Christmas Quilt : Quilts of Love Series (9781426778032)

by Chapman, Vannetta

  Annie sighed and continued stitching the binding to the quilting. It lay nicely, attaching the back of the quilt against the front. It provided an edge around the rows of Dutch children, safely tucking them together, binding them together.

  “I told you about our stories? The ones we told while we waited through the days and nights? The ones that went with the children?”

  “Ya. The stories matched the fruits of the spirit. That was a gut idea. It helped you both to focus on the blessings Gotte had in store rather than worry.” Samuel walked into the room and sat down across from her. “Smart thinking, Annie.”

  Shaking her head, Annie continued stitching the last row of binding, finishing what she had started so long ago, what she had intended to complete before Amos and Ben were born. “It wasn’t my idea though. It was Leah’s. Maybe Gotte whispered the idea to her. Ya?”

  “Maybe so.” Samuel’s voice was quiet and gentle, as it usually was.

  “Do you think stories can serve a purpose?”

  Samuel took his time answering. He waited until she had finished the last of the row, tied off her thread, and clipped it. “I believe anything can serve Gotte’s purpose. We know as much from the Word—whether it be an unwilling prophet, or a donkey, a whale, loaves and fishes . . .”

  “A quilt,” Annie whispered. “Or an infant.”

  “Indeed.”

  The babe within her moved again, poking an elbow or foot out. Annie reached for Samuel’s hand, placed it over her stomach. “I believe she has your feet!”

  Instead of laughing, he took the quilt from her hands, placed it on the table, and then pulled her into his lap.

  “I’m too big.”

  “You’re not.”

  “I am. I’ve gained three pounds this month.”

  “And I’m glad.”

  Annie laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, burrowing into his embrace.

  “I missed you.” When the tears began to fall, she didn’t try to explain them, didn’t attempt to stop them, but rather allowed herself a moment of complete openness.

  Instead of questioning her, Samuel unpinned her kapp, placed it beside the quilt and ran his fingers through her hair, loosening the curls. It seemed to Annie, as he brushed out her braid with his fingers, he also brushed away the last of the tension—the final fragments of worry she’d held inside. For a moment, she could rest and allow Samuel to care for her.

  She must have fallen asleep, because she woke later in her bed, the smell of dinner coming up the stairs.

  It was a simple meal. She’d started the stew earlier in the day, and Samuel had baked cornbread to go with it. Not fancy at all, but that dinner did more to heal her heart than a feast could have. Though they’d been back for two weeks, the evening healed the bruised places from her time away. A part of her mind realized she was exhausted and she’d be better very soon. Another part kept turning over the idea this was their last Christmas Eve alone. Next year it would be three at their table, and God willing, perhaps more in coming years.

  For this evening, with the candlelight in the window, her husband sitting across from her, and Leah’s finished quilt upstairs, ready to give, Annie knew the peace of Christmas.

  Leah sat in her living room, uncomfortable that she wasn’t helping clean up the dishes from their holiday meal—the meal they shared on Second Christmas, the day after the official Christmas celebration. Yesterday she and Adam had spent alone, reading the Scripture and enjoying the holiness of the day with their boys. Today was a day for family and for the giving of gifts.

  Then Ben began fussing and Jacob quickly handed him over. “I believe he wants you, mamm. Maybe it’s time to eat?”

  “Nein. Rocking him will settle him down. His dat has spoiled him already.”

  “Guilty,” Adam agreed from the checkerboard, where he was apparently losing to Zeke.

  “He’ll be free to rock the baby in a minute, Leah. He’s about to be beaten again.”

  Leah didn’t hear what Adam said in reply, but Zeke’s laughter was all she needed. It did her heart a good turn to see genuine smiles on the faces of Rachel’s boys. And was Onkel Eli the one to thank for that? She couldn’t be sure, but it would seem, from the attentiveness he paid to Rachel, possibly an announcement would be coming soon. Theirs wouldn’t be the first wedding plans to occur in this family around Christmas.

  “Such a small one,” Jacob was saying. “I believe I’ve caught bigger fish.”

  “Dat—” Charity’s voice rose in warning, but Leah quickly reassured them both.

  “Adam says the same. Though both boys are now well over six pounds.”

  “Six! It’s a miracle. That’s what it is.” Rebekah wiped her hands on a dish towel as she ushered Annie, Reba, and Rachel into the living room.

  How they’d managed to bring the Christmas meal to Leah and Adam’s house, plus serve it there when they barely had enough dishes for the two of them, Leah didn’t know. But they’d done it, and she was grateful. She hadn’t wanted to take Amos and Ben out in the snow, even if it was only a dusting and there was little wind. Doctor Kamal, Samuel, and Annie had all thought indoors was best for the first month, though having family in the room was fine as long as no one was sick.

  Leah looked around and realized that though she missed her parents, brothers, and sisters in Wisconsin, this was her family now, and they meant everything to her. They’d support her, Adam, and the boys through the months and years ahead.

  Adam’s gaze met hers, a smile playing on his lips. He did that a lot lately. It was as if he was looking for chances to show how much he cared. It caught her off guard sometimes. It reminded her of when they were courting, and she found herself taking extra time when she combed her hair or dressed in the morning. Now she found herself resting during the day so that she could have the energy to stay up and talk with Adam in the evening. Those moments with her husband were precious, and she was determined to guard them.

  “I believe it’s gift-giving time,” Jacob said, standing and using his cane for support.

  He looked slowly around the room, his eyes lingering on each one. Their numbers had grown this year, not only because of the two additional babes, but Trent was also included. He’d agreed to the terms set by the bishop. The year ahead would be difficult, but they would all pray for him and encourage him. If he made it through the adjustment period of leaving behind the technological advances he’d need to give up, then he and Reba could marry the following October.

  David was also there with Charity, which surprised no one. Perhaps the fall would include another double wedding—or even three if the things she’d heard about Rachel and Eli were true. From the way Rachel had softened, it seemed love could pass your way, even after you’d travelled quite a long distance down life’s road.

  Jacob cleared his throat and continued. “Let us not forget, as we give these gifts of love, the reason we give. On this day, so many years ago, Gotte shared His grace with each of us in Christ Jesus. This is why we celebrate.”

  Leah noticed a smile pass around the room between each person, like bread passed on a platter. Jacob never preached, but he always reminded. His was a kind and gentle guidance.

  “We are especially thankful this day for the gift of Amos and Ben. Each of you are responsible for praying for these precious kinner, and also for helping raise them, for children need an entire family, not merely a mamm and dat. They need onkels and aentis and cousins as well.”

  There was some laughter now as each person began whispering plans. Leah heard some of them, plans to teach her boys to fish or to ride a pony. She closed her eyes and heard their words, blessings upon her children, and they were better than any material gifts that might be given.

  Jacob held up his hands. “We will add at least one other before we meet for this Christmas celebration again.”

  Samuel stood behind Annie. He leaned forward and whispered something in her ear.

  “Perhaps more.” Jacob’s expression t
urned serious as he looked first toward Trent, then David, and finally Rachel. It would seem he knew well what was going on within his family. “Remember, pray for one another. We accept and believe prayers are mighty and powerful things. They are indeed.”

  Silence filled the room. Leah stared down into Ben’s face, perfectly formed, curly hair softly covering his head, and somber eyes that gazed at her with such trust. It was his brother, Amos, who broke the solemn moment with a rather loud burp.

  “Excuse us,” Adam said with a laugh.

  “You are excused.” Jacob grinned. “And now for the gifts.”

  Like Leah’s own family, the giving was simple, for each person had drawn a name the year before. Her sons, though, received small items from everyone there, and she found her heart filling with such gratitude that tears threatened once more. When Annie slipped her gift on top of the pile, Leah handed her Amos, and reached for the quilt.

  “You finished it!”

  “Ya. Added the binding and label on Christmas Eve.”

  “It’s beautiful, Annie.”

  They both stared down at the five Dutch boys, three girls, and the single heart—the nine gifts of the Spirit. Realizing it was futile to try to put all she was feeling into words, she stood and embraced her best friend.

  “I love you.”

  “And I you. Now, I’ll go place this on the crib while you open Adam’s gift.”

  Leah turned to her husband in surprise. They had no money for gift giving. She’d knitted him a scarf before she’d left for the hospital in Lewistown, but how had he . . .

  “All those nights I was alone, I needed, that is to say, I wanted something to do.” Adam sat beside her. “This was a way to put all my missing you into something constructive.”

  Leah accepted the large shopping bag and removed the tissue paper. Inside was a beautifully made flower box and three packages of seeds.

  “We’ll put it outside—”

  “The bedroom window. I asked you long ago.”

  “And I said there was no time to make such frivolous things, or to stand and watch the birds and butterflies that would come to it.” Adam ran his thumb over the back of her hand and it seemed for a moment it was only the two of them in the middle of their living room even though it was full of people. “I’d like to ask your forgiveness for that now.”

  “You don’t—”

  “But I do. I was wrong about that, as well as a few other things. It only takes a few minutes to look out a window, Leah. To appreciate what Gotte has given. It’s important to do so, and I thank you for teaching me as much.”

  She didn’t realize she was crying until he reached forward and brushed away her tears.

  From somewhere across the room Ben let out a howl, followed by laughter from their guests.

  “My son has healthy lungs, ya?”

  “He does, Adam.”

  Though the boys still had a little ways to go and would need to be watched closely for a few months, it was the best Christmas Leah ever had. When they’d cleaned up and everyone had left, she stood in the doorway, Adam’s arm around her waist, watching them drive away.

  It was amazing she didn’t feel even a little lonely. She felt as if she’d been covered in love. As they walked back into their living room, into their cozy small house with their two infant sons, she understood they’d make it through the next six months and the years after as well. They’d probably need to depend on their friends and family at some point. They’d certainly need to depend on their faith, on their God. And they’d learned they could depend on each other.

  It was as if she’d stepped into a dream and wakened to find it was her life. Perhaps not all perfect, certainly not all happiness and roses, but all as God intended. Which was enough to bring peace to her heart.

  Epilogue

  Late March

  Annie was grateful Samuel stayed near her side. Though she’d been through many births in the last several years, and certainly Leah’s had been the most traumatic, she was finding none of those compared to her own. Watching was one thing. Helping another. Giving birth herself? A different thing entirely.

  Samuel counted softly in her ear, in German, and she panted her breath out in rapid beats. Her world was Samuel, the child in her womb, and their room, which had become a sanctuary.

  “I believe we’re ready, Annie.”

  She focused on Belinda’s directions from the foot of the bed, clutched Samuel’s hand, and concentrated on the strength and love of the man at her side. She couldn’t have said if twenty minutes passed or an hour. There was daylight peeping through her bedroom curtains, and Belinda’s and Samuel’s caring hands on her skin.

  Then the pain ended as abruptly as it had begun. The midwife was laughing as she asked, “And what did you say you’d be naming the child?”

  “Bethany.” Samuel’s voice was solid and sure, and his kisses were as welcome as the cool rag he pressed to her face. “We’ve decided to call her Bethany, which means ‘Gotte’s disciple.’ ”

  “I know what the name means, Samuel. You’ll have to be saving it though. Today you will need a name for a boy.”

  “Nein.”

  “Ya. See for yourself.” Belinda set the infant on Annie’s stomach and handed Samuel the scissors.

  At that moment, Annie thought her heart might burst. Somehow, she managed to whisper, “Cut the cord quickly, Samuel.”

  Seeing her child, after all those months of feeling him moving inside her, she suddenly could not wait even one moment longer to hold him.

  “Ya, I’ll hurry.” Samuel’s voice was husky as Belinda clamped and he cut the cord that had bound their son to her, severing the lifeline that had provided his sustenance.

  Then Rebekah was there, wiping him clean, performing the APGAR test, and wrapping him first in a warm blanket and then in a quilt, one sewn by her hands and no doubt prayed over for many hours.

  “We didn’t even think of a boy’s name,” Annie whispered.

  “The Lord brought us together through your father, Annie. It would seem fitting . . .”

  They both stared down at the child her mother had placed in the crook of her arm. His head was covered with brown curly hair, more than it seemed an infant could have.

  “Jacob, we love you.” Annie kissed him at the same moment her husband kissed her. Laughter echoed in the hall as Rebekah shared the news.

  Annie’s eyes were incredibly heavy, and she struggled to keep them open after her long night of hard labor. She thought of Leah’s quilt and the nine fruits—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Her mind leafed through the nine stories of the nine precious children, like so many pages in a book—except this book was the story of their life.

  Now between them they’d received the gift of three boys who would grow up together in God’s grace.

  The promise of the Spirit’s fruits, the gift of life, and the certainty of God’s grace.

  Her last thought before falling into a restful sleep was that she had received more than a sixteen-year-old girl, driving away from Mifflin County on her rumspringa, could have ever dreamed.

  Glossary

  Aenti—aunt

  Boppli—baby

  Bopplin—babies

  Bruder—brother

  Dat—father

  Danki—thank you

  Englischer—non-Amish person

  Fraa—wife

  Freinden—friends

  Gem gschehne—you’re welcome

  Gotte—God

  Gotte’s wille—God’s will

  Grandkinner—grandchildren

  Gudemariye—good morning

  Gut—good

  In lieb—in love

  Kaffi—coffee

  Kapp—prayer covering

  Kind—child

  Kinner—children

  Mamm—mom

  Narrisch—crazy

  Nein—no

  Onkel—uncle

  Rumspringa�
�running around; time before an Amish young person has officially joined the church, which provides a bridge between childhood and adulthood.

  Schweschder—sister

  Was iss letz—what’s wrong

  Wunderbaar—wonderful

  Ya—yes

  Discussion Questions

  1. We learn in the first few pages Annie and Leah are expecting their first children. Annie’s pregnancy is going smoothly. Leah seems to be having more trouble—physically and emotionally. Why do you think this is? Does God love Leah less, or is there another reason people face tough times?

  2. Annie and Samuel help Mattie and Jesse when he is having a heart attack. Later Annie speaks to Samuel about the agony Mattie was going through while Jesse was hurting. Go back to chapter four and read Samuel’s reply. He compares two hearts to two vines growing side by side. Is this a good analogy, and if so, why?

  3. In chapter six, Jacob says, “When a thing is broken inside a person, way down deep inside, it can become infected. It can affect everything else—like the infection in my leg affected my entire body. Like the dirt in the engines you fix affect the entire machine. Until the person allows the Lord to see their deepest needs, their deepest fears, they’re likely to limp along.” What sorts of things do we try to hide, from others and the Lord? How does this hinder our health both spiritually and physically?

  4. In chapter nine, Annie first hears Leah is in labor. She’s worried about early delivery and what the babies will weigh. Samuel’s response calms her. He reminds her of God’s sovereignty and God’s care. When have you needed to be reminded of this?

  5. In chapter twelve, Leah wakes in a different room, a different hospital, completely disoriented. Though she doesn’t understand all that has happened, she begins to pray, and she begins with a prayer of thanksgiving. How can prayer help steady us emotionally and physically?

  6. In chapter fourteen, Adam and Leah share Habakkuk 3:19—not a book from the Bible that we read often, but it is what Adam found to ease her worries. What portions of the Bible have been a comfort to you in times of trial?