Loe raamatut: «An Amish Christmas Journey»

This book is dedicated to women and men

everywhere who seek to mend fences and to

right wrongs within their families.

Blessed are the peacemakers:

for they shall be called the children of God.

—Matthew 5:9

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

“I suppose we must do it.” Greta Barkman almost choked on her words.

It was the right thing to say. The only decision her Amish faith would let her make, but she’d rather walk through the snow barefoot...all winter...than spend one hour with her uncle Morris. Bringing him home to stay with them for a few months would be unbearable. Surely God would not ask this of her and her sisters after all they had endured.

Betsy, the youngest at eighteen, slapped the letter facedown on the table. “It’s not as if Onkel Morris can expect us to drop everything and rush to his side. We escaped his cruelness by the grace of God. Besides, it’s almost Christmas. It will be our first happy Christmas together. I don’t want him to spoil it.”

He will spoil it. I know that as surely as I know it’s cold outside.

Greta glanced at the kitchen window. The late-afternoon sun shone brightly beyond the frost-covered glass, but it added little warmth to the December day. The dusting of snow that had arrived in the night blew around, sparkling like glitter in the breeze. She shivered and looked back at the people seated around her grandfather’s table. Her three sisters, her grandfather and his new wife, and two of her sisters’ husbands were gathered for this family meeting.

Clara, the oldest sister, picked up the letter. “I agree with Greta. We have to do this. His bishop would not write asking us to take Morris in if our uncle’s condition were not serious.” She glanced at her husband seated beside her. “I will go, if you agree, Ethan.”

He covered her hand with his own. “I won’t pretend that I like the idea, but you must do what you think best. The children and I will manage without you for a few days.”

“I can go.” Lizzie, the second sister, looked as though she would rather eat dirt.

Carl, Lizzie’s husband, laid his hand on her arm. “I won’t agree to it. You have to think of the babe. Such a long car ride will not be good for you.”

Naomi, their grandfather’s wife, reached over to clasp Lizzie’s hand. “You know the midwife cautioned against traveling with the problems you’ve had.”

Lizzie nodded in resignation, but Greta detected a hint of relief in her eyes. Who could blame her?

Greta retrieved the letter and scanned it again. Their uncle lived near Fort Wayne, Indiana. She explained the contents for those that hadn’t read it. “His bishop writes that the congregation is willing to arrange for a van and driver to take Morris from the hospital to our home. His doctors wouldn’t allow him to travel by bus. A car or van is acceptable as long as the driver makes frequent stops. Morris must take brief walks every hour or two to prevent circulation problems with his legs.”

And he must have someone travel with him. The five-hour car trip from Fort Wayne to Hope Springs would need to be broken into at least two days of travel. It would make a very long trip, breaks or no breaks.

Although the bishop hinted at some dissention among his flock over the matter, the fact that none of them were willing to take Morris in spoke of a serious rift in the church group. The Amish took care of their own within the community. Families were expected to look after aging or ailing members and normally did so gladly. His nieces were all the family Morris Barkman had left.

Lizzie crossed her arms over her chest. “I can’t believe old man Rufus turned Morris out of the house and hired a new fellow to work the dairy farm. I thought our onkel and his landlord were friends.”

“I can believe it,” Clara said with a shiver. “Rufus Kuhns is an evil man. He’s worse than our uncle.”

Greta nodded in agreement. Rufus had tried to coerce Clara into marrying him by threatening all of them with eviction and physical violence. “Morris is out of a job and has nowhere to live. He is dependent on us, the very women he mistreated for years. It must be a bitter pill for him.”

It was for her. For all of them.

Naomi sighed heavily. “Greta, you are the only logical choice to go and fetch him here.”

She looked up startled. “Me? Why me?”

Naomi’s gaze softened with sympathy. “Lizzie can’t go. Betsy has a job and shouldn’t miss work, besides she is too young to travel so far alone. Clara is a newlywed. She has a new husband and three stepchildren to think about. It would be cruel to part her from the children so soon. I’m not related to Morris. He might find it uncomfortable traveling with me.”

“I don’t care if he is comfortable or not!” Greta couldn’t do it. She couldn’t spend two days shut in a car with him.

“I don’t know how I would manage without you for even a day, Naomi.” Joseph reached to take his new wife’s hand.

Greta saw the warm look he exchanged with Naomi. It seemed everyone in her family had found someone to love. Everyone but her. Betsy was being courted by a local Amish fellow that everyone liked. Lizzie had married Carl last fall, and they were expecting their first child. Clara had wed Ethan Gingerich only a few weeks ago.

Greta had refused the few men who had asked her out. Marriage wasn’t in her future, certainly not marriage to an Amish man. She wanted to become a counselor and help abused women. To do that would require more education than the eight years the Amish allowed. Leaving the community she loved was a difficult decision—one she wasn’t sure she was ready to make. She had only discussed it with Clara. No one else knew what she was thinking of doing.

Greta didn’t begrudge any of her sisters their happiness. They deserved it and more. How many times had her actions and her words brought their uncle’s wrath down on them? Far more that she cared to count. If only she had been stronger. If only she had stood up to him. If only she had told someone about the abuse, but she hadn’t. They had all lived inside a circle of fear and shame until Lizzie found the courage to break out. It was because of Lizzie that they found a refuge of love and caring in their grandfather’s home. God had rewarded Lizzie’s selfless bravery.

Greta didn’t possess such courage. The thought of spending time with Morris made her cringe. She couldn’t do it. Panic hit her full in the face. She crumpled the letter and jumped to her feet. “Someone else will have to go.”

She ran out of the room and up the stairs with her heart hammering wildly in her chest. She was staring out her bedroom window struggling to regain her composure when Naomi came in. Without turning around, Greta said, “I can’t do it.”

Naomi slipped an arm across Greta’s shoulders. “Betsy has said she will go.”

Greta flinched. Her little sister was no match for Morris. “Betsy is too young. He’s too mean. You don’t know how he is. He can make her feel worthless with nothing but words. He doesn’t even need his stick to beat her down.”

“I’m not saying it will be easy for her, but she’s willing to do it to spare you.”

Greta bit the corner of her lip. “I’m afraid, Naomi.”

“Of what, child?”

“That I’ll turn back into the groveling, miserable person I was when I lived with him. He called me Mouse because I was always scurrying out of his path. I existed—I didn’t live. I was dead inside.”

She still was. In spite of all she had read about surviving abuse, she knew Morris still had a hold over her. “I don’t have Lizzie’s courage.”

Naomi enfolded her in a fierce hug. “Courage is fear that has said its prayers. God will give you all you need if you depend on Him.”

Drawing strength from the woman she had come to love and admire, Greta nodded. Now it was her turn to be brave. To prove to herself and to him that she wasn’t worthless. “All right, I will go.”

Naomi pulled away to look into Greta’s eyes. “Are you sure?”

She would be coolly polite. She would ignore her uncle’s hurtful ways, and she would never, ever let him make her feel like an inadequate person again. “Ja.”

They returned to the kitchen, and both women took a seat at the table. Naomi said, “It’s settled. Greta will go.”

Afraid her sisters would read the fear in her eyes Greta kept her gaze on her hands clasped together on the table. “I’ll take the bus there and accompany him in the van on his journey. I’ll write to Morris and his bishop and tell them to expect me in four days. That should give them enough time to arrange everything.”

“Gott willing, you will be home two days later,” Naomi added.

Greta let out a deep sigh and looked around the table. “I really don’t want to bring him into this house.”

The sisters exchanged glances. Clara said, “We feel the same, but perhaps this is a test of our compassion. It is the Christmas season, after all. How can we abandon Onkel Morris, ill and alone, knowing that God sent His only Son into this world to teach us to care for one another, even those who hate us?”

“The right thing to do is not always the easy thing to do,” Betsy added in resignation.

“Perhaps his illness has shown Morris the error of his ways, and he is ready to mend our family fences,” Lizzie suggested in a falsely bright tone.

Greta wouldn’t count on it. Of all the ways she had imagined spending her first Christmas at her new home, none of them included sharing it with mean old Morris.

“Joseph, you have very wise granddaughters,” Naomi said with a tender smile.

He nodded. “That may be true, but I’m with Greta. I’ll take him in, but I don’t want the man here, either. Morris will find a way to ruin our Christmas. You mark my words.”

Chapter Two

They were going home at last.

Toby Yoder knelt in front of his ten-year-old sister’s wheelchair inside the huge lobby of the Fort Wayne Medical Center. The soaring two-story tall glass windows let the light pour in around her. It reflected off the gleaming marble floors and the chrome legs of the chairs and tables near them. Swags of greenery and red bows adorned the front of the large curved cherrywood reception desk while a massive white Christmas tree with blue ornaments and a gleaming silver star dominated the center of the lobby. Every table had a potted poinsettia or an arrangement of cinnamon-scented pinecones in the center.

Signs of the holy season were everywhere, but they couldn’t lighten his heart.

Marianne wouldn’t look at the sunshine, or the Christmas decorations—or at him. She sat slumped into the corner of the chair as if hiding from the world in a donated black coat that was too big for her. She looked worn to the bone already and she had been up less than half an hour. She was still so weak. His funny, fun-loving and energetic little sister was a shell of her former self and it was his fault.

If it took the rest of his life, he would make it up to her.

He forced a smile for her benefit. “We don’t have to leave town today, Marianne. My old roommates won’t mind if you want to stay at their apartment. It’s not far from here. You can rest up for a few days before we travel to Pennsylvania. I’ll make arrangements for another driver to take us then.”

She shook her head slightly. “Nee. Take me home now,” she whispered.

She hadn’t spoken more than a few whispered words to him since the fire that took the lives of their parents and put her in the hospital. In spite of that, she managed to make it clear she wanted to go back to Pennsylvania. She didn’t want to stay in Indiana.

A non-Amish family walked in through the hospital doors. Several of the children stared openly at Toby and Marianne. Dressed in traditional Amish clothing and wearing a black flat-topped felt hat, Toby knew he stood out from ordinary visitors to the hospital. Although there were large Amish settlements in the area, Amish folks rarely ventured into the heart of the city.

Marianne pulled her oversize black bonnet forward to cover the still raw-looking burns on the left side of her face and neck. She hated people staring at her. A stab of pity took the smile from Toby’s face. He would give anything to undo the decisions that had led to her pain, but that wasn’t possible. God should have put him in her place that night. She should have been the one left unscathed.

The elevator door across the lobby opened and a nurse came out pushing another wheelchair. In it sat an Amish elder wearing a heavy frown. His pale face was almost as gray as his long beard. A young man in scrubs followed them, pushing a cart laden with several suitcases. He left the cart parked near the door and joined the nurse. “Take care of yourself, Mr. Barkman. Merry Christmas.” With a nod, a wink and a thumbs-up to the nurse, he went back to the elevators.

“I don’t see why you’re kicking me out in the cold. What kind of hospital is this?” Mr. Barkman grumbled.

“We aren’t kicking you out, Mr. Barkman. Your driver is on his way. He has picked up your niece at the bus station, and they’ll be here soon. You’re going home with her.”

“That’s no comfort to me. My nieces are the cause of this, you know. Their disgraceful behavior shamed me and put all the work of the farm on my shoulders. It was too much for a man my age. You think I’ll be better off living with them? Ha! You might as well call the undertaker and be done with it.”

“That’s no way to talk. Remember what your doctor told you. A positive attitude will help more than any medication.” She parked his chair by a sofa in the waiting area.

“That doctor would sing a different tune if he’d had a heart attack and heart surgery. Where are my pain pills?”

“You will need to pick them up at the pharmacy. I have all the instructions on what you need to take and when. I will go over it with you and your niece. You have your nitroglycerin, don’t you?”

He nodded and patted his vest pocket. “Pills, pills and more pills. What good have they done me? I’m still a sick man.”

She said, “I see a van coming up the drive. I think they’re here.”

The relief in the nurse’s voice brought back Toby’s grin. He leaned close to his sister. “You are a much better patient.” He hoped for a smile, but he was disappointed. She kept her head lowered.

A long white van pulled to a stop outside the doors. The driver, a portly man in his midforties with curly salt-and-pepper hair hopped out and came around to open the sliding door on the passenger’s side. A young Amish woman got out.

“Is that your niece, Mr. Barkman?” the nurse asked.

“That’s Greta. The ungrateful hussy. I’m amazed she has the courage to show her face to me.”

The nurse rolled her eyes and muttered, “So am I.”

Toby happened to catch her glance. She smothered a sheepish grin. It was clear she thought Mr. Barkman’s niece would have her hands full.

The outside door opened. The van driver and the woman came inside along with a gust of cold wind. Mr. Barkman’s niece stopped a few feet away from her uncle. The driver came straight to Toby.

“Are you Tobias Yoder?” he asked in a booming voice.

Toby rose and held out his hand. “You must be Arles Hooper. Thank you for agreeing to take us to Bird-in-Hand, Pennsylvania. I know it’s a very long drive. This is Marianne.”

“Pleased to meet you both. I’ve got several more Amish folks riding with us. It’s fortunate for me that so many Amish like to travel this time of year. I’ve got a full load. I had to make the trip worth my while, you know, with the price of gas and oil. Course you folks don’t have to worry about that, what with driving buggies. We won’t make it to Bird-in-Hand tonight, but I’ll get you there as soon as I can. There’s talk of a big winter storm moving this way. I’m hoping to beat it, but I know a few nice, inexpensive motels where we can hunker down if need be.”

“That’s fine.” Toby nodded, but he didn’t have the funds for an extended stay at a motel. What little extra he had would be needed when he got to Pennsylvania.

“Good. I have a family named Coblentz with me. There are eight of them, but they are only going as far as Ohio City. I know that’s a little bit out of your way, but not much, less than an hour. I’ll be taking Mr. Barkman and his niece all the way to Hope Springs, Ohio. From there, it will just be you two. I hope you don’t mind the additional passengers.”

“We’ll be glad of the extra company on the trip, won’t we, Marianne?” He spoke to his sister, but his gaze was drawn to Mr. Barkman’s niece.

Ungrateful Greta didn’t look like a hussy. She wasn’t strikingly pretty, but she was pleasant looking. Demurely dressed in a dark blue overcoat and a large black bonnet, she was slightly taller than average. She carried a blue cloth bag over one arm. What little he could see of her hair was a light honey brown. He couldn’t be sure from here, but he thought her eyes were light brown, as well.

She stood with her head held high. There was something almost defiant in her stance. Something else he’d noticed...there hadn’t been any display of affection or even a greeting between her and her uncle.

Arles left Toby’s side and approached Mr. Barkman. “Good to have you with us, sir. I’ll do my best to make it an easy journey. Shall I put your things in the van?”

“Greta can do it. She’s good with simple tasks,” Mr. Barkman snapped.

Toby caught a glimpse of the covert glance she shot her uncle. Her eyes filled with dislike before she looked down and schooled her features into blankness. Toby’s interest sharpened. The tension between the uncle and niece was palpable. It might prove to be an uncomfortable trip with these two in the van.

The nurse said, “Please take the bags out, Mr. Hooper. I need to speak with Miss Barkman about her uncle’s care.”

Toby continued to study the young Amish woman who looked to be in her early twenties. Her knuckles stood out white against her dark clothing where her hands were clenched tightly into fists. She seemed taut as a bowstring.

She glanced his way, and her eyes softened when she caught sight of his sister. A gentle smile curved her lips and changed her features from pleasant looking to sweetly appealing. He found himself smiling in turn. She looked up from his sister and met his gaze.

Appealing was right. Instantly, he felt a strange connection. Her eyes widened. He was right. They were a light, lively golden brown. He couldn’t seem to break the contact. Who was Greta Barkman? What was she thinking? He wanted to know.

She looked away first, and his unexpected connection with her was broken. The nurse had called her Miss Barkman, so she wasn’t married.

He gave a small shake of his head. Interest in a pretty woman should be the last thing on his mind. He needed to get Marianne home to Pennsylvania, find a job and look after her. She was his priority now. He planned to spend the rest of his life taking care of her. He owed her that much and more.

He laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. She flinched, then grabbed his hand. “You won’t leave me, will you?”

The treatment for her burns had been painful, leaving her leery of physical contact, but she didn’t want him out of her sight. He knelt in front of her. “Of course not. We’re going home to Pennsylvania together.”

“I don’t want these other people around.”

“I know, honey, but it can’t be helped. Don’t worry. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

* * *

Greta caught the interplay between the young girl in the wheelchair and the handsome man with her. It was comforting to see such a close relationship. Her own troubled history gave her a heightened sense of awareness about others, particularly young women. The man was a nice-looking Amish fellow with dark hair, intelligent dark eyes and a winning smile. There was something compelling in his gaze that intrigued her.

“There are some things we need to go over, Miss Barkman. It should only take a few minutes,” the nurse said, drawing Greta’s attention once more.

“Of course.” She managed a stiff smile.

“Please ask if you have any questions. I’ve included my cell phone number at the top of the paperwork. When I spoke with Mr. Hooper about this trip, he assured me you would be able to use his phone if you need to. Mr. Hooper understands that he’ll have to make frequent stops for Mr. Barkman’s well-being.”

“A lot of good that will do. What if I need to lie down?” Morris asked.

“I’ll do everything in my power to make you comfortable, Onkel,” Greta assured him.

“You and your sisters have brought me nothing but shame and hardship. Traveling with you will not bring me comfort.”

Greta pressed her lips together to hold back her comment. She had come prepared to treat her uncle with civility, but his attitude was making it difficult. He hadn’t changed at all. If anything, he was openly hostile now. Before, he had taken pains to keep his cruelty hidden.

The nurse pushed Morris toward a nearby door. “We will have more privacy inside our Quiet Room. I’m Mrs. Collins, the discharge nurse for our Cardiac Care Unit.”

Greta rushed to hold open the door for them. The nurse said, “Why don’t you have a seat, Miss Barkman. I need to review Mr. Barkman’s going-home instructions with you both.”

She pulled a clipboard from a pocket on the back of the wheelchair and stepped around to face Morris. She held out the clipboard and a pen. “I need your permission to share your medical information with your niece. Would you sign on the bottom, please?”

“I don’t see why she needs to know anything.”

“Your medications are complex and should you develop any problems, your niece must know what to do. A patient can’t very well take nitroglycerin if they are unconscious. This is hypothetical, of course, but you do see my point, don’t you?”

Morris pulled the document toward him and scribbled his name across the bottom. “Tell her anything you like, but I don’t have to stay and listen to it.”

“Very well. You may wait outside until Mr. Hooper can take you to the van.”

Mrs. Collins wheeled Morris out and after a few minutes, the woman returned alone. She smiled as she sat down across from Greta. “I’m sorry. Your uncle has not been the most cooperative patient.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. Please tell me what I need to know.”

The nurse’s face softened. “Your uncle sustained a massive heart attack. The doctors here did a triple bypass surgery, but even with restored blood flow, some of his heart muscle has been severely damaged.”

“I’m surprised he agreed to the surgery. It is not our way.”

“We were surprised, as well, but I’m afraid in spite of the surgery his prognosis is not good.”

Greta frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“He continues to have episodes of chest pain, what we call unstable angina. He has medicine that he needs to take as soon as these episodes begin. The pain is caused by a lack of blood flow to his already weakened heart. Your uncle’s heart was so damaged that he is not a candidate for another procedure. The best we can offer is palliative care.”

“What does this mean, palliative?” Greta thought she understood the sympathy in the woman’s words but she needed to be sure.

“It means we want to make your uncle’s last months as comfortable as possible. He is not going to get better.”

“Morris is dying?” Greta felt the air rush out of her lungs.