Looking for a Miracle (15 page)

The very thing Rebekah wanted most—to be courted by a man—particularly this man, was being offered to her right now. As much as it hurt, she knew she had to turn it down. She gazed into Daniel’s serious brown eyes and blinked rapidly. “I’m a cripple, and I’ll always be one.”

“I know that already.”

“But you don’t understand what it’s like for me.”

“I do understand, Rebekah.” He lifted one crutch and nodded at his broken leg.

“But your handicap is only temporary. Once your leg heals, you’ll throw those crutches away and walk like a normal man again.” She pushed her wheelchair toward the door. “Our relationship could never go any further than just the fun of courting, and as much as it pains me to say this, my answer has to be no.”

Daniel stepped between Rebekah and the door and stood for several seconds, staring at her like he didn’t quite believe what she’d said.

“Gut nacht, Daniel.” Rebekah opened the door and wheeled into the house without another word.

It had been four weeks since Daniel asked if he could court Rebekah, but the pain she felt over her decision made it seem like only yesterday. She dreaded facing Daniel at the preaching service again today, but there was no way she could get out of going because church was to be held in their home this time.

“Oh, you’re up,” Mom said as Rebekah rolled her wheelchair into the kitchen. “We must hurry and get breakfast on if we’re to be ready in time.”

Rebekah glanced out the kitchen window. Huge snowflakes fell like powdered sugar from the sky. “It’s starting to snow,” she said. “Maybe no one will come.”

Mom smiled. “It’s not coming down so hard. Besides, a little bit of snow isn’t likely to keep any of our people from worshiping God.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Rebekah sighed and wheeled away from the window. “What can I do to help?”

“You can set the table and cut the breakfast pie. I’ll have Nadine get out some cereal and milk when she comes in from collecting eggs.”

As if on cue, Nadine opened the back door and hustled into the kitchen. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, and she stamped snow off her feet. “Brrr ... it’s sure chilly out there. I think winter’s definitely on the way.” She set the basket of eggs on the counter, slipped out of her jacket, and hung it on a wall peg. “Soon I can get my sled out of the barn, and I’m sure it won’t be long until the ponds in the area will be frozen over. Then we can all go ice skating.”

Winter, with its drab, gray days and bitter chilling winds always makes me feel sad,
Rebekah thought.
Sledding and ice skating for me are out of the question, and Nadine knows that. Is she trying to rub vinegar on my wounds or start another argument with me this morning? Oh, if only...

“Rebekah, are you going to the singing at the Rabers’ tonight? Will your beau be bringin’ you home again?” Nadine asked suddenly.

Rebekah nearly dropped the plate she’d been about to place on the table. “My what?”

“Your boyfriend. We all know Daniel Beachy gave you a ride home in his courting buggy last month, and I saw him leaning real close to you after Dad came inside, so I’m guessing he’s pretty sweet on you, sister.”

Rebekah’s face heated with embarrassment. She hadn’t said a word to anyone in the family about Daniel’s offer to court her, and with good reason. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Nadine. Furthermore, you shouldn’t go around spying on people.”

“I wasn’t spying. I just happened to be looking out the living-room window when Daniel’s buggy pulled into the yard.” Nadine puckered her lips. “I’ll bet he even kissed you when he thought no one was looking.”

“He did no such thing!” Rebekah’s voice shook with emotion. So much for her resolve to get along better with Nadine and have more understanding.

“I’ll bet you’re just too embarrassed to admit it.”

Rebekah was about to offer a comeback, when Mom spoke up.

“Nadine, this little discussion has gone on long enough. Stop bothering your sister now. Rebekah will decide when to let us know what’s going on with her and Daniel, and she doesn’t need your teasing.”

Rebekah’s eyes filled with tears, clouding her vision. “The simple fact is that there’ll never be anything going on between me and Daniel except friendship. Now, can we get on with breakfast?”

Mom gave Rebekah a sympathetic look. “Jah, it’s on the way.”

All during breakfast, Nadine sulked, barely able to eat anything she had put on her plate. It didn’t seem fair that Mom always took Rebekah’s side on things, but it had been that way ever since Nadine could remember. She’d only been a baby when Rebekah had lost the use of her legs, so she had no memory of her sister ever walking in a normal way. Nadine had grown up watching her folks, especially Mom, treat Rebekah as if she was someone special—someone who always needed to be stuck up for and sheltered.

“Anything wrong with your eggs?” Dad asked, tapping Nadine on the shoulder.

She shook her head. “I’m not so hungry this morning.”

“You’re not feeling grank are you?” Mom asked with a look of concern. “If you are, then you’d better get upstairs and into bed.”

“I’m not sick.”

“Then why the sour face?” Simon asked, giving her arm a nudge.

First Dad and then her little brother. Nadine wished she had sat in another chair.

“I think she’s put out with me,” Rebekah spoke up before Nadine had a chance to respond.

“Why would that be?” Dad questioned.

“Because I got upset with her for spying on me and Daniel when he brought me home from the singing four weeks ago.”

Dad shook his finger in Nadine’s face. “You know better than to spy on your sister. What were you thinkin’ of, girl?”

“I wasn’t spying. I can’t help it that I happened to be looking out the window when Daniel and Rebekah were on the porch.”

“You were looking out the window so you could see what was going on.” Rebekah squinted at Nadine from across the table.

“No, I wasn’t trying to see what was going on. I was just—”

Mom held up her hand. “I’ve heard this once already, and I’m not in the mood for another go-round.” She pointed to Nadine’s plate. “Now hurry and finish your breakfast so we’re all ready when the others show up for church.”

Nadine’s stomach clenched as she picked up her fork and stabbed a piece of egg. Rebekah had won again.

As Rebekah rolled her wheelchair into the living room, she noticed that everything was in place and ready for the church service. The large hinged doors that separated the living room from the rest of the house had been flung open wide, and the furniture had been replaced with the traditional backless benches used in their worship services.

Soon everyone began to file into the house. The women and girls took their seats on one side of the room, while the men and boys sat on benches across from them.

Rebekah spotted Daniel sitting on a bench between his brothers, Abner and Harold, and she was pleased to note that the cast on his leg had been removed. When he smiled and nodded at her, she felt her face flame so she averted her gaze, hoping no one had noticed. There was no point in giving Daniel any reason to believe she might have changed her mind about them courting, and she certainly didn’t want to give anyone the impression that she was interested in him. It was bad enough that Nadine believed it to be so.

The three-hour service seemed to take longer than usual, and the room grew hot and stuffy, despite the cold day. Rebekah fidgeted in her wheelchair, wishing she could be someplace where there was some fresh air to breathe. In spite of the fact that the padded seat of her wheelchair was a lot more comfortable than the hard, wooden benches, she was getting tired of sitting and felt relief when the service was finally over and she could wheel into the kitchen to help with the noon meal.

Several tables were set up throughout the house, and the guests ate a nourishing lunch of soup and sandwiches, followed by cookies and plenty of hot coffee and apple cider.

The men and boys were fed first, and Rebekah made certain that the group she helped serve were the ones farthest away from the table where Daniel and his brothers sat. Nadine had been assigned to that table, and Rebekah was grateful.

When the men and boys were done eating, they headed outside to the barn. Then the women and girls sat down to their meal. It was during this time that Rebekah was able to visit with Mary Ellen.

“How’s it going with being a full-time wife and not teaching school anymore?” she asked.

Mary Ellen shrugged as she offered Rebekah a wide smile. “I’m getting used to it now. Besides, being married to Johnny makes me happy.”

Rebekah didn’t know quite how to respond. She wanted to express happiness for her friend. She would have liked to say that she, too, was in love and hoped to be married. However, she said neither, for she was sure she would never marry or find that kind of joy.

“I hear you and Daniel Beachy have begun courting,” Mary Ellen said suddenly.

“What?” Rebekah’s mouth fell open. “Where did you ever hear such a thing?”

“Someone who attended the last singing said Daniel took you home.” Mary Ellen grinned at Rebekah. “I always did think he had an interest in you.”

“So he says.”

“Then you’ve agreed to begin courting?”

“I told him no.”

“You what?” Mary Ellen’s wide-open eyes revealed her obvious surprise. “Oh, Rebekah, why? Don’t you care for Daniel at all?”

Rebekah nodded. “I care very much for him.”

“Then why won’t you let him court you?”

“You, of all people, should know the answer to that. You’ve been my friend a long time, and I’ve shared many things with you.”

“It’s about your handicap, right?”

Rebekah nodded, her eyes filling with tears. “I care for Daniel, but if we started courting, he might want marriage—and later, kinner. I can’t give him those things, and you know it.”

“I know of no such thing, and neither do you. If you’ll just trust God and give yourself half a chance—”

“A chance to do what? I’m not a complete woman. I could never make Daniel happy.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Don’t say what?” Nadine asked as she joined the women at their end of the table.

Rebekah’s head snapped up. “Nothing. It was nothing important.”

“I think you two must have been talkin’ about boys. Everyone always closes up like a star tulip whenever I come along. Mom especially does that. She thinks I’m too young to be thinkin’ about boys.” Nadine clicked her tongue. “It’s just because I’m the boppli of the family—that’s all.”

Mary Ellen squeezed Nadine’s arm. “Just hold on a bit longer, for your time is coming. Sooner than you think, you’ll end up like me—an old married woman.”

Nadine shook her head. “You’re not old, Mary Ellen, but you sure are pretty. No wonder Johnny wanted to marry you.” She glanced over at Rebekah. “My sister has a boyfriend, too, only she won’t ’fess up to it.”

Rebekah slammed her empty coffee cup down with such force that she thought it might be broken. When she realized it wasn’t, she gave it a little shove, then pushed her wheelchair away from the table. “I’m going outside for some fresh air!”

As Rebekah left the room, Mary Ellen looked over at Nadine and shook her head. “I wish I knew what’s gotten into your sister today. She sure seems upset.”

“Rebekah’s always upset about something.” Nadine grunted. “Of course, she gets away with it because of her handicap.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Mom’s always taking Rebekah’s side, and she favors her over me.”

“Your mamm has always taken good care of Rebekah, but from what I’ve seen, she’s not treated her any different than you or Simon.”

“
Humph!
You don’t live at our house, and you don’t see how Mom takes Rebekah’s side on every little thing. Why, just this morning, Rebekah and me were having a disagreement about her relationship with Daniel, and Mom told me to quit bothering Rebekah.” Nadine folded her arms. “Why doesn’t she get after Rebekah for her negative attitude instead of always scolding me?”

“I don’t know the answer to that, but I do know that it must be hard for your sister to be confined to either her wheelchair or those rigid leg braces and crutches she sometimes uses.” Mary Ellen studied Nadine’s serious face. “I know it’s not easy for you, but maybe you should try a little harder to have more understanding for Rebekah instead of arguing with her about things that don’t really matter or feeling resentful because she receives a little more attention than you do at times.” She paused a moment to gauge Nadine’s reaction, but the young woman just sat staring at the table.

“Your folks love you and Simon as much as they do Rebekah,” Mary Ellen continued. “And I’m sure it hurts them when any of their kinner has a disagreement. So won’t you try a little harder to get along with your sister and be more understanding?”

Tears welled in Nadine’s eyes, and she nodded slowly. “I’ll try, but I promise you, it won’t be easy.”

“I’ll be praying for both you and Rebekah,” Mary Ellen said.

“Danki.” Nadine scooted off the bench. “Guess I’ll go visit with some of my friends for a while.”

A few minutes after Nadine left, Mary Ellen noticed that Mama Mim was heading her way. Maybe she would have a talk with her about Rebekah’s gloomy mood and see what she had to say.

Rebekah sat on the front porch, wrapped in a heavy shawl and breathing in the crisp, cool, afternoon air. The sun peeked out between fluffy white clouds, casting a golden tint on the gently rolling hills. A light dusting of powdery snow rested on most of the trees.

A group of boys played tug-of-war in the driveway, and a few men stood on the lawn, visiting.
The rest of the men must be out in the barn,
Rebekah decided. She was glad Daniel wasn’t among those who were still outside, for she didn’t want to face him.

She released the brake on her wheelchair and rolled down the wooden ramp. Up the path leading to her greenhouse she went, feeling the need for some solitude. A time to think and enjoy all the plants might help get her mind off Daniel.

When Rebekah entered the greenhouse a few minutes later, she lit a gas lantern so she would have more light. It was chilly in the first section of the building, so she added a few logs to the burning embers inside the woodstove, thankful that Dad had placed them within easy reach.

Once the fire was going well, Rebekah moved into the glassed-in section of her greenhouse. Between the kerosene heater and the solar panels, this area was always plenty warm. She rolled her wheelchair up and down the aisles, drinking in the rich colors and fragrant smells coming from the variety of plants.

“If this is the only miracle You ever give me, Lord, then I’ll learn to be content,” Rebekah whispered. Even as she said the words, a feeling of emptiness settled over her like a heavy fog. Was the greenhouse really enough? Could she learn to be content?

She reached for a lacy-edged, pink African violet and held the pot as though it were a baby. She thought about Aunt Grace, who would be holding a real baby in just a few months, and about Mary Ellen, recently married. Unlike her aunt or cousin, Rebekah’s fingers might often caress a delicate plant but never a husband’s bearded face. Like as not, her hands would change potting soil, not dirty diapers. As much as she enjoyed working with plants, they weren’t the same as a living, breathing human being, who could offer love in return.

Rebekah startled when she heard the front door of the greenhouse creak open, then snap shut. “Who’s there?” she called out, drawing in a quick breath.

“It’s me, Rebekah—Aunt Mim.”

Rebekah expelled her breath, feeling a sense of relief that it wasn’t Daniel.

“I’m back here!”

Aunt Mim poked her head through the doorway and smiled. “I haven’t been in here since your opening day. I see you’ve made quite a few changes.”

Rebekah nodded. “ I’m selling more items now. Daniel Beachy gave me plenty of good ideas, and all the wooden items you see are his handmade creations.”

“So your business is doing well then?”

“Better than I ever expected.” Rebekah placed the African violet back on the shelf. “Of course, winter’s almost here, and I won’t have nearly as many customers now as I did in the summer.”

“No, I suppose not,” her aunt agreed. “But then, a young woman can certainly find other ways to fill the long winter hours.”

Rebekah shrugged. “I suppose I can always quilt or do some other type of handwork. And there’s the column I write for
The Budget.
That keeps me busy.”

Aunt Mim gave her a wide smile and moved closer to the wheelchair. “It wasn’t sewing or writing news about our community I had in mind, Rebekah.”

“What did you have in mind for someone like me?” Rebekah asked with a catch in her voice.

Aunt Mim pulled out a wooden stool and sat down beside her. “I was thinking more about courting. I hear you have a suitor these days.”

“Mary Ellen Hilty—I mean, Yoder. You are such a blabbermouth!”

“Don’t be so hard on Mary Ellen,” Aunt Mim said softly. “She only cares about your happiness.”

“Jah, well, she can care without meddling. I suppose she saw me come in here and asked you to have a talk with me.”

Aunt Mim shook her head. “She shared her concerns, but it was my idea to speak with you.” She placed a gentle hand on Rebekah’s arm. “I believe I can help. I think you should hear my story.”

“Your story?”

“Jah.”

“You used to read me stories when I was a kinner. Why do you think I need to hear one now?”

“Because, sweet niece, I think my story might teach you something.”

Rebekah leaned her head against the back of her wheelchair and closed her eyes. “I’m ready to hear your story.”

“Once there was a young woman named Miriam Stoltzfus. She fell in love with her childhood sweetheart, and he broke her heart when he moved away and married someone else. Miriam became bitter and angry. She didn’t trust men and resolved never to marry. Miriam even blamed God for all her troubles. Her pupils at the one-room schoolhouse often talked behind her back, saying she had a heart of stone.”

Rebekah nodded. She remembered hearing such talk.

“And so,” Aunt Mim continued, “the bitter old-maid schoolteacher decided she could do everything in her own strength. She even forgot how to pray.

“Then one day after school had been dismissed, she told her young niece that she would give her a ride home. A few minutes later after the child had gone outside to wait for her, Miriam heard a clap of thunder, then an awful, ear-piercing snap, followed by a scream. She rushed outside, only to find her favorite niece lying on the ground with the limb of a tree lying across her back.”

Aunt Mim paused a moment as though it pained her to relive the past. After inhaling a deep breath, she finally continued. “The doctor said Rebekah’s spinal cord had been injured and that she would probably never walk again. Miriam’s heart was broken, and she blamed herself for the tragic accident.”

Rebekah’s eyelids fluttered. “You—you blamed yourself? I never knew that.”

Aunt Mim nodded, her eyes brimming with tears. “I’m the one who said you could wait outside, and I felt responsible for what had happened.”

“I never faulted you at all, Aunt Mim.” Rebekah’s vision blurred with her own tears. It nearly broke her heart to think that her aunt had blamed herself.

Aunt Mim touched Rebekah’s shoulder. “I know you didn’t. As a young girl, you were always so happy and accepting of your limitations. However, as you grew, I saw a change come on. You began to withdraw and seemed unsure of yourself.” She made a sweeping gesture at the room. “When you opened this new business, I thought things might be different. I was hoping you would see that your handicap couldn’t keep you from reaching your goals. I prayed that God would send the right man into your life so you would find the joy of being in love, too.”

Rebekah slowly shook her head. “I couldn’t put the burden of my handicap on Daniel. It wouldn’t be fair.”

Aunt Mim’s forehead wrinkled. “I think we’d better get back to my story.”

“All right then. I’m all ears.” Rebekah leaned her head back again, but this time she kept her eyes open.

“Well, Miriam Stoltzfus almost made a huge mistake. She met an English man, and after a while, he tried to talk her into leaving the Amish faith.”

Rebekah’s mouth fell open. “An English man? He asked you to leave the faith?”

“Jah. Do you remember when a reporter came into your hospital room shortly after the accident?”

“The picture man?”

“Right. The one who took your picture and put it in the English newspaper.”

Rebekah squinted. “He’s the one who asked you to leave the faith?”

Aunt Mim nodded. “We’d become friends, and there was a certain magnetism between us.” She sighed. “But despite my attraction to Nick, I knew I could never give up my Amish way of life—although I still wasn’t right with God at that time.”

“So what did you do?”

“I made the wisest decision of my life. I married Amos Hilty.” Aunt Mim crinkled her nose a bit. “When he first asked me to marry him, I turned him down.”

“Didn’t you care for him?” Rebekah could hardly imagine such a thing. Aunt Mim and Uncle Amos seemed to be so much in love.

Aunt Mim shrugged. “I didn’t give myself a chance to find out whether I cared or not. I was so certain that Amos would let me down just as my first beau had done. I didn’t think I could trust God to bring happiness into such an empty, bitter life as mine.”

“But you did marry Uncle Amos, and you seem to be very happy.”

Aunt Mim’s eyes filled with another set of tears, and she sniffed deeply as she swiped them off her cheeks. “Jah, I’m happy and have been for a good many years. You see, one day God showed me something very important.”

“What was that?”

“He let me know that my bitterness and blaming myself for so many things was of my own doing. He showed me that I could shed all my doubts and hurts from the past. God can do that for you, too, Rebekah. He wants you to be happy, and if you’ll only trust Him, He can work a miracle in your life, just as He did mine.”

A miracle.
Wasn’t that exactly what Rebekah had been looking for—an honest-to-goodness, true miracle from God? But could she take a leap of faith toward love and possibly marriage? She wanted to—more than anything—but she was afraid of failing.

“Well, I think I’d better stop now. Stories from my past are good, but Rebekah, you’ll never know what God can do until you give Him the chance. If Daniel loves you, then he will accept you—imperfections and all.”

Rebekah blinked back a fresh set of tears. “I’ll try to take the step of faith I need to find love. Will you pray that I’ll have the strength to do it?”

Aunt Mim bent down and gave Rebekah a hug. “I’ll be praying, and may the Lord be with you, sweet niece.”

Rebekah’s wheelchair rattled down the path toward the barn. She could only hope that Daniel and his family hadn’t left for home yet. If she could just have the chance to speak with him alone for a few minutes, it might be that they could talk things out. If he hadn’t changed his mind about them, maybe she would allow him to come calling on her after all.

When Rebekah reached the barn, she pushed open the side door and peered inside. Several clusters of men and boys filled the area—some talking, some playing games. She didn’t see any sign of Daniel or his family, though.

Dad spotted her and came over to the door. “What’s up, Rebekah? Did you need something?”

She shook her head. “I was looking for Daniel Beachy, that’s all.”

“I saw him leave with his folks awhile ago, and his brothers and sister left even before that.”

“Do you know where Simon is, then?”

“I think he’s outside. He and some of the other fellows his age were planning to get a game of corner-ball going.”

“Okay, danki.” Rebekah wheeled into the chilly air again. She knew what she had to do, but she’d better do it before she lost her nerve.

Dad had been right. She spotted Simon and a group of boys playing ball—in the snow, of all things. Rebekah sat on the sidelines until Simon looked her way; then she motioned for him to come over.

He kept playing a few more minutes but finally ambled her way. “What do you want, and why are you sittin’ out here in the cold? Don’t you know it might start snowing again?”

“Jah, I know it’s cold, but I—I need your help.” Rebekah clung desperately to her brother’s arm.

“What do you need my help for?”

“Could you please hitch one of our more gentle horses to the buggy and help me get inside?”

His eyebrows lifted high on his forehead. “Inside the buggy?”

“Of course, inside the buggy. What else would I be talking about?”

“Where are you going, and who’s going with you?”

“I–I’d rather not say. I just need to go, that’s all.”

Simon’s mouth dropped open. “I hope you’re only jokin’ about this, sister.”

“No, I’m not. I need to go someplace, and I know Dad won’t allow me to head out alone so I’m asking for your help.”

“You want me to go with you?”

She shook her head. “I need to do this alone. I just want you to get the buggy ready and help me inside. I’ll leave my wheelchair in the buggy shed.”

“Oh, sure, so I can be the one Dad hollers at? You know I’ll be in big trouble if he finds out I helped you do such a stupid thing.”

“Then we’ll have to be sure that he doesn’t find out.”

Simon grunted. “All right, then, but you’ll owe me big for this one.”