Abby Finds Her Calling (36 page)

Mamm’s eyes widened and she sat forward. “Haven’t had any dreams like that, have you, son?” she queried in a nervous voice. “None of us are thinking Zanna’s gonna bear another child who’ll change the whole world like Jesus did, but… well, we wouldn’t want to miss any signs like Joseph got in his dream, either.”

Emma’s eyes widened. She looked at James as though to ask where on earth this line of thought was coming from. “Mamm, we’re all tired and we need to pray before we get you off to bed,” she suggested.

“What’re ya sayin’, Eunice?” his dat blurted. “Zanna’s baby has already changed the whole world, on account of how not a one of us’ll be the same because of this child. Ain’t so, son?”

James blinked. Dat had said a mouthful there, hadn’t he? And once again, in that inexplicable way his unpredictable mind worked, their father had made the Scriptures fit their situation more closely than they could have imagined. And he had put James on the spot with his question, too.

“I believe,” James said slowly, hoping not to bungle his answer, “that God has a reason for the way things are happening for Zanna—and, jah, for me, too. And while I haven’t heard angels in my dreams, telling me how things will work out, I trust Jesus to help us make sense of how our lives are supposed to move forward.”

As he looked at his parents, who seemed to be shrinking into fragility as the months passed, he had a fleeting thought that a Christmas would soon come when they wouldn’t both be conversing this way. “Shall we pray and then call it a day?” he suggested quietly.

After they had all bowed their heads in silence, Emma went upstairs with their parents to be sure their clothes were laid out for the early trip tomorrow.

James went to the front window. Across the road, lights shone at the Lambright house, and a little farther up the lane at Abby’s little place, too. Otherwise, the twilight had wrapped around Cedar Creek like a thick blanket of deep blue, embedded with stars above serene, snow-covered pastures that rolled beyond the mercantile, Treva’s greenhouse, and the sheep barns. While he was grateful that Ida and Dan were hosting the big family gathering tomorrow, it saddened him that Christmas as they’d known it had slipped away like Dat’s memory and Mamm’s patience. Tomorrow, he would be driving them to Queen City in the sleigh. No doubt, it would be a sedate, careful ride, totally different from the wild sleigh rides he and the neighbor kids had enjoyed on several Christmas afternoons of their youth.

As Emma’s footsteps clattered on the wooden stairs, James remained focused on the rolling hillsides, chuckling over the memory of one particularly eventful outing the Christmas he had built a
sleigh in Pete Beachey’s shop and given it to the family as a holiday present.

“Well, now,” his sister said as she came to stand beside him, “you’re wearing a different expression altogether from when Dat had you playing the part of Joseph.”

James nodded. “Jah, I was remembering that Christmas afternoon when you and Iva and Sharon were in the backseat of the sleigh, and we’d stopped by to pick up Abby—”

“Because the Lambrights have the biggest, best pastures for sleigh riding, so we almost always went over there,” Emma said, joining in eagerly.

“—and we’d ridden just beyond Cedar Creek, when up over the hill popped the Ropp brothers in their sleigh.”

“Jonny couldn’t have been more than eight or nine,” Emma recalled in a faraway voice, “but he wasn’t about to let Gideon drive.”

“Jah, and he was egging me on to race,” James continued as the scene played out in his mind. “I was old enough to know better, while you and the older girls were hollering to stop that nonsense, on account of how we’d get in trouble if anything happened to the new sleigh.”

“And Iva was just the one to tattle on us, too.”

James laughed and slipped his arm around Emma’s shoulders. “And Abby was sitting up front with me, saying ‘James, can your mare go any faster in this snow? We’ve got to show those Ropp boys a thing or two!’”

For a moment they were silent, reliving the sleigh race that had crossed the unfenced back acres of the Lambrights’ farm. James remembered the shine in Abby’s eyes and the way her cheeks glowed in the cold air as her laughter rang out. He had urged Peggy to gallop faster, aware that he was playing a dangerous game yet loving the look on Abby’s face…

Had Abby been sweet on him then, as Jonny had hinted the other day? Or had she mostly been excited by their race against the
daredevils of Cedar Creek? James smiled at how she’d radiated such joy as the sleigh raced across the snowy knolls, and he couldn’t help wondering if things would be different this Christmas if back then he had really noticed Abigail Lambright.

“Jah, you showed them some snow when they turned over their sleigh on that big hill,” Emma quipped. Then she shook her head. “We were lucky nobody got hurt.”

“Lucky the horses weren’t any worse for the wear, too. But none of us were thinking about safety at that age,” he replied. “We helped Jonny and Gideon turn their sleigh right-side up while they brushed the snow from their clothes, and everybody went back home like it was no big deal.”

Emma rested her head on his shoulder. “Nothing seems that simple anymore, ain’t so?” she asked wistfully. “As I recollect, Zanna had measles that Christmas.”

“And I was just as glad she did, because back then I considered her as pesky, in her little-girl way, as Jonny Ropp was.” He laughed ruefully. “Who could have known that she and I would get engaged? And that it would be me who got dumped this time around, instead of Jonny?”

His sister raised her head to look at him. “Maybe it’s a gut thing we can’t see into the future,” she murmured wearily. “I’m headed for bed, James. Don’t spend the night stewing over Zanna and Jonny and wondering how it’ll all turn out this time, okay? Night, now.”

“Night, now.” He watched his sister start up the staircase, but it was Abby on his mind. Calling up her gentle smile made him feel better about this evening’s devotional reading and the way his parents seemed to be aging before his eyes. And wasn’t it Abby’s way to play the part of that angel in the passage, telling folks not to be afraid because whatever happened was in God’s hands? Now, that was something to ponder… a true gift that Abby shared with every one of them.

“Merry Christmas, Abby,” James whispered. And although he
still didn’t know how everything would play out for Zanna or himself, he went to bed a happier man.

“‘And they came with haste, and found Mary and Joseph and the babe lying in a manger,’” Matt read with enthusiasm. “‘When they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child. And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds. But Mary kept all these things and pondered them in her heart.’”

Abby sighed with the wonder of this passage. “Every Christmas we hear these words, yet this year they seem extra-special.” She slipped her arm around Zanna, who sat beside her at the big table in Sam and Barbara’s kitchen. “Think how Mary must have felt, carrying a baby all those months, having to explain that she wasn’t married to Joseph, and that it was God’s own child.”

“And Joseph, too—having to take an angel’s word for it that he was supposed to go ahead and marry her,” Mamm said as Matt put away the big family Bible. “Not a lot of men would have had faith enough to go along with that, or to raise God’s own son. It just goes to show you what wonderful-gut things can come from situations that don’t fit the rules, if you believe the Lord’s behind them.”

“I’ll agree with that, as long as you don’t write Jonny Ropp into the part of God.” Sam, at the head of the table, smiled wryly as he focused on Zanna. “And you, little sister, have taken on your responsibilities a lot better than I figured you would. You made the right decision, keeping this baby. I’m glad you convinced us to go along with it.”

Grinning, Abby raised her eyebrows. Their brother was truly feeling the spirit of Christmas, to admit such a thing. How well she recalled Sam’s anger and accusations when Zanna had revealed her pregnancy back in October. And what a blessing, that her sister was blooming like a pink poinsettia now that morning sickness was behind her. Barbara’s regular checkups indicated that mother and child were blessedly healthy.

As they bowed for a silent prayer before their Christmas dinner, Abby smiled with her eyes closed. After she said thanks for their special food, she added,
We thank You, too, Lord, for the way the bishop and our friends have come together in Your love and forgiveness. It’s another Christmas miracle that except for a little redding up, the Ropps’ new house is finished.

“Merry Christmas! And God bless us, every one!” Sam declared. “Let’s do all this gut food justice.”

He took a slice of pineapple-glazed ham and started the platter around while everyone else reached for the steaming bowls in front of them. Mamm and Barbara had cooked everyone’s holiday favorites: candied yams with marshmallows for Matt, corn casserole studded with chunks of red and green bell pepper for Gail, and festive red applesauce cooked with red-hot candies for Ruthie.

Abby grinned as she picked up the platter of roasted duck with apple-pecan stuffing. “You outdid yourself, Mamm. This is the only Christmas present I need, right here.”

“Gut,” Matt teased around a mouthful of food. “Because we didn’t get you anything else.”

The meal was one of the merriest Abby could remember. They recalled walking their hillsides with Dat to find just the right Christmas trees, and sleigh races with the Graber kids on Christmas afternoons. Even back then, Abby had been so certain James was the man for her.

Reality had worked out differently than her dreams, yet Abby felt fulfilled and content. Had she been married with children, she couldn’t have devoted so much time to their recent sewing frolics. Nor could she have provided the fabric, because her Stitch in Time business wouldn’t exist. And as she smiled at Zanna, Abby sensed she was able to be a more supportive sister because she was single, too. Zanna had certainly needed that.

Over warm gingerbread drizzled with Barbara’s special lemon sauce, Abby saw that even though they’d stuffed themselves silly, a lot
of their dinner was left. They had decided days ago to share it with the Ropps. “Hospital food can’t measure up to this feast,” she said. “And Adah’s got to be feeling low because with Rudy still there, their family can’t share Christmas dinner at home. She and the girls are probably awful tired of staying in that hospital guest room.”

Barbara nodded, her eyes sparkling. “We’ve got plenty to share, so we might as well start wrapping them up a care package.”

Abby turned to Zanna, excited by a new idea. “Why not call Jonny? Ask if he wants to go with us when we deliver it? Maybe he’ll even drive us,” she added mischievously. What with all the work he and Gideon had done around their homeplace, it seemed only fair to feed those brothers Christmas dinner after Bessie and Mervin Mast had let them bunk with them these past few weeks. And Zanna would have another opportunity to be with Jonny—and his family, of course.

Zanna’s eyes clouded over. “I’m not sure what he’s been doing with himself lately,” she murmured as she rose to scrape their plates. “Must be too busy at the house.”

“The crew’s not working today,” Sam pointed out. “If you tell him you’ve got dinner for him and Gideon as part of the bargain, surely he’ll consider that.”

“Oh, all right.” Zanna’s sigh sounded forlorn. She dropped the silverware onto the pile of food-smeared plates and hurried over to put on her coat. “But don’t say I didn’t tell you so, if he’s nowhere to be found.”

The slam of the kitchen door behind her made them all exchange a look. “I wondered why Zanna seemed kind of quiet this morning,” Barbara remarked as she took up the task of scraping plates.

“Jonny was sure looking like a fella head over heels in love that day we took lunch to the new house,” Phoebe remarked with a puzzled frown. She ran hot water in the sink.

“She hasn’t heard from him since then, though.” Gail began putting food into plastic containers to take to the hospital. “Maybe the
truth about the baby is sinking in and Jonny’s back to his old ways. Or maybe he already went to see his dat, like the bishop suggested, and he never came back.”

“Well, going for that visit is a gut idea, no matter how Zanna feels about it,” Sam said. He went into the front room, and soon returned with a foxlike grin. The box he handed Abby was crammed with red and green envelopes— four or five dozen of them. “Some of these cards came to me at the store,” he said, “and Vernon brought over the ones the postman’s been holding, knowing the Ropps aren’t home. After I opened a few, with letters asking me to pass the enclosed card along to Rudy and Adah, I stuck them away. Seems Plain folks from all over have been sending them money, Abby, on account of that report you wrote for the
Budget.
”

Abby stared at the boxful of letters, dumbfounded. “But I didn’t ask for donations or a card shower or—”

“Which makes folks more willing to send them,” their mother pointed out. Her face lit up like the star of Bethlehem as she riffled through the stack of cards. “Some of these have come from New York and Georgia… Here’s a couple from Jamesport, and some from Minnesota and Tennessee, as well. I have no idea how much money the Ropps lost in the fire, but this will certainly go a ways toward replacing it.”

Abby felt downright giddy. Who would have believed this outpouring of generosity was possible? “I’m glad the bishop said we should tell the Ropps about the new house today. And about the buggies and wagons James made.”

“Christmas is the perfect day for that,” Barbara agreed as she tucked a big piece of ham into a covered casserole dish. “Adah’s been worrying about where they’ll go when Rudy’s released from the hospital. They don’t want to be a burden on anyone.”

“Well, if this isn’t a Christmas miracle, I don’t know what is.” Abby couldn’t stop beaming in anticipation of the surprise—the joy—on Adah Ropp’s face when she saw these cards.

“And it’s
you
who should tell them about all this, Abby,” Mamm added with a decisive nod. “Not only was it your piece in the paper that brought in the money, it was your doing that we made Adah a whole houseful of new curtains, plus four quilts. And you convinced Zanna to donate those pretty rugs, and you got folks to give food and clothes right off, too.”