent him to guide her across the great unknown.
The animals were huddled in their pens and looked at her with terrified eyes. The storm outside was raging and they were hoping for comfort from the only human face in their midst. Gritting her teeth against a stronger wave of pain, Sarah fell on her knees and knelt in the hay as if she were on her knees, praying.
She lay like that for hours, dozing off a little between spasms of pain that brought her back to consciousness. The storm was abating a little and Sarah heard someone crying her name. She looked towards the barn door that she had left ajar.
“Sarah!” Emma’s shrill voice ran through the night. “Sarah!” it came closer and then Emma was there, a lantern in her hand, her eyes wild with fear, her face and nightgown soaked as well. “Sarah, what happened? You scared me! What are you doing in here?”
“Boppli,” Sarah moaned, clutching her belly. Sarah knew something was wrong. This was unlike her previous births, the boppli’s relentless kicks made her feel her child was drowning in the womb. This had never happened before.
“The boppli’s coming?” Emma looked horrified. “I’ll call Jarron. We must take you to the English hospital!”
“There is no time,” Sarah moaned. “Ach, Emma! He’s coming right now,” Sarah stood up on her shaky feet and the warm gush on her legs told her that her water had broken. Emma was looking at her with horror. Sarah was puzzled by her reaction. Emma had been there when Ruth had been born. She had seen the water break.
“You’re bleeding Sarah,” Emma blubbered.
And Sarah saw that it was so. Her legs and the floor were covered in bright red blood and it kept on gushing out of her. Sarah felt faint at the sight of it. She held a wooden beam to steady herself and Emma rushed forward to help her. The lantern cast eerie shadows around the barn.
“I’m not going to make it,” Sarah’s breathing was shallow. “You’re going to have to cut him out of me. Ach, sweet Emma I would not ask this of you if it weren’t necessary.”
“I can’t,” Emma wailed, bending over Sarah’s writhing body. “Sarah, please! Let me call Jarron. We’ll take you to the hospital!”
Sarah’s screams filled the air. Emma held her sister’s clammy cold hands as the contraction ripped through her. “Sarah, stay with me!” Emma pleaded, her sobs falling on deaf ears, her tears falling on
a face that had gone deathly white. “Sarah! Don’t leave us!”
Sarah’s grip on Emma’s hand and life itself slackened, her body relaxed and her eyes rolled back in their sockets. A boppli’s cries pierced the night.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A Very Merry Christmas
It had stopped snowing late last night. All sound had been snuffed out and the world shone bright in the sunlight. Martha felt like she was floating in a dream. The winter roses that rested in her hair were fragrant and looked particularly stunning against her dark hair.
Five months pregnant and glowing like a lantern in a stormy night, Emma fussed about Martha, fixing a loose strand of hair here, adding a tweak to her dress there. She finally tied the kapp and stood back to look at the effect.
Mamm and Emma had tears in their eyes.
“You make a beautiful bride,” Emma managed to say.
“If only Sarah were here,” Mamm sobbed.
“Ach, Mamm,” Emma soothed but the sudden wails of a boppli got her attention. She leaned over the small crib and picked up the boppli, pink cheeked and mewling. “I think Jeramiah needs a nappy change,” Emma cooed. “Mamm, could you?”
Martha knew Emma had asked Mamm to take care of Jeramiah because it diverted her thoughts away from Sarah towards more pleasant things. Like Martha’s wedding to Jacob Lapp.
Jacob had done more than follow through with his promise. He had purchased the house and barn and he had persuaded his family, with the help of Bishop Amos, to trust in Gott’s will and to exercise forgiveness and kindness.
Mamm and Daed had been stunned when Mr. and Mrs. Lapp had arrived at their home to personally apologize for the pain they must have caused them by involving Aunt Lizzie and demanding the ridiculous thing they had demanded of Martha.
Martha and Jacob had resumed their courtship soon after and now on Second Christmas day they were going to be married in Eli’s barn. Eli’s barn, which held so many memories for Martha. She had taken refuge in it when she had returned to the community, too afraid and guilt ridden to face anyone so she had starved for weeks before Jarron and Emma had found her.
“Can you believe it,” Emma said, “a year ago none of us were this happy.”
“I certainly wasn’t,” Martha agreed. “And Sarah had just gotten the blow.”
“The Bontrager’s have come a long way since then,” Emma nodded. “Me with child, you getting married, and Sarah…”
“And Sarah finally agreeing to treatment,” Martha grinned. “If you hadn’t taken her to the hospital on time we might have lost her Emma.”
A shadow crossed Emma’s face at the memory of that horrible night, how she had clutched a newborn Jeramiah, slippery with blood and birth, and ran all the way to the house, screaming for Jarron to get the buggy.
It was lucky that Jarron had found her missing from bed ten minutes ago and hitched the buggy in readiness.
“Ant Martha,” Ruth came running in, her bouquet of flowers clutched in her tiny hands. “Grossdaed says to hurry up. He says Onkel Jacob will leave without you if you are late.”
“He wouldn’t dare,” Martha giggled and followed Emma and Ruth out the door to the wagon where Jarron waited. Daed kissed his daughters goodbye. Mamm waved, Jeramiah in her hands. Martha thought the custom ridiculous. Daed and Mamm would be attending the feast after the ceremony so why not attend? But who was Martha to question Gott’s will.
The snow crunched under the wagon’s wheels and the atmosphere inside the wagon was giddy and cozy. Eli’s barn was full of people from the community but Jacob’s parents, just like her own, were not allowed to attend.
Jacob stood at the other end of the barn, looking dashing in his trousers and shirt of sky blue. It made his eyes sparkle extra blue, a depth in which Martha saw an abundance of love for her. He was wheeling Sarah around in her wheelchair so she could greet the folk who had come to celebrate the union.
Martha walked over to Sarah, frail and papery-skinned but very much alive. Her eyes were sparkling and though she looked like she had been dragged from the jaws of death, Martha knew her sister was a survivor, one of Gott’s strong people. They all were. All three Bontrager sisters who had taken the odds Gott sent their way and still held their heads high and dealt with them with dignity.
Martha took her place in front of Bishop Amos, Jacob beside her and her sisters, Jarron and the kinder behind her. With her family all around, Martha could ask for no more of Gott’s blessings.
“Merry Christmas,” Jacob whispered to Martha as the service started.
“And to you, my love,” Martha replied.
“Thank you for the lovely present, Em,” Jarron murmured, gingerly patting her belly.
“Thank you for being mine,” Emma said. “And for the great joy you give me every day. I would not have known such happiness without you.”
“Merry Christmas, Mamm,” Isaac and Ruth nuzzled into Sarah as the service proceeded.
“Merry Christmas my dear kinder,” Sarah wheezed, kissing their curly heads. She glanced up at the ceiling and imagined the sky beyond. “Merry Christmas my love, wherever you are,” she sent her message on the wind.
Be the first to find out about Hannah’s New Books Click Here to Find Out How
I would like to thank you for taking the time to download my book. I really hope that you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
If you feel able I would love for you to give the book a short review on Amazon.
If you want to keep up to date with all of my latest releases then please like my FACEBOOK PAGE
Many thanks once again, all my love.
Hannah.
ANTHOLOGIES
AMISH REFLECTIONS: AMISH ANTHOLOGY COLLECTION
MORE AMISH REFLECTIONS : ANOTHER AMISH ANTHOLOGY COLLECTION
AMISH YOUNG SPRING LOVE BOX SET
AMISH PARABLES SERIES BOX SET
AMISH HEART SHORT STORY COLLECTION
AN AMISH TRILOGY BOX SET
AMISH ROMANCE SERIES
AMISH HEARTACHE
AMISH HEARTACHE
THE AMISH WIDOW AND THE PREACHER’S SON
AN AMISH CHRISTMAS WITH THE BONTRAGER SISTERS
A BIG BEAUTIFUL AMISH COURTSHIP
AMISH HOLDUP
AMISH ANGUISH
SHORT AMISH ROMANCE STORIES
AMISH BONTRAGER SISTERS 2 - THE COMPLETE SECOND SEASON
AMISH BONTRAGER SISTERS - THE COMPLETE FIRST SEASON
THE AMISH BROTHER'S BATTLE
AMISH OUTSIDER
AMISH FORGIVENESS AND FRIENDSHIP
THE AMISH OUTSIDER'S LIE
AMISH VANITY
AMISH NORTH
AMISH YOUNG SPRING LOVE SHORT STORIES SERIES
THE AMISH BISHOP'S DAUGHTER
AN AMISH ARRANGEMENT
AMISH REJECTION
AMISH BETRAYAL
THE AMISH PARABLES SERIES
THE AMISH BUILDER
THE AMISH PRODIGAL SON
AMISH PERSISTENCE
THE AMISH GOOD SAMARITAN
Coming Soon…..Stolen Amish Baby
Life was a blessing that everyone took for granted. Everyone was simply contented with the fact that they exist, without even realizing that their very existence, their very lives were gifts that no other human being could have given them. Only Gott had that power, that authority to bring whoever He wished into this world. He alone determined everyone’s lives and fates, but sometimes people wished they had that very authority. For some, they wished they could create life as easily as Gott willed it.
Adam and Gabrielle Troyer were one such couple who wished they had such power. Married already for nearly seven years without a child to care for, they could not help but feel a little envious of all the new couples they saw during Sunday service who had already been blessed. Those new families’ happiness only seemed to rub the depressing truth in Adam’s and Gabrielle’s faces...they couldn't have a child.
Gabrielle brushed the flour fro
m her hands and sighed. She seemed to sigh a lot recently. It wasn't as though she were miserable:; not really. She loved Adam the same today as she did when she married him. They adored each other. They both had fulfilling lives. He worked in his father's furniture store, a store that one day would become his. She had a part time position with an English tailors at town. They both had a great deal of friends within the Amish community and beyond. There would hardly be an evening go by where they weren't invited to dinner, helping out their siblings or engaging in a range of pursuits with various groups. But all of that couldn't hide the feeling that something was missing from their lives.
It didn't take a genius to work out what that missing thing was.
An Amish Christmas With the Bontrager Sisters Page 6