An Amish Christmas Quilt (9 page)

Storm clouds passed across the boy's forehead. “But he's just bein' a dog. If Seth's gonna keep bossin' him around—”

Ben grasped the boy's shoulders and set him firmly on the ground. “It's your job to listen and do what adults tell ya,” he pointed out. “Rowdy's smart and his instincts are
gut
. He knows to obey Seth because he
trusts
him—just like when he ran to Seth for help that first day ya came to Willow Ridge. But we don't want him learnin' bad habits.”

When Sol opened his mouth to protest again, Ben grew stern. “Go inside and change your
attitude
, young fella,” he said. “If you're playin' the part of a wise man—and named for one of the great kings of the Old Testament—it's time ya grew into those roles.”

Heaving a theatrical sigh, Sol turned.

As the boy trudged toward the house, Seth wondered once again if he should curb his feelings for Mary before he got too attached to her. “I wish I knew what to do about that kid,” he murmured as the two of them resumed their work. “Mary's asked me to draw up plans for a house, and she's actin' interested in
me
—but Sol's quick to let me know he's none too happy about Mary and me gettin' friendly.”

“He's moody,” Ben agreed as they assessed the placement of the bales. “Some of that's just him protectin' his territory as the man of the family. But Elmer let him get away with more than I would have—maybe because Sol was so depressed after his mother passed.”

“
Jah
, those kids have had a tough couple of years. I try to keep that in mind, knowin' I'm lucky to have both of my parents still alive.” Seth picked up his tools and surveyed the area to be sure he'd collected all of them. “But I don't think we're doin' Sol any favors if we let him whine and carry on—”

“Ya got that right,” Ben agreed.

“—and I
won't
tolerate his backtalk,” Seth continued firmly. “But then, maybe I've been a single man too long, and I'm not the best judge of how to handle Sol, either. Maybe his attitude is God's way of tellin' me to think again, where seein' Mary is concerned.”

Ben let out a short laugh. “If you're gonna let that boy determine the path your relationship with Mary'll take, it's already headin' down a dead end. I sure hope ya won't let that happen, Seth. From what I can see, the two of ya are as well suited as Miriam and I are.”

Seth's eyes widened. Since Ben Hooley had come here from Lancaster County, no one had ever questioned that he and Miriam made the perfect pair. It had been easy for them to court because Miriam's girls were grown . . . but Seth doubted that young children would have dissuaded Ben. He was the kind of man who determined what he wanted—what God intended for him to pursue—and let nothing stand in his way. Willow Ridge was truly blessed to have Ben as one of its new preachers.

A
woof
made Seth glance at Rowdy, who was still sitting obediently nearby. When the border collie eagerly lifted a paw, Seth couldn't resist the dog's invitation. He sat on a bale and shook hands, admiring the dog's intelligence. “You're a
gut
dog, Rowdy,” he said.

Rowdy woofed again, thumping his tail to confirm Seth's assessment.

Seth chuckled. Maybe he'd do well to assume some of the dog's confidence. “Do ya think we can bring Sol around?” he asked, still grasping Rowdy's paw. “He needs somebody to guide him—to
herd
him—and he's not keen on listenin' to me. But if
you
steer Sol away from trouble, and maybe make him laugh more,” Seth continued in a pensive tone, “maybe I can take him from there, ya think?”

Despite the complicated nature of the conversation, Seth sensed that Rowdy had followed along and knew exactly what he was supposed to do.
Woof! Woof!
he replied as he held Seth's gaze.

“All right, then, we'll work on it. You and me,” Seth said.

“Woof!”

“
Woof!”

When Seth released him, Rowdy circled the bales and then ran toward the house.

“Looks like you two're gonna be a team,” Ben said, clapping Seth on the shoulder. “Sol's bad attitude doesn't stand a chance. We all do better believin' we're loved and needed. Rowdy knows that; now it's just a matter of convincin' our boy.”

We all do better believin' we're loved and needed.
It was a tall order, winning Sol to his side. Yet now that Ben had stated the goal so clearly, Seth felt he had a better chance of reaching it.

 

Later that night, when the Brenneman house had settled into a deep December sleep, Seth lay awake. He told himself that the afternoon's incident with Sol was a natural part of the package when it came to falling for a widow with kids, yet the boy's continual backtalk and bad attitude grated on him. As he considered the long-term picture, multiplying and magnifying Sol's retorts and protests and moods in the silence of the night, Seth became restless and agitated. He replayed the incidents of Sol's defiance, seeing the kid's belligerent frowns and hearing his rising whine, again and again, until he got out of bed to pace. How stupid had he been, talking to a dog? Believing that he and Rowdy could reverse Sol's attitude?

He'd made a big mistake, falling for Mary. The best thing would be to go out to the phone shanty and call her
right now
—leave a message saying he couldn't participate in the Christmas Eve program, nor should she get her hopes up or continue to be interested in him. Seth didn't want to hurt Mary, but deep in his heart he knew he wasn't cut out to be Sol's next
dat.
It would never work.
Never.

Yet when he reached the kitchen, he waffled. He saw Mary's flawless face in his mind as he took a sugar cookie from a plate on the counter and washed it down with a glass of milk. Only a heartless coward would leave a phone message. Mary deserved his explanation face-to-face, even if such a conversation scared him nearly as much as the prospect of raising Sol did. He didn't have much time before the pageant to inform her—but surely Ben or Andy Leitner could wear his costume. Either man would be a better Joseph, and they wouldn't break her heart. It was the only decent thing to do.

When Seth went back to bed, he dropped off to sleep almost immediately. In his dream, he was in the back workroom of the cabinet shop, sanding the top of a table, when a bright light came through the window. The glare and intensity were so strong that he dropped his sander to shield his eyes, wondering if there'd been some sort of explosion and if he should take cover. Then he sensed a presence.

Peering between his fingers into the light, Seth thought he could make out a mighty set of wings that nearly filled the room. The being's face was so compelling and ethereal, yet so powerful that he dared not look directly at it. “Who are you?” he rasped. “What have I done that—are you . . . taking me away from this life? I'm not nearly ready—”

While the presence didn't seem to move its lips, Seth heard the words as plainly as if one of his brothers had spoken them—not that Micah or Aaron would use such archaic language. It occurred to his dream-immersed mind that anyone in the Bible who'd been visited by an angel had heard these exact words—people like the Virgin Mary and John the Baptist's father, and the shepherds keeping watch over their flocks by night.

Seth sat bolt upright in his bed. He was breathing rapidly, his heart racing in his chest. As the familiar shadows of his bedroom furniture became apparent to him, he realized that he was alone and unharmed. He took stock of what he'd just experienced. Those words he'd heard,
Fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife
, had been spoken by an angel of the Lord to Joseph, who was considering what to do after his fiancée, Mary, had revealed she was pregnant.

Seth let out the breath he'd been holding. While the dream had felt so
real
, it was merely his imagination again. The words had surely come to him from Christmas sermons and evening devotional readings of the Decembers in his lifetime—nothing more. His mind was just going into overdrive the way it had when he'd fixated on Sol's misbehavior. He should just let it go—forget the dream and get back to sleep.

Yet Seth lay awake, still feeling the powerful glow and the impact of his vision.
What if it really was an angel of the Lord, coming to
you
? The Bible's full of such visitations, yet we tend to think they don't happen to ordinary folks in this day and age.

And why wouldn't they?
another part of his mind challenged.

Who am I, that an angel of the Lord would visit
me
?
Seth reasoned. And yet . . . hadn't every person in the Bible been going along his or her way, unaware of the miracles that would come to pass and the part he or she would play in them, when the angel appeared?

As such questions and counter-questions filled his thoughts, Seth knew it was useless to try to sleep any more. What if he was going crazy? Should he tell someone about this dream—and to whom could he possibly entrust such a vision? It wasn't as though he were engaged to Mary Kauffman, and she wasn't pregnant, so the details didn't really add up. He was making way too much of a figment of his imagination.

Maybe he should confide in Bishop Tom . . . or Ben Hooley. Those men would know better how to interpret his dream, or they could counsel him about how to react to it. Or maybe they would gently tell him that angels tended to be phantoms of
women's
imaginations—

Seth considered that option. The safer, saner thing would be to keep the dream to himself . . . to see how things worked out with Mary. What would it hurt to play Joseph in the living Nativity? It was just for a few hours on Christmas Eve, after all. It would make Mary happy, and if nothing else, it would validate her confidence in him. Perhaps the evening would be a chance for him and Sol to spend some positive time together. And maybe playing Joseph would help him overcome his apparent jinx when it came to being in front of an audience. He'd be standing on solid ground instead of on a platform in the schoolhouse . . . and he would be showing Sol that dependable men honored their commitments.

Seth smiled in the darkness. He knew what he would do now—the answer was as clear as Mary's beautiful green eyes. He
had
seen an angel. He was sure of it.

Long into the wee hours, Seth pondered these things in his heart.

C
HAPTER
9

As she walked to the barn with angel Lucy and wise man Sol on Christmas Eve, Mary felt as though hundreds of butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She wore a soft ivory scarf over her head and a loose blue gown tied around her dress—along with a set of long underwear and stretchy little gloves. It was a perfect evening for their living Nativity. The night sky was a canopy of indigo velvet, dotted with diamond stars. A ewe and two lambs stood in a pen to one side of the hay bales, while a black-and-white cow, tethered to a post along with Clarabelle, munched hay from a manger on the other side. Rowdy trotted up to greet them, sniffing their costumes and gazing at them as though he, too, understood the significance of this event.

Rebecca was making her last-minute preparations, and when she flipped the switch on the light pole, Mary and Lucy let out an “ohh!” The area around the hay bales and pens took on a soft glow, because Rebecca had covered the light with pearlescent fabric to mute the glare.

“Are we ready? I think our Nativity's going to be a huge success, with such a heavenly little angel and a regal king,” Rebecca said as she grinned at each of the kids. “And how's our main attraction?”

Emmanuel, cradled in Mary's arms, wiggled when Rebecca smiled down at him.

“He's been fed and changed, so he's ready,” Mary replied. She smiled at the little parade walking up the Hooleys' lane. “And here come our shepherds and the other wise men and angels. Everybody looks really
gut
, Rebecca. We couldn't have done this without your help.”

As Rebecca murmured something in reply, Mary lost track of it. A tall, broad-shouldered man in a flowing brick-red tunic was striding up the lane toward her, and while she couldn't see his eyes, she sensed Seth was looking right at her . . . just as she was gazing at him.
Thank you for this night, Lord, as we celebrate the birth of Your son and the beginning of our new life in Willow Ridge,
Mary prayed quickly.
Help me be your faithful handmaiden, as the Virgin Mary was so long ago.

“Let's hope this works the way I envisioned it,” Rebecca said as other folks began to gather from around town.

Mary turned just in time to see a star-shaped balloon rise into the air, on a long ribbon tied to the light post—and when Rebecca turned on the second lantern, which was aimed skyward, the star glowed and sparkled. Miriam, Ben, Bishop Tom, and the Zook family all let out a delighted
oh!

“Folks will be able to see that from quite a ways off!” Tom said. His face shone with boyish wonder as he gazed raptly at the shimmering star above them.

Rebecca clasped her hands ecstatically, gazing upward with everyone else. “I took the liberty of using some spray glitter and gold sequins,” she explained. “Not very Plain, but maybe folks out driving tonight will see it and stop to visit us.”

“Just like the star guided the wise men to the stable,” Teacher Alberta murmured. Then she looked around at the crowd. “Children, let's all walk slowly around the animals so they get accustomed to us. When Mary, Joseph, and Emmanuel are in place, we'll all sing ‘Away in a Manger
,
' while you shepherds and wise men wait behind the bales, like we talked about. Then the shepherds can come out, and we'll sing ‘Silent Night
,
' and then ‘We Three Kings' as the wise men enter.” Then, for the benefit of the adults who'd come, she added, “And all of your families can help us sing,”

Mary's heart fluttered as she sat down on the center hay bale, cradling Emmanuel in her arms. As Seth came to stand beside her, his expression made her hold her breath.

“It's quite a night,” he murmured. “Even better than I dared to imagine.”

“
Jah
, it is,” Mary replied. “I—I'm so glad you're here.”

As the four little angels stood beside them and began to sing, Mary's heart overflowed. Was there anything sweeter than little children's voices rising on “Away in a Manger”? Taylor was singing out, holding Amelia and Sara's hands as their wings fluttered gently. Lucy, clasping Sara's hand, looked totally enthralled . . . downright angelic as she sang her heart out. The parents and neighbors kept their voices low, watching the four angels in their white robes and wings. More than a few were swiping at their eyes.

Emmanuel smiled and cooed as though he enjoyed the music. As the shepherds approached, Mary held him up against her so he could see what was going on. Brett Leitner and the three Knepp boys came around from behind the bales and then fell on their knees, gazing at the baby. Little Timmy clutched his stuffed lamb and stuck his thumb in his mouth, looking a bit intimidated but adorable.

As everyone began to sing “Silent Night
,
” Mary glanced up at Seth, who had joined in with his low, baritone voice.

“. . . all is calm, all is bright . . .” he sang, almost as though he were addressing her alone.

Did Jesus's mother feel such a sense of wonder?
Mary pondered as she held Seth's gaze.
Did she feel heavenly love surrounding her—or was she young and scared about birthing her first child in a strange, dirty place among the animals? I can't imagine her precarious situation. Jesus might have been born alongside the road, just as Emmanuel nearly was . . . but for the grace of God and a
gut
man.

Having a strong, dependable Joseph by her side made all the difference. Mary felt so at ease with Seth, yet so tingly in her awareness of him. The glow on his face made her heart dance as she tried to maintain a worshipful attitude—

A squawk rose from behind them, and a familiar little voice cried, “Ma-maaa, I falled in
cow poop
!”

“Oh, Lucy,” Mary murmured as her daughter's wail rose above the singing. Rowdy jumped to his feet and began barking, which made the lambs start to bleat as the cow anxiously stomped its hooves.

Before Mary could stand up, Seth was striding around the shepherds and the sheep to rescue her daughter. As he scooped Lucy from the ground, murmuring gentle consolations—and silencing the dog—Aunt Miriam met him and carried her little girl to the house to clean her up. Quiet laughter came from the crowd—and
what
a crowd it was! In the soft light, Mary recognized several families from Willow Ridge, but they were making way for people she'd never seen, coming up from the road in clusters.

The expressions on their faces amazed her. Probably twenty
Englisch
strangers had gathered to look at the angels, the animals, and the shepherds—but it was Emmanuel their gazes lingered on. Mary smiled up at them with more confidence than she felt, remembering how Jesus' mother had greeted unexpected visitors on that holy night long ago.

As Teacher Alberta struck up “We Three Kings
,
” Cyrus, Levi, and Sol entered from behind the hay bales. One by one, in a stately cadence, they appeared and then knelt before Mary and Emmanuel, offering their gifts. Mary fought a giggle when she recalled the fuss the Zook boys had made earlier in the week. Now, their earnest bearded expressions and their clear voices conveyed their sincere wishes to worship the King they celebrated on this night.

As the carol ended, Mary noticed a police officer standing next to Ben and Bishop Tom. Her heart clutched, yet the officer's smile reassured her. “I saw all the cars down this way, and then I saw the
star
!” he said as he gazed up at it. “Just had to see what you folks were doing this evening.”

“And we're glad ya stopped by to share our Christmas Eve, Officer McClatchey,” Aunt Miriam said as she stepped up beside the men. Lucy was in her arms, munching a cookie and looking restored to angelic happiness. “Looks like ya brought lots of folks with ya. My word, the cars are parked along the road for as far as I can see!”

The policeman gave Mary a little wave and she smiled back at him. Who could have foreseen such a crowd? Once again, it was Rebecca's gift for getting the word out that had brought so many people to Willow Ridge to share their living Nativity.

“I don't see many reminders of true Christmas spirit on my job,” Officer McClatchey remarked as he continued to gaze at the children. “You folks've given me quite a gift tonight. God bless you—and Merry Christmas,” he added as he shook the men's hands.

“Christmas blessings to you and your family, as well,” Bishop Tom replied.

“Merry Christmas, and God bless ya in the comin' year!” Miriam called after him. When she set Lucy on the ground, the little angel rejoined the other children—and then decided to sit on the hay beside Mary.

Mary leaned close to her. “You all right now, sweetie?” she whispered.

“It was Christmas poop, so it was special,” Lucy replied as she wiped frosting from her mouth. “Aunt Miriam said so.”

Stifling a laugh, Mary hugged her daughter and flashed her aunt a smile. Teacher Alberta struck up “The First Noel,” and when the crowd joined in, the music rose in a rich, full swell that surely rivaled the heavenly chorus of that first Christmas. Mary stood up, singing along with Seth as she held the baby to her shoulder so folks in the back could see him. Emmanuel let out joyful squawks, laughing as he flapped his arms. The shepherds and kings and angels stood up, singing more earnestly, and it seemed the whole world was in tune . . . in harmony with the precious gift God had given so long ago when he'd sent His Son to earth in such humble surroundings.

The people near the front looked startled and then parted to make way—and when Mary saw her father's glowering face, the next notes of the carol stuck in her throat. Seth moved closer to her, singing louder, as though his music would keep her
dat
from causing a scene. As her father headed toward Bishop Tom, Mary's
mamm
paused on the front row to beam at them all, a loving glow on her face as she gazed at her grandson.

“Why did I figure you liberals in Willow Ridge would put on this brazen
spectacle
?” Dat's voice rose over the last line of the song. “Despite how the
Ordnung
clearly forbids us to attract attention with such unseemly—”

“
Gut
evening, Mose,” Ben spoke out. “And a blessed merry Christmas to ya!”

“What a fine surprise that ya came all the way from Bowling Green to celebrate the Lord's birth with us,” Bishop Tom chimed in. “Mighty glad to have ya!”

The crowd shifted, craning to see the man who'd interrupted their blissful Nativity scene. Mary was wishing a hole would open up in the ground and swallow her, but in the next moment's silence, it was her mother who reclaimed the evening's essence.

“Have you ever seen such a wondrous sight?” Mama asked with awe in her voice. “All my life I've heard the story of Christ's birth, but
this
—this live rendition—has made the miracle real for me so I can truly believe as never before.” She paused to look over at Mary's
dat
. “If just this once you'd be
silent
, Moses Miller, to behold this gift of God come down to Earth on this holiest of nights—”

Teacher Alberta began to sing “O Come, All Ye Faithful
.
” The children joined in, their voices strong and pure. They circled around to face Mary, Seth, and Emmanuel as the crowd joined in their singing. Mary beheld the innocent, winged angels in white . . . the humble, earnest shepherds . . . the wise men who'd come so far since Monday. Her heart swelled with the simple joy on their faces. Who could know fear or doubt or dismay while children sang about the birth of Jesus? If God had so loved the world, wasn't His love the solution to every earthly problem?

As her father continued to watch her and Seth and Emmanuel, Mary's strength welled up. Seth had slipped his arm around her shoulders, and then they were sitting down together on the hay bales. Lucy scrambled over to climb into Seth's lap and—not to be left out—Sol came over to sit up against Seth, as well. When Teacher Alberta began “Joy to the World
,
” the crowd sang out in full voice. It sounded as though
hundreds
of people had filled Ben's barnyard.

As Mary sang along, thrilling to the way Seth's voice blended with hers, she gazed upward at the shimmering star that swayed so peacefully above them. Yes, she would have to deal with Dat—again. But Mary knew she'd be pondering these other, lovelier things in her heart long, long after their visitors had gone home after this night of wonder . . . this night of love and light.