An Amish Christmas (18 page)

She might not be Amish, but she could learn a lesson from them. She smoothed her hair and composed her face. She didn’t try to adopt a cheerful smile but quietly returned to her task. From the other women’s behavior, it was impossible to tell that anyone had noticed her children’s bickering. Meg was immediately absorbed back into the conversation.

The sun was beginning to set when she went outside to take a break, a steaming mug of coffee in hand. The kitchen had been growing progressively hotter, but the extreme cold instantly made her appreciate the coffee’s warmth. Not having put on her coat, she held one arm tightly across her midsection, shivering a bit while she sipped on the hot drink.

Out on the main road, she spotted Will and Eli, both on skateboards. Will, she noticed, was using his own, the one she had salvaged. She was glad she had. A number of the children here had skateboards, so it had been useful for Will to have his. At the moment he and Eli were clearly racing, both speeding from some unknown starting point. Meg stifled her natural impulse to yell out at Will to slow down, knowing he would never do it, especially considering he was in the middle of an actual race. She just held the mug’s handle a bit more tightly. They were really flying, she thought. When they passed the designated finish line, they both slowed down and then stopped sharply. Eli held up his fist in a momentary gesture of victory.

Meg watched Will skate over to talk animatedly to Eli, who nodded. She could guess that her son wasn’t willing to concede defeat so easily; he would be making sure he got another crack
at winning. Reversing direction, the boys aligned themselves side by side, and she could hear Will’s voice as he shouted “Go!”

This time Meg could almost feel her son’s determination as he increased his speed, his head slightly lowered, his body locked into position. Eli was going fast, too, but his body didn’t communicate the same frantic desire to win. Sure enough, Will sailed over the finish line well ahead of Eli. Will jumped off his skateboard, repeatedly pumping his fists in the air. Eli came to a full stop, one foot on the ground. He appeared to be patiently waiting for Will to finish his strutting. Then, with a wave of his arm, Will challenged Eli to two out of three. They took off down the street once more.

Eli got there first, just barely. He simply bent over, picked up his skateboard, and stood there. Will brought his skateboard to a screeching halt, jumped off, and gave it a good kick. Meg watched her son, his arm’s jerky gesticulations indicating his displeasure as he undoubtedly ranted about whatever he believed had caused him to lose. Eli shrugged. Will went on for a bit more until the other boy nodded toward his parents’ house and started walking. Will stared after him. Eli stopped, turned back, and put out a hand as if to ask whether Will was coming. Meg observed Will take a moment, then grab his skateboard and drag himself after the other boy. As soon as he caught up, Eli leaned in to him and said something that made Will laugh.

Meg sighed. All boys may like to win, she reflected, but not all boys need to rub their opponents’ faces in it when they do. Will had been treated to an example of a gracious winner. She hoped with all her heart that he had taken note.

The screen door opened, and Catherine stuck her head out. “We are done here,” she said to Meg. “It is time to go back to my house now.”

Meg nodded and stopped inside to wash her coffee mug. It was almost dark and growing still colder as the two of them walked toward the house. Talking along the way, Meg learned Barbara’s soon-to-be-in-laws ran a dairy farm, but Moses, the man Barbara was marrying, was their youngest son, and they were elderly, ready to retire. They were handing over the main responsibilities for the farm to Moses and Barbara, who would move into the main house. His parents had built an attached house for themselves, which Meg learned was called a
Grossdaadi Haus
, just like the one in which Leah and Old Samuel lived.

“This is how it happened with David and me,” Catherine finished as they came into her house and hung up their outer clothes on the wall pegs. “His parents lived in this part before we were married. We built the house across the road for our son Joseph when he married Sue, and that is the biggest one of all of them.”

Meg tried to imagine having in-laws living in an attachment to her house in Charlotte. Thinking of Leah, she gazed at Catherine with new admiration.

Almost as if she had read Meg’s mind, Catherine said, “We respect the elders of the community very much. It is a good thing when you grow old here—no one is alone, we are all together.”

Ashamed of her uncharitable thoughts, Meg nodded.

“Mommy!” Sam came bounding into the room. “I thought you would never get home! I want to tell you about my day at school.”

“I can’t wait to hear.” Meg hugged him tightly. “Let’s sit down, and you’ll tell me everything.”

“It was great!” he announced as they settled themselves on the couch.

“Doesn’t Daddy want to hear this? We should get him,” Meg said.

“I already told him in the barn. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t wait anymore, and you just weren’t anywhere.”

She smiled. “Okay, go ahead.”

“It was soooo different from at home,” Sam gushed. “The teacher’s name is Sarah, and they call her that, her first name. There was a fire in this old-fashioned stove to warm up the room, and she put some of the lunch stuff on it so it would be hot later. Like my soup.”

“Clever,” Meg said.

“Yeah, one kid had a baked potato wrapped in foil stuff, and it cooked right there by lunch!”

Meg nodded. “I like that idea. Neat trick.”

“Sarah was super nice. So, all these kids are together, all different ages, up to the eighth grade.” Sam’s voice dropped to an awed whisper. “They’re really well behaved, you wouldn’t believe it. I mean, it was crazy. I know Mrs. Whitford wouldn’t believe it.”

Meg smiled. Mrs. Whitford had been Sam’s teacher in Charlotte.

“They said prayers and sang songs. Some of them were in German. I didn’t know any of them, so I just sat there next to Aaron, trying to look like I knew what was going on. As if!”

“I’m sure they didn’t expect you to,” Meg pointed out.

“They were so nice to me.” The words came rushing out. “Everybody did different things, ’cause of what age they were. Big kids helped littler kids. They did math and reading, all stuff like I do. We had recess and played games. I got to play darts. It was awesome.” Sam stood up. “I could see it—going to school just till eighth grade, working on the farm.” He looked thoughtful, then shrugged. “But I’m not Amish, and we don’t have a farm, so there you go,” he finished. “I gotta find Old Samuel. Y’know, he actually
whittles
. I’ve never seen anybody whittle in real life. He’s going to show me how. And I have to find Rufus.”

“See you later, then.”

“It was a super-cool day, Mom. Bye.” He ran off.

A super-cool day indeed, she thought.

Dinner was delayed that evening as they waited for Jonathan and James to get back. They had gone to check on the progress of the Mustang after David told them a message from the repair shop had been left on the answering machine for James. When they finally arrived and everyone sat down for the meal, James announced that he had been summoned to the repair shop only to okay the paint job. The car wouldn’t be ready for another week.

Meg watched the reactions on her children’s faces. Predictably, Sam looked delighted, while Will and Lizzie were horrified. Meg herself had mixed feelings. They should be getting back to their own lives, yet she knew how wrenching it would
be to leave the Lutz family. She had to admit she did not feel as bad about the delay as perhaps she should.

Later on, when she and James found themselves alone in their bedroom, she questioned him further about the car.

“The guy wanted to make sure I was okay about his just repainting the damaged part of the car instead of painting the whole thing,” he said. “It looked great, but we’re still stuck. What would happen if we weren’t here with these people?”

“They’ve been amazing,” Meg said. “Feeding us, lending us everything we need.”

“I know, I know,” James retorted. “You don’t have to remind me that we have no money. That we’re charity cases because of me.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Meg said, stiffening. “Not everything is an indictment of you.”

“Well, that’s how it feels.”

“Maybe that’s because it should be,” she snapped. “You have yet to say or do anything to show that you even get it. That you have a clue about what you did.”

“I know what I did.”

“I mean what you did
to us
. Me and the kids. You don’t seem to get that at all.”

“What do you want me to do, Meg? I’m sorry, but I can’t replace the money.”

She glared at him. “It’s not about the money, I keep trying to tell you that. It’s that I can’t trust you. On any level. So where does that leave us?”

His reply was angry and abrupt. “Damned if I know.” He left the room, and she listened to his footsteps go down the stairs.

Meg didn’t want to sit alone in the bedroom, thinking about how angry she was. She decided to go downstairs and see if anyone might be around. What she found were six children she didn’t recognize playing with the younger Lutz children and her son Sam, all of them illuminated by the fire and the glow of kerosene lamps. They were spread out around the room snacking on bowls of popcorn.

Meg saw four Amish women she hadn’t encountered seated at the kitchen table with Catherine, Leah, and Amanda, most of them working on a quilt.

“Oh, excuse me,” Meg said, pausing in the doorway. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Catherine gestured to a chair. “Come in, Meg.”

Meg sat at a little distance from the group so she wouldn’t be in their way. Introductions were made. It appeared they were fairly far along with the quilt, which had numerous pieces of fabric sewn into intricate patterns on a black background. She craned her neck to study it. “That is absolutely beautiful,” she exclaimed.

One of the women, who appeared to be in her seventies, looked up to peer at Meg. Her English was heavily accented, but Meg could make it out. “It is for the schoolteacher. A Christmas present from the families.”

“Sarah,” Meg recalled aloud.

The woman smiled. “Yes. You know of her?”

“My son spent today at the school. He enjoyed it very much.”

One of the other women looked up at her. “My daughter told me about the little English boy with Aaron.”

Meg nodded. “Yes, Sam is my son.”

The second woman said something to the others in their own language. They all smiled as they continued to work.

Catherine turned to Meg. “She is explaining how my father-in-law calls him Young Samuel.” She was sewing the hem of a white apron.

“No quilting for you?” Meg asked.

“Not tonight,” Catherine answered. “This is for Barbara to wear at her wedding. After this, I will finish work on her cape. She wears special white clothes. They look like our other clothes, but new ones, for this use only.”

“Almost only …” Leah put in, without taking her eyes off her work.

“True.” Catherine nodded. “After the wedding they are put away, and she will be buried in them.”

Meg hoped her face didn’t betray her surprise at this piece of information. She turned the idea over in her mind. She supposed it all fit, the tight linking of family traditions.

“Do you also make these quilts to sell, or only for yourselves?” Meg asked.

“Both.” The older woman answered again for all of them. “We maybe do some different patterns for the tourists, things they like. They are often on white backgrounds.”

Catherine went on, “We sew many different designs. Like Wedding Ring, which is circles that are locking together. We have many kinds.”

Another woman glanced up at Meg. “Can you sew?”

“No, not really.” Meg tried not to feel abashed by her ignorance of what was a most basic skill to these people. “I can knit
a little,” she added with a laugh, “but just enough to make a scarf, I’m afraid.”

Leah, who was sitting next to Amanda, leaned over to her and whispered something into her granddaughter’s ear. Amanda nodded, excused herself, and left the room. She returned a few minutes later with a skein of dark-blue wool and two knitting needles.

“Maybe you would like to make scarves for your children,” Leah said. “I see they do not have.”

Meg didn’t know what made her feel more taken aback—the fact that Leah would do such a kind thing for her, or that she had bothered to notice Meg’s children weren’t dressed properly and cared enough to do something to rectify the situation.

“Thank you very, very much,” Meg said to her. “It’s a lot warmer in our home state, and the children don’t have the proper clothes here. This means a great deal to me.”

Leah gave a little nod. “I have more of this blue wool” was all she said.

Now, thought Meg, let’s hope I can remember how to do it.

Happily, her fingers seemed to begin casting on by themselves, and she became engrossed in knitting. The women worked mainly in silence, but occasionally they shared an observation. When the subject turned to Barbara’s wedding on Tuesday, they became more animated, discussing what had yet to be done.

“Soon it will be finished, a wonderful memory,” one of the women said to Catherine. “You will go back to visiting.”

Meg looked at her inquiringly.

“In the cold months,” Catherine explained, “we do much visiting with family and our friends. The wedding keeps us busy now, but after, we will go to people’s houses, and they will come to ours.”

“Especially Barbara and Moses,” Amanda added. “They go on so many visits after. That is when many people give them the wedding presents, and it’s time to see a lot of the people who came.”

Everyone resumed their tasks in silence. In the background, the children moved about, most of them in their socks, their conversation punctuated by loud bursts of laughter. Every so often a young child would approach the table and look at Meg before whispering a question. Sam, she saw, was fully absorbed in a game of Sorry with two boys she didn’t recognize.