An Amish Second Christmas Miracle Read online

  Esther opened her mouth, as though she was going to complain, but then she shook her head and patted Stumpy on his side. Stumpy's tail wagged, causing the quilt that was half hanging from his body to shake.

  Stumpy barked at something in the distance. Mary looked out, shoulder to shoulder with her dog, at the horizon. The clouds were still cotton rippled with gray, and as Mary stared up at them, something flashed behind and through them.

  Was it lightning?

  But it was snowing? Lightning came with thunder and rain, not with snow. Then there was a loud and horrible crash in the air. It was thunder! In winter!

  The buggy jerked, and they were barreling forward.

  Daed pulled on the reins, shouting at the horses to stop. But it was too late. The buggy slipped on a piece of ice and began to squeal toward the side of the road.

  Esther screamed. Mary grabbed hold of her and Stumpy as the buggy tilted. They stopped, suddenly, with a heavy thud. And then Mary was falling onto Esther, with Stumpy barking and scrabbling between them.

  Jeremiah jumped up to his feet and turned to the driver seat where Mamm and Daed clung to each other, Daed’s hands caught in the now twisted and tangled reins. "What happened?" Jeremiah asked frantically.

  “The horses—" Mary's daed started to say. He stared out through the front window panel at the falling snow.

  Mary stood up and scrambled to look. The horses, they were— "they're gone!" Mary exclaimed.

  Stumpy barked.

  "Who hitched the horses to the harness?" Mamm asked, each word perfectly enunciated in anger.

  Jeremiah had gone completely white. He looked down at his gloves.

  "Who was it? John? Jeremiah?"

  Jeremiah hung his head but said nothing.

  John elbowed his side. After a long, awkward pause, Jeremiah said, "I'm sorry."

  "Sorry!" Mamm shouted.

  “It’s going to be okay." Daed patted his wife on the arm. "The horses won’t get too far in this snow. Eventually, they'll get tired and slow down. Then we just need to find them. We'll get them back."

  Mamm was quiet for a moment. She shut her eyes and then let out a long sigh. “Ja. We have to trust in Gott."

  "How did the horses get free?" John asked.

  "I tied the harness on right,” Jeremiah explained frantically. “I did!"

  "You did it just like I showed you?” John asked. “No...shortcuts?"

  “No... I mean... It wasn’t a shortcut." Jeremiah’s cheeks were red. He looked down at his hands, which he was rubbing together through his mittens.

  "We will discuss this later.” Daed said ominously. “But first, you need to come with me. We have to see if we can find the horses."

  "How are you going to find them in all of this snow?" Mamm asked. “You shouldn’t go.”

  "Well, it's either that or just stay here for goodness knows how long. The horses shouldn’t have run far."

  "And if you and Jeremiah get lost and can't find your way back? Then what?"

  As if to punctuate Mamm’s point, another crash of thunder sounded. Stumpy barked furiously. Mary brought her legs up and hugged the quilt to her body. The horses were lost and scared, the buggy was broken, and everybody was angry at each other.

  "The snow will cover up their tracks if we don’t get going soon. Stay here, and Jeremiah and I will be back in two shakes of a horse’s tail.” Daed laughed, but it sounded hollow.

  Mamm took his hands. Her round face was solemn as she said, "Those dratted horses aren't as important as my husband and my son. And what are we supposed to do if we can't get the horses back? It's at least 20 minutes by buggy to get home or to get to your sister’s. On foot it will be even harder."

  “You’re scaring the children. I doubt the horses went very far. They'll probably calm down and then find something to stand behind to shelter them from the wind. We are in Gott’s hands,” Daed said. “Have faith in Him, and us.”

  “It’s not faith I lack,” Mamm said. She shook her head, shaking the black strings of her winter bonnet, which had come untied from her neck. “Go out and see if you can find them, if you must, but only as long as you can see the tracks. Just make sure you can find your way back"

  Daed nodded, and pressed his lips to his wife’s forehead. It was a sign of how serious the situation was that he made such a gesture in front of the rest of them. Mary felt a sudden sense of pride in her parents and their love for each other. Daed’s expression was serious as he said, "You have my word. We will see if we can track the horses and bring them back, but if it is too far, we will come back."

  Both shut their eyes for a moment in a silent prayer, and then Daed swung his leg over the back of the driver’s bench, and hopped into the center of the buggy. “Jeremiah, come with me.”

  “Jeremiah’s the one that lost the horses,” John said. “I should go.”

  “Jeremiah needs a lesson in responsibility,” Daed responded. “John, I need your level head here with your sisters and Mamm. Do you understand?”

  John nodded. Jeremiah hung his head in shame.

  “Son,” Daed said. “Jeremiah.”

  Jeremiah looked up.

  “First Corinthians, fourteen. ‘Let all things be done decently and in order.’ I want you to reflect on this as we walk.”

  Jeremiah pulled his hat down over his ears. “Ja, Daed.”

  “Gutt. And you and I will go through the proper way of harnessing the horses before we try this again. Now let us go out and find the horses.”

  “You can take Stumpy,” Mary suggested, petting her dog and best friend on the head. "You'll watch out for them, right Stumpy?"

  "Nee," her father said at the same time as Jeremiah. "He'll just get excited and run off. And then we’ll have to end up rescuing him and the horses."

  “No you won’t!"

  “Stop arguing with your daed!”

  It was of no use. Daed would trust Jeremiah to get the horses and harness them again, even though it was his fault they were all stranded in this storm. But any suggestion Mary had was immediately dismissed. Let alone any help Stumpy might offer.

  Useless. Like always.

  John opened the door to the buggy. A cold rush of wind whipped through the cabin as her brother and daed stepped out into the whipping snow.

  Through thickening snowfall,

  Daed and brother did try,

  to make their way onward,

  ‘neath an ominous sky.

  MARY WATCHED HER DAED and her brother through the front window of the buggy until they could no longer be seen. Then the family waited. The heater, in combination with all of them packed tightly together in the buggy, was enough to keep everyone warm. But as the time passed, and the figures of Mary's father and brother faded into the landscape of snowy white, Mary felt a chill. Her mamm must have felt it too, because after a long while, she turned around on the driver seat and faced them.

  "Let us pray," she said.

  Mary and her family bowed their heads in prayer. Even Stumpy was subdued. He settled across Mary’s and Esther's laps and laid his chin down on the quilt.

  Dear Gott, Mary prayed, please let Jeremiah and Daed find the horses and come back safely so that we can go to Aunt Susie's and have a perfect Second Christmas. Or even if we can't go to Aunt Susie's, please let Daed and Jeremiah and the horses be okay and come back.

  The wind had begun to pick up, and it rattled the door of the buggy. Stumpy whimpered. Mary pressed her face into his fur and closed her eyes. It was snowing harder than before, making everything a curtain of white.

  Would her daed and brother be able to find their way, even if they did find the horses? Mary shivered.

  Stumpy would be able to smell them, wouldn't he? Maybe she and Stumpy should go look?

  "Maybe me and Stumpy could go and look?" Mary suggested.

  "Ne! We stay here. I'm not losing all of my children in this storm." Mamm clasped her hands, one hand squeezing the fingers of the other and then repeating the g
esture on the opposite side.

  The family was quiet again, huddled together as the wind grew louder in a buggy in a sea of white. They had prayed, but at the same time it seemed so lonely that Mary wondered if Gott could hear them over the wind.

  Ne! Gott heard everyone. No matter if they were on top of the mountain or in the middle of the sea. When baby Jesus had been born and it seemed to Mary that she and her newborn were left to fend for themselves, the three Wise Men had come. Mary knew that she could never be as holy or as good as Mary the mother of Jesus was, but she didn't have to be that good to have Gott's help.

  So, she bowed her head again and prayed even harder. Prayed that her daed and her brother would find shelter in the storm, and that all of them would be able to get back to safety and warmth.

  For a moment, the wind seemed to go silent, and in that silence, Mary heard something that sounded like a shout. "Help!”

  Stumpy's ears perked up, and he began barking loudly at the door. It was a furious flurry of barks, loud and urgent.

  Mary jumped to her feet and the quilt fell from her lap onto the buggy’s floor. "It's Daed!"

  "Where? What did you hear?" Esther asked. She looked to the left and then to the right, and then squinted out the front window into the curtain of falling snow. "I don't see anything."

  "I don't either! Stumpy heard them though. They're out there."

  "That's just the wind," Mamm said after a long pause, where she listened into the wind’s now even louder rattle and squeal. "I can't hear anything else."

  "I did. And so did Stumpy." Dogs had better ears than people. They did! "We have to help them."

  Mary could tell by her mamm's stony expression that, while her mamm was terrified for her husband and her son, if Mary asked to open the door, Mamm would say no. She was too scared. And she didn't believe that Mary or Stumpy could be useful or know anything. So, Mary, asking Gott's forgiveness as she did something that she knew was against the rules, leaned forward and pushed the door to the buggy open.

  A huge gust of wind whipped in, stinging Mary's face with pellets of ice and snow.

  Esther screamed. John jumped up, and started yelling at Mary. "You idiot! What are you doing!"

  "Stumpy, go get Daed," Mary ordered. Stumpy thumped his tail twice on the floor of the buggy and then leapt out the open door. John, still shouting, crossed the length of the buggy, and he pulled at the door to close it.

  "Ne!" Mary shouted. If they closed the door, then she wouldn't be able to see Stumpy, Daed, Jeremiah and the horses when Stumpy brought all of them back. But all John did was push her, a bit roughly, back onto the bench. Then with a groan of effort he wrestled the door shut.

  Mary sat shivering on the bench with tears in her eyes as John turned back and berated her. "If Stumpy gets lost and freezes to death, it's your fault."

  "John! You stop that right now!" Mamm shouted. In that moment, when her mamm came to her defense, Mary’s heart felt like a ray of sunshine fell upon it. But then the words that followed made the lump in Mary's throat grow even bigger. "Mary is a little child, and she didn't know any better."

  Yes, Mary was small and sometimes that meant that she, like Stumpy, got underfoot. But she had seen the storm coming, and everyone had ignored her. Stumpy had known there was something wrong with how the horses were tied to the buggy, but when Mary asked, everyone ignored them both again. And now Stumpy was out there, all alone, looking for Daed and Jeremiah.

  It wasn't fair.

  "I'm sorry, Mary," John mumbled out. He didn't really mean it. When John was really sorry, his cheeks got a little red, and he put his hands into the pockets of his trousers. Now, his right hand was on his hip, and his left at his side. He wasn’t flushed at all, even with the cold. No, he was just saying sorry so he kept out of trouble. He rubbed his damp hand over his eyes and then blinked as the water got in to them.

  What if he was right? Mary had been so sure she’d heard the call for help, but what if John was right. What if Stumpy had just been excited by the sound of the wind, and now he was outside alone in this horrible storm. What if he died?

  Mary shivered. She wanted to hug her knees to her chest, but it was bad to put your boots on this bench. Everyone would only yell at her again. She wanted to cry. Her eyes stung.

  Esther leaned down and pulled the quilt up, handing the edge of it to Mary. "Stumpy is a tough little dog. He'll be fine. He’ll find a little hollow out of the wind, like Daed and Jeremiah and the horses, and when the storm is over, they'll all come back." Esther smiled, but her lower lip shook, and Mary realized that her older sister also was ready to start crying. Mary took her mitten off and reached up to touch Esther's round cheek. "It's going to be okay," Mary said. "Gott will hear us. It's Second Christmas."

  For a long, painful stretch of time, there was only the sound of the wind and ice pellets hitting the buggy, and the breathing of the family inside. Beneath the heavy folds of the quilt, Mary’s eyelids begin to droop.

  Ne! Mary admonished herself. She needed to stay awake to listen for Stumpy, Daed and Jeremiah. None of the others had heard before, so it was up to her to listen as hard as she could so that she could let them all back in when they came back.

  Mary pushed the quilt down off her shoulders, so she wasn't as comfortable. It was a lot colder in the buggy now. Mary felt guilty for having opened the door. But then she realized that the sputter and hum of the small heater had stopped. Either the wind from her opening the door had blown it out, or it had run out of fuel. Either way, now they only had the quilt and each other to keep warm.

  The lump in her throat was so large now that Mary could hardly breathe. She blinked, and tears rolled down her cheeks. She wiped her cheek with her damp mitten, which did little to dry her face. Her tears were salty, and her nose was getting full. Where was Stumpy? And Daed and Jeremiah?

  Dear Gott, please. Mary did not know what to pray for exactly, beyond what she had already asked. So, in her mind she just kept saying please. Please. Please. Please!

  And then, in the briefest pause between gusts of wind, she heard something.

  “Arf! Arf! Arf!"

  Mary's breath caught in her throat. "Did you hear that!"

  "Hear what?" Esther asked.

  Mary held her breath and strained to hear. Ja, it was barking.

  "Stumpy! I hear him!” They were getting closer. “Stumpy is bringing them back!"

  Though the wind still rattled across the buggy, it was not quite as loud as it had been. Or maybe Stumpy was simply barking so loudly, the wind could not match him.

  After the next flurry of barks, Esther exclaimed, "I hear them!"

  The wind was definitely getting quieter. Mary stood and ran over to her mamm's side to look through the front window of the buggy.

  Three hazy forms moved toward them through the snow. No, make that five. Her Daed and Jeremiah, shuffling through the snow, their shoulders hunched forward and their heads bowed against the wind. Daed and Jeremiah each held the lead of one of the two horses. In front of them, guiding the way, was Stumpy. His golden fur was frosted in white, and his ears were flat against his head. Mary ran to the door to the buggy and pushed it open, and hopped down into the snow. It was still falling heavily, but the wind had eased enough that her bonnet and hat stayed firmly on her head even as the falling ice and snow buffeted her face. Mary shaded her eyes with her left hand, and with her right, she waved vigorously, jumping up and down and shouting, "Daed! Jeremiah! Stumpy!"

  Stumpy barked back. "Arf! Arf! Arf!"

  Esther followed Mary into the snow, and John after that. By the time Mamm had also stepped out of the buggy, Daed and Jeremiah had made it almost to the front.

  When the horses had run off, the harness between them held without breaking, which at least made it possible to harness the buggy to them again.

  "It was a blessing from Gott, that dog," Mary’s daed said. "We followed the horses’ tracks easily enough, but by the time we got them out of the copse of t
rees that they’d sheltered in, the snow had grown so hard and fast that I despaired of us ever finding our way back to you. Me and Jeremiah and these horses were really quite turned around."

  "I knew when Stumpy started barking that he heard you." Mary threw her arms around her daed's waist. Normally, like most Amish families, they were reserved in their affection with each other, but now, after a miracle, all she wanted was to show her love for her daed and her gratitude that he was safe.

  Mamm, Esther and John must have felt the same way, because as the wind continued to die down, and the snowfall lightened from a near opaque curtain of white to a rain of powdered sugar, the whole family laughed and waved at each other, and when they were close enough to hug, they all embraced and thanked Gott for their good fortune.

  Stumpy ran to Mary and jumped up and down, balancing his one paw against her chest and licking her face. Mary petted him vigorously, her tears of sadness now transformed into tears of joy as she was reunited with her best friend.

  Daed said, "John, Jeremiah, why don't you to help me get these horses and this buggy back together, and then we can work out how we’re going to get to your aunt’s. Mary, Esther and Emma,” he said, referring to Mamm, “why don't you take Stumpy back into the buggy and get warmed up. We’ll have these horses back on the buggy in three shakes of a dog’s tail.”

  Mary grinned. The relief and happiness she felt was overwhelming. "Come on, Stumpy," she said, waving Stumpy to follow her into the buggy.

  Stumpy barked and followed.

  When Mary, Esther and Mamm were settled back inside the buggy, Mary lifted up her quilt and tapped the empty portion of the bench beside her. Stumpy hopped up, and Mary covered him in the quilt. Within minutes, Stumpy had fallen asleep on Mary's lap, and Mary had nodded off with her head resting on Esther's shoulder. She woke again with the cool breeze over her face as her daed, John and Jeremiah climbed back into the buggy.