Patricia Davids - An Amish Family Christmas - Heart of Christmas / A Plain Holiday

Susannah forced her attention back to her younger scholars, who were rehearsing their part in the program. Apart from an inability to hold up their battery-powered candles and recite their lines at the same time, they were improving. As was Mary Keim, who was directing them. To Susannah’s surprise, Mary had come through, once she was trusted with the responsibility for a task.

The kinder came to the end of their recitation, and Mary glanced anxiously at Susannah.

“ Gut work, all of you.” There were grins and waving of candles at her words. “Now put your candles in the box on the desk. It’s almost time to go home.”

As the young ones hurried to obey, Susannah touched Mary’s shoulder. “You are doing very well with the young ones. I’m pleased with your work.”

Mary’s thin face flushed with pleasure. “ Denke, Teacher Susannah.” She hesitated for a moment. “I...I just try to do what I think you would.”

The words touched her. “That’s how we learn, ain’t so? Keep this up and you can be a gut teacher, if that’s what you want.”

The girl looked away. “I’m not sure,” she muttered. Before Susannah could respond, Mary scurried away to help the younger ones with boots and jackets.

Now, what was that about? Perhaps Mary didn’t share her father’s intent for her, although despite her earlier doubts, Susannah felt that the girl had begun to show an aptitude for teaching.

When Mary opened the schoolhouse door, Susannah saw a light snow was falling. She had to smile at the children’s reactions. They walked sedately at first, double file, across the narrow porch and down the steps as they’d been taught. When they reached the ground, they erupted like young foals, prancing and running delightedly through the white flakes.

Mary pulled on her own jacket, looking as eager as the kinder. “I’ll go out and watch until they’re picked up.”

“ Denke, Mary.” Susannah closed the door after the girl, shutting out the chill December air, and then had to open it again as Anna came scurrying from the cloakroom with the twins, always the last to get their coats on.

“We’re going to make a snowman,” Anna announced. “Will you come and look at it when we’re done, Teacher Susannah?”

“I surely will,” she said, doubting that they’d have time to finish before Becky came to collect her daughters.

She closed the door again and realized that Toby was watching her, a tentative smile on his lips.

“Anna is doing better, ain’t so?” He seemed to want reassurance, as any worried father would.

“Much better.” Susannah touched the last of the tall candles he’d been constructing with the older boys. A coat of paint and they’d be ready. “She put her hand in the air this morning when I asked for volunteers to read aloud. That’s real progress from the first few days, when I couldn’t get her to say anything.”

Toby’s expression eased. “You’ve been wonderful gut with her, Susannah. Denke. ”

“It’s my job.” Yet she couldn’t help sharing his pleasure. “As for William...”

Toby’s eyes darkened. “What has he done now?”

“Nothing so bad.” She hastened to assure him. “A few scuffles on the playground, that’s all.”

“I was afraid of that.” Toby’s shoulders hunched, and for a moment, he looked like an older version of his son. “I was hoping you’d be able to get through to him. I’m certain sure not doing it.”

The bitterness in his voice shook her. “I’m sorry, Toby. You and he seemed to be talking while you were working together. I prayed things were better.”

Toby shrugged, running his hand down the plywood candle. “Sometimes we start talking like we used to. But then it’s as if William puts a wall up between us.” His jaw tightened. “He’s my own son, and I can’t reach him.”

Susannah longed to deny it, but she’d seen it for herself. William was holding his father at arm’s length, and she didn’t have a guess as to why. Pity stirred in her heart.

“When did things change between you and William?” The question might seem prying, but if Toby wanted her help, she had to ask it, even if it touched on the subject of his wife.

Toby frowned. “It’s related to Emma’s death. It must be. He’s older, so he understood a little better what was happening.”

Her heart twisted. “ Ach, Toby, you couldn’t protect him from the pain of his mother’s dying, no matter how much you wanted to.” Any more than he could control his own grief at the loss of his wife.

An unexpected rush of resentment washed over her, and Susannah was horrified. Toby had jilted her and married another woman, and now he expected her to help him deal with the aftermath of her death. She shouldn’t let the resentment have sway—it was unkind and unchristian.

Toby swung away from her with an abrupt movement. “Sorry.” His voice roughened with emotion. “I shouldn’t be talking about Emma, not to you, of all people.”

Shame engulfed Susannah. How could she think of herself in the face of his grief and that of his children?

A prayer formed in her thoughts. Father God, forgive me. Give me a heart clean of pain and jealousy so that I can help them.

She drew in a long, steadying breath. Then she reached out to touch his arm. “Toby, don’t think that. You can talk to me. No matter what else happened between us, we have been friends from the cradle. You can tell me anything.” Her fingers tightened on his arm. “Anything . ”

For a long moment she thought he wouldn’t respond. Then his gaze met hers, and she felt as if his expression eased just a little. “ Ach, how many mistakes I’ve made in my life. Mistakes other people had to pay for.” He shook his head, as if trying to shake off the pain. “William... I’m afraid that somehow William felt I didn’t love his mammi the way I should.”

Susannah tried to absorb the impact of his words. That was the last thing she’d expected to hear. Hadn’t Emma been the love he’d been looking for when he’d left Pine Creek?

“I don’t understand.” She took a breath, knowing she needed to hear the truth. “Is William right?”

Toby’s jaw tightened. “You thought I left because of you, ain’t so?”

She could only nod, bewildered.

For a long moment, Toby was silent. Then he spoke. “I should have told you this years ago. You deserved to hear the truth from me, and instead I ran away.” He grasped the plywood candle so hard that his knuckles whitened. “I panicked, that’s the truth of it. The closer our wedding came, the more it seemed to me that I was missing out on something.” He frowned down at his hands. “I don’t even know what I expected to find. I longed to experience something more than Pine Creek—to see other places, meet other people.”

She felt the sudden urge to shake him. “Toby, you could have told me. Don’t you know I would have understood? I would have given you whatever time you needed.”

His lips twisted. “I could always be honest with you, Susannah. I know. I didn’t want to face it. I was ashamed to tell you—to see the hurt in your face.”

He sounded almost angry. At himself? At her? She wasn’t sure, and she’d always thought she could read his every mood. He’d been feeling all these emotions, and she’d never even had a hint of it at the time. Had she been too busy filling her dower chest and giggling with her girlfriends at the time?

She tried to zero in on what was important now. “We were young, maybe too young. We both made mistakes. The kinder are what’s important now.”

He nodded, seeming to look past her at something she couldn’t see. “At first all I could think after I went West was how different everything was. There were all these people, and I hadn’t known them from the day I was born. Everyone was a mystery to me. Including Emma.”