A Hope Springs Christmas

by Patricia Davids

  “Why?”

  “To be out in the fresh air. To enjoy the glories that are the world God has given us. To be at one with nature.”

  “I ask again, why are you going fishing?”

  She closed the lid of the bench and sat down. “I invited my brother and his family to come for Christmas. Apparently, his son loves to fish. I offered to take my nephew fishing if the weather was nice enough while they were here. It was snowing when I wrote the letter. How was I to know it was going to warm up? I received an answer this morning. They are coming for a visit, and Merle is very excited that he is going fishing with his aunt. Can you give me a few pointers so I don’t look like a complete fool?”

  “Like how to tell a tackle box from a picnic basket?”

  “You enjoy poking fun at me, don’t you?”

  He folded his arms over his chest and stroked his chin with one hand. “I’ve never gotten to do it before. Ja, it’s kind of fun.”

  “Levi, will you take me fishing or not?”

  How could he deny her anything? “All right.”

  “When?” she demanded eagerly.

  “Tomorrow?”

  “It can’t be tomorrow. I’m going to a quilting bee.”

  “That’s just as well. I need to deliver Susan Hershberger’s repaired buggy. How about the day after tomorrow?” He had plenty of work to do, but the prospect of spending an afternoon alone at the lake with Sarah was too tempting to pass up.

  “I think the day after tomorrow will be fine, but I’ll have to let you know tomorrow for sure. What time would we leave?”

  “I’ll pick you up at one o’clock.”

  “Where will we go?”

  “Down to the old stone quarry. I think the bass fishing will be good there.”

  Sarah grinned. “It sounds like a wonderful time.”

  She looked so excited and happy that his heart gave a funny little skip. He never imagined she would be thrilled to spend time in his company.

  She went inside the house and he returned to the woodpile. Picking up his ax, he began whistling as he worked.

  * * *

  Over a dozen buggies and two-wheeled carts lined the lane leading up to Sally Yoder’s home. Sally herself greeted Sarah at the front door. “Come in and welcome. Nearly everyone is here except the bride and her family.”

  “She’ll be here.” Sarah remembered how excited and nervous she had been at her own quilting frolic, for she knew she and her new husband would spend many nights together beneath the quilt she had designed and pieced together. She had chosen the Birds in the Air pattern in shades of blue, soft creams and bright greens. That quilt was packed away now, for she couldn’t bear to sleep beneath it alone.

  Inside Sally’s home, twelve women were already seated around the large kitchen table. The air was filled with lively chatter. The mouthwatering smells of fresh coffee, warm donuts and freshly made cinnamon rolls added to the party atmosphere.

  Sally’s father and three of her brothers were setting out straight-backed and folding chairs around the edges of a large quilting frame in the front room. The furniture in the room had all been pushed against the walls to make room. Sunlight streamed in through the south-facing windows. The quilt top was a beautiful Sunshine and Shadows pattern with blocks in shades of blue, green, magenta, pink and violet alternating with rows of black. She wondered what had made Ina choose this particular pattern and fabrics.

  Sarah scanned the faces of the women who ranged in age from seventeen to seventy. They were all women she knew well. Nettie Imhoff and her daughter-in-law Katie Sutter were talking to Karen, Nettie’s stepdaughter, who had recently wed Jonathan Dresher. Faith Lapp and Rebecca Troyer sat beside Naomi Wadler. Esther Zook, the bishop’s wife, was locked in deep conversation with Susan Hershberger. They darted compassionate glances in Sarah’s direction.

  No doubt, the bishop’s wife was getting an earful about the Beachy brothers. Poor Grace would have her work cut out winning over Henry’s mother when she came home.

  Looking for Joann Yoder, Sarah spied her standing alone near the back door and staring with longing out the window. She was dressed in a drab gray dress with a black apron. Her hair was mousy brown beneath her black kapp. Her shoes were coated with drying mud.

  After accepting a cup of coffee, Sarah moved to stand near her. “I almost wish it were rainy and dreary out today.”

  Joann looked at her in surprise. “Why?”

  “It’s such a beautiful day, cool but not chilly, with plenty of sunshine to tempt a person away from the chores inside. After all, how many more nice days can we expect this late in December?”

  “Not many, but a quilting bee is not really a chore.” Joann lowered her gaze again, as if she was afraid she’d said too much.

  She reminded Sarah so much of Levi that she wanted to give the woman a hug. Not that Sarah was tempted to hug Levi. That wouldn’t be proper. Okay, she did feel the urge to hug him sometimes, but only because he worked too hard and his family didn’t appreciate all he did.

  Sarah said, “You’re right, a quilting frolic is much more than stitching. We’ll hear familiar tales from the grandmothers, and catch up on their grandchildren’s antics. Perhaps we’ll even hear some of the latest gossip. We’ll sing and laugh together. Later, there would be oodles of food. I can smell the ham cooking already, can’t you? The only thing better than this would be a day spent fishing.”

  For you and Levi, not for me.

  Joann looked up with interest. “You enjoy fishing?”

  Sarah couldn’t outright lie to her. She decided to sidestep that comment. This was for Levi. She forced a smile and said brightly, “Enjoy is hardly the word I would use. My husband took me when we were first married. I never seemed to have time after I started working at the fabric store.”

  “I know what you mean. I don’t get to go as often as I would like, either.”

  This was her opening. Sarah tried not to sound too eager. “Levi Beachy is taking me over to the old quarry tomorrow. Would you like to join us?”

  A look of delight filled Joann’s eyes, but it quickly died away. “I’m sure the two of you would rather go alone.”

  “Not at all. You would be doing me a great favor by joining us. Levi is a much better fisherman than I am. I know he’d enjoy the company of someone who isn’t a novice.”

  “Do you really think so?” The fearful hope in her words fueled Sarah’s determination. Here was a woman who didn’t need to be convinced of Levi’s good traits. She just needed a way for him to notice her.

  Sarah laid a hand on Joann’s arm. “He’ll be thrilled. Please say you can come.”

  “Well, if you’re sure it’s okay.”

  “Perfect. We’re meeting at my house at one o’clock. Levi said the bass fishing should be good over at the old quarry.”

  “After this nice warm-up, I reckon it will be. I hooked into a big one there a month ago, but it broke my line. I’m ready to try and land him again.”

  Sarah felt a sudden pang of envy. Joann and Levi might find they had many things in common besides fishing. That was the reason Sarah had suggested the outing. So why did the look of anticipation on Joann’s face leave her feeling jealous?

  Sarah faced the true cause of her discontent. She wanted to feel that rush of attraction again. She wanted her heart to skip a beat when the name of a certain someone was mentioned.

  Such thoughts were pure foolishness. God had given her the best possible husband, but for some reason, she didn’t deserve to know years of happiness with him. The fault lay in her, not in her husband, she was sure of that. Joann and Levi deserved a chance at the happiness that eluded her.

  Joann asked, “What’s the matter? You look so sad.”

  Sarah managed a smile as she shook her head. “It’s nothing.�
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  The front door opened and Ina Stultz came in with her mother and both her grandmothers. Sarah went to say hello, glad for something else to think about.

  Now that the bride-to-be had arrived, Sally’s mother invited everyone to find a place at the quilting frame. With so many eager hands, Sarah knew the project would be finished by day’s end. She followed the others into the front room and took a seat beside Joann.

  Out came the inch-and-a-half-long quilting needles, called “sharps” or “betweens” and spools of thread. For a few minutes, the chatter died away as the women got down to work threading their needles and studying the areas to be outlined. The quiet didn’t last long.

  “Do you remember when I used to make a play fort under your quilting frame?” Ina asked her mother.

  “I do. It wasn’t until you were ten that you decided to watch me quilt while you stood beside me instead of playing at my feet.”

  “Does this quilt have a story?” Rebecca asked, running her hand over the colorful pattern.

  Ina smiled. “My mother and her mother both used the Sunlight and Shadow pattern for their wedding quilts.”

  “To remind us that our lives will be filled with both gladness and sorrow, but that the comfort of the Lord will always be over us,” her grandmother explained.

  There were murmurs of agreement from around the room.

  “From the time I first started setting stitches I wanted to become as good as my grandmother.” Ina smiled at her family.

  Sarah nodded. Hand-quilting was a journey of personal accomplishment for each Amish girl. Like Ina, Sarah had spent years striving for consistent lengths, working to make straighter lines and improve her stitch count.

  For Sarah, her personal best became ten stitches per inch. A goal few quilters could reach. But then, most Amish girls married and began raising families—work that took them away from their craft until their children were grown and they had more time again. Without a husband or children to care for, Sarah had been free to devote her evenings to quilting. She often made two a year. Naomi Wadler sold them for her to the tourists who stayed at the Wadler Inn.

  Sarah chose a starting place on Ina’s quilt and began to rock her needle through the three layers of fabric stretched on the frame, the solid backing, the batting in the middle to make the quilt fluffy and warm and the top sheet, which bore the pattern. By rocking the needle back and forth, she was able to load as many stitches as possible before drawing the thread through the layers.

  Looking up from her work, she saw smiles on the happy faces around her. These women had come together to do something for one of their own. It was a wonderful feeling to join them, young and old alike, as they worked on a craft they all loved.

  The skill levels were diverse in such a large group. It was one reason that quilts done at a bee were kept by the families and not offered for sale. Having been employed by an Englishwoman and having met many of the English tourists who came to the store, Sarah knew they prized uniformity in the stitching of the quilts they came to purchase. Such quilts were usually done by one woman.

  Joann leaned close. “Watch, Sally will start a contest soon to see who can make the shortest stitches.”

  Sarah looked over the women. “Anyone who can beat Rebecca Troyer will deserve a prize. You may be a contender. You have a very neat hand at this.”

  “Danki, but my skills are nothing compared to Rebecca’s,” Joann said.

  Rebecca was a renowned quilter in the community. She once suffered from a disease that gradually robbed her of her sight. She had supported herself and her aged aunt by making quilts to sell. With the help of many, and Gideon Troyer in particular, the community had raised enough money for Rebecca to undergo surgery to restore her sight.

  By the grace of God, she could now see as well as anyone, but she still kept her eyes closed when she was quilting. She said the sight of so many colors and shapes distracted her from the feel of her needle.

  The afternoon passed quickly and Sarah enjoyed the company of her friends. It was getting late when Naomi Wadler spoke up. “Sarah, lead us in a song. Your voice is so sweet.”

  “Sing ‘In the Sweet By and By,’” Ina said quickly.

  Closing her eyes, Sarah began, “There’s a land that is fairer than day, And by faith we can see it afar; For the Father waits over the way, To prepare us a dwelling place there.”

  Everyone joined in the hymn’s refrain. “In the sweet by and by, We shall meet on that beautiful shore; In the sweet by and by, We shall meet on that beautiful shore.”

  When the song was finished, Ina said, “Choose another one, Sarah. What is your favorite?”

  * * *

  Levi trudged along the highway with his horse walking behind him. He was on his way back to Hope Springs after delivering the repaired carriage to Daniel Hershberger’s farm. Having driven it over with his own mare, Levi now led his docile Dotty along the edge of the roadway. A few cars zipped past, but the mare kept her head down and walked quietly beside him. The steady clip-clop of her hooves on the blacktop provided a soothing sound to their walk.

  He’d made one other stop before dropping off the buggy. He had stopped at Bishop Zook’s farm. He’d had a long talk with the bishop. He felt his brothers would benefit from the minister’s wisdom.

  It was late in the afternoon now and the air was growing chilly. The newspaper that morning said to expect two more days of sunshine before the cold weather returned. It looked as if the weather would stay fine for their fishing trip, if Sarah decided she could join him.

  Throughout the day, he’d had a hard time keeping his mind on his work. Thoughts of spending a quiet afternoon alone with Sarah kept intruding. He was eager for this day to end and for tomorrow to arrive.

  As he crested a hill, he noticed a line of buggies in the lane of the house off to right. He recognized Sarah’s gray gelding hitched to the white rail fence.

  Dotty lifted her head and whinnied a greeting. Several of the buggy horses replied in kind including Sarah’s gray.

  He patted Dotty’s neck. “Must be the quilting bee Sarah spoke about.”

  He hoped she was having a good time with the other women. She didn’t get out much except to go to work and church and occasionally visit her family. Since Jonas’s death, the joy had gone out of her eyes. Levi knew several widows who had remarried and found happiness again. Why hadn’t Sarah? Was her grief so deep?

  As he passed by the lane, he heard the sounds of singing coming from inside the house. Someone must have opened a window. It was an old hymn, one he particularly liked called, “Savior Like a Shepherd Lead Us.”

  He stopped to listen. Dotty dropped her head and snatched a bite of grass growing along the roadside. Levi recognized Sarah’s pure, clear voice leading the song. He stayed where he was, listening to the words that stirred his soul and embodied his faith until the last note died away.

  Sarah had beauty inside and out. What would it be like to have such a woman as a wife? He couldn’t imagine the joy that must have been Jonas’s.

  Levi settled his hat firmly on his head and started walking again. More and more, he found he couldn’t stop thinking about Sarah, about her smile and her laugh, about the way she scolded his brothers and put the shop to rights. Tomorrow, he prayed he would see her smile and maybe even laugh, not at him, but with him.

  The urge to sing overtook him but he settled for quietly whistling the hymn Sarah had been singing. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

  Chapter Nine

  Levi left the shop at noon and went home to eat a hasty lunch. Sarah had stopped by the previous evening to say she could go fishing with him. He didn’t want to keep her waiting, but there was one thing he had to do first.

  The twins came in to eat a short time later. They had been making wheel spokes and were covered with
wood shavings from the lathe. They’d been a quiet pair following the incident with Daniel’s buggy. It wouldn’t last. He knew they’d be up to something else before long.

  He said, “I’m going fishing today. You will stay and run the shop while I’m gone.”

  The boys looked at each other. Moses said, “We’d like to go fishing, too.”

  “I would have liked to be paid for the work I put into Daniel Hershberger’s carriage. Thanks to you, I labored for nothing.”

  Scowling, Moses said, “You shouldn’t have agreed to give it to him at cost. It’s not like he can’t afford it.”

  “Sarah made the offer, and I had to agree to it. She is the owner of the shop we work in. I think you forget that sometimes. The place is not ours to do with as we will.”

  “How can we forget it? The sign says Wyse Buggy Shop in big letters.” Moses had a mulish expression on his face that troubled Levi.

  He said, “I like a good joke as well as the next fellow, but you two crossed the line this time. Someone could have been hurt.”

  “No one was,” Atlee countered, looking chastised.

  “No one was—this time. It pains me to say this, but I’m giving you both two weeks’ notice. You will have to find jobs elsewhere.”

  “What?” They gaped at him in disbelief.

  “If I cannot trust you to keep the safety of our customers foremost in your minds, you can’t work for me. You are free to seek employment elsewhere.”

  Atlee said, “You can’t run the place by yourself.”

  “I will hire a man I can trust. Perhaps working for someone other than your brother will teach you to value the work you do.”

  “You mean you’re going to stop paying us? How will we get our spending money?”

  “That is no longer my problem.”

  Moses said, “It’s not that easy to find a job. Who will hire us both?”

  Levi didn’t want to punish his brothers, but he had ignored his responsibilities toward them for far too long. He wasn’t their father, but he was an adult who knew right from wrong. It was past time they learned a hard lesson.