Arden moved back to look into her eyes. “Tell me.”
Then she quoted the line that had so inspired her. “‘May God keep you in His care till we’re together again, in His time.’ In that line, Dat revealed how much trust he put in the Lord for his courtship with Mamma . . . and for the timing for their marriage. And then to think you signed your farewell note to me in nearly the same way,” she added. Now the tears were coming, and it was impossible to stop them.
“Trusting in God’s plan isn’t always easy, ’specially when the way isn’t clear.” Arden embraced her again. “Ach, did I ever have to learn that lesson, starting the minute you moved away from Leacock Township . . . letting ya go as I did.”
Lena brushed away her tears. “You mean ya had no idea we’d be together like this?”
“Lena Rose,” he whispered, “meetin’ you and knowin’ how much you longed for your family here . . . well, it was the hardest thing for me to say good-bye that day on the road.”
She remembered the agonizing farewell. “Want to know a secret?” she asked.
“Well, did ya want to run an’ catch up with me, just maybe?” he teased, but then just as quickly, she could see that he was completely serious.
“It was all I could do not to, jah. How’d ya know?”
“I wanted to do the same thing,” he confessed, reaching for her hand. “I love you, Lena Rose.”
“I love you, too.” More than you might guess. “Good things do come out of deep sorrow and great loss . . . at least in time,” she said, her heart filled with gratitude.
Arden glanced out at the sky filled with stars, then back at her. “The two of us together like this is proof, jah?”
Epilogue
The weekend after Thanksgiving, Arden and I were on our way over to the Neuenschwanders’ with Chris to sled with the other boys. The air was so crisp that we could see the horse’s breath, like a small billowy cloud against the cold.
Arden looked at Chris, who was wearing his warmest coat, snow pants, and mittens. “Are ya helpin’ your Dawdi and Mammi these days?” Arden asked.
Chris nodded thoughtfully. “Doin’ my best.”
“Des gut.”
Chris glanced at me. “Mammi says I have more energy than two boys!”
I smiled at Arden’s amused expression.
“Well,” Arden said, “I haven’t talked this over with your sister here, but once we tie the knot next year, we’ll be renting a house.” He caught my eye. “One with plenty-a space.”
Chris listened, eyebrows rising.
Arden continued. “And I was thinking . . .”
Oh goodness, I could practically feel Chris’s growing excitement.
“Jah?” he said, leaning forward.
“Would ya like to come live with us?” Arden asked.
Chris popped right out of his seat, a grin clear across his rosy cheeks. “That’s just what I was hopin’ for!”
Winking at me, Arden smiled. “What do ya say, Lena Rose?”
Chris and I had prayed about this, I recalled, but I never expected it would be with Arden, back when. Oh, the love I felt for this man! “It’s a wunnerbaar-gut idea,” I agreed.
Chris reached over to shake Arden’s hand; then he hugged my neck. “This is the best news ever!” he said. “But won’t Mammi and Dawdi Schwartz be sad?” He suddenly looked pensive, his mouth curving down.
“Well, remember, you’ll be with them for another year yet,” I told him.
Chris nodded slowly. “And Dawdi’s not real strong anymore, so he and Mammi might be ready to have a quieter house,” he added.
“I’m thinkin’ you’re prob’ly right,” I said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Such a wise boy you are.”
“Am I as wise as you, Lena Rose?”
I had to laugh. “What do ya mean?”
Chris was looking at Arden and grinning again. “’Cause ya picked a mighty fine beau.”
“Truth be told, the Good Lord did the pickin’,” I said. “And when ya say your prayers tonight, be sure to thank our heavenly Father for bringin’ Arden into our lives, all right?”
Chris bobbed his head and grew quiet, and I could tell he was thinking hard about something. “Do ya remember after Dat and Mamma died, when I said I’d obey whatever ya said?”
“I never forgot.”
“Well, Arden, I’ll be just as obedient for you, too,” declared Chris now. “And hard-workin’.”
Arden was nodding, grinning now. “You know, I really have the best end of the deal, getting to live with my new younger brother.”
Chris beamed at that, and I patted his knee. “We’re going to have fun bein’ a family together,” I said, certain it was true.
Sitting there between Arden in the driver’s seat and my precious little brother, I thought, I never could’ve planned such a day. I recalled what my mother had often said to me, “Always remember Who holds your future.”
“Dearest Mamma,” I whispered as I glanced toward the sky.
My heart knew that all the dear ones God had placed in my path had been part of His beautiful plan, one that had brought me to this remarkable season of thanksgiving . . . and led me home.
Note from the Author
At times, I am surprised at the way God brings my research assistants across my path, especially those heralding from Amish communities outside of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, where I grew up. For instance, from the first call to a Centreville, Michigan, phone shanty in the middle of a cornfield, I was blessed to begin a special friendship with a wonderful Amish couple eager to share their lives and the answers to my questions. Later, additional research assistants helped me in uncovering Amish practices in St. Joseph County, Michigan, and Elkhart County, Indiana, during the 1970s. Among them are Mel Riegsecker, Wilbur Bontrager, John MacDonald, Erik Wesner, Liz Miller Carmel, her father, and her Michigan Amish cousin, and the good folk at Nottawa Fruit Farm. Thank you all!
My sincere appreciation also goes to Cynthia Marquet, curator of the Ressler Mill Foundation. Cynthia read sections of the manuscript pertaining to the historic water-powered gristmill found on the banks of Mill Creek
