After sharing the meal together, they were instructed to pray for one another.
Anna set her tin cup on the floor. “Why don’t you go first, Phoebe? How would you like us to pray?”
“I’m with child.” Phoebe’s eyes watered, but she brushed the tears away. This was the third time since they came to Schoenbrunn Village that Phoebe was expecting. She’d only carried one child until it was ready to be birthed, the stillborn boy buried in God’s Acre.
“That’s wonderful news,” Anna said.
They prayed for Phoebe’s child to be born healthy and full term.
Rebecca spoke next. “I lack faith. I need to trust God’s grace to get me through this lonely time and to provide me with a Christian husband. I miss Samuel, and I miss my home. Sometimes at night, I can’t stop crying.”
Anna swallowed as she remembered grieving for Noah. If she hadn’t had John when Noah died…she cleared her throat, and prayed for Rebecca.
Phoebe placed her hand on Anna’s arm. “How would you like us to pray?”
She glanced at the door even though she promised herself she wouldn’t keep looking for John. “I am well.”
Phoebe raised an eyebrow.
“Really,” Anna said. “I need no prayers. My husband and children are healthy, and we had a good crop this year. God is good.”
“God is good,” Phoebe said. “But one of His greatest gifts is a community of believers who pray for one another. So give us your request.”
Heat rushed to Anna’s face. She couldn’t say it, couldn’t allow herself to think that things might go wrong in Gnadenhutten. “I told you, I am well.”
Rebecca wrapped her arm around Anna. “Do you think we are so easily duped? Your eyes are puffy from crying, and your face is as red as mine. We are sisters in Christ. Let us be there for you, as you have helped us in time of need.”
Anna blinked to keep her tears from being shed. She’d planned to comfort Rebecca. Instead Rebecca was helping her through this. “Pray for my husband’s safety.” She swallowed. “And for God to move among Brother Paul’s tribe.”
“Lord,” Phoebe prayed. “Keep Brother John and those with him safe until they return, and make their mission fruitful with many converts.”
A tear rolled out of Anna’s right eye. She wiped it away.
“And keep Anna in your peace as she goes through this dark night,” Rebecca prayed. “Let her know she has sisters in Christ to rely upon and that You promised to always be with her, that You are God with us.”
The lump in Anna’s throat threatened to choke her. Promises had a way of being broken. This last one had to be different. She couldn’t lose John. She glanced towards the closed door.
He’d make it. He’d keep his promise this time.
Brother Davis passed pure beeswax candles with red ribbons tied around them to everyone in the congregation, including the children.
Pastor Jungman lit the candles with a flintlock tinder lighter.
A choir of children, including Belinda and Lisel, came forward to lead the singing of Morning Star, O Cheering Light.
This was always Anna’s favorite part of the Christmas Eve Lovefeast, but somehow the words in the last verse struck her like never before. “Morning Star, my soul’s true light, tarry not, dispel my night.”
She willed the door to open as she prayed for Jesus to tarry not in dispelling her night. The only way that could happen would be for her husband to come home—safe—and fulfill his promise to her.
More hymns were sung, Scriptures were passed out to the children, and the doors in the back of the church opened, not to let John in, but because the Christmas Eve Lovefeast had come to an end.
Anna hugged Phoebe and Rebecca and headed towards the children’s choir. Before she made her way to the back, Pastor Jungman and his wife, Sister Margaret, approached her.
Pastor Jungman taught the girls at the village school and always had a kind word when she went to fetch them. “With John gone, I thought you might be in need of meat for your Christmas supper. I shot a pheasant and a wild turkey today.”
“It’s too much for our family,” Sister Margaret said. “You’d be doing us a favor by taking the pheasant off our hands.”
Anna blushed. Were they helping her because Pastor knew the danger John was in? Did they already consider her a widow? “Thank you. It would be a godsend.”
So this was what she had to look forward to, the men of the village taking care of her as they did Rebecca and the other widows. But if something happened to John, Anna had young children. She wouldn’t live in the widows’ cabin.
She would be alone.
“I’ll bring it by tonight,” Pastor Jungman said.
“If there’s anything else we can do to help,” Sister Margaret said, “you send Belinda to fetch us.” She placed her hand on Anna’s. “Don’t worry. The men will be home in the morning. Gnadenhutten is only a three hour walk. God is good. All will be well.”
“All will be well.” Anna tried to keep the catch out of her voice, but failed.
The Jungmans pretended they didn’t notice and excused themselves.
Anna collected the children and walked home. She peered into the night, but couldn’t see any images in the distance that looked like men returning to the village.
Lisel skipped ahead and was swallowed up in the fog.
Anna’s heart raced as she picked up Katrina and ran to catch up. When she reached Lisel, she set Katrina down and swatted Lisel’s bottom. “I warned you not to run ahead. Do you want an Indian to grab you, and take you away?”
Lisel’s bottom lip quivered, and tears fell from her eyes.
Anna swallowed the lump in her throat. She’d never spanked the girls before. They’d always disciplined in other ways. “Lisel.”
Lisel sobbed.
“I’m sorry.” Anna hugged her daughter. “I love you. I don’t want anything to happen to you. Do you understand?”
Lisel wiped her face and nodded.
“Good. Now let’s get home so we can prepare for Christmas.”
“I’m sorry, Mama.”
“It’s all right.” Anna wiped Lisel’s tears away with her sleeve.
Lisel grabbed hold of her hand, and they headed to the cabin. After entering, she paused to latch the door. Without John home, she felt safer with the entrance locked.
The children rushed to the tree to hang their candles and Scriptures. Belinda set her candle on the highest beam. After Anna lit them, the girls stood and admired them. Lisel’s eyes widened at the sight.
A knock sounded, and Anna ran to the door. She didn’t think about John arriving this late. She shouldn’t have latched it.
Pastor Jungman stood there holding a pheasant in the air.
Anna placed a hand over her stomach.
“I wanted to bring it over tonight so you’d have plenty of time to prepare it tomorrow. I know how John likes his fowl well done.”
“Thank you kindly, Pastor Jungman.” She grabbed the pheasant, and set it on the table. It was heavy enough to land with a thud.
“Pastor Jungman.” Lisel grabbed his hand and pulled him into the cabin. “See our tree. Isn’t it wonderful?”
Pastor Jungman patted Lisel on the head. “You have a very fine tree. Your Papa will be pleased when he returns.”
Anna tucked a stray curl into her Habba. “Would you like to stay for coffee or sweet buns?”
“Thank you, no. My wife and children are waiting for me to light the candles on our tree.” He turned to go.
Anna stirred up the courage to ask. “Have you heard word from Gnadenhutten?”
Brother Jungman turned. He had compassion in his eyes, or was it pity?
“No word, yet. But take heart. I’m sure it took longer than they expected. That’s why they’re not home. John and the others will make an early start in the morning. You’ll see. They’ll be home by midday.” Brother Jungman opened the door and paused. “Sister Margaret and I will pray for your hu
sband’s safe return.” He closed the door behind him.
It made the same thud as when John left.
“Can I put Baby Jesus in the manger?” Katrina asked.
Anna nodded. She hated John not being home for this. Katrina carefully placed the Baby Jesus pinecone in the manger.
“Mama,” Belinda said. “Can we keep the candles lit until we slumber?”
“As long as you go to sleep right away.”
“We will,” Lisel said. “Will Papa be home early?”
Anna turned away. “I don’t know.” She let out a breath and faced her children. “Maybe he’ll be here when you wake up. Now, to bed, all of you.”
The children prepared for bed and crawled onto their straw tick. Anna kissed them each goodnight. She settled in the rocker with the pheasant in her lap and pulled out feathers. As she did, she watched the girls sleep under the flicker of candlelight. When the pheasant had been stripped of its feathers, Anna placed the bird in cold salt water to draw out the rest of the blood.
Katrina let out a soft snore, and Anna blew out the candles, but she couldn’t sleep, not yet. She stepped outside and watched the road.
The moon shone brightly against the blanket of snow covering the ground. It was a clear night. She could see the Big Dipper and the North Star. If John was on his way home, he’d be facing north. He would see it, too. The wind whipped around Anna causing her to shiver. She needed to go inside to bed. Tomorrow was Christmas.
John promised to be home.
8
John spun to the left, batted the pillow, twisted to the right. Luke snored beside him. It sounded like the snorting of the pig he butchered so they could have meat this winter. The grunting of Luke’s snores and waiting for Paul to come to bed made it impossible for John to sleep. At least, those were the excuses he told himself.
He sat on the side of the bed and looked out the small window at the foot of the loft. The North Star shone brightly. That was the direction he should have been heading this evening, north towards Schoenbrunn Village, towards Anna and the children. But instead, he was stuck here for one more evening while Chief Swantaney decided what to do.
Another broken promise.
Thirteen years ago, he and Anna had watched the North Star on another Christmas Eve.
After another Lovefeast in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, Brother Radul, Anna’s father, invited John to come to their home to share a meal with them. That wasn’t the real purpose for the visit. John had asked him for his daughter’s hand in marriage. Brother Radul seemed pleased by the prospect.
John asked Anna to walk with him, and she said she would. They strolled along the banks of the Lehigh River and stopped near a white oak tree. It hadn’t snowed since Thanksgiving, and the tree was barren, but its orange leaves crunched under their feet as they walked.
The clear sky displayed too many stars to count. John pointed to the north. “There’s the Big Dipper. And that’s the North Star.”
A brisk wind gusted, and Anna pulled her cloak in tight. John wrapped an arm around her.
She leaned her head onto his shoulder. “The stars are beautiful tonight.”
“I was lost in the forest once.” John gazed at the North Star. “It was on a hunting trip, and I’d travelled too far away from the village. I was able to find my way home following that star.”
“It reminds me of God’s Word,” Anna said. “At times, we may lose our way, but just like the North Star, God’s Word will guide us home.”
John pulled back. Anna’s dark round eyes gazed at him in the moonlight, and the brown curls trying to poke their way out of her Habba gave him pause at the wonder of this night, this perfect moment. “I have something to say.” He swallowed hard. The words wouldn’t come.
“Brother John, I would hope by now you know you can converse with me about anything.”
“Yes.” John wiped his face with his handkerchief. “That’s why I want to ask you…” He took her hands in his, and a tingle travelled up his arm. “Anna, will you marry me?”
“I have a fond affection for you, John Brunner. That I can’t deny.” She drew her hand away. “But I need a promise from you before I commit to pledging my troth.”
John’s heart beat faster. “I don’t understand.”
“Promise me that our lives will be spent advancing the Kingdom of God and sharing the Gospel with the Lenape, no matter what the cost. Do that, or, no matter how deep my affection for you, our nuptials will never take place.”
John cleared his throat. “Have I ever given you cause to believe I would want otherwise?”
Anna gave a half smile. “I’ve never known a man who serves our Lord with more fervor than you.” She lowered her eyes. “Except maybe my father. I’ve often hoped you would speak of marriage with me. But I made a vow to our Lord that I would only marry a man who would pledge thus.”
John placed a hand on his chest. “I promise that our lives will be spent serving the Lord and spreading the Gospel to the Lenape.”
“Then my answer is yes. I shall marry you.”
****
John had broken so many promises to Anna since then. He gave his word Noah wouldn’t die, and that they’d be safe if they moved to Schoenbrunn Village. Not arriving home in time for Christmas would be one more shattered pledge. But he didn’t break his first vow to her, and he never would.
He climbed down the ladder to the main room. If he wasn’t going to sleep, he might as well provide companionship to Paul and stay close to the fireplace where it was warm. It was so cold in that loft that sleeping there wasn’t much better than pitching a tent outside.
Paul sat with his legs crossed on the floor near the fireplace, staring at the Bible open in his lap.
John hesitated to interrupt him if he was spending time with God, and started back up the ladder.
“You’re not disturbing me,” Paul said without looking up from the book. “I desire your fellowship…and your guidance.”
John sat on the floor next to Paul and spread his hands in front of the fire to warm them.
“I’ve been reading about my namesake, the Apostle Paul.” Paul looked up and closed his Bible. “He didn’t let anything stop him from spreading the Good News of Jesus Christ.”
“That’s true,” John said, not sure where the conversation was headed.
“I’ve done some wrong in my life,” Paul said. “When I was a warrior, I raided villages, stole livestock and horses, killed people. Not just from tribes we were at war with.” His Adam’s apple bulged. “I’ve murdered Christians.”
“I know.” They’d talked about this before. Although most Lenape tribes were peaceful, Paul’s tribe often plundered other tribes and villages. John had often assured Paul he was forgiven.
“Paul did the same thing. He persecuted the church. He even says he was the worst of sinners.”
John didn’t say anything.
“Yet he didn’t let anything dissuade him from sharing the Gospel. He was beaten, imprisoned, shipwrecked, chained. Nothing stopped him.”
“That’s true.”
Paul’s jaw twitched. “He willingly was arrested and sent to Rome as a prisoner to fulfill his goal to convert the Romans.”
“I’m not sure what you’re trying to say,” John said.
“Did you see the faces of some of the braves yesterday? After I spoke to them?”
“They seemed touched by your words.”
Paul stood and poked the fire. “I would do anything to deliver to Christ the reward of his suffering by sharing the Gospel with the young braves of my tribe, to convert my own people.”
John’s breath caught. “What are you thinking?” He stood. “You can’t go back there.”
Paul leaned one arm against the fireplace. “I haven’t decided what I’m going to do.”
John grabbed Paul’s arm. “You can’t do it. Your father would never let you practice your Christian faith. And what happens if your tribe raids another village? You would be require
d to don war paint and take part.”
Paul pulled his arm away and shrugged. “I would never do that. I’ve given my allegiance to God. I won’t go back to the old ways.”
“Then you’re putting your life in danger.”
Paul’s chin jutted. “So did the Apostle Paul.”
“Without the Moravians’ fellowship, you would have to choose between going back to your sinful ways, and death.” John wiped his hand across the back of his neck. “All of the ways of your people will be calling you to the life you once lived. You won’t have brothers in the faith to go to for advice or admonishment. You’ll be on your own.”
“Weren’t you listening, tonight?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“The verse they quoted at the Lovefeast. You know I have a good memory. I can quote it if you’d like.”
“I know the verse.”
Paul grinned. “I’m still going to quote it. Matthew 1:23 says, ‘Behold, a virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with us.”‘
John let out a sigh. “God with us.”
“So wherever I go, I won’t be alone. That isn’t the only verse where Christ promised He will always be with me. There are many more. If you like, I could quote them.”
“I thought your ability to instantly memorize the written and spoken word was a good thing, but now you’re using it against me.”
“Don’t you think God gifted me with that ability for a reason? Maybe He knew I would need to learn the written language of the Lenape in a short time so I could bring God’s Word to my own tribe.”
“Being able to read the Bible and memorize Scripture doesn’t qualify you for this.” John locked his gaze on Paul, hoping to show him how earnest he was. “You’re new in the faith, and you’ll be subjecting yourself to the same sins that were a big part of your life before. Even if God is with you, your Christian brothers and sisters won’t be. You won’t have anyone there to pray for you.”
“You’ll pray for me.”
A Christmas Promise Page 4