An Amish Christmas (26 page)

“You loved that table. It meant something to you,” he said. “I had no right to ask you to get rid of it. Heck, you should have put it dead center in the house if you wanted to. I’m really sorry about that.” He smiled. “Along with a lot of other things.”

Meg looked at him. “Thank you, James,” she said.

The rest of the day passed quickly, with Christmas storytelling and more singing of hymns. Supper was only somewhat lighter than lunch. Meg and James joked about how lucky they were to be getting away from all this fattening food, while the Lutzes teased that the two of them would be too weak to work hard enough to be of any use.

After supper, the older boys went to visit some friends, and the rest of the children spent one last night playing games together. They went to bed earlier than usual, because the Lutz family was leaving at six
A.M
. to spend the day with relatives who lived a three-hour ride away. When it came time to say good night, the children all exchanged hugs. The Lutz children, Meg noticed, were affectionate and composed. It was clear that they were sorry to see their new friends go, but they remained cheerful. Will, Lizzie, and Sam were more visibly
upset, Lizzie and Sam in particular getting teary-eyed over their farewells. James reminded them that they would be living under fifty miles away. The Hobarts would be driving back often to visit.

When the children were settled in for the night, Catherine and Meg sat at the kitchen table to share a final cup of tea. As soon as Meg started to look for the words to express her appreciation, Catherine cut her off. “Please do not say these things.” Despite the firmness in her tone, she looked pleased. “Instead, I will tell you something. Benjamin is coming home for good. He told us today.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” said Meg, thrilled that it had been brought out in the open in time for her to share the good news with Catherine. “It’s beyond wonderful.” Meg reached across the table to take the other woman’s hand. “I can only guess at what you’ve been going through. I’m so happy for you.”

Catherine smiled at her. “Thank you, my friend.”

They drank their tea in an easy silence. When they had finished, Catherine took their cups and washed them out, standing them upside down in the dish drain. She turned to face Meg. “So you are leaving, but we will see you again, yes?”

“Yes.”

“You won’t forget us?”

Meg smiled. “Not likely.”

Catherine nodded. “When you come to visit, you will bring us some brownies. One thing less for me to bake.”

“It’s a deal.”

“And when summer comes, I will show you how we make
the jams and preserves like you see downstairs.” Catherine grinned. “I think you will find time for it.”

Meg laughed, astonished that Catherine remembered her earlier comment about always being too busy to learn. She came around to Meg and gave her a hug. “I believe you will all be fine. This will be a good thing for you.”

Meg was startled. It was the first personal comment Catherine had made about the Hobarts’ situation.

Catherine looked at Meg with her customary directness. “You will be all right. And you come see us soon.” With a nod, she turned and left the room.

In the morning the Hobarts were subdued as they made their final preparations to go. Quietly, they gathered whatever last belongings had migrated around the house and finished packing their small bags.

Meg shivered in the cold morning air as she dressed. Tucking in her shirt, she felt something in one of her pants pockets. She reached in to discover the refrigerator magnet she had taken from the house as she walked out the door in Charlotte.

Esse quam videri
. To be, rather than to seem.

She stared at it. The motto had been her inspiration for so long, as she tried to
feel
the way she thought she should be, rather than just to
seem
to feel it. Now she saw it in a completely different way. These people, Catherine and David and even their young children, had shown her what it meant to
be
rather than to
seem
. They didn’t talk about what they did, how they felt about it, or what it meant. They knew how to just
be
.
They knew what they valued: religion, community, work. They followed those values, and as a result they were completely genuine in everything they did. To be, rather than to seem. A far, far harder ideal than Meg had ever imagined.

When James and Meg went downstairs with their bags for the last time, they found Sam with Old Samuel. Sam was clutching Rufus, tearfully burying his face in the puppy’s neck.

“I go to get my wife, and we will leave now, Young Samuel. So we must say good-bye,” Old Samuel said.

Tears wetting his face, Sam rushed into the older man’s arms. “Good-bye, Old Samuel,” he managed to get out.

Samuel patted him on the head and stepped back. Sorrowfully Sam extended Rufus to him. “What is this?” Old Samuel asked.

“We’re leaving, too, so could you take him now?”

Samuel shook his head. “Everyone knows this dog belongs to you. He must go with you, wherever you go.”

Sam looked stunned. “You want me to take him?”

“The two of you are always together. He is your dog.”

“I can’t just take him.”

“Why not? We have many dogs here. We will have more dogs again. I know you will take good care of Rufus.”

Sam looked at his parents.

Meg turned to James. “Will they let us have a dog at this place?”

“I’m not sure.” He thought for a moment. “Wait, I think I saw a dog near the front door there. Somebody has one, even if it’s just the owner.”

“Then it’s fine with me,” Meg said. “What do you say?”

James looked at Sam. “Congratulations, sport. You are now a dog owner.”

Shock and joy lit up Sam’s face as he turned back to Old Samuel. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Thank you.”

Old Samuel rested his hand on Sam’s head once more. “Many more best things will happen to you, Young Samuel.” The old man turned to go but paused. He addressed himself to Meg and James. “Take good care of my young friend.”

Then the three of them were alone.

“Wait until I tell Lizzie and Will,” Sam burst out, rushing toward the stairs.

James brought the Mustang up the roadway, close to the front of the house. This time the children helped pass bags to their parents as they packed the trunk, and all five of the Hobarts walked around the house one last time to make sure nothing was left behind.

No one had to give voice to what they were all thinking: how strange it felt to be getting into a car instead of a horse-drawn buggy. When James slammed the trunk shut, the children took their pillows and blankets into the car and shoved their small extra bags beneath their feet. Sam was still relegated to the least comfortable spot, the middle of the backseat, but now he had Rufus on his lap.

The sun had risen to shine brightly in a crisp blue sky. When they were all settled into the car, James turned the ignition key, and they heard the familiar sound of the engine coming to life. Slowly, they drove the length of the roadway. Every one of
them turned for a last look at the big white house, at the barn, at the attachment where Old Samuel and Leah lived, at the houses next door and across the road.

James braked at the end of the dirt road, then made a right turn and picked up speed on the main road. Through the swells and dips of the hills they saw the farms and homes extending in all directions. Here and there they observed gray buggies, singly or in pairs, moving along the snowy roads.

From the backseat, Will’s voice was jarring. “Can you believe this place?”

Meg and James turned to look at him, aghast at the all-too-familiar snide tone.

“Kill me now,” Lizzie answered.

It took but a moment for everyone to recognize the words. They were what the two had said when they first set eyes on the Lutz farm.

The family’s laughter echoed as the car turned onto the highway.

C
YNTHIA
K
ELLER
lives in Connecticut with her husband and two children.