Page 8 of The Christmas House
The next day being an off-Sunday from Preaching, Liz, Martha, and their Mamm bundled up and headed out in the family carriage to visit relatives following a light noon meal.
Their first stop was to see Liz’s elderly paternal grandparents, who lived a half mile away in their cozy Dawdi Haus .
Liz’s grandmother said she looked forward to spending all day with family on Thanksgiving—“a time to create new memories.”
Later, they visited eldest brother, Reuben, and his wife, Gracie, and their family, where Martha Rose read a picture book to the sometimes feisty six-year-old Mary Ruth while Liz played with eighteen-month-old Yonnie, who babbled in Deitsch nearly the whole time.
On the return trip, Liz perked up when Mamm mentioned a Bird-in-Hand food pantry that had put out a plea for canned goods. “I heard about it at a quilting frolic yesterday.”
Right away, Liz thought of Matt, who’d talked so happily about working at such a place on his days off from buggy tours. Could it be the same one?
Matt had also crossed her mind earlier that morning while she was reading from Scripture. Blessed is he that considereth the poor : the L ord will deliver him in time of trouble , Psalm forty-one declared.
Should I even be thinking about Matt? Once Adam’s home , I won’t be seein’ him again.
As was her weekly routine, Liz helped Mamm and Martha pin the washing to the clothesline early Monday morning. Although it was only twenty-seven degrees and the clothing would likely freeze, all would be well once they brought the hard, flat items inside to thaw.
Afterward, Liz rolled out enough dough for two pie crusts for the large chicken pot pie Martha was making while Mamm made lemon bars for their dessert. Mmm , tasty , Liz thought.
Following the noon meal, Liz hitched Charlie up to the family buggy when Martha Rose was occupied selling eggs to one of their regular customers. Liz was eager to head over to the fabric store in Intercourse Village, one of her favorite places to shop.
Lo and behold, standing in line at the checkout counter was Ashley Hyatt, one of the owners of the Christmas House. Only once before had Liz encountered the woman since the family had moved to Hickory Hollow, a time when Ashley had approached Liz’s touring carriage to speak with her briefly.
But Liz didn’t try to get Ashley’s attention today since customers were milling about—often the case on a Monday afternoon.
While everyone’s washing is freeze-drying , Liz mused, making her way to the shelves of solid-color fabrics, wanting some royal blue material to make a new Sunday dress for herself.
She also needed several yards of faux fur for Mamm, who planned to make a batch of hand muffs for the women riding on the buggy tours during cold snaps like today’s frosty weather.
Last December, the muffs had been so popular, some customers had asked to purchase them.
Surprised at that, Mamm had already increased the number to make this year, something Liz was happy to facilitate.
It didn’t take long for Liz to find the dress material she was looking for.
From her vantage point, she could still see Ashley, who was just now removing her fleece sports jacket to reveal a pair of skin-tight, lime-green athletic leggings and a matching long-sleeved top.
Her face was flushed pink and her brown hair stuck to her temples beneath a black-and-white visor.
From the looks of her, Liz assumed she must have ridden to the shop on her bike, a distance of at least three miles.
Just ahead of Ashley in line, two little Amish girls turned suddenly to face her, their eyes opening wide as they looked her over, up and down, openly staring.
They’ve prob’ly never seen such a getup , thought Liz, feeling sorry for Ashley. She must feel like a foreigner amidst all these long cape dresses and aprons.
Ashley simply smiled at the girls. However, before they could react, their mother placed a hand on the older girl’s shoulder and moved her forward, speaking firmly in Deitsch to both of them . Ashley visibly flinched, not understanding what the Amish mother had said.
Liz clenched her jaw. Has anyone welcomed Ashley?
It was earlier than Matt’s usual arrival on Tuesday morning when he came into the break room at the hardware store along with Onkel Joe.
Surprised, Liz was glad for the company.
Joe seemed to have a big talk on, discussing the unusually dry but cold weather.
“Still no snow in sight,” he said as he poured coffee for the two of them.
“My Dat’s been prayin’ for moisture,” Matt said. “What with the near drought conditions.”
After a few minutes of similar small talk, Onkel Joe left the room, and Matt rose for a second cup of coffee. “How were your days off, Liz?” he asked.
She mentioned the Sunday afternoon visit to her Dat’s parents, as well as to big brother Reuben and family. “How ’bout yours?”
“We had Preachin’ service and stayed for the fellowship meal. Mamm and my three teenage sisters were assigned to help serve and clean up, which meant plenty of time for me to visit with my buddy group out near the stable. Us single guys like to catch up now and then.”
“So ya must’ve had a Singing that evening?” she ventured.
He nodded. “I went for the first half, and after refreshments, I headed home.”
She wondered why a nice-lookin’ guy like Matt had left early. Wasn’t he seeing anyone? “My brother Adam often says the refreshments are the reason he goes!” She smiled. “Well, that and the fellowship. But he can’t sing on pitch, which embarrasses him. Poor guy.”
“Understandable.”
“Singin’ off pitch hasn’t kept the girls away, though,” Liz added before catching herself. She grimaced, but Matt’s eyes twinkled. “ Ach , I shouldn’t have said—”
“ Nee , it’s all right, Liz. Say whatever’s on your mind.”
She was relieved at his response. Now, as she thought about it, there hadn’t been any so-called ice to break between them from one touring day to the next, even with a few days off between Saturday and Tuesday.
Truth be told, Matt seemed more relaxed around her than even her own brother.
And she realized she would miss him once Adam returned.
That Thursday, Liz attended a cousin’s wedding with Martha Rose, and they stayed for the feast that followed. Martha’s beau was there, too, so Liz returned home alone later that afternoon to spend time with Mamm, who’d been rather quiet lately.
By the light of the gas lamp in the front room, Liz hand-sewed muffs with Mamm, who was sitting in Dat’s rocking chair near the black heater stove. As they sewed, Liz tried to encourage her. “Only five weeks or so before Dat and Adam are home again.”
Mamm glanced up. “’Tween you an’ me, I’ve been crossin’ off the days on my calendar upstairs. We’ve never been apart for this long.”
“I’m sure Dat misses ya, too.”
Mamm’s eyes turned soft. “I remember when we were courtin’, he’d write every other day or so. And we only lived a mile from each other. Ain’t that somethin’?”
“That’s sweet.”
“Even after we wed, your Dat hasn’t stopped sayin’—or writin’—how much he loves me.” Mamm smiled as she cut a piece of fur for the next muff. “Mind you, he doesn’t just say it. He shows his love every day ... bein’ patient and kind.”
Liz pondered that for a moment. “If only every girl could marry a man like that.”
“Well, I’ve been prayin’ that way for you and Martha Rose, just as I did for your married sisters. The dear Lord has given us such fine sons-in-law, and I believe He’ll do the same for our youngest girls.”
Hearing this, Liz’s heart filled with gratitude and she let her mother’s precious words sink deep into her heart. “ Denki , Mamm. I know you’ll keep prayin’.”
When Martha Rose arrived home late that night after Ben Fisher dropped her off, Liz tiptoed over to her room. “I have an idea ... somethin’ to cheer up Mamm.”
“She has been a little blue lately,” Martha replied.
“What if we hosted a Sisters Day get-together next Monday afternoon? We could invite Mamm’s four sisters and five sisters-in-law, have pie and coffee, and play some table games.”
“Sounds perfect,” Martha said, taking her hair down and brushing it. “And let’s make it a surprise, okay?”
“It’ll show how much we all love her.”
“I’ll get the word out,” Martha said, then paused. “Mamm won’t be embarrassed ’bout this extra attention, will she?”
“I think she’ll enjoy herself. It’s been a while since all her sisters and sisters-in-law have been in the same place at the same time. And it’ll be nice to have a get-together like this before Thanksgiving.”
“I’ll bake some dessert bars and a few pies. Hopefully, Mamm won’t wonder ’bout that, though. I’ll figure out somethin’.” Martha set her hairbrush down.
“I can help ya contact Mamm’s sisters,” Liz offered. “Just want to help Mamm get through ’til Dat’s home, ya know? She could use a little encouragement.”
Nodding, Martha sat beside Liz on the bed. “I wish I were more like you.”
Liz slipped her arm around her. “Well, I think you’re just fine—sweet as peppermint taffy.”
Later, when Liz was snug beneath her warm handmade bed quilts, she thanked God for a loving, caring mother who devoted time to prayer for the young men who would someday wed her last two daughters living at home. Mamm’s prayers are a gift.