by Jo Ann Brown
“We had no idea the children had been left alone and their living conditions were so awful,” Pastor Hershey said, ignoring his cell phone as it rang. From outside the office, a landline began demanding attention, but he kept his gaze on Beth Ann and Robert.
“We aren’t looking to blame anyone,” Robert said.
Robert had returned, as he’d said he would, to help Beth Ann get the kids to breakfast. When she’d opened the door to find him on the other side, she was delighted to see the cot he’d brought with him. The reception desk clerk had seen him coming up the street and asked if he’d deliver it to Beth Ann’s cabin. While Robert set up the cot, Beth Ann kept the children from “helping,” turning a quick job into one taking twice as long.
“That’s right,” Beth Ann said when the pastor folded his arms on top of his desk. “We want to make sure the children are cared for. We figured you’d be able to advise us which agency we need to contact to get help.”
Pastor Hershey, a man in his forties with a receding hairline and gentle brown eyes, nodded. “The Vermont Department for Children and Families is whom we should call. They’ll find the children a foster home, and—”
“Together?”
He shook his head. “There aren’t a lot of families who could take three children on such short notice.”
“The children won’t be separated,” she said, leaning forward. They needed Pastor Hershey’s help, but he had to comprehend how the children were determined to remain together...no matter what. “Their mother was in what they call ‘fester care,’ and they’re terrified of it. If you could see the place they were living in an effort to maintain what family they had left, you’d understand.”
“I can guess.” Pastor Hershey ran his hand across his broad forehead. “Kim Henderson, their mother, has been fighting an opioid addiction for six years.”
“Their father?”
“He died of an overdose the week before Tommy’s birth.”
“That’s tragic.” The weight of tears pressed against her eyes. She hadn’t realized how much she’d hoped there was another parent somewhere who could take the children.
“It is.” Pastor Hershey opened a drawer and pulled out what looked like a directory. “It’s a tale that’s been repeated too often.” Opening the book, he said, “I’ve got a friend at DCF, and he might be willing to grant temporary custody to someone I recommend. Just through the holidays, mind you.”
Robert said, “I think that would be easier for the kinder than separating them. I suspect Dougie will run away to try to find his sister and brother.”
“Robert’s right,” Beth Ann added. “Dougie feels responsible for them, and he’s not going to relinquish that job to anyone.”
“So you’d be willing to take temporary custody of the children, Beth Ann?” asked the pastor.
“Me?” she squeaked. Didn’t he have a family in his congregation in mind to serve as temporary guardians for the children?
“Would you if it’s possible?” He arched one brow. “I’m not saying it is, but my friend focuses on the best interests of children. It would help if I can say someone’s willing to oversee the children until Christmas.”
Beth Ann looked from his earnest face to Robert’s astonished one and at her hands clasped in her lap. God, she prayed, I know I’ve been praying for guidance about what to do with my life. If this is Your plan for me, I’ll do my best to follow it. But isn’t there someone better to take care of these children?
As if in answer, she heard a voice from her memory. Her grandmother’s voice, urging her to think of how she could serve others. Beth Ann, a midwife’s job doesn’t end with a birth. We serve the whole community throughout every day—and every night—of our lives. Where there is need and where we can help in any way—no matter how big or small—we must be there.
Raising her head, she said, “I’d be willing, but where I’m living is teeny.”
“I’m sure we can find somewhere else for you to live. Many volunteers have left recently because most of the work is done.” He smiled and gave a deep chuckle. “I can see what you’re thinking. If there are empty apartments, why were you put in that little cabin? The owner has been eager to help the town, and we didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Would you agree to oversee the children through the holidays, Beth Ann?” He pursed his lips. “I’ll be blunt. Most folks in town have made up their minds about the Hendersons, and those opinions aren’t good. I’m pleased you are more openhearted.” He got up. “Take the kids to breakfast while I make a few calls.”
Beth Ann argued, “We need to get some things from their house, and—”
“Don’t go in there until we learn what DCF intends to do.” He gave them a sad smile. “It’s stood this long, so I suspect it’ll be there by the time we’ve got answers. I’ll let you know what I hear as soon as I do.”
Beth Ann somehow got her feet under her and stood. Her head was reeling. It’d been the right thing to offer to take the children, but what did she know about being a mother of three children who closed ranks without warning? She prayed she was doing the right thing for them.
* * *
Robert followed Beth Ann out of the pastor’s office. They collected the kinder to the relief of the pastor’s assistant, who’d done everything she could to keep them entertained. Like a row of ducklings, the kinder followed Beth Ann and him to where the meal was being served. He thought they wouldn’t listen to her when she insisted they hang up their coats before getting in line for food. They never took their gazes from the bounty.
While she helped Crystal and Tommy fill their plates, making sure they didn’t take so much food that it fell on the floor, Robert supervised Dougie. He reminded the boy—yet again—he could have more as long as he ate it. From what he’d seen, eating all the food wouldn’t be a problem for Dougie.
It was his and Beth Ann’s turn to go and get food. He watched her try in vain to stifle a yawn.
“Tommy slept well last night on the foldout, but I didn’t,” she said with another yawn.
“The cot should help.”
“He had a nightmare, and he wanted someone to comfort him.” Tears filled her eyes, turning them bright green. “I’m sorry. Every time I think of those children in that horrible house...”
He handed her a plate, flustered by her open emotion. He was also a bit envious she could be so candid when he had to guard every reaction inside him. “They aren’t going back there.” Robert added scrambled eggs to his plate. “Nobody is until we’re given permission from the state. When Pastor Hershey asked if you’d take the kinder, I wasn’t sure if you’d agree.”
“It’s a short time. You would have done the same thing if he’d asked you.”
He didn’t answer, and she looked at him in astonishment. He averted his gaze. Heat rose up his neck, and he hoped he wasn’t flushing.
Though she clearly was curious what was wrong, to his relief, she asked, “If the children come to live with me, will you help me?”
“As much as I can.”
He saw she wasn’t fooled. Most days, he would be busy at the project house, and he wanted to work on the old covered bridge. In addition, his sister and her family lived in Evergreen Corners. That wouldn’t leave him time for anything else.
“Where are you headed after breakfast?” she asked.
“I thought I’d talk to Glen—”
“He’s out of town today. Something about closing down the projects after we finish the final houses.”
“If that’s the case, I guess I’ll head to the work site.”
She hesitated as he picked up silverware from the tray. “Robert, could you skip work this morning?”
“Why?” he asked as they walked to where the children were eating with great enthusiasm.
“I could use your help.”
“With?”
“So
mething important.” She stopped and lowered her voice. “They need something decent to wear to school. I thought I’d take them shopping.”
“That’s going to be expensive.”
“I’ve got savings, and I’m sure others will be willing to help.”
He gave her a quick smile. “After seeing the work the volunteers have done, I don’t have any doubts. I can give—”
“I’d rather have your time than your money.”
“What do you mean?”
“Dougie would appreciate your help more than mine.”
“I don’t know how much help I’ll be.”
“Keeping track of them in a store isn’t going to be easy. I could use another set of adult eyes.”
His gaze slid away. “All right, assuming it’s okay with Pastor Hershey.”
Realizing she was pleased, he couldn’t keep from smiling as he followed her to the table. He sat when she did and bowed his head to thank God for the meal. It was his last quiet moment during breakfast. He took about two bites of pancake before Tommy wanted his help to get more.
Seconds after Beth Ann was called away to speak with Pastor Hershey, Crystal needed help. As he held the girl’s plate steady while she deliberated over the exact banana and orange she wanted, he kept glancing between the two speaking by the door and the boys at the table. He wanted to excuse himself and go to listen to what the minister had learned from his friend, but Tommy spilled his milk down the front of him and needed to be cleaned up.
By the time he and the little boy had returned from the bathroom, Robert’s stomach was growling. He hadn’t had more than two bites and not a single sip of kaffi.
Beth Ann pointed at his cup. “I warmed it up for you.”
“Danki.” He wanted to ask what Pastor Hershey had found out, but wasn’t sure if she’d feel comfortable talking about it in front of the kinder.
Beth Ann took a bite of her toast, then reached for blueberry jam in a bowl on the table. “I was thinking,” she said as if what she was about to say were of little consequence, “my cabin is way too small.”
“It’s big enough. Nobody had to sleep standing up.” Dougie spoke around a mouthful of food, but she didn’t chide him.
Robert guessed it would have been a waste of breath.
“Pastor Hershey has found me a nice place to stay,” she answered. “In an apartment over a garage where I could keep my car so I don’t have to brush off snow after each storm.”
“You’ve got a car?” Robert asked at the same time Dougie did.
“How do you think I got from Pennsylvania?” She smiled. “My church district allows our members to have cars as long as any chrome is covered over with black paint. That’s never been an issue with my beat-up old car. However, the important thing is the nice, big apartment, where Isaac Kauffman has been living with his sister Abby, is going to be vacant by the end of the week.”
“Can we help?” asked Crystal.
“Of course you can.” Her smile was aimed at each of them, one at a time, around the table.
Robert wondered if the kinder felt the same warmth he did when that sweet expression was focused on them. In the brief time he’d known her, he’d learned no one else had a smile like Beth Ann’s.
“We’ll order pizza,” she said. “Pastor Hershey tells me it’s the usual food when someone moves from one place to another.”
As the kinder began to discuss which toppings they’d have, Robert lowered his voice to ask, “Where are the Kauffmans going?”
“Abby will be staying with the Millers, and Isaac is going to become your roommate. Pastor Hershey said one of the guys is leaving to go home.”
Robert nodded. “That’s right. Vince is heading to Ohio because his brother is getting married.”
“Pastor Hershey told me the house where the children were living has been condemned, so nobody can go in it. That’s when he asked Gladys Whittaker if the children and I could move into the apartment next to her house.”
“The apartment belongs to the mayor?” A frisson of hope burst out of what he had thought was a dead issue. If the kinder were living so close to the mayor, he’d have the excuse he needed to present his case for the covered bridge’s reconstruction to Mayor Whittaker in a calm manner. He wouldn’t have to sound so desperate and get upset when she spoke about budgets and priorities. With enough money to last him until February or March, if he was frugal, he could take his time and persuade her to his point of view.
“Yes,” Beth Ann replied. “The apartment has two bedrooms and a living room and a full kitchen as well as a table with enough room for us.”
“And a place for your car? I didn’t know you had one.”
“Like I said, my church allows them. When I needed to get to assist in a birth in the middle of the night, it was far better than a buggy. The local Amish knew I was familiar enough with their Ordnungs so I was welcomed into their homes.”
He should have realized she’d spent enough time with the Amish to be familiar with how an Ordnung, the rules by which a community lived, could vary from one district to another. He was pleased she felt comfortable with the Amish.
Because she’s part of your life now, his brain answered.
Because she’s someone special, his heart added.
Robert tried not to heed either small voice while he ate his cold breakfast and sipped his hot kaffi. He listened as Beth Ann talked to the kinder about staying with her at the new apartment and taking them shopping for new clothes. Amazed at how she led them to believe each was their own idea, he knew he could learn from her gentle methods and use them when speaking with Mayor Whittaker or Glen Landis about the covered bridge.
Finally the kinder couldn’t eat more, and Beth Ann had Tommy and Crystal collect the used plates and silverware. She asked Dougie to take the piles to the tubs filled with soapy water where they’d be gathered and washed in the kitchen. The youngsters complied while he downed the last of his kaffi.
Getting up, Beth Ann hesitated. “I’d assumed I’d take the kids in the car, but I don’t have a child booster seat for Tommy. How am I going to tell them I can’t take them today? I don’t want them to go to school in rags.”
“I’ve got an idea.” When she looked at him with an unspoken question, he said, “I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes.”
“What—?”
“You’ll see.” He rushed away before she could pose another question.
Grabbing his coat and hat, he loped out of the building and down the street, watching out for ice on the sidewalk. He wanted to help where he could, and he thought he knew the way to do that.
* * *
Robert was back in less than ten minutes. It’d taken Beth Ann that long to get the kids into their outer clothing while trying to answer questions from other volunteers. More than once, she shook her head and glanced at the Hendersons, making it clear the answer to a question would have led in a direction she didn’t want to go when they could overhear. The others respected her discretion, but she could see their open curiosity about the children’s situation.
Pastor Hershey had returned and volunteered to share the news about the children. She’d accepted his offer with relief. She needed to think about getting the children outfitted in decent clothing and moving to the new apartment. The thought of the challenges ahead of her daunted her, but God had led her to this, and she was as determined to do His will as the kids were to stay together. Somehow, they’d make it work.
Hearing a shout from outside, she looked up from buttoning her coat to see a man she didn’t know pointing out the door.
The kids ran to see what was going on, and she gave chase. They bumped into one another in front of the community center as a gray-topped buggy came toward them.
Robert drew in the reins. Holding the excited children so they didn’t make a sudden move and spook the horse
, Beth Ann smiled.
Why hadn’t she considered a buggy would be the perfect answer to her dilemma? Booster seats weren’t required in a buggy.
“What a good idea!” she called as she took Tommy and Crystal by the hand and followed an excited Dougie onto the sidewalk.
“This is the second buggy in Evergreen Corners,” Robert said as he climbed out. “It was delivered last week. The first one arrived the week before. The Millers have it, but this one belongs to my sister and...”
Beth Ann understood what he didn’t say. The buggy belonged to his sister Rachel and her future husband. Though Amish claimed they never spoke about a pending betrothal before plans to wed were published, she’d heard Rachel, who was a widow, intended to marry Isaac Kauffman as soon as she was baptized.
When she didn’t speak, he gave her a grateful glance before saying, “It belongs to my sister.”
“What’s the horsey’s name?” asked Tommy.
“Clipper. My sister warned me it’s because he’s been known to like to stretch out his legs on an outing. He’ll make the trip to the store in no time flat.”
Dougie gasped. “We’re riding in that fancy carriage?” He rocked from one foot to the other, looking as young as his little brother. “Can I drive?”
She smiled. “It’s not fancy, and it’s not a carriage. It’s a buggy, and it’s considered plain like everything Amish folks own.”
“It’s got pretty seats,” argued Crystal as she stretched out her fingers to run them along the dark blue upholstery. “It feels like a cat.”
“The seats are made to be durable and easy to clean.” She took the younger children again by the hand and led them around to the back. Unhooking the gray canvas flap, she started to lift it.
“Let me,” Robert said as he took the uncooperative fabric from her and raised it enough so she could lift Tommy over the rear seat.
Beth Ann cupped her hands and gave Crystal a leg up to climb in after her younger brother. She turned to do the same for Dougie, but he disdained her help and, grabbing the seat, scrambled up on his own.