Amish Triplets For Christmas. Carrie Lighte
half an hour early to school, she settled behind her desk and peeled the shell from a hard-boiled egg.
Still trying to come up with inexpensive meals she could make for the children, she realized as long as the chickens were laying, eggs were plentiful, a good source of protein and cost nothing. Likewise, the garden was still going strong with tomatoes and corn, but she brooded about their limited dairy supply, knowing how important milk was for growing children.
When she finished her egg, she smeared a dab of preserves over a crust of bread. She was wiping the corner of her mouth with a napkin when the heavy door inched open.
“Guder mariye, Teacher,” the triplets said in unison. With their pink cheeks and blond hair backlit by the sun streaming in behind them, they looked positively adorable, and Hannah couldn’t help but smile at their appearance.
“Guder mariye,” she replied. “Is it just the three of you today, or have you brought your friend, the toad, inside?”
She was referring to the toad they’d caught the previous morning, but as soon as she finished her sentence, Sawyer crossed the threshold.
“Guder mariye,” he stated apprehensively. “Might I have a word with you outside?”
She followed him to the landing and squinted up at him. Against the sunshine, he appeared aglow, with the light rimming his strapping shoulders in golden hues and bouncing off his blond curls. But when she noticed his austere expression, she worried he might have thought she was referencing him when she’d asked the children about the toad.
“Is something wrong?” she questioned.
“Neh...” Sawyer objected slowly. “But there’s something I’d like to bring to your attention.”
Hannah thought whatever it was he wanted to discuss, it must have been a grave matter—he could hardly look at her.
“How may I be of assistance?” she asked, hoping to put him at ease.
“You are already of assistance. Perhaps too much so,” he began hesitantly. He glanced away and back at her. “It is my understanding that you gave sweet bread and preserves to Simon the other afternoon?”
Oh, then, it wasn’t a serious matter at all. He simply wanted to thank her; how kind.
“It was a trifling. I’m happy to share with any child who may be hungry.”
“But it wasn’t a trifling,” Sawyer countered. “It ruined Simon’s appetite for more substantial food. I recognize many Amish families consider pastries and other treats to be part of their daily bread—especially in Willow Creek. But, as you probably noticed, my kinner are a bit thin and it is important for their physical health that they receive adequate sustenance. I trust the meals you will prepare as part of the kinner’s daily care will be nutritious and substantial, with limited sweets?”
Hannah felt as if the air had been squeezed from her lungs. Here she had sacrificed her entire noonday meal and Sawyer was acting as if she’d tried to poison the boy. She felt at once both foolish and angry, and her face blazed as she struggled to keep her composure.
“Of course,” she agreed. “Kinner—all kinner, whether they are from Pennsylvania or Ohio—do need sustenance, which is why I often bring extra eggs or a slice of meat to school. Two days ago, I had only brought bread enough for me. Your Simon upended the lunch sack into the dirt, so I gave bread and jam to him as well as to Sarah and Samuel. But Simon later complained of a headache and I thought it was because he was still hungry, so I permitted him another piece. But I apologize for ruining his appetite for adequate sustenance. I assure you it won’t happen again, and I most definitely will prepare healthy recipes while they are under my care.”
She stomped up the stairs and into the classroom, leaving Sawyer alone on the stoop.
* * *
Sawyer was so abashed, he didn’t know whether to follow Hannah and apologize or flee as quickly as he could. As he was hesitating, an approaching buggy caught his eye and he decided to leave.
He tried to shrug off his interaction with her as being an unfortunate misunderstanding, but despite his efforts, throughout the morning he couldn’t shake her expression from his mind. She looked as if she’d been stung. And no wonder—he’d been such an oaf, criticizing her when she was only looking after Simon’s welfare.
“Are you watching the clouds or napping with your eyes open?” Jonas ribbed him when he drifted into thought.
He wiped his hands on his trousers without saying a word and continued to work. He decided there was only one thing he could do—apologize to Hannah. He needed to be as forthright now as he’d tried to be this morning. He completed his tasks with a new vigor, motivated by his resolve to set things right.
But when he arrived at the schoolhouse, Samuel, Sarah and Simon were playing tag with a girl Sawyer recognized from the first day of school.
“Where is your teacher?” he called to them.
“She’s inside, speaking to my wife, Miriam,” a voice from behind him answered. The dark-haired man was short and stout. “I’m Jacob Stolzfus and that girl your son is chasing around the willow is my daughter, Abigail. You must be Sawyer Plank, John’s nephew.”
“I am,” Sawyer responded. “Those are my kinner, Sarah, Simon and Samuel, the one who just tagged your daughter.”
“Abigail has told us about your Sarah,” Jacob commented. “She already is very fond of her.”
“Sarah is pleased to have a girl her age for a friend, as well,” Sawyer acknowledged. “Usually her brothers are her primary playmates. She’s happy not to be outnumbered.”
As they spoke, the door to the schoolhouse swung open and Miriam and Hannah emerged. Miriam was stroking her swollen belly and chatting animatedly. A breeze played with the strings of Hannah’s prayer kapp, and Sawyer was distracted by the sight of her lifting a slender hand to cover her bright pink lips, as if to contain a mirthful gasp.
“How about you?” Jacob was saying.
“Pardon?”
“How do you find Willow Creek so far?”
“It’s to my liking,” he answered absentmindedly, still watching as Miriam and Hannah descended the staircase. “It is unique, to say the least.”
“You might consider staying beyond the harvest, since you wouldn’t be leaving behind a farm of your own in Ohio,” suggested Jacob. “Our district is shrinking. Any relative of John Plank’s would be wilkom to take up residence here permanently. We could use a young family like yours in our district.”
At the bottom step, Hannah glanced up and Sawyer caught her eye. He noticed a slight dimming of her countenance before she continued to amble with Miriam toward their buggy.
“Neh,” Sawyer replied definitively. “I am only here for a short while to help my onkel, as you apparently have heard. Everything I have is in Ohio—my business, my home, my family. People there depend on me and I on them. It’s true I don’t own a farm, but the Lord gave me responsibilities there I wouldn’t soon abandon.”
He sharply called to the triplets, who sprinted across the lawn and piled into the buggy. The children waved to Abigail, her family and Hannah as they rode away, but Sawyer kept his eyes locked on the road ahead of him.
That night when supper was served and they each asked for second helpings—Simon even requested a third—he decided no matter Hannah’s reason for feeding his children, he had been right to prohibit her from giving them sweets before supper as a general rule. An apology to her wasn’t necessary after all.
* * *
Hannah wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. She hoped the hot spell would break, but it still seemed more like the dog days of summer than nearly autumn. She was grateful Jacob and Miriam had given her a ride home from school on their way back from town,