“Holly!” Rachel exclaimed in horror.
“Go to your room!” Lydia barked at Holly. “Do not come down until you can repent and ask forgiveness.” Then Lydia turned away and marched off toward the kitchen.
Rachel was dumbstruck, but she took Holly by the hand and solemnly led her upstairs. Once they were behind closed doors, she asked Holly why she’d done that. “Because she is mean,” Holly said in a trembling voice. “I don’t like her.”
“But you know better than to talk like that—to anyone.”
“I know.” Holly sighed. “It just came out of me.”
“You’ll have to say you’re sorry.”
“I’m not sorry.”
“Well, stay up here and think about it, Holly. Maybe you’ll start to feel sorry.”
“Where are you going?”
“To talk to Aunt Lydia . . . to see if I can help smooth this over.” She almost added “before I go home,” but she didn’t want to send Holly over another emotional ledge.
Rachel looked around the house, which had settled back into a subdued sense of festiveness, but Lydia seemed to have disappeared.
“She’s probably in the barn,” Benjamin whispered in Rachel’s ear. So Rachel went out through the kitchen and across to the barn, and discovered he was right. Lydia was stewing out in the same stall where Buttercup had struggled to give birth not long ago.
“Holly will apologize to you,” Rachel told Lydia as she approached the stony-looking figure. With her arms folded tightly around her middle and feet planted apart, Lydia reminded Rachel of how Holly acted when she wanted her way.
“I know she will.” Lydia turned her back to Rachel, facing the wall. “You do not need to tell me that.”
“It’s just that she needs some time.”
“I know that too,” she snapped.
“She’s been through a lot.” Rachel wasn’t ready to give up. “And she’s got a lot of adjusting to do. I just hope you can be patient with her.”
Lydia whirled around. “I am a very patient woman.”
Rachel tried not to look too skeptical, but she held her tongue.
“This is not easy for me. Holly is a very stubborn child.”
“Holly is perfectly normal—for a seven-year-old who’s been through a lot.”
“She is spoiled—just like her mother was spoiled.”
Rachel took in a sharp breath. “Please, do not speak like that about Miri.”
“Miriam was my sister. I will speak as I like about her. She was spoiled and Holly is spoiled. They are two of a kind.”
“How can you be so hateful—not only to a little girl, but to someone who is dead?” Rachel asked.
“Hateful?” Lydia looked stunned. “I loved Miriam. But she hurt me deeply. I never thought she would leave us like she—”
“Really?” It was Benjamin’s voice. “Sorry to intrude, but I followed Rachel out here, and now I want to put in my two cents.” He came over to stand by Rachel in front of the stall. “After all, Miriam was my sister and Holly is my niece. Shouldn’t I have a voice in this too, Lydia?”
Lydia glowered at him. “You? Look at yourself, Benjamin Schrock! You do not even know how to dress proper. Why should I listen to you?”
“Because I know what’s troubling you, Lydia.” His voice grew gentler now. “I know how you blame yourself that Miriam left like she did. Maybe you even blame yourself for her death.”
Lydia’s brow creased and she tightened her folded arms around her middle, as if trying to pull into herself.
“You see, Daniel was in love with Miriam,” he explained to Rachel. “It was a long time ago and some people may have forgotten, but everyone in this family knew about it.”
“Ja, that is true. Daniel did love Miriam, but Miriam did not love Daniel.” Lydia held her chin up.
“That’s right.” Benjamin nodded. “But Miriam was willing to marry Daniel,” he told Rachel. “When Daed pressured her, Miriam was about to cave.” He turned to Lydia. “But who discouraged her to marry? Who encouraged her to leave the settlement? Who gave her some money to get her started out in the English world?”
Lydia said nothing, but it was clear that she didn’t like hearing those words.
Benjamin moved close to Lydia now, putting an arm around her shoulders. “And I don’t hold it against you, Lydia. I think it was the kindest thing you could’ve done for our sister. We both know she never would’ve been happy here. She didn’t fit in. She didn’t want to. You gave her the wings to fly.”
Lydia’s stony countenance crumbled and she fell sobbing onto Benjamin’s shoulder. “But now she is gone—and it is my fault she can never come back. It is my fault, Benjamin. I made her leave. I did. I did.”
Rachel went over and put an arm around Lydia. “It’s no more your fault than it is mine, Lydia. And sometimes I blame myself for both their deaths—my brother and your sister.”
Lydia looked at her with moist eyes. “You do?”
She nodded. “When Michael told me his plans to take Miri to the Caribbean for their anniversary, I thought it was a bad idea. I had this strong innate sense that they shouldn’t go. But I said nothing. Instead I offered to stay with Holly. And then they both died. Do you know how that makes me feel?”
“Guilty?”
Rachel nodded. “But Miri and Michael were adults. They made their own choices, and like Benjamin said, Miri would never have been happy here. You gave her the freedom to leave, Lydia. She lived a very fulfilled life. She loved her husband and she loved Holly.”
“Did she love God?” Lydia’s brow creased in worry.
“I believe she did,” Rachel assured her. “We talked about faith sometimes. She went to church occasionally. People live out their beliefs in different ways, but I’m convinced that both my brother and your sister are with God now.”
Lydia looked relieved.
“So you have to stop blaming yourself for Miriam,” Benjamin told Lydia. “It’s not good for you and it is hurting Holly.” He tilted his head to one side. “Why were you so hard on Holly today? She was just playing, but you came down hard on her, Lydia. Why was that?”
There was a long silence. Rachel was glad he’d asked this question and was curious as to Lydia’s answer.
“It wasn’t like Holly did anything the other children haven’t done,” Benjamin pressed. “Why did you react like that?”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Seeing Holly like that, being so strong willed and rebellious,” Lydia said quietly, “brought Miriam back . . . and it scared me.”
“Why did it scare you?” Benjamin asked.
“I saw how Daniel was playing with Holly. I knew in my heart that he was remembering Miriam. I could see it in his eyes. It felt like Miriam was taking him away from me again. This time through Holly. I became jealous again—like I was jealous of Miriam those years ago.”
Rachel and Benjamin exchanged worried glances.
“That’s not good,” Benjamin said solemnly.
“I know that.” She grimaced. “Jealousy is sinful and selfish and vain. I do not want to feel that way. I do not. I promise I will repent.”
“But it’s not fair to Holly,” Benjamin told her. “She’s the one who will suffer for your selfishness, Lydia.”
“I know,” Lydia muttered.
“Lydia.” His tone grew very firm. “You know in your heart that Holly belongs with Rachel. Don’t you?”
She looked down at the floor, saying nothing.
“Remember the Bible story about the rich, powerful man who had lots of sheep, but he insisted on taking the other man’s one and only lamb? Remember how that was a wrong that needed to be righted?” Benjamin asked.
She nodded reluctantly. “I remember that story.”
“You have four wonderful children, Lydia. You have nieces and nephews. Your mother lives right next door, and you will have grandchildren before long. I know Jacob has his eye on the Fisher girl.”
“Ja. Anna
is a good girl for Jacob.” She nodded as if imagining grandchildren.
“God has blessed you abundantly, Lydia.”
“Ja. That is true.”
“Do you hear what I’m saying to you?” Benjamin asked her. “Do you know what I mean?”
She let out a long sigh. “Holly belongs to Rachel. I know this is true.”
Rachel’s heart gave a little leap. “Do you really mean that?” she asked Lydia. “You truly believe that Holly belongs with me?”
“Ja,” Lydia said with a sigh. “She loves you so much. That will never change. She can remain with you . . . she can go home with you.”
Rachel hugged Lydia tightly. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”
“Ja.” Lydia smiled meekly. “Merry Christmas to you!”
“Merry Christmas to you too!” Rachel felt like dancing. “And you’ll still be her aunt, and it would be wonderful if Holly could visit you sometimes. I mean, if that’s okay with you.”
“I would like that.” Lydia’s face warmed with a smile. “Very much. And you can come too, Rachel.”
“Thank you.” Rachel turned to Benjamin, beaming at him with gratitude. “And Holly could come visit you too.”
“You mean if I’m still here.”
Lydia looked surprised. “You are leaving? What?”
He shrugged. “Eventually I will leave. It was always my plan. And you know that your boys are nearly ready to take over Mamm’s farm.”
“But where will you go?” Lydia looked dismayed.
Benjamin peered longingly at Rachel. “I don’t know for sure,” he said slowly. “Maybe Chicago for a while.”
“Chicago?” Lydia looked from Benjamin to Rachel and then, like the dawning sun, realization washed over her face. “You mean to see Rachel? And to see Holly?”
“If they’re willing to get to know me better.” He gave Rachel a hopeful look.
Rachel reached for his hand now, squeezing it in her own. “You know we are, Benjamin.”
He smiled shyly but didn’t release Rachel’s fingers. “Who knows . . . in time I might be able to convince them to move closer to family,” he told Lydia. “Somewhere around here perhaps.”
“Rachel and Holly would move to be near us?” Lydia’s brow creased as she studied Rachel. “Would you truly do that, Rachel?”
“I don’t think either of us would miss the big city too much,” Rachel confessed to her.
“Because we all need family,” Benjamin said. “Not just at Christmastime either.” He squeezed her hand warmly.
Lydia nodded. “Ja. That’s true. Now I will go and tell Holly this news.” She paused then, looking uncertainly at Rachel. “Or do you want to tell her?”
“No, it’s okay. You go tell her.” Rachel smiled.
After Lydia left, Benjamin was still holding Rachel’s hand and he turned to look into her eyes. “I hope I didn’t overstep any boundaries just now,” he said apologetically.
“Not where I’m concerned.” She smiled up at him.
“Because I don’t want to lose you,” he said gently. “Even if that means I have to live in Chicago for a while.”
She reached for his other hand now. “You’re not going to lose me, Benjamin. Whether or not you move to Chicago.”
They stood just gazing at each other for a long moment and then he leaned down, tenderly kissing her. “Merry Christmas,” he said quietly.
“Merry Christmas.” She felt nearly dizzy with joy now. “This is turning out to be the best Christmas ever.”
“For me too,” he said happily. “And I predict that from this day forward, you will always spend Christmas surrounded by loved ones and family, Rachel.”
“Should we go see how Holly has received this news?”
He nodded as he wrapped an arm around her, holding her close as the two of them walked back to the house. Then just as they neared the front porch, white fluffy snowflakes began to tumble joyfully down from the sky.
Melody Carlson is the award-winning author of over two hundred books, including Christmas at Harrington’s, The Christmas Shoppe, and The Christmas Pony. Melody recently received a Romantic Times Career Achievement Award in the inspirational market for her books. She and her husband live in central Oregon. For more information about Melody, visit her website at www.melodycarlson.com.
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A Simple Christmas Wish Page 13