Little Wild Flower Book Two

by Samantha Jillian Bayarr

  “Oh God, please breathe life back into my baby,” I cried.

  Fear took over me so immeasurably; I worried I might lose consciousness.

  At long last, he let out a weak sigh and a raspy-sounding whimper emanated from his lips. Tears of immediate joy poured from my entire being, as I grabbed for my husband’s hand. Simon didn’t cry any further, and he didn’t wake up either. I watched the team of doctors as they examined the baby more closely, wondering what they were looking for.

  “Your son still seems to be in a coma, but he is breathing on his own,” Doctor Westfield stated harshly.

  “What will happen now,” Elijah asked.

  “We’ll keep monitoring him and continue his heart medication,” cut in Doctor Connor.

  “If he doesn’t come out of the coma within the next twenty-four hours, we’ll have to run further tests,” said Doctor Westfield firmly.

  “If the good Lord sees fit, he’ll wake up. But only in His timing,” Elijah said humbly.

  Doctor Westfield scoffed at Elijah, then, stormed out of the room ahead of his colleagues.

  “That poor man is going to have to see a genuine miracle in order for him to believe,” said Doctor Stuart.

  The remaining doctors agreed. I supposed they had endured a lot of bitterness from him over the years, which made me wonder why he continued to be a doctor, since he seemed to despise the work that he did.

  “I believe we’ve just seen one,” I whispered.

  “Sometimes we see patients wake up if family members talk to them or sing to them. You might give it a try,” said Doctor Anderson.

  “You seem to have a fighter on your hands,” said Doctor Ainsley. “He has a good chance to recover now that he’s breathing on his own.”

  Elijah thanked the men with a firm handshake, and they left us alone with Simon. We walked over to the bed that he lay on, and Elijah began to sing to him in German. I didn’t recognize the tune, but his voice sounded so soothing.

  “What’s that song you were singing?” I asked when he was finished.

  “It’s a lullaby that Mam sang to each of us when we were babies.”

  “How come I’ve never heard you sing it before?”

  “Strange as it seems, I don’t think I remembered it until just now—like the Lord just brought it to my mind.”

  “It’s lovely, will you teach it to me?” I asked him.

  He began the song again, singing it slowly enough that I could hear his pronunciation of each word. I repeated it with him, one sentence at a time. After three tries, I had the words memorized. Our voices sounded so beautiful together, I didn’t want to stop.

  “What do the words mean?” I asked.

  “I don’t know if I know all the words. Papa never taught me as much of the German as he taught Rebekah. I’ll ask Mam what the words are in English so we can sing it both ways for him,” Elijah said as he hugged me.

  ****

  The following morning, Elijah presented me with a piece of aged paper with writing and scribbling on it.

  “These are the words to Mam’s lullaby,” Elijah said softly, so as not to disturb the nurse’s monitoring of Simon’s care.

  I read through the words on the paper that Elijah handed me.

  I will sing to my baby all the day long,

  Rocking you gently, singing my song.

  I’ll sing through the day and all through the night,

  Whispering softly, all tucked in just right.

  I’ll sing you a lullaby – sing you to sleep,

  And love you as much as the ocean is deep.

  My song says I love you ever so much,

  From the depths of my heart, only you can touch.

  I’ll soothe every tear you will ever shed,

  As I sing you this lullaby and tuck you in bed.

  “Why does it rhyme in English if it’s sung in German?” I asked.

  “Mam wrote it as a poem in English, but converted it to German because she thought the tune sounded better with the German words instead of the English,” he said.

  “She’s right. It is beautiful. Thanks for teaching it to me. Your mam is a good writer.”

  “She’ll be so happy to hear that you liked her song,” he said.

  “I’d like to tell her myself,”

  “That would make her happy.”

  “Will our parents be coming later today?” I asked.

  “Eli wanted to come with me, but I was firm with him and made him go to school. They’ll be up here later, including Nadine, Rebekah and Hannah,” Elijah said happily.

  My heart fluttered at the thought of seeing my family with their healthy new babies, but I knew I would have to face them sooner or later.

  If only God would answer the rest of my prayers.

  Elijah went for a cup of coffee in the lounge, so I asked Mrs. Jones if I could hold Simon. I hadn’t been able to hold him for several days. With the mass of equipment that had been attached to him, it was impossible to get too near him. Now that the bulk of it had been removed, I wanted to cuddle my baby in my lonely arms.

  Mrs. Jones assisted me with the heart monitor wires and the splint that protected his I-V. It felt good to hold him, but I longed to nurse him. Unfortunately, I was still using the breast pump, and my milk was being put in Simon’s feeding tube. It was such an unnatural way for him to get nutrition, but I was happy that I was providing it for him.

  I began to sing the lullaby to him as I rocked him back and forth in the stiff chair. Before I was through, Elijah entered the room and joined in, then, we sang it again. Simon shifted himself in my arms, and whimpered a little. Elijah and I looked at each other, then, looked at Nurse Jones. She came over to the chair and shined a small flashlight into Simon’s eyes. His eyes followed the light, and she seemed excited about it, but left the room.

  I jostled the infant in my arms, trying to get him to wake and open his eyes. Suddenly, he curved his back to stretch, then, opened his blue eyes. Elijah knelt down beside me and looked at his son with tears in his eyes.

  “Thank you Lord,” we both whispered at the same time through our tears.

  By the time the nurse came back with Doctor Westfield, Simon was fully awake and crying heartily. The doctor stood back with a look of amazement at what he witnessed when he entered the room. Elijah and I just smiled at each other knowingly.

  ****

  For the remainder of Simon’s hospital stay, Doctor Westfield made every effort to accommodate us as politely as he could. He even humbled himself and made several inquiries of Elijah about the miracle that took place for our son. Elijah took full advantage of the opportunity to witness to the large, skeptical man. I even thought that I overheard Elijah inviting him out to our farm for dinner when he had the chance. Elijah later confirmed that he’d given the doctor an open invitation to attend dinner, giving him the address and stating our usual mealtime. Neither of us expected to ever see him at our dinner table, but I knew Elijah had planted a seed of hope in the man before we left the hospital.

  ****

  The day we brought Simon home from the hospital was the beginning of getting life back to normal on the farm. Before long, we settled into our routine as though we’d never suffered the tragedy. The hospital had loaned us a heart monitor that we would use for him while he slept. My father brought over two extension cords so we could place the monitor wherever we were in the house, while it plugged into the outlet in the laundry room. That gave us both peace of mind. The medicine that he was on kept his heart rate stable, but it also caused him to sleep a lot.

  Over the months that followed, Simon grew strong, but he didn’t begin crawling as early as our other two children had. Doctor Beiler claimed that it was due to the late start that he had in life. He’d been such a frail baby that he didn’t gain the strength as soon as he normally might have, had he not been sick.

  The very day Simon learned to walk, I discovered I was once again with child. Feelings of panic came over me at first, as I rem
embered the ordeal we had endured with Simon, but I quickly recalled the miracle that God had blessed us with. I was grateful that Simon was already fifteen months old, and no longer ill.

  ****

  One good, long look in the mirror told me just what I didn’t want to know—I was growing older. The entire time spent watching my children grow had helped to camouflage the obvious to everyone but me. For a while, I’d managed to fool myself into thinking that I was the same silly schoolgirl that Elijah had married seven years before. Now as I stood before the mirror studying my reflection, I felt concern rise up in me. With it being my little sister’s wedding day, I was beginning to feel my life catch up with me. Even Lucy had begun to have eyes for Nathan Miller, Miriam Miller’s younger brother.

  Elijah came in the bathroom and stood behind me to trim his beard. I knew we would arrive late at the church if I didn’t get out of his way, but I remained in the same spot I had already been in for nearly twenty minutes.

  “Why are you staring so hard in that mirror, Jane?” Elijah inquired.

  “Do I look old to you?”

  “Jane, you look more beautiful every day that I see you,” he said as he kissed my cheek.

  “But don’t you think I look old?” I persisted.

  “No matter how old you get, I’ll always be one year older than you, my darling wife. Don’t fret so much about age, and enjoy each day as God sees fit to bless you with it.”

  He put his arms around my swelling abdomen, and kissed my neck softly.

  “Is it the children that are making you feel old?” he asked quietly.

  “No, of course not. I’m happy that we’re having another baby. It’s the small wrinkles that I see in the mirror every morning that make me feel so uneasy. Although I do think Simon’s illness wore me down some, but I’m glad that it’s finally over,” I admitted.

  I knew that my remarks were about vanity—something that is frowned upon in the Amish sector, but I’d grown up thinking differently about aging and appearance than my husband had, so he didn’t comment. Instead, he listened to my ranting as always, then, used subject changes to distract me.

  “What names have you picked out for our new little one?” he asked cheerfully.

  “I think I like the name Jakob—spelled with a “k” instead of a “c”. I haven’t thought of a girl’s name because I haven’t had the notion that this one was anything but a rambunctious boy.” I smiled, running my hand over the kicking child within me.

  “Why not spell it the way everyone else spells it? Won’t it be difficult for him to always correct everyone when they spell it wrong?” He sounded concerned.

  “I wanted to call him Jake for a nickname so he would almost be named after my daddy since his name is Jack. I think that’s pretty close to his name,” I said.

  “He’ll be proud,” Elijah said with a smile.

  ****

  Surprisingly, we arrived at the church early; a little before Rachel’s wedding was to begin. I caught up with my father so I could tell him the news.

  “You mean you want to have a boy, and you're gonna call him Jack?” he asked.

  “Not exactly. If it is a boy, I want to call him Jake, which will be short for Jakob. But I’m gonna spell it with a “k” instead of a “c”,” I tried explaining.

  “That’s how the Jew’s spell Jakob,” he said.

  “So! I like it that way, don’t you?” I asked nervously.

  “I like it, but there’s something that you ought to know,” he said seriously.

  “What’s the matter Daddy? Why do you look so serious?”

  “I guess I owe my children an apology about something.”

  I looked at him with concern showing on my face.

  He continued hesitantly.

  “I spent so many years being prejudice that I kept something from you, and I’m ashamed.”

  “What?”

  I didn’t feel that I could wait any longer for the punch line, so I blurted out a guess.

  “Don’t tell me—we’re Jewish,” I said jokingly.

  He hung his head with shame.

  “I’m ashamed to admit that I kept such a thing from you, but you're right. I have Jewish blood from my mother’s side of the family,” he admitted.

  “You’ve gotta be kidding. I can’t be an Amish Jew!” I said loudly.

  “It’s crazier than that, Jane. You're a German Jew!” he said.

  I didn’t find his statement amusing. I was angry that he’d hidden such an important thing from my siblings and me because of his bitterness. Then I took in a deep breath and remembered that it was in the past, and I needed to forgive him. Unfortunately, I wasn’t sure I was ready to at that moment. I wanted to talk to Elijah and see how he felt about the situation before I thought about it any further. For the time being, I took my seat quietly with my husband and waited for the services to begin.

  Even though I had a tough time coming to terms with Rachel getting married, my mind was on the bomb that my father had dropped in my lap before the wedding. After we exited the church, I pulled Nadine aside and told her what dad had said to me. She wasn’t surprised like I had thought she would be.

  “Mitchell found Dad’s family tree study about four years ago. I thought you knew,” she said.

  Why am I always the last to know everything?

  “How is it that you both knew and you never told me?” I scolded her.

  “I guess we never thought it was that important. Does it bother you?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure how I feel about it, but I suppose it doesn’t make any difference. I am the same person I was before I knew. Only difference is—now I know. I suppose it should make me proud. After all, Jesus was a Jew,” I said.

  Making that statement made me realize that nothing had changed at all, and I was indeed the same person. I’d never felt prejudice, but my father tried in the past to push his bitterness on us as we were growing up. I remembered having a friend when I was in fourth grade, who was a little darker skinned than we were, and how angry my father had gotten with me for bringing her home. At the time I didn’t understand what could be so wrong with the girl, but when I got a little older, the reality of his prejudice hit me quite painfully. I didn’t like the fact that my father had been prejudiced against everyone that wasn’t exactly the same as we were. My heart lightened with relief as I remembered that he was no longer that way.

  ****

  At Simon’s second birthday party, I began to feel the first twinges of labor. Monday had been Simon’s actual birthday, and I was grateful that we only had birthday gatherings on Saturdays. I didn’t let on to Elijah that I was in labor until all our family and friends left. Hannah and my mother had guessed, so I asked them to come back in an hour or so after I had a chance to put the children to bed.

  My labor didn’t last long but pushing was a lengthy process. He was a big boy—nearly nine pounds, Doctor Beiler said. He and my mother barely made it in time for the birth because my labor went so fast.

  When Jakob arrived, Elijah was pleased to have another son, and I was happy that his birth was, for the most part, uneventful. His head was covered with reddish-orange hair, so I nicknamed him “pumpkin’ head”. Elijah wasn’t amused by it, but I continued to use the name until a thick layer of dark blonde hair grew in to replace the carrot-top.

  ****

  By the time Jakob was nine months old, I discovered that I was expecting our fifth child. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, having barely caught my breath after having Jakob, but I secretly hoped for another daughter. Abigail eagerly hoped that she would have a sister. She was beginning to feel quite intimidated, having three brothers already.

  ****

  One cold night in March, Elijah sat me down after the children were in bed. He wanted to discuss with me a few matters dealing with our farm.

  “I’d like to add another fifty head of cattle to the fifty that we already have. It’ll take the use of a hired hand,” he informed me.r />
  “Won’t that be a tough thing to do since most of the working-age boys are needed at their own farms?” I asked.

  “Jah it is tough, but I inquired about it last time I was at the auction in Shipshewana, and it turns out that there’s a young man in Middlebury who is related to Dr. Beiler, looking for work. If I remember correctly, his name is Seth.”

  “Have you met him yet?”

  “Jah, I met him briefly at Forks General Store yesterday when I went into town. I mentioned that I might be interested in hiring him, so he offered to come out to our place on Friday.”