A View from the Buggy (4 page)

“Jesus, please help me,” I prayed, although I'm sure no one heard me but God Himself. My head bobbed to the surface and I gasped for air. I saw the boat floating upside down, with several of the family clinging to it. I grabbed and hung on myself.

“Okay, everyone hang on,” Dad hollered. “I will pull the boat and swim for shore.”

Jeffery had already taken off for shore. We could see him swim his hardest. Jaylin and Justin were screaming hysterically. Thankfully Mom had been holding Justin's hand when we tipped, and she still had ahold of him when she came up. Mom tried to comfort him, but to no avail.

By now Jeffery had reached the shore and looked back, not sure how to help his terrified family.

Moments later Dad called out, “I can touch the bottom.”

We still hung on as Dad pulled and pushed the boat closer to shore. When we finally emerged dripping wet, Dad sent up his own prayer, “Thank You, Lord!”

“What happened?” I asked as I wrung out my dress the best I could.

“We must have had too much weight for the boat,” Dad winced. “Water must have seeped up between the compartments. But thankfully the boat kept afloat after we tipped. I never could have gotten you out any other way.”

It was a sobering thought. We could all have drowned. We kept up our whispered thanks to God, and I added my own, “Thank You, Jesus,
for helping us. Thank You that I still have both of my parents and all of my brothers.”

Since we were all soaked now, there was nothing to do but gather up our supper items and head back up the cow path.

“Well, I guess you got your wish to go swimming,” Dad cracked.

“But I didn't enjoy it one bit,” Jeffery replied. He shivered even though he couldn't have been cold.

“And I didn't even lose my glasses,” Mom added as another note of thanks.

And neither did I
, I thought, as we walked toward home with very grateful hearts.

A Priceless Gift

Joanna Yoder

As thou knowest not what is the way of the spirit, nor how the bones do grow in the womb of her that is with child: even so thou knowest not the works of God who maketh all (Ecclesiastes 11:5).

W
E WERE EXUBERANT
. M
OM HAD SAID THE BABY WOULD BE BORN THAT
night. We had been waiting for months. Now finally the time was almost at hand when we would see our next sibling.

Mom and Dad had planned a home birth, so my four sisters and I were sent downstairs to sleep in our basement bedrooms. But that night, we girls chose to all crowd into one room together. Rebecca and Anna Mary were in the bed, and Wilma, Rachel, and myself were on a mattress on the floor.

Titus, our only brother and the oldest in the family, had gone to his bedroom at the other end of the house. As the minutes ticked past, four-year-old Rachel dropped off to sleep. But the rest of us were too excited to sleep.

I knew the hour was late and we should get our rest, but thoughts still raced through my mind. Thoughts like,
Will the baby be a boy or a girl?

I hoped for a boy. There were way too many girls already, and Titus was 17. I figured he'd be excited to have a little brother. But whatever God gave us, I knew we'd enjoy the baby. I was only 12, but I loved babies.

My thoughts were interrupted when Rebecca flicked on a flashlight and pointed it at the small clock perched on the shelf.

“What time is it?” I asked in a hushed voice.

“A little past twelve,” she whispered. “Do you think the other girls are sleeping?”

“I'm awake,” Wilma piped up.

“Me too…”, 11-year-old Anna Mary added.

“Well…let's all try to relax and sleep now,” Rebecca said. At 15, she felt responsible for all of us.

“I'm too excited!” seven-year-old Wilma protested.

“We're all excited,” Rebecca agreed. “But we need to sleep. Try counting backward from one thousand.”

We all sighed and flopped back down on our pillows. Silence reigned again. I began counting backward and when I had reached 87, Rebecca sat straight up in bed. “I heard a baby cry!”

All thoughts of sleep fled as three more girls sat up, straining to hear any sound from upstairs.

It came soon enough. “Wa-a-ah!”

Now all four of us heard it plainly. We started laughing and hugging each other, twirling around the room. We bounced happily on the bed.

“We have a
baby
!” I squealed, forgetting that Rachel was still sleeping. But despite our noise, Rachel wasn't stirring.

“Do you think we could go upstairs?” I wondered aloud, hugging myself and bouncing some more.

“We'll wait until Dad comes down,” Rebecca decided. “He promised to wake us once the baby arrived.”

I knelt by the bedroom door and pressed my ear to the crack. Soon my sisters were beside me as we listened in the silence. We couldn't hear much, but with a little imagination we thought we heard a word or two. It sounded like Mom cooing, the way she did when she talked to a baby.

“Didn't she say
James Lee
?” I asked.

“It did almost sound like it,” Rebecca agreed.

“It's a boy then!” Wilma declared.

We all knew James Lee was the name Mom and Dad had picked if the baby were a boy.

After what seemed like a long time there was a
thump, thump, thump
of feet on the stairs.

“That must be Dad!” Rebecca squealed.

We flung open the door and Dad appeared startled as four
nightgown-clad girls burst out, nearly bowling him over. I think he had expected to find us asleep.

“What is it?” one of us asked. “A boy or a girl?”

“It's a girl,” Dad answered.

Disappointment filled my heart. How I had hoped for a little brother! But girls were just as sweet, I quickly told myself. The other girls had already stampeded up the stairs, and I turned to follow them. Eagerly we rounded the corner into the living room.

“Are you all still awake?” Mom greeted us in a surprised tone. Her eyes shone with joy and love. We knew she was glad we could see the baby so soon after she had been born.

But we were no longer looking at Mom. We crowded around Katie, the midwife, who had the baby wrapped snugly in a fuzzy blanket. We jostled each other in our attempt to get a good look at this new little family member. For a moment all was quiet as we gazed at the perfect little face.

“Oh…,” I let out my breath, and everyone started to talk at once.

“She's so cute!”

“Look at all that hair!”

“Those tiny fingernails!”

“She looks like a china doll!”

“She's the cutest baby I've ever seen.” That came from Titus, who had appeared behind us.

“Do you have a name picked out?” Katie asked.

“We'll call her Esther Marie,” Dad said. He had a big grin on his face, and we knew he was as happy as the rest of us.

“I want to hold her,” Anna Mary begged.

So, beginning with the oldest, we each had a turn at holding our tiny little sister. Titus got his turn too, and then Rebecca placed the baby in my arms.

I gazed at the oval-shaped face, the silky black hair, the tiny upturned nose. I exclaimed over the thin arms, the slender fingers, the narrow feet. Esther Marie squirmed in my arms and opened her eyes. This was followed by her mouth, and she stuck out her tiny pink
tongue. My heart melted, and I didn't care one bit that she wasn't a boy. Girls were just as precious.

The baby was passed on to Anna Mary and last of all to Wilma. Then Mom reached for her, and Dad shooed us all back to bed.

“Go get some sleep,” he ordered. “She'll still be here in the morning.”

We filed downstairs and I nestled into the bed beside Rachel, who was still sound asleep. My heart overflowed with gratefulness to God.

“Thank You, Lord, for this priceless gift You have given us,” I prayed. “Help me to always be a good example to her. Help her grow up to love and serve You.” Moments later I drowsily drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, after I had eaten breakfast and admired Baby Esther some more, I declared to Rebecca, “I'm going to wake Rachel. It's almost nine and she doesn't even know we have a baby. She's slept long enough.”

With those words I ran downstairs and entered the bedroom.

“Rachel, Rachel!” I called. “Wake up!”

She stirred, opened her large brown eyes, and blinked sleepily.

“There's a surprise upstairs,” I told her. “God gave us something special last night.”

Rachel sat up as she tried to grasp what I was telling her.

“We have a
baby
, a tiny baby sister!” I said.

Her eyes opened wide now, and Rachel threw her arms around my neck. “Take me up. I want to see her.”

I picked her up and held her close to me as I headed up the stairs. Her warm body was shaking with excitement.

“There's the baby!” I announced. I set Rachel down in front of Rebecca, who was cuddling little Esther Marie at the moment.

Rachel had wonder and delight on her face as she looked up at me and said simply, “I like her.”

“We all love her,” I said. “We're so glad God gave her to us.”

Rachel nodded her tousled head vigorously.

A Precious Sunbeam

Joanna Yoder

Lo, children are an heritage of the L
ORD
: and the fruit of the womb is his reward (Psalm 127:3).

W
HAT ARE YOU DOING TODAY?
” I
ASKED
M
OM ONE
F
RIDAY MORNING
as I helped her clear the breakfast table. Our darling little sister, four-year-old Esther Marie, was still in bed.

“I'd really like to finish Esther Marie's dress before Sunday,” Mother replied. “And this afternoon Dad wants me to clean his office. In the meantime Anna Mary can help with the laundry.”

I heard Esther Marie's voice call from the basement bedroom, and Mom hurried down to return with our tousle-headed little sister. It had been four-and-a-half years since the memorable night when Esther Marie was born. She was now a lively, brown-eyed girl.

“I want chocolate milk and stories,” Esther Marie announced.

So Mom and Esther Marie were soon settled down with a storybook as Anna Mary began to sort the dry laundry off the lines in the basement. We hang the wash indoors in cold weather and it takes longer than a day to dry sometimes. When Anna Mary brought the dry wash up, I put away the shirts and dresses first and then folded a large pile of towels. A family of nine sure makes a lot of laundry.

Esther Marie now sat on the floor with her head bent over a piece of paper, drawing. I paused to look. “What are you making?”

“It's Anna Mary,” Esther Marie said. “She's screaming because a bear is coming.” Esther Marie pointed to a scraggly animal with a big mouth. Her finger continued on. “And this is me. I'm running to the house.” Her quick finger drew another woman with outstretched arms. “This is Mom coming to save Anna Mary.”

“You're quite the artist,” I laughed.

“What's an artist?” Esther Marie asked. But she didn't wait for an answer, and I glanced at the clock. It was 11:30. Mom was busy at the sewing machine, so I needed to get busy with lunch. Did we have any leftovers from supper?

We didn't, so I ran down the basement stairs and entered the can room. The floor felt cool to my stockinged feet and I breathed the delicious air deeply. I strained to see in the semidarkness and searched the shelves laden with canned fruits, vegetables, and meat. Ah…there it was. I grabbed a jar of soup and stepped around a pail of carrots as I hurried back to the kitchen.

“What are you making?” Esther Marie asked as I dumped the soup into a kettle.

“Tomato soup,” I answered. “Does that sound good?”

“I want a toasted cheese sandwich,” she responded.

“That would go well with the soup,” I agreed. “Can you place the silverware on the table for me?”

Esther Marie did so without complaint, and half an hour later our enjoyable lunch was finished. I ran water in the sink and added a squirt of soap in preparation for dish washing.

“Who can play with me?” Esther Marie pleaded.

“I have to wash dishes,” I said. “Why don't you go ask Mom what you can do?”

She disappeared, but returned a few minutes later. “I want to play at washing laundry, and Mom said you could make lines for me.”

So I stopped work and strung yarn across the living room. Esther Marie soon had her doll clothing ready for her pretend washing machine and the pretend water. She proceeded to hang her doll clothing on the yarn lines.