A Promise for Miriam

by Vannetta Chapman

  She lifted the lunch carefully, one hand holding on to the paper heart handles and one hand supporting it from underneath. Nothing popped out of the top. Nothing fell out of the bottom.

  “Aren’t you going to look inside?” Esther asked.

  Miriam noticed that all eyes were riveted on her.

  “Of course. Yes. I’ll look inside right now.” She set the box back on the table and opened it slowly, leaning back slightly as she did. When nothing sprang out, she stepped closer to gaze inside.

  There appeared to be dozens of hearts cut from paper that had been colored red, purple, and blue. They were all different sizes, but none larger than the palm of her hand. And they were all blank. Who had taken the time to cut out so many?

  The laughing in the classroom increased as she continued pulling them out and setting them on the table. She could feel something solid underneath, so surely there was food down below, but there was something else on top of it—a larger sheet of paper.

  By now the girls were giggling so hard they were bending over. Miriam couldn’t help but join them. “Seems a real Cupid made my lunch.”

  She pulled out the final sheet of paper. It was a large heart cut from red paper.

  This sheet was not blank.

  When she opened it up and read the words written there, tears began to sting her eyes.

  Blinking rapidly, she folded the heart and placed it in her pocket. “Time to eat,” she declared and then she turned so she was facing away from the class.

  Esther stepped in front of her.

  “Are you okay? I thought it was a gut thing…”

  Miriam closed her eyes and forced herself to gain control over her emotions. “Can you watch the children?”

  “Of course.”

  She didn’t bother to carry the lunch box, but the note—that she took with her.

  Gabe was working in the barn when he saw the buggy coming down his lane. At first he thought something might be wrong, but then he realized it was because of the note. Of course it was the note. Had he really expected her to wait until after school was out?

  He’d be lucky if she didn’t box his ears.

  Walking out into the afternoon sunshine, he met her before she’d made it to the pasture fence.

  “Miriam.”

  “Gabe.”

  As he helped her from the buggy, he noticed she was clutching the red heart in her hand. She glanced at him once and then walked over to the workbench he’d pulled into the doorway of the barn.

  She ran her hand along the stall door he was sanding. “Almost finished with the barn renovations?”

  “Almost.” He waited, but she didn’t pick up the conversation. She only stared out over his pasture. “I suspect that isn’t what you came to talk to me about.”

  “Nein. It isn’t.” Opening the valentine, she ran her palm down the crease in the sheet of paper. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

  “Really? You can honestly say you didn’t know how I feel about you?”

  When she finally looked at him, the tears in her eyes drew him closer, until there was only the old sawhorse between them. “But you told me to consider an alternative.”

  “Did you?

  “Ya.”

  “And?”

  She shook her head no.

  Instead, she asked what had been wounding her heart for weeks. “Why? Why did you ask me to go to him? To see his district? My feelings have been obvious for a long time—”

  “Look around you, Miriam. This place…it still needs so much work. I was hesitant to ask you to commit yourself to such a life of labor.”

  “Why?” Her hand came down and whacked the red heart. “That’s my decision to make. You can’t decide that for me.”

  A single tear escaped and traveled down her cheek. Picking up the sander he’d been using, she carefully set it on top of the heart. He made his way around the sawhorse, but she held a hand up, stopping his progress.

  “It’s for me to choose, Gabe.”

  “I know that. I know it now.” He cleared his throat and pushed on with what needed saying, with what wouldn’t fit on the heart. “I knew it when I heard you went to see Aden but still came back to Cashton. I waited, and you didn’t leave again, and I hoped that meant—”

  “Aden is a gut freind, but that is all. I don’t choose him. I choose you.”

  Now happiness struggled against his fear. “Are you sure, Miriam? I’m a little like this old farm—falling apart in places, showing promise in others. I’ll take a fair amount of work. Are you positive?”

  For her answer she flew into his arms, and he wondered why he’d ever doubted her.

  She was a strong woman, Miriam King. Strong enough to teach at the Plain School at Pebble Creek all those years. Strong enough to bring along the farm beside Pebble Creek. Strong enough to care for both him and Grace.

  He ran his thumb across her lips, along her cheek, and down her neck—and then he did what he’d wanted to do since the first day he’d stepped into the schoolroom. He kissed her.

  When they finally pulled apart, her stomach gurgled.

  “Didn’t you eat the lunch I sent?”

  “No.” She laughed and laced her fingers with his. “I didn’t even see what you sent. I read your note and then drove out here.”

  “I suppose we should go and fetch it.” Gabe walked her to her buggy.

  “Can you leave your work?”

  “Ya. I’m my own boss here. A few hours off in the middle of the day is okay. It only means I have to make it up later this afternoon.” He winked before reaching out to help her in the buggy.

  “Oh, the heart—” She hurried back to the barn door and pulled the piece of paper out from under the sander. “I wouldn’t want this to blow away while we’re gone.”

  “No. That would be terrible.”

  “I’m going to show this to our grandkinner, Gabe. So they’ll know what a wunderbaar writer their grossdaddi is.”

  “Indeed.” They climbed up and settled close to each other, and then he called out to Belle. He turned the buggy around, completely content with Miriam tucked in beside him as they headed back toward the school their kinner and grandkinner would attend, the school Grace was waiting at this very minute.

  As they made their way down the lane, Miriam read aloud the words he’d labored over the night before. They wouldn’t win any awards—Amish or Englisch—but they had expressed what was in his heart. That she was sitting beside him was proof of that, and he’d be on his knees thanking the Lord tonight it was so.

  I’m not a poet, Miriam.

  But if I were, I’d write on a red heart

  Words to describe my love for you.

  You are the reason Gotte brought us to live

  Here among these rich valleys and hills.

  Will you share our life?

  Will you be my bride?

  I can offer you days filled with Grace

  And nights of love and peace.

  If you share my love,

  Marry me and share our

  humble home,

  Along the banks of

  Pebble Creek.

  Discussion Questions

  1. Have you ever been slow to learn something about someone? Did you feel somehow betrayed? Sometimes there are good reasons as to why people keep their history, even their wounds, private. Yet it does help us to know how to help and how to pray if we’re aware of those things. Is Gabe justified in waiting to tell Miriam about Grace’s issues?

  2. In chapter 18, Esther starts the day with the children reading Psalm 125:2. We learn this is one of Miriam’s favorite verses. She thinks that it is “Simple enough for the younger ones to understand, and yet with enough wisdom for the older students.” Do you agree with this sentiment? Are the Psalms, or Scripture in general, simple enough for young children to understand, yet provide wisdom for our teens?

  3. Miriam is confused at the disparity in how much the Scmuckers have versus how little Gabe has. It is someti
mes hard to see this economic difference in our communities. What is your reaction to this in your town? What do you think God would have us do?

  4. In chapter 25, Grace gets into a small pushing match with two boys. One of the older boys, John, reminds her of the words in Romans 12:18-19. This is a tenet of the Amish lifestyle that many of us have trouble with. Do you agree or disagree with the way John explains it to the girls? How would this change our lives if more situations were handled in light of these verses?

  5. In chapter 26, Gabe faces his real fear, that perhaps a whole home wasn’t “God’s plan for him. Perhaps he was to learn to be satisfied with the piece of happiness he had.” Has there ever been a time in your life when you thought God wanted you to be happy with less?

  6. Gabe comforts Grace when she’s worried about Miriam. He reads her a verse from Matthew. “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.” In this scene we see again that Gabe isn’t a perfect father and doesn’t claim to have all the answers, but he is trying to raise his daughter lovingly and with a strong faith. How do you think he’s doing? What makes a good parent?

  7. In chapter 39, we get a peek into the bishop of Pebble Creek, an austere man who doesn’t show much emotion. Later, in the meeting with Gabe, Samuel, Eli, and Miriam, his stern mask slips and he quotes Robert Frost. What does this indicate about Jacob Beiler?

  8. At the benefit auction for Laura Kiems, the little girls are looking at the quilts, and Hannah shows them one she has done. She shows them a mistake she made in the quilt and explains, “My mamm and I made this one. Those were my stitches when we began. I wanted to pull them out, but she wouldn’t let me. She said imperfections are important too, and that I’d be able to see how much I’d improved if I left them.” What do you do imperfectly?

  9. When Drake is unmoved by Eli’s or Gabe’s concerns, Samuel once again begins quoting Scripture. Samuel is an interesting character. When I first started writing him, I’ll admit I didn’t much care for him, but he grew on me. Yes, he’s grumpy, but what’s unique about him is that he relates to other people through God’s Word. It literally is the lens through which he sees the world, and sometimes people don’t know how to respond to him and his pronouncements. Do you know anyone like this? And if you do, what is your response to them?

  10. The story ends with Gabe putting a note in Miriam’s lunch. Is this at all realistic? Why wouldn’t he just show up at the schoolhouse and speak to her, face-to-face? Do you know of any men or women who are more comfortable expressing their feelings on paper? And how does this relate to God’s ultimate “love letter” to us?

  Glossary

  Ausbund

  a collection of hymns

  boppli

  baby

  bopplin

  babies

  bruder

  brother

  danki

  thank you

  dat

  father

  dochder/dochdern

  daughter/daughters

  Englisch

  something in the non-Amish world

  Englischers

  non-Amish people

  fraa

  wife

  freinden

  friends

  gelassenheit

  humility

  gem gschehne

  you’re welcome

  Gotte’s wille

  God’s will

  grandkinner

  grandchildren

  grossdochdern

  granddaughter

  grossdaddi

  grandfather

  grossdawdi

  grandparents

  grossmammi

  grandmother

  gudemariye

  good morning

  gut

  good

  in lieb

  in love

  kaffi

  coffee

  kapp

  head covering

  kind

  child

  kinner

  children

  Loblied

  the second hymn of praise

  mamm

  mother

  naerfich

  nervous

  narrisch

  crazy

  nein

  no

  onkel

  uncle

  Ordnung

  Amish oral tradition and rules of life

  pappi

  grandfather

  rumspringa

  running-around years

  schweschder

  sister

  wunderbaar

  wonderful

  ya

  yes

  If you loved A Promise for Miriam, you won’t want to miss Book 2 of the Pebble Creek Amish Series

  A HOME FOR LYDIA

  Prologue

  Wisconsin

  April

  Lydia Fisher pulled her sweater around her shoulders and sank on to the steps of the last cabin as the sun set along Pebble Creek. The waters had begun to recede from last week’s rains, but the creek still pushed at its banks—running swiftly past the Plain Cabins, not pausing to consider her worries.

  Debris from the flooding reached to the bottom step of cabin number twelve. She could have reached out and nudged it with the toe of her shoe. Fortunately, the water hadn’t made it into the small cottages.

  Almost, though.

  Only two days ago she’d stood at the office window and watched as the waters had crept closer to the picturesque buildings nestled along the creek—watched and prayed.

  Now the last of the day’s light was nearly spent. She should harness Tin Star to the buggy and head home. Her mother would be putting dinner on the table. Her brothers and sisters would be needing help with schoolwork. Her father would be waiting.

  Standing up with a weariness that was unnatural for her twenty-two years, Lydia trudged back toward the front of the property, checking each cabin as she went.

  All twelve were locked and secure.

  All twelve were vacant.

  Perhaps this weekend Englisch tourists would return and provide some income for the owner, Elizabeth Troyer. Guests would also ensure that Lydia kept her job. If the cabins were to close, if she were to lose her employment, she wouldn’t be able to convince her oldest brother to stay in school. Their last conversation on the matter had turned into an argument—one she’d nearly lost.

  Pulling their old black gelding from the barn, she tied Tin Star’s lead rope to the hitching post, and then she began to work the collar up and over his ears.

  “You’re a gut boy. Are you ready to go home? Ready for some oats? I imagine you are.”

  He’d been their buggy horse since she was a child, and Lydia knew his days were numbered. What would her family do when he gave out on them? As she straightened his mane and made sure the collar pad protected his shoulders and neck, she paused to rest her cheek against his side. The horse’s sure steady breathing brought her a measure of comfort.

  Reaching into the pocket of her jacket, she brought out a handful of raisins. Tin Star’s lips on her hand were soft and wet. Lydia rubbed his neck, glanced back once more at the cluster of small buildings which had become like a small community to her—a community she was responsible for maintaining.

  Squaring her shoulders, she climbed into the buggy and turned toward home.

  Chapter 1

  Downtown Cashton

  Thursday afternoon, two weeks later

  Aaron Troyer stepped off the bus, careful to avoid a large puddle of rainwater. Because no one else was exiting at Cashton, he didn’t have to wait long for the driver to remove his single bag from the storage compartment. He’d thanked the man and shouldered the duffel when a buggy coming in the opposite direction hit an even bigger puddle, soaking him and his bag.

  The driver had managed to jump out of the way at the l
ast second.

  “Good luck to you, son.”

  With a nod the man was back on the bus, heading farther west. A part of Aaron wished he was riding with him. Another part longed to take the next bus back east, back where he’d come from, back to Indiana.

  Neither was going to happen, so he repositioned the wet duffel bag and surveyed his surroundings.

  Not much to Cashton.

  According to his uncle and his dad, the town was about the same size as Monroe, but Aaron couldn’t tell it. He supposed new places never did measure up to expectations, especially when a fellow would rather not be there.

  The ride had been interesting enough. They had crossed the northern part of Indiana, skirted the southern tip of Lake Michigan, traveled through Chicago and Rockford, and finally entered Wisconsin in the south central portion of the state. Aaron had seen more cities in the last twenty-four hours than he’d visited in his entire life, but those had been oddities to him. Something he would tell his family about once he was home, but nothing he would ever care to see again. But passing through the Hidden Valley region of southwestern Wisconsin—now that had caused him to sit up straighter and gaze out of the bus’s window.

  There had been an older Englisch couple sitting behind him. They’d had tourist brochures which they’d read aloud to each other. He’d caught the highlights as he’d tried to sleep.

  He heard them use the word “driftless.” The term apparently indicated a lack of glacial drift. His dat would laugh at that one. Not that he discounted all aspects of science, but he had his doubts regarding what was and wasn’t proven as far as the Ice Age.

  According to the couple’s brochure, Wildcat Mountain to the east of Cashton was teaming with wildlife and good hiking. Any other time he might be interested in that piece of information, but he wasn’t staying so it didn’t matter much to him.

  He also learned small towns in the Driftless Area were at risk of major flooding every fifty to one hundred years.

  Staring down at his damp pants, he wondered how much rain they’d had. How much rain were they expecting? He hoped he wouldn’t be around long enough to find out.

  Aaron glanced up and down the street. He saw a town hall, a tavern, a café, a general store, and a feed store. A larger building, probably three stories high, rose in the distance, but he had no desire to walk that far because it could be in the wrong direction. Already the sun was heading west, and he wanted to be at the cabins before dark.