The Beloved Christmas Quilt

by Brunstetter, Wanda E. ; Brunstetter, Jean; Brunstetter, Richelle

  “Your mamma is a little tired still, and she needs her rest.”

  With no more questions, Daryl stretched out each arm while Luella slipped his jacket on, then put her heavy woolen shawl around her shoulders.

  As they stepped off the porch, Luella stopped. In certain spots, sunlight glistened on the grass, making dewdrops sparkle like tiny diamonds. But in other shaded areas, yet untouched by the warmth of the afternoon sun, frosty patterns coated the still-frozen blades of grass. Luella was glad they both wore heavier attire, as she blew air from her mouth and watched the vapor dissolve into the cold, nippy air.

  “Schnee! Schnee!” Daryl pointed to the thin layer of sparkling ice lingering on the trees in the Zooks’ backyard.

  “No, Daryl, it’s frost, not snow,” Luella said in Pennsylvania Dutch. At the age of four, he was still too young to understand most English words, but that would change when he turned six and went to school.

  The boy tipped his auburn head back, looked up at her curiously, and repeated the word schnee.

  She didn’t correct him this time. He’d learn the difference between snow and frost eventually. As chilly as it was, all too soon Daryl would be correct in yelling, “Schnee.”

  Luella watched as the young lad ran through the yard, making a matted-down trail in the frost as he went. While Daryl was content amusing himself, she turned and looked back at the large, five-bedroom house. How exciting it must have been when the Zooks were first married and moved into this place.

  She wiped the tears that had escaped her eyes. No doubt they’d planned for a big family with plenty of children to fill all those bedrooms—hopes and dreams that would never be fulfilled.

  Continuing to study the house, Luella couldn’t help noticing all the beautiful shrubbery planted here and there. In between the bushes, and along the fence line surrounding their property, were remnants of late summer and autumn flowers, now blackened or lifeless by the brutal cold frost. Dena must have felt such joy when planting those flowers and watching them bloom, adding color to the landscape. Tending the house, cooking, cleaning, and taking care of her husband and son—it would be hard to give it all up.

  As Luella looked around the rest of the property toward the barn, and then back to Daryl, the ache inside her grew deeper, knowing what all three of these good people would be losing. It was a horrible situation, no matter from whose perspective she looked at it. Dena was losing out on all the hopes and dreams she would have shared growing old with her husband.

  I can’t even think what will happen to Atlee and Daryl once Dena is gone. Will Atlee stay here, or will it be too hard to be reminded daily of the precious memories he and Dena made inside and outside this home? Will this land and house be too big for just him and his son?

  Luella knew when the time came, only Atlee could decide what would work best for him and the boy. Oh, how her heart ached for them, though.

  Startling Luella out of her thoughts, Daryl ran up to her and pointed to the frosty designs in the grass. “Look what I did.” He giggled as the sun went behind a cloud.

  “Now that is quite pretty, isn’t it?” Luella had to chuckle at Daryl’s pleasure, even with the foreboding going through her mind. Taking a deep breath, she reached for the boy’s hand. “Why don’t we go for a walk?”

  “Daadi! Daadi!” Daryl pointed across the way to his father’s woodshop.

  Atlee would be busy, but to deny his son the right to say hello wouldn’t be right, either. “Okay, we’ll go see your daddy. But only for a little while, because he has work to do.”

  Luella thought about the shoofly pie Atlee had eaten for breakfast this morning, and wondered if he’d like another piece. Or maybe he would enjoy some of the apple butter bars she’d brought from home.

  “Let’s go inside for a minute and get a treat for your daed.” She guided Daryl toward the house. “Would you like some dessert, Daryl?”

  The boy’s round face broke into a wide smile as he bobbed his head. “Kichlin.”

  She smiled. They weren’t cookies, but it was all the same to Daryl. Maybe along with the bars, I’ll take a Thermos of coffee out to Atlee.

  Atlee’s stomach growled. It had only been a few hours since lunch, but for some reason he was hungry. Guess I should have had a second sandwich when Luella offered it to me. That’s what I get for bein’ polite. Atlee appreciated Luella’s willingness to help out. Of course, she was being paid for her work. But he had a hunch the young woman would have done it without any pay.

  It amazed him how quickly his wife and her caregiver had become friends. Even though they were more than ten years apart, Dena and Luella always seemed to have something to talk about. In addition to keeping Dena company and Daryl entertained, Luella was an excellent cook, and they were all well fed. She also did the laundry, cleaning, and other household chores, all without the slightest complaint. Luella was patient and kind, and most always had a smile on her face. Hiring Luella had been the best medicine he could have given his precious Dena.

  When the door to his shop opened, Atlee’s musings came to a halt. Seeing Luella and Daryl come in, he dropped what he was doing and went over to greet them.

  “Daryl wanted to visit his daadi,” Luella explained. She held out the plate, along with Atlee’s old Thermos. “And I thought you might enjoy these apple butter bars and some coffee.”

  Grinning, he ruffled his son’s wavy hair. “You bet I would.”

  Daryl stood close to Atlee. While the two of them ate their share, Luella remained off to one side, watching them.

  “Aren’t you gonna join us?” Atlee gestured to a chair near his workbench. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

  “I ate a bar before we came out of the house.”

  “Well, there’s no reason you can’t have another. After all, you’re the one who made them.”

  A light in Luella’s blue eyes shone when she smiled and nodded. “True. All right, I’ll eat another one, but then Daryl and I need to go back in the house so I can check on Dena.”

  “How’s she doing this afternoon?” He poured himself some coffee and waited for her reply.

  “Dena seems quite tired today. She was sleeping when I left her.”

  Atlee gave his full beard a tug. “She didn’t sleep well last night, so I told her to stay in bed today.”

  “Jah, that’s what Dena said.”

  He set his coffee down and crossed his arms. “My wife would like to be up and around, doing all the things she used to do, but she’s not up for that anymore.” He paused, reaching around to rub a sore spot on his lower back. “I don’t know how we’ll get along without Dena. This may be our last Christmas together.” He paused, and glanced down at Daryl, glad his son couldn’t understand much English yet.

  “You mustn’t think that.” Luella tipped her blond head to one side. “Your wife may be here for a good many months yet.”

  Atlee groaned. “I hope so, Luella. Jah, I truly do. If only God would give us a Christmas miracle.”

  Back in the house, Luella put Daryl down for a nap. He didn’t want to rest, of course, but after she read him a story, he fell asleep on the sofa. Now it was time to see how Daryl’s mother was doing.

  Luella peeked through the small opening in Dena’s door and was surprised to see her sitting up in bed. She poked her head into the room. “I see you’re awake now. Would you like some dessert and hot chocolate?”

  “Maybe after a while.” Dena glanced toward the door. “Where’s Daryl?”

  “He’s asleep on the living-room sofa.”

  “I’m glad. Some kinner his age don’t take naps anymore, but my son does better when he’s had one.” Dena offered Luella a weak smile. “He will be in a good mood during supper.”

  “Would you like to get up for a bit, and sit in your rocking chair?” Luella asked.

  “Maybe later. Right now, I need to talk to you about something.”

  Luella felt concern, seeing Dena’s serious expression. “What is it?”
Biting her lip, she pulled the rocking chair next to the bed.

  Dena picked up one corner of the lovely quilt on her bed and held it close to her heart. “The pattern for this is called ‘Country Patch,’ but I call it my beloved Christmas quilt, because my mother, who made the covering, gave it to me and Atlee for Christmas the first year we were married.”

  “It is a lovely quilt. Your mamm was a talented quilter.”

  Dena got a faraway look in her eyes. “Jah, she certainly was. I miss my mamm and wish she was still alive to take care of Daryl when I’m gone.”

  Luella’s throat felt swollen, and it was difficult to swallow. She wished Dena would stop talking about her imminent death.

  “Would you do me a favor, Luella?”

  “Jah. What do you need?”

  “I’d like you to take this quilt home with you, as an early Christmas present.”

  “Ach, no, I could never accept such a gift.” Luella’s fingers touched her parted lips. “It should remain in your family; especially with it being a present from your mother. Besides, it’s not even Christmas yet.”

  Dena shook her head. “I may not be here to give it to you on Christmas Day. Please, Luella, I want you to have this beloved quilt. It would mean a lot to me, knowing you will someday pass the quilt on to your eldest daughter.”

  “But I’m not even married, and I may never find a husband, so really, you should reconsider.”

  Dena shook her head. “I have no sisters, and since my parents have both passed on, I have no family to give the quilt to. Please, Luella, I insist that you take it.”

  “Oh, okay. Danki, Dena. I will treasure it always.”

  Dena breathed in and out slowly. “I have another favor to ask.”

  Luella was hesitant to even ask what. She hoped her dear friend didn’t want to give her some other family heirloom. “What other favor?”

  “I want you to promise that after I’m gone, you will take care of Atlee and Daryl.”

  “Well, of course, I will come over and check on them regularly, but I really wish you wouldn’t talk of such things.”

  “It’s important that I say all this now.” Dena stroked the quilt lovingly. “My son will still need someone to care for him while Atlee’s working in his shop. And Atlee—well, he’s not good in the kitchen, and he won’t have time to clean house or do laundry. Won’t you please agree to keep working for him after I’m gone, as you are now? It would give me a sense of peace to know that my family will be taken care of after I die.”

  Luella had to force a smile as she nodded and said, “Jah, Dena, I will take care of the household and watch your son.”

  “Be a friend to Atlee, too.” Dena lowered her head. “Please… I know it won’t be easy for him, but he will need someone to talk to.”

  Luella squeezed her friend’s hand. “Jah, Dena, I will.”

  “My husband is trying to stay strong for me and our son, but I feel his sadness and the concern he has for me.” Tears welled up in Dena’s dark eyes as she released a sigh. “Danki, Luella. This means so much to me. I feel such a relief knowing you’ll be here for them.”

  Although she kept her thoughts to herself, Luella realized the decision of whether she would continue to work here or not would be up to Dena’s husband. She would only be able to keep her promise to Dena if Atlee agreed.

  CHAPTER 3

  Tears stung Atlee’s eyes as he stood beside his wife’s simple coffin, made of poplar wood. Staring at her lifeless body, he swallowed several times, hoping for some sort of control. The last thing he needed was to break down in front of his son. He had to be strong, if only for Daryl’s sake, but oh, he couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his days without the love of his life. Dena was only thirty-five—just three years younger than him. She was too young to die. His beautiful wife should have had many good years ahead of her. It was hard not to feel bitter, even in his state of shock.

  Since Dena’s passing, Atlee had felt like he was in a fog, unable to think clearly or even process his thoughts. It was almost as though he were walking through a long dark tunnel with no end.

  Dena had breathed her last breath three days ago, but the truth of it hadn’t fully set in until her funeral service today. It simply didn’t seem possible that his precious wife was gone, and yet here he stood, viewing her body one final time. Soon, the lid on her coffin would be screwed down, and then Atlee, along with all the other mourners who’d come to pay their respects, would follow the enclosed, horse-drawn hearse to the Amish cemetery for the graveside service.

  Dena’s funeral service had been a somber occasion, as two ministers spoke, offering various scriptures about death and the resurrection of the dead. The event concluded with a reading of Dena’s obituary, followed by the closing prayer and benediction.

  Atlee glanced back at his son, who stood with his uncles—Dena’s two brothers from Ephrata. They lived thirty minutes from Bird-in-Hand, and over the years had come to visit with their wives and children for special occasions and other family gatherings. Daryl was used to his uncles and enjoyed being around them. Atlee appreciated them keeping his son by them right now, as he struggled to keep his emotions in check.

  Just as his parents approached their daughter-in-law’s casket, Atlee reached out to touch his wife’s white cape and apron. They were the same ones she had worn the day they were married. It seemed like only yesterday, instead of eight years ago that their wedding took place. They’d been disappointed during those first few years of marriage when Dena did not get pregnant. They’d both wanted children and had purchased a house large enough for a growing family. Then, when they’d all but given up hope, God gave them a son. How happy they were when Daryl was born. But a year later, they’d learned that Dena’s heart had been weakened because of having rheumatic fever as a girl. The doctor advised them not to have any more children, as childbirth would be a strain on Dena’s heart. They’d known even then that she might not have long to live, but Dena kept a positive attitude and enjoyed the time she’d been given with Atlee and their son.

  Atlee’s mother, who’d been stricken with Parkinson’s disease seven years ago, reached out a shaky hand and touched his arm. “I—I wish I could trade places with Dena. I wish God had taken me and given your fraa a new heart.”

  Before Atlee could form a response, his father stepped forward. “I’m sure you mean well, but you must not talk that way, Sadie. Your purpose on earth isn’t over, and we are not to question God. Everyone has an appointment with death, and this was Dena’s time.”

  Was it? Atlee swallowed against the burning sensation in his throat, trying to come to grips with Dad’s statement. The Bible clearly stated that everyone had an appointed time to die, but didn’t God sometimes change His mind and allow a person to live when someone prayed hard enough for them? Well, maybe not. Perhaps it was futile to pray and plead with God on someone’s behalf. When a person’s time was up, that was it—plain and simple.

  Atlee rocked back and forth on his heels, remembering his and Dena’s last conversation, the day before she died. Dena had told Atlee she’d given Luella her Country Patch quilt as a Christmas present. At first, it hurt him to know she’d given it to someone outside their family, but then he reasoned that there would be no daughter to pass the heirloom on to, and the quilt was Dena’s, to do with as she chose. Of course, if Dena hadn’t given the quilt away, Atlee would have saved it to give to Daryl’s wife when he got married someday. Guess it’s too late to worry about that. What’s done is done. Besides, Luella might appreciate having the quilt more than anyone else, and it will be something she can have to help her remember Dena and the friendship they once shared.

  Atlee shuddered, reflecting on his wife’s final request, as she lay gasping for air. Dena had made him promise to take another wife after she was gone. He could still hear her pleading words: “Daryl will need a mudder, and you’ll need a fraa. Please don’t close yourself off to the idea, Husband.”

  Another
wife? Atlee shook his head. No one could ever replace my sweet fraa. I wish she hadn’t asked that of me. Don’t see how I can keep such a promise. The only woman I will ever love is Dena. If I married again, it would only be for convenience’s sake.

  Luella shivered against the cold as she stood beside her parents inside the cemetery enclosure, watching two of Atlee’s cousins, who’d been asked to be pallbearers, shovel dirt into the grave. When they became tired, two other pallbearers took over.

  As gray clouds, shot through with glimpses of blue, drifted overhead, a chilly wind blew the remaining leaves off the trees outside the cemetery. It seemed the weather was undecided what to do, but at least the rain that had been forecast for today held off. Being wet and cold would not be a good combination for the mourners at Dena’s grave.

  It was difficult to watch young Daryl standing beside his father as the boy’s mother was laid to rest. What a brave little lad he was today, shivering and holding hands with his father. Atlee should be pleased with his son, as he stood as tall as his little frame would allow.

  Luella’s feet remained firmly planted, although she struggled with the desire to go to the trembling child and wrap him in her arms. But that would be inappropriate. She would comfort Daryl once they were back at Atlee’s house, where a simple meal would be served.

  Luella tried to concentrate on the words of the hymn their bishop had begun to read when the grave became half full of dirt. Following their usual custom, he would continue to read until the job had been finished.

  At the conclusion of the graveside service, the bishop asked the congregation to pray the Lord’s Prayer silently. Luella bowed her head, along with the others. Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: for thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever. Amen.