Lena Rose assured him that she did not expect that. Even so, she would continue to pray for a single family to step forward, unlikely as that was.
“The Neuenschwanders just up the road might have room for three of the boys. Maybe the twins and Benjamin could go there,” Uncle Noah suggested, brow furrowed, “since they’re close in age.”
“But Benjamin and Timothy are so fond of each other. I don’t think the two of them should be separated, either,” Lena said, shaking her head. “Ach, I really dislike splitting up any of us, let alone having some go outside the family.”
Uncle Noah ran his thick fingers through his beard. “ ’Tis not ideal, I know.”
Truth was, Lena felt overwhelmed by the weight of it all . . . and the news of their enormous loss was still only days old. She wished with all of her heart that she knew what her parents would want for them. As relatively young as Dat and Mamma were, they’d never discussed anything of the sort. But unexpected things sometimes happened, and Dat had always taught them to trust in their heavenly Father. “He alone knows what’s best,” dear Dat had often said.
“We really oughta call it a night,” Aunt Mary said as she leaned forward at the table, her blue eyes filled with tears. “Let you get some much-needed rest, Lena Rose.”
I don’t see how, Lena thought miserably.
“Meanwhile, we’ll look to Gott for help, as we do each day.” Uncle Noah pushed his chair back.
Aunt Mary quietly picked up their coffee cups and carried them to the sink.
Lena was relieved her aunt and uncle were staying with them again tonight. On top of her ongoing sorrow, she felt panicked about the likelihood of not being able to keep the family together, of disappointing her brothers and sisters. The sense of utter helplessness was almost paralyzing.
Going upstairs after her uncle and aunt headed for bed, Lena tried not to think about the dilemma her beloved family was facing, let alone their treasured house being sold at auction to the highest bidder. We’re losing everything. But at least the house wouldn’t be put up for sale till they were all settled with new families.
Must we split up, O Lord? she prayed. Isn’t there another way?
Tiptoeing from one bedroom to another, Lena looked in on her cherished siblings, covering them with the lightweight summer quilts Mamma had made through the years. She couldn’t bear to think of being apart from any of them. How could they endure such a thing, especially now?
At Wilbur’s bedside, she clasped her brother’s strong hand, his bedsheet twisted like a rope around him. “You can’t sleep, jah?” she whispered.
He lifted his head and nodded. “Who can?” Wilbur pushed his free hand through his light brown hair. “I overheard ya talkin’ downstairs.”
Lena nodded without elaborating.
Sighing, Wilbur said, “If only I was older . . . then maybe we could stay together, ain’t?”
“Gott sees our hearts. . . . I know He cares for us.” She gripped his hand all the more tightly.
Wilbur’s breath seemed to catch in his throat. “No matter what, we’ll always be a close family, jah?”
“For certain.” She patted his hand and remembered the time one of their bantam hens had pecked the back of her hand while they were collecting eggs. Eight-year-old Wilbur, bless his heart, had wiped the blood off with his blue paisley kerchief. Even though he was three years younger than she, Wilbur was always finding little ways to look after her. Dat and Mamma were both so pleased with him. . . .
Not wanting to break down in front of her brother, Lena left the room quietly.
She made her way back to the youngest boys’ room and walked to Chris’s bed. Leaning down to gently touch his forehead, tears welled up as she remembered his heartbroken reaction to their parents’ passing. He’d clung to her like he had as a tiny boy when frightened by thunder and lightning.
Satisfied that Chris was asleep, Lena made her way to the room she shared with Emma at the far end of the hall, next to Liz and Verena’s room. Dear Lord in heaven, please comfort our broken hearts again this night, Lena prayed. She couldn’t let her dismay at the accident keep her from praying.
The oil lantern was still lit on Emma’s side of the bed, where her sister sat in her white cotton nightgown reading her Biewel. When she looked up, Lena saw her tear-stained face and went to sit beside her.
“Has anything been decided yet?” Emma asked softly, her blond braids already out of her daily bun for the night.
Lena sighed, her mind foggy with grief. “Our hope is in the Lord. We must keep prayin’ for a family to take us in. All of us.”
“Oh, Lena . . .” Emma frowned and looked terribly worried. “Who could offer such a thing?”
Lena Rose didn’t want to tell her dear sister that, aside from a miracle, they would be scattered to the winds.
“I’ve been thinkin’,” Emma said, her voice husky with emotion, “I’d like to help you and the womenfolk sort through Mamma’s and Dat’s things tomorrow. Could I?”
“Are ya sure, sister?”
Emma blinked and nodded. “Won’t be easy, but I really want to.”
Gently, Lena pulled her sister near. “Doing it together will make it less painful. Denki.”
Thus far, Lena Rose had done her best to grieve privately; she had to be strong for her brothers and sisters. Dear Lord, may it be so, she prayed as she removed her black Kapp and unpinned her own heavy braids. She thought of all the many times Mamma had gently brushed and braided her hair when she was little. How I miss you and Dat already, Lena thought, tears falling.
The deacon dropped by a few days later on his way to help the neighbors dig potatoes with other menfolk from the church district. He proposed that Lena Rose and Uncle Noah
