Sarah's Christmas Miracle (16 page)

Sunday Morning

C
al sipped his coffee and watched folks trailing into the Catholic church across the street. Although their comings and goings had never intrigued him before, today he studied the expressions of contentment, anticipation, and even joy filling their faces—emotions long absent for him. He stared for ten minutes until no more late arrivals entered the three-story stone church with soaring bell tower.

Without pausing to contemplate his actions, he pulled on his coat and ran down two flights of steps to street level. He didn’t stop running until he had crossed the street and opened the pine bough-festooned front door and entered the sanctuary. He quietly slipped into the back row, far to the right, and glanced around. The interior of the church caused his jaw to drop. He couldn’t imagine the existence of such grand and ornate buildings, let alone a house of the Lord. The ceiling soared into carved, curved rafters as lifelike statues of saints stood sentinel from every nook and alcove. A beatific Mary, holding the baby Jesus, smiled down on the congregation with grace, while rows of small candles burned at her feet.

Growing up in a community that worshipped God in folks’ living rooms and outbuildings, Cal was shocked by the opulence. Most striking were the enormous windows, each depicting a scene from the Savior’s life, although many Cal didn’t recognize from his father’s Bible reading. The stained glass drew his attention with near-hypnotic power. When the congregation stood to sing, kneeled to pray, or sat to listen to the sermon, Cal caught only bits and pieces. Instead, his mind wandered back to his own Christian upbringing—praying beside his bed, listening to Scripture around the woodstove, and attending church services with people who loved him. He closed his eyes and remembered how many times his prayers had been answered and the comfort he’d received from his faith. His memories of a rural world seemed ages ago. When he opened his eyes and glanced around, most had gone except for a few still on their knees in prayer.

“I’m Father Al. May I sit with you?” Without hesitation, a man in a long black robe and high white collar sat down next to him.

Cal quickly sat up straight. “You clearing folks outta here?”

The priest smiled, deepening the web of wrinkles around his eyes. “Not at all. Please stay as long as you like. I saw you looked troubled and thought you might like to talk.”

“Why would you want to talk to me? I don’t go to church here.”

He laughed softy. “Because it’s my job to help people, whether or not they are parishioners or even Catholic.”

“Tell me something, then. Why is this place so over-the-top fancy? I grew up Amish and never saw anything like this.”

The priest leaned back in the pew and studied the surroundings. “I suppose this would be pretty overwhelming to an Amish man.”

“I said I grew up Amish. I’m not anymore,” Cal snapped. “I’m nothing now.” He arched his back while his hands clenched into fists.

“That’s where you’re wrong, son. In the eyes of the Lord, you’re certainly not nothing. Once you’ve known Him, and more to the point, He’s gotten to know you, you’ll never be forgotten.”

Cal wanted to argue with this man in odd clothes, but nothing came out when he opened his mouth to speak. He stared down at his chapped and calloused hands.

“What drew you here this morning?” the priest asked. “Why did you come inside St. Stephen’s?”

“Because everybody coming to your church looked happy. I haven’t felt that way in a long time.” Cal’s words were little more than a whisper. “I wanted to know what was going on that made folks so all-fired eager to come.”

“I would like to say it’s the rousing sermons, but more likely it’s the season. It’s impossible
not
to get fired-up when we remember God sent His only Son to earth that we may be saved—that through our steadfast faith in Him, we can one day enjoy the rewards of heaven.”

There it is, the same basic principle taught by the ministerial brethren, here in a place looking like a king’s palace.
“God wouldn’t be too happy about your church spending money on fancy decorations when so many are suffering out there.” Cal gestured toward the street and spat out bitter words borne of frustration.

The priest’s expression revealed surprise but not outrage. “Sounds like you’re angry, son. Whom are you mad at?”

“The job market, my mess of a life…mostly me, I guess.” Resentment drained away as quickly as it had appeared.

The priest placed his hand on Cal’s shoulder. “Then what’s keeping you here? If city life holds nothing for you, why not go home?”

Cal released a weary sigh. “I can’t go home. You don’t know what I’ve done. One night I drank an entire six-pack and passed out on the couch, sleeping all night in my clothes.” In a barely audible voice he continued, “I haven’t prayed or opened my Bible in ages. I haven’t kept myself pure for marriage, and I’m a disgrace to my family.”

Several long moments passed before the priest spoke as the magnificent church grew deathly quiet. “Do you think you’re the only Christian who has ever sinned? Do you think you have done so much wrong that your parents could never forgive you? Do you think
God
can never forgive you? Because I assure you, if you are penitent, God will hear and answer prayers for forgiveness. God the Father, the Holy Spirit, and our Savior Jesus are the same here in St. Stephen’s as back home. Just close your eyes, still your mind, and listen with your heart.”

Cal couldn’t speak. He could barely breathe. His throat had swelled with a burning tightness. Tears he’d been holding back since the priest sat down filled his eyes. He didn’t want Father Al to see his weakness.
I am a grown man, not a
boppli.

For the first time in years, a
Deutsch
word had come to mind instead of English. He hadn’t forgotten the dialect of his childhood. Memories of his
mamm
and
daed
flooded back, with her gentle words and his guiding hands. No longer able to contain his emotions, Caleb bowed his head and wept. The priest squeezed his shoulder once more and silently crept away. Tears flowed uncontrollably down Cal’s face, washing away the last vestiges of his arrogance, pride, and shame.

“Sarah, are you up?” Elizabeth called up the steps. “A little help, please, but I just want you.”

Sarah smiled patiently at Rebekah, who felt left out because
mamm
kept requesting Sarah alone. Elizabeth had had few questions about Caleb when Sarah had first returned late Tuesday evening. By the time Mrs. Pratt had picked her up at the station and driven her home, it had been almost eight o’clock.
Mamm
’s
questions had required a simple yes or no.

“Was your
bruder
happy to see you?”
More shocked than overjoyed.

“How did you like Cleveland?”
Loved the lake, the downtown skyscrapers, and the West Side Market, but Caleb’s apartment wasn’t fit for our sow and piglets.

“Did Caleb look well?”
Jah, unless you counted thirty pounds thinner, eyes that looked everywhere except into another person’s, and his garish snake-infested tattoo advertising someone named Kristen.

But Sarah hadn’t mentioned any of that. She’d given little information about Caleb without outright lying. And
mamm
had seemed content with her abbreviated explanation. She’d been so happy that Sarah had returned that she hugged her like a bear, kissed her twice, and sent her to bed with a mug of hot cocoa. But over the next several days, Elizabeth’s curiosity about Caleb’s life had gotten the best of her while ironing in the kitchen, sewing by the fire, or hanging clothes on the back porch. Slowly, Sarah had been forced to admit Caleb was unemployed, broke, not eating properly, didn’t attend church, and had few friends. Yet she couldn’t reveal the things he’d done that kept him from coming home. Better for their mother to believe Caleb was experiencing a rough patch than know he’d grown hopelessly dissolute during the past few years.

Sarah finished pinning her hair into a tight bun, slipped on her
kapp
, and went downstairs.
“Guder mariye.”

Elizabeth stood at the stove, frying bacon. “About time, young lady. Please start scrambling the eggs. Folks need to eat so we can leave for the preaching service. The hosting family lives an hour away.”

“Do you suppose the Troyers will be there?” Sarah asked, breaking eggs into a bowl.

“Don’t know why they wouldn’t be. Is that what took so long—taking extra care before you see Adam?” She clucked her tongue. “I thought I smelled something peachy when you walked into the kitchen.”

Sarah felt herself blush. “
Jah
, I used some scented body lotion. I need to make a good impression.” She whisked milk and fresh mushrooms into the eggs.

“It’s only been a week since you last saw him, not six months.” Elizabeth transferred bacon strips onto paper towels to drain.

“True, but we argued at our last meeting, and I wasn’t very nice to him. We didn’t leave things on good terms.”

“Oh? Do you wish to tell me why you argued?”

“He didn’t want me to go to Cleveland. And when I said I was going anyway, he said he would come along to keep me safe.” Sarah couldn’t meet her mother’s gaze. “I told him I didn’t want him to accompany me.”

Elizabeth pivoted to face her. “Oh, Sarah, that’s not like you to be so insensitive.”

“I know. Now I’m anxious to make amends before he replaces me with a fiancée not so mean spirited.” She placed a lid on the pan and walked over to the counter to pour a cup of coffee, needing to get everything off her chest before the family came downstairs. “I told him I wanted to find out why Caleb left us.”

Elizabeth looked white as a bedsheet as she turned back to the stove. After a moment she asked, “And did you find out, daughter?”

“
Jah.
It was all about the money he could make on English construction crews. He found out how much union carpenters earned and couldn’t resist. He did quite well for a couple of years.”

Her
mamm
snorted. “Money—love of the almighty dollar has led many young men to ruin. Perhaps someday his gold will lose its luster and he’ll be back.” She dried her hands on her apron with a face looking years younger than yesterday. “I’ll call your
daed
in from chores so we can eat. The Beachys aren’t sashaying into church late.”

Sarah set the table and then poured tall glasses of milk. There was no way she could admit Caleb’s gold had already tarnished and disappeared long ago. It wasn’t easy money separating him from his family but specters of shame and regret. However, she had dwelled on her
bruder
’s woes long enough. Today, she must find the path of reconciliation back to Adam, if it wasn’t already too late.

As much as she enjoyed worship services, especially during Advent when the ministers read the Christmas story from all four Gospels, she couldn’t wait for church to be over. She hadn’t seen Adam beforehand, and she couldn’t locate him in the men’s rows. If he hadn’t come today, when would they find a chance to mend fences?

Finally, while the ladies carried hot food from the house to the barn for the noon meal, she spotted him talking with a group of men on the porch. Sarah approached until certain Adam had seen her and then waited until Samuel finished a long-winded story.

“Good afternoon, Miss Beachy,” said Adam, coming down the steps. “I see you’ve returned to Wayne County after all.” His expression remained placid and unreadable.

“Of course I’ve come back. There never was any doubt.”

“And what did you think of Cleveland?”

“Big, slushy, beautiful town square, lots of empty houses, and a wonderful lake with hundreds of seagulls.” Nervous anxiety made her breath catch in her throat.

“And your brother—did you find him? Is he faring well?” Adam walked a step closer.

“
Jah
, I found him at his last address, but he’s not doing as well as he would like. He’s fallen into some bad habits, I’m afraid.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He stepped out of earshot from those on the porch, looking saddened by her news.

“But I don’t want to talk about Caleb, at least not right now.” Her forehead and back began to perspire despite temperatures in the thirties. “I want to talk about us, Adam. I’m sorry I’ve been so standoffish. I
do
wish to be your girl. That is, if you haven’t already replaced me with someone less wishy-washy.”

His face melted into a grin as he reached for her hand. “I thought I’d give you another year before rushing out to find a replacement. While you were seeking answers from Caleb, my sister explained a few things to me. Apparently, decisiveness and determination can easily become inflexibility and intolerance.”

Sarah’s eyes widened. “Who taught you this?”

“Amanda,” he said with a twinkle in his cornflower blue eyes. “She’s taken me under her wing in the romance department.” He pulled her to his side.

“Amanda Troyer is giving courting advice?” she asked, leaning into his shoulder. “Well, this is the season for miracles, no?”