For now, her mission was to look for Lydia, who had vowed to be waiting for her near the entrance to the hayloft. So, wanting to appear as confident as possible, Lena Rose headed right to the upper level of the bank barn and heaved open the wooden door.
True to her word, Lydia was standing nearby, still wearing her black coat and outer bonnet. Her mittened hands peeked out from her coat sleeves. “You’re here, Lena. I’m so glad you came!”
“Been waitin’ long?” Lena asked, noticing how cleanly swept the wide wood planks were, the hay piled high on either side of the barn, and the hay baler parked off to one corner. The hosting family had certainly gone to a lot of trouble.
“Only a few minutes,” Lydia said. “I was talking to some of my cousins about the Christmas Eve school play. I hope you can go, too,” Lydia added. “Harley and Mimi enjoy seeing their grandchildren give their recitations each year.”
Suddenly, Lena’s heart was far away—this would be young Chris’s first time in the school Christmas program in their own community. “I’ve been hopin’ to return home by Christmas,” she told Lydia. “Or at least a visit.”
“Can’t imagine bein’ gone so long from family,” Lydia said, then went on to talk about how the Leacock Amish schoolteacher was older than some. “She’s close to thirty, I’ve heard. And word has it she’s teachin’ the children speaking parts for the Nativity scene. I’ve wondered if she might bring in some lambs, maybe, and some camels, too.” Lydia laughed. “Just kidding . . . that’d be much too fancy, ain’t?”
Lena was glad to have someone so interesting to talk with while they waited for the rest of die Youngie to arrive.
Three girls not far from them were talking quite animatedly about the coming holiday, saying what they were going to help their mothers make for the Christmas feast: candied fruit, pineapple coconut pie, chocolate macaroons, and sour cream chocolate cookies.
Lena’s mouth watered at the delicious options. She recalled all the splendid Christmas Eve afternoons she, Mamma, and Emma had spent in their large yet cozy kitchen baking their favorite holiday pies—cherry, pecan, and elderberry custard—and sand tarts, thin as dimes—and fresh loaves of bread. Wilbur or one of the younger boys would sneak in and put his fingers in the bowl of cookie dough when Mamma wasn’t looking. Lena knew, and so did Emma, but they would shrug it off, remembering when they, too, were little and doing the snitching.
Then, on Christmas, after they had all eaten their fill at noon, Dat would get an enormous grin on his handsome face and tell the older children to help Mamma get the younger ones all bundled up and ready, and out he’d go to the stable, bringing around the hay wagon. Those wagon rides along the snowy road north of Centreville to the red covered bridge had been one of the high points of every winter, all of them clustered together to keep warm. They had laughed and sung Christmas carols, then stopped in at neighbors’ to deliver cookies or popcorn balls and to sing “Joy to the World” and “Away in a Manger.” She had loved just being together, the twelve of them, enjoying their holiday traditions.
Cherishing the memories, Lena refused to dwell on her losses. There was much to look forward to, she told herself, holding her breath for Hans to come through with a plan for their time together. Surely he will.
“Are you all right?” Lydia asked, pulling her out of her reverie.
“Oh jah, sorry . . . just thinkin’ about home.”
Lydia nodded sympathetically.
Across one side of the hayloft, the young men stood in groups of five or six, wearing their black felt hats and black for-good clothes from church earlier. Lena didn’t attempt to see where her cousin Eli was just now; instead, she turned to look toward the clusters of young women dressed in pretty plum-colored dresses and matching capes and aprons, others in different colored dresses with aprons from the same colored fabric. Lena had worn her best mourning dress, a black dress and matching apron without the cape, in the style of the Centreville womenfolk, which stood out amidst the others as she and Lydia moved toward the rest of the courting-age girls, some already seated on one side of a long table. Fewer fellows were seated on the other side, as more were still milling about and talking.
A couple of young men walked across to greet Lena.
“Join us anytime,” one very tall young man told her, offering a firm handshake and saying his name was Andrew Blank. “Don’t hesitate, okay?”
Lydia introduced Lena to Andrew’s blushing friend, John Glick, who was caught between a smile and puckering frown, revealing his apparent shyness.
“Nice to meet you both,” Lena said, pleased with the warm reception but also hoping none of the young men would get the wrong idea about her reason for coming.
The farmer hosting the evening blew into the pitch pipe to start the Singing, and Lena followed Lydia to the table to sit down, trying to be discreet about being the new girl.
“See? You’re causin’ a real stir already,” Lydia said, glowing.
Rather embarrassed, Lena began to join in song with the others, surrounded by her budding friends.
During the time for refreshments, Lydia excused herself when Eli came over to talk with her, which was all right with Lena, who decided to take her hot cocoa to the corner and just observe. She felt more comfortable there, and besides, it wasn’t the first time Lena had ever leaned against the side of a barn feeling this shy, like John Glick had seemed. Lena felt a bit sorry for him, remembering how
