An Amish Christmas Journey. Patricia Davids
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“I suppose we must do it.” Greta Barkman almost choked on her words.
It was the right thing to say. The only decision her Amish faith would let her make, but she’d rather walk through the snow barefoot...all winter...than spend one hour with her uncle Morris. Bringing him home to stay with them for a few months would be unbearable. Surely God would not ask this of her and her sisters after all they had endured.
Betsy, the youngest at eighteen, slapped the letter facedown on the table. “It’s not as if Onkel Morris can expect us to drop everything and rush to his side. We escaped his cruelness by the grace of God. Besides, it’s almost Christmas. It will be our first happy Christmas together. I don’t want him to spoil it.”
He will spoil it. I know that as surely as I know it’s cold outside.
Greta glanced at the kitchen window. The late-afternoon sun shone brightly beyond the frost-covered glass, but it added little warmth to the December day. The dusting of snow that had arrived in the night blew around, sparkling like glitter in the breeze. She shivered and looked back at the people seated around her grandfather’s table. Her three sisters, her grandfather and his new wife, and two of her sisters’ husbands were gathered for this family meeting.
Clara, the oldest sister, picked up the letter. “I agree with Greta. We have to do this. His bishop would not write asking us to take Morris in if our uncle’s condition were not serious.” She glanced at her husband seated beside her. “I will go, if you agree, Ethan.”
He covered her hand with his own. “I won’t pretend that I like the idea, but you must do what you think best. The children and I will manage without you for a few days.”
“I can go.” Lizzie, the second sister, looked as though she would rather eat dirt.
Carl, Lizzie’s husband, laid his hand on her arm. “I won’t agree to it. You have to think of the babe. Such a long car ride will not be good for you.”
Naomi, their grandfather’s wife, reached over to clasp Lizzie’s hand. “You know the midwife cautioned against traveling with the problems you’ve had.”
Lizzie nodded in resignation, but Greta detected a hint of relief in her eyes. Who could blame her?
Greta retrieved the letter and scanned it again. Their uncle lived near Fort Wayne, Indiana. She explained the contents for those that hadn’t read it. “His bishop writes that the congregation is willing to arrange for a van and driver to take Morris from the hospital to our home. His doctors wouldn’t allow him to travel by bus. A car or van is acceptable as long as the driver makes frequent stops. Morris must take brief walks every hour or two to prevent circulation problems with his legs.”
And he must have someone travel with him. The five-hour car trip from Fort Wayne to Hope Springs would need to be broken into at least two days of travel. It would make a very long trip, breaks or no breaks.
Although the bishop hinted at some dissention among his flock over the matter, the fact that none of them were willing to take Morris in spoke of a serious rift in the church group. The Amish took care of their own within the community. Families were expected to look after aging or ailing members and normally did so gladly. His nieces were all the family Morris Barkman had left.
Lizzie crossed her arms over her chest. “I can’t believe old man Rufus turned Morris out of the house and hired a new fellow to work the dairy farm. I thought our onkel and his landlord were friends.”
“I can believe it,” Clara said with a shiver. “Rufus Kuhns is an evil man. He’s worse than our uncle.”
Greta nodded in agreement. Rufus had tried to coerce Clara into marrying him by threatening all of them with eviction and physical violence. “Morris is out of a job and has nowhere to live. He is dependent on us, the very women he mistreated for years. It must be a bitter pill for him.”
It was for her. For all of them.
Naomi sighed heavily. “Greta, you are the only logical choice to go and fetch him here.”
She looked up startled. “Me? Why me?”
Naomi’s gaze softened with sympathy. “Lizzie can’t go. Betsy has a job and shouldn’t miss work, besides she is too young to travel so far alone. Clara is a newlywed. She has a new husband and three stepchildren to think about. It would be cruel to part her from the children so soon. I’m not related to Morris. He might find it uncomfortable traveling with me.”
“I don’t care if he is comfortable or not!” Greta couldn’t do it. She couldn’t spend two days shut in a car with him.
“I don’t know how I would manage without you for even a day, Naomi.” Joseph reached to take his new wife’s hand.
Greta saw the warm look he exchanged with Naomi. It seemed everyone in her family had found someone to love. Everyone but her. Betsy was being courted by a local Amish fellow that everyone liked. Lizzie had married Carl last fall, and they were expecting their first child. Clara had wed Ethan Gingerich only a few weeks ago.
Greta had refused the few men who had asked her out. Marriage wasn’t in her future, certainly not marriage to an Amish man. She wanted to become a counselor and help abused women. To do that would require more education than the eight years the Amish allowed. Leaving the community she loved was a difficult decision—one she wasn’t sure she was ready to make. She had only discussed it with Clara. No one else knew what she was thinking of doing.
Greta didn’t begrudge any of her sisters their happiness. They deserved it and more. How many times had her actions and her words brought their uncle’s wrath down on them? Far more that she cared to count. If only she had been stronger. If only she had stood up to him. If only she had told someone about the abuse, but she hadn’t. They had all lived inside a circle of fear and shame until Lizzie found the courage to break out. It was because of Lizzie that they found a refuge of love and caring in their grandfather’s home. God had rewarded Lizzie’s selfless bravery.
Greta didn’t possess such courage. The thought of spending time with Morris made her cringe. She couldn’t do it. Panic hit her full in the face. She crumpled the letter and jumped to her feet. “Someone else will have to go.”
She ran out of the room and up the stairs with her heart hammering wildly in her chest. She was staring out her bedroom window struggling to regain her composure when Naomi came in. Without turning around, Greta said, “I can’t do it.”
Naomi slipped an arm across Greta’s shoulders. “Betsy has said she will go.”
Greta flinched. Her little sister was no match for Morris. “Betsy is too young. He’s too mean. You don’t know how he is. He can make her feel worthless with nothing but words. He doesn’t even need his stick to beat her down.”
“I’m not saying it will be easy for her, but she’s willing to do it to spare you.”
Greta bit the corner of her lip. “I’m afraid, Naomi.”
“Of what, child?”
“That I’ll turn back into the groveling, miserable person I was when I lived with him. He called me Mouse because I was always scurrying out of his path. I existed—I didn’t live. I was dead inside.”
She still was. In spite of all she had read about surviving abuse, she knew Morris still had a hold over her. “I don’t have Lizzie’s courage.”
Naomi enfolded her in a fierce hug. “Courage is fear that has said its prayers. God will give you all you