Amish Christmas Twins. Shelley Shepard Gray
slid the paper over to him. “Well, children, look at that! We already have one of our pages done.”
“Only twenty-five more letters to go,” Jemima said.
E.A. giggled again. “You remind me of my friend Harley, Jemima. Harley is nothing if not a realist.”
“Is that bad?”
“Oh, no. A realist is simply someone who dwells on things they can see and prove. They aren’t always real comfortable when it comes to considering fanciful things.”
“Does that mean ‘made up’?”
“Jah. Or things that might seem like just a wish.”
“Oh.”
E.A. stood up and walked to the stove. While Roy started drawing camels that really only looked like lumpy dogs, Jemima reached for the “W” page.
“Do you have a special wish, Mrs. Kurtz?”
“I have lots of wishes, but for Christmas, my wish is that I am able to finish sewing all my projects on time. And for snow.”
“I like snow, too,” Roy said as he picked up a red crayon.
“Do you have a special Christmas wish, Jemima?” E.A. asked as she poured chocolate powder into the milk she’d been heating on the stove. “Is there something special that you would love to receive on Christmas morning?”
“Nee,” Jemima said.
“Really? Not even a new dress or maybe a stuffed animal or a doll?”
“My mamm gave me a dalli before she died,” Jemima said before she realized what she’d shared. She slapped a hand over her lips. “I’m sorry. I meant, nee, Mrs. Kurtz. I don’t have any wishes for Christmas.”
E.A. was quiet as she pulled out a container from one of the cabinets, then brought over three mugs of hot chocolate. It was the fanciest hot chocolate Jemima had ever seen. In the center of each mug was a giant marshmallow and on top of the marshmallow was a sprinkling of red and green candy sprinkles.
“Wow!” Roy said.
“I’ve never seen marshmallows like this,” Jemima added.
“That’s because I make them.” E.A. chuckled softly. “I’m afraid I’m not the cook that my friend Kendra is. She can make beautiful marshmallows. Mine taste okay, but they’re on the lumpy side, I’m afraid.”
“They’re real gut,” Roy said when he put his mug down. He smiled, showing off a marshmallow mustache.
After handing Roy a napkin, E.A. shuffled through the papers and pulled out the “M.” “How about this?” she asked as she picked up the marker. “‘“M” is for marshmallow mustaches’?”
This time Jemima couldn’t resist giggling, too. “Jah, Mrs. Kurtz. That’s a good one.”
As she wrote, E.A. gestured toward the “W” page in front of her. “What have you decided for ‘W’?”
“ ‘ “W” is for Wish and for White Christmas’?” She held her breath.
“I think that is a mighty good sentence, dear.” She handed over the pen. “I’ll write it down on a scratch piece of paper; then you can write the official sentence. Okay?”
“Okay,” Jemima said. She would never tell Mrs. Kurtz that her secret sentence was “W” is for wonderful parents who make wishes. That one she was going to keep for herself. As another one of her not-wishes.
Chapter 4
Eight days before Christmas
“I’m not so sure about this,” Roy whispered to Will as they climbed out of John Byler’s truck. Will, John, and their friend Harley were taking Roy and Jemima turkey hunting.
Bending down to pick up his shotgun and backpack, Will fought back a smile. He didn’t want the little guy to think he was making light of his concern, but boy, it was hard to keep his happiness in check. This was the first time Roy had spoken to him without coaxing.
After checking to make sure that Jemima was being occupied by Harley—he was helping her adjust her backpack—Will rested his shotgun on a knee. “What makes you nervous? The woods, the hunting, or being with me, Harley and John, and your sister?”
Roy pondered that for a few seconds before replying. “All of it.”
“I understand. It’s new with new friends, jah?”
Roy simply stared at him.
And all the unspoken words slammed into his heart. Roy didn’t consider any of the men—not even Will—a friend.
“All I can offer is my opinion, Roy. And that is that it’s a good thing to try something new from time to time. You won’t know if you like a stranger if you don’t meet them. You also won’t know if you like something if you never try it at least once.”
John walked to their side. “Roy, I know you and Jemima have already had your fair share of new things this year, but I promise that there isn’t a one of us who would knowingly put you in danger or make you sad. Try to trust us, if you can.”
“But you aren’t Amish.”
“Nee, I am not. But I used to be. And more important than that, I have known Will and Harley, here, since we were younger than you, Roy.”
Roy looked up at Will. “Really?”
“Really. Mei mamm used to watch John and Harley in the summers from time to time. E.A., too.”
This time it was Jemima who looked surprised. “I didn’t know that.”
“Eight of us were fast friends.”
“Eight of you?”
“That’s right. We took our friendship seriously, too. In fact, all of us but one are still here in Walnut Creek.”
“What happened to the other one?”
“He died.”
“You’ve known someone who died, too?”
“Jah. You aren’t alone, Roy.”
Roy took a deep breath. “All right.”
“All right then.” Will grinned. “Let’s go find ourselves a turkey for Christmas.”
“I’m not sure how to find turkeys,” Jemima said. “What should we do?”
Harley answered that one. “You’re gonna have to stay quiet, walk carefully, and try to think like a turkey.”
Her lips curved up. “We’re people. We can’t think like fayl.”
“Sure we can. All you have to do is look around and think about where you would want to perch.”
Jemima giggled before slapping her hand over her lips. “Sorry.”
“That’s all right, girl. You sounded a bit like a giggling turkey. Maybe they’ll think you’re a friend.”
Jemima giggled harder, followed by Roy, before he, too, slapped a hand over his mouth.
And so it continued.
Will, John, and Harley carried shotguns in their hands and backpacks filled with snacks on their backs. They pretended to look hard for turkeys, but in actuality, Will knew their chances of actually finding any birds were slim. What was important was that they had gotten Jemima and Roy out of the house for a little adventure. Three days before, he’d spoken to John at work about the children. When John had suggested a Christmas turkey-hunting trip, he’d been doubtful, but now he was realizing that it was good medicine for all of them.
They were all dressed in boots, layers of clothing, hats, and mittens.