An Amish Family Christmas: Heart of Christmas / A Plain Holiday. Patricia Davids
had been a fad for a time among Amish teens to have a professional photo made of their group during rumspringa, before any of them joined the church. The practice was frowned on by the older folks but generally accepted as part of growing up.
“Ach, the boys did far worse than that during their rumspringa,” Becky said. “They were no doubt glad that was all the mischief we got up to.” She rose from the table and moved to the oak cabinet against the wall, opening a drawer. “And here it is. We were a pretty good-looking bunch, ain’t so?” She passed the picture around the table.
“I don’t think we’ve changed all that much,” Susannah said, accepting the picture. She glanced down at the smiling faces.
The photographer had taken the picture of the group in a park, arranging the eight of them in various positions on and around a weathered picnic table. She’d thought it odd at the time, and it was only later that she realized what an artist he had been.
The eight of them looked so much more natural than they would have lined up in a row. She studied their youthful faces. They’d all been eighteen then.
Her gaze was arrested by her own face gravely smiling back at her, and her heart gave an odd thud. She’d said they hadn’t changed much, but the face of the younger Susannah had had a sweetness and an innocence that she wouldn’t find if she looked in the mirror now. She’d been a girl then, looking forward to marriage, secure in Toby’s love. She handed the photo on to the next person, happy not to spend any more time staring at her younger self.
Rachel pushed her empty pie plate away, sighing. “The kinder seem happy to have two new students in the school. Although from what I hear from Simon, young William is a bit of a handful.”
“Just like his daadi was.” Sally Ann grinned. “Remember when he put a whoopie pie on the teacher’s chair and she sat on it?”
The resulting laughter had a slightly nervous edge, as if her friends weren’t sure how she’d react to mentions of her old love.
Well, she had to let them see that it didn’t bother her in the least. “Luckily for me, William hasn’t thought of that trick. I just hope nobody mentions it to him.”
“We won’t tell,” Becky said. “More snitz pie, anyone?” She held the knife poised over yet another dried-apple pie, but she didn’t get any takers.
“So I hear Toby is spending a lot of time at the schoolhouse.” Sally Ann’s blue eyes twinkled, but there was an edge to her voice. Clearly there had been talk.
Well, maybe she could use the Amish grapevine to her advantage. “Toby’s kinder are finding it difficult to adjust to losing their mother and then moving to a new place. I thought it would help them feel more comfortable if their daad was around for a week or so, and helping with the Christmas program seemed a perfect way of doing so.”
There was a general murmur of approval. Good. The reason for Toby’s presence would be passed along, and hopefully, other people would be equally understanding.
“And it gives the two of you time together, too, ain’t so?” Sally Ann was irrepressible. “Take advantage of it, and you might have Toby falling for you all over again.”
Susannah’s smile froze. Several women started up their chatter again, obviously thinking Sally Ann had gone too far this time.
It wasn’t malicious, Susannah knew, glancing at Sally Ann’s ruddy, cheerful face. But it hurt, anyway, and the way her stomach was twisting made her think she shouldn’t have had that last piece of dried-apple pie.
Which was worse—to have people thinking, like Keim, that she was acting improperly? Or to have them assume she was trying to snare Toby into marriage again?
After a week of having Toby working at the schoolhouse every afternoon, Susannah had begun to feel that all her fretting had been foolish. Whatever the girls from her rumspringa gang thought, she hadn’t noticed that people were gossiping about her and Toby.
The previous day, during Sunday worship and the simple lunch served afterward, she’d been on alert for any hint of interest. But she hadn’t intercepted any knowing glances or been asked any awkward questions. Surely, if folks were gossiping, she’d have sensed something.
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