LITMIR.BIZ

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depend on me and I on them. It’s true I don’t own a farm, but the Lord gave me responsibilities there I wouldn’t soon abandon.”

      He sharply called to the triplets, who sprinted across the lawn and piled into the buggy. The children waved to Abigail, her family and Hannah as they rode away, but Sawyer kept his eyes locked on the road ahead of him.

      That night when supper was served and they each asked for second helpings—Simon even requested a third—he decided no matter Hannah’s reason for feeding his children, he had been right to prohibit her from giving them sweets before supper as a general rule. An apology to her wasn’t necessary after all.

      * * *

      Hannah wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. She hoped the hot spell would break, but it still seemed more like the dog days of summer than nearly autumn. She was grateful Jacob and Miriam had given her a ride home from school on their way back from town, but standing over the gas stove cooking supper in the tiny kitchen caused her to sweat almost as much as if she’d walked home.

      “It’s dry,” her grandfather said disgustedly about the chicken she’d prepared. “Bring me a different piece.”

      Since she had served the only meat they had, Hannah took both of their plates to the stove and covertly switched her piece with his, slicing off the ends so he wouldn’t notice. While her back was still turned toward him, she practiced an old trick she and Eve sometimes used to communicate with each other.

      “Just once I wish I had someone to talk to in the evening who had something pleasant to say.” She spoke aloud, knowing he couldn’t see to read her lips. “Either that, or I wish I were the one who was deaf, so I couldn’t hear your surly remarks.”

      Without Eve’s sympathetic ear, expressing herself in such a manner did little to defuse Hannah’s frustration, and she remained feisty until bedtime, rushing through her evening prayers before crawling into bed. She kicked off her sheets as a drop of perspiration trickled down the side of her cheek and into her ear. Or perhaps it was a tear. Despite her best efforts to please everyone, the day had been plagued with upsetting events.

      First, Sawyer had shamed her for sharing her bread with Simon. Then Miriam had shown up at the schoolhouse at the end of the day and her effervescent glee emphasized how bereft Hannah felt.

      Although Amish women were reluctant to discuss such matters—sometimes not even mentioning they were carrying a child until the baby was born—Miriam confided that earlier in the morning, she had consulted a midwife.

      “I’ll soon give birth to a healthy bobbel, Gott willing,” Miriam tearfully divulged. “After losing three unborn bobblin, I can’t tell you how joyful we are.”

      “I am very joyful for you,” Hannah said, squeezing Miriam’s arm. “I will keep you in my prayers.”

      “Denki. The midwife warned me that meanwhile I must limit my physical activities. Abigail is a help, but with her at school, it’s difficult for me to keep up the house and garden.”

      Judging from how full-figured Miriam had become, Hannah guessed she had merely a month or two before she delivered, but that was an unspoken subject, something only God knew for certain.

      She was truly glad for Miriam and Jacob, and she wouldn’t have dreamed of begrudging them such fulfillment. Nor did she envy Miriam’s marriage: she’d always known Jacob wasn’t the Lord’s intended for her. But Miriam’s news made her all the more aware that soon she’d have to bid her students goodbye—and teaching them was the closest she’d ever come to having kinner herself. What was she going to do without their daily presence in her life?

      It didn’t help that just as Miriam was telling her about the bobbel, Hannah glimpsed Sawyer conversing with Jacob, and his chastisement burned afresh in her mind. It almost seemed as if neither man nor God believed she was fit to care for children!

      Her hurt was further magnified by the letter she had received upon arriving home.

      Dearest Hannah, her sister’s familiar penmanship said. I am so ecstatic I will burst if I have to keep it to myself any longer: I am with child!

      Of course, Hannah was elated that God had provided such a blessing for Eve, and she was exuberant she would soon be an aunt. But her joy was tinged with envy. Not only had her sister managed—at twenty-four years of age, which was considered late in life by their district’s standards—to meet and marry a good man who thoroughly loved her, but soon she’d experience motherhood, too.

      Every time Hannah thought she’d finally accepted that her prime responsibility was to care for her grandfather and her life wouldn’t include marriage or children, the desire for both manifested itself again, like symptoms of a virus she couldn’t shake. Would she ever be cured of the longing to have what it seemed she wasn’t meant to? And why can’t I have it? she lamented. It wasn’t as if she longed for something sinful: the Bible described children and married life as being gifts from God.

      She eased out of bed, donned her prayer kapp and knelt in the darkness. Please, Lord, show me Your provision for my life, especially once my teaching job ends, she beseeched. And help me to be content with it, whatever it may be.

      When she awoke the next morning, her pillow was still damp and her eyes were swollen, but her spirit was inexplicably peaceful. She didn’t know how it would happen, but she did know one way or another, God would provide for all of her physical, emotional and spiritual needs. She donned her kapp and knelt again.

      Lord, please forgive my envy and lack of faith. Help me to spend this day in glad service to You, she prayed.

      Despite the heat, she felt refreshed as she hiked through the fields toward the schoolhouse, listening to the birds and inhaling the scent of wildflowers. After Sawyer’s visit the previous morning, she had distanced herself from Sarah, Simon and Samuel for the rest of the day, fearing their father might interpret any kind attention she paid to them as spoiling them.

      But this morning, she realized she hadn’t responded maturely to Sawyer’s misunderstanding or given him a chance to acknowledge his mistake. She saw why he was concerned about his children’s health, and she’d certainly respect his wishes regarding their diet. As long as she didn’t give them treats, she didn’t believe he’d fault her for being nurturing and warm.

      The thought of a treat caused her mouth to water. Yesterday she was so out of sorts that she barely swallowed five bites of supper, and suddenly she felt ravenous. When she reached the classroom, she unwrapped a piece of sweet bread from her bag and pulled the preserves from the cooler. She bit into a thick slice, closing her eyes to enjoy the flavor in quiet solitude.

      “Guder mariye, Teacher,” several small voices squeaked merrily, interrupting her thoughts.

      Her mouth was too full to reply, but she reflexively stashed the remaining food into her bag, embarrassed to be caught eating at her desk again.

      * * *

      “Guder mariye,” Sawyer echoed his children.

      Hannah chewed quickly and then swallowed before replying. “Guder mariye.”

      “Is that the bread your groossmammi learned you how to make?” Samuel pointed.

      “Teached you,” Sarah corrected. “And it’s not polite to point.”

      “Hush,” Sawyer instructed them both. “We disrupted your teacher’s breakfast. Kumme, we’ll wait outside until she is finished.”

      “Denki, but I wasn’t really eating,” Hannah protested.

      Sawyer noticed a smudge of preserves at the corner of her mouth. She must have sensed him looking at it, because she traced her lips with her finger, her cheeks blotching with color.

      “I mean, I wasn’t eating breakfast,” she faltered. “It was only a treat. I have eggs for breakfast. Sometimes ham. That is, despite what you may think, I don’t ordinarily just have treats for breakfast. Or for snacks. Or at any time of the day. Not every day, anyway,

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