Anna's Gift. Emma Miller

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СКАЧАТЬ took Dat’s old barn coat off the hook and put it on.

      “Come along,” she called to the two dogs, as she tied a wool scarf over her head. Although she never shirked her share of what had to be done, Anna had never been fond of outside chores. Pigs and horses made her nervous, but cows were different. Cows were usually gentle, and there was something peaceful about milking. Anna had always found it a good time to pray. She had asked Mam once if it was irreverent to talk to God in a barn. Mam, in her wisdom, had said that since the baby Jesus had been born in a stable, she could see no reason why His Father in heaven would be put out.

      With Irwin gone to the auction with Miriam and Charley, Tyler, from down the road, was helping her this week. The red-cheeked twelve-year-old had already fed the horses and filled their water buckets. Both Bossy, the Holstein, and Polly, the Jersey, would be calving in the spring and had about gone dry. Tyler offered to milk them off while Anna milked Buttercup, the new Guernsey. Buttercup was as sweet as her name. She’d had a late calf and still produced lots of milk.

      “Good girl,” Anna crooned to the fawn-and-white cow with the large brown eyes. “Nice Buttercup.” She washed the cow’s udder with warm soapy water that she’d carried from the house, poured a measure of feed into the trough and settled onto the milking stool. The snow falling outside, the fragrant scents of hay and silage and the warmth of the animals made the barn especially cozy today, making Anna content. As she rested her head against Buttercup’s side and streams of milk poured into the shiny stainless steel bucket, Anna’s heart swelled with joy as she thought of all the gifts the Lord had bestowed on her.

      She had a wonderful mother and sisters, a home that she loved and the security of a faith and community that surrounded her like a giant hug. Even the grief of her father’s death more than two years ago had begun to ease, so that she could remember the good times that they’d had together. They all would have wanted Dat to live to be a hundred, but it wasn’t meant to be. No human could hope to understand God’s ways, least of all her. What she could do was work each day to appreciate the bounty He had blessed her with.

      Silently, Anna offered prayers for her mother’s and sisters’ safe return from their journeys, and for the health of Grossmama and Aunt Jezebel. As she prayed, the level of the milk rose in the pail, smelling sweet and fresh, drawing the barn cats to patiently wait for her to finish.

      She asked God to heal Samuel’s sorrow for the loss of his wife and give him the wisdom and patience to tend his children. Above all, she prayed for little Mae, so far from the only home and the only mother she’d ever known. She finished, as always, with the Lord’s prayer and a plea that He guide her hands and footsteps through the day to help her serve her family and faith according to God’s plan. She was about to murmur a devout amen, when one last prayer slipped between her lips.

      “And please, God, if it seems right, could you find someone to marry me, someone with a heart as good as Samuel’s?”

      “Ya?” Tyler called from a stall away. “You said something to me?” He stood up from behind Bossy. “Not much this morning from her.”

      “Ne,” Anna replied quickly.

      She pressed her lips tightly together. She hadn’t meant to trouble God with her small problems, and she certainly hadn’t meant for Tyler to hear. Her eyelids felt prickly and moisture clouded her eyes. She hadn’t meant to be selfish this morning, but since she had uttered her deepest wish, maybe the Lord wouldn’t take it amiss.

      She blinked away the tears and closed her eyes. This is Anna Yoder again, Lord. I know that I’m not slim or pretty or particularly smart, she offered silently, but I think I would make a good wife and mother. So if You happen to come across someone who needs a willing partner, remember me.

      “Anna?”

      Jerked from her thoughts, Anna realized that Tyler was now standing beside her. At twelve, he was losing the look of a child and starting to shoot up, all long legs and arms, but he still retained the sweet, easygoing nature that he possessed since he’d been a babe.

      “Sorry,” Anna said. “I didn’t hear—”

      Tyler grinned, his blue eyes sparkling with humor. “Falling asleep on the milking stool, I’d say.” He held out his pail. It wasn’t even half full. “All I could get from the two of them.” He set the bucket on a feed box. “I’d best be getting to school.”

      “You better stop by the chair shop and see if your Dat’s heard anything about school. Be sure Johanna hasn’t cancelled.”

      “That’d be nice.” Tyler grinned even wider. “Then I can go sledding.” He pulled thick blue mittens from his jacket pocket. “You need me tomorrow?”

      “Ne,” Anna replied. “Miriam, Charley and Irwin should be back today.” Anna patted Buttercup, lifted her bucket away from the cow and got to her feet.

      “Unless this turns into a blizzard and they’re stuck in Virginia. Irwin’s lucky, getting out of school all week.”

      “Don’t worry. Mam will see that he makes up every last math problem. And you know how he hates homework.” After a rocky start when Irwin had first come to Seven Poplars, he and Tyler had struck up a fast friendship. Anna was glad to see it. Irwin needed friends, and he couldn’t pick a better pal than steady Tyler.

      “I’ll see to the chickens on the way out,” Tyler called over his shoulder.

      Anna turned Buttermilk into a shed with the others, and then started for the house with a milk pail in each hand. She was halfway across the yard and planning what to cook for breakfast, when the two dogs suddenly began to bark, and abruptly Samuel and all five of his children came around the corner of the corn crib. Anna was so surprised that she nearly dropped the milk. Samuel? Again, this morning?

      She scrambled for something to say that wouldn’t sound foolish, but all she could manage was, “Good morning!”

      Samuel had one girl—it appeared to be Lori Ann—clinging to his back and he was pulling another on a sled. They were so bundled up against the cold that it was hard to tell the two smallest ones apart. The twins, Rudy and Peter, trudged behind him, and Naomi trailed behind them. “Good morning to you, Anna!” Samuel called cheerfully. Lori Ann echoed her father’s greeting.

      “You walked,” Anna said, which sounded even more foolish. It was obvious that they had walked. There was no buggy in sight and Samuel was pulling the sled. They had probably taken a shortcut across the adjoining fields rather than coming by the road.

      “School is closed,” Naomi supplied.

      “C-c-closed,” chimed Lori Ann.

      “I came to finish the room,” Samuel explained. His wide-brimmed felt hat and his beard were covered with snow, and it seemed to Anna as if the snowflakes had gotten as large as cotton balls since she’d gone into the barn. “To give it a second coat,” Samuel finished.

      “Oh.” Had they eaten breakfast? What could she offer them? Anna wondered. She and Susanna had planned on oatmeal and toast this morning. The thought that Samuel had caught her at less than her best again flashed through her mind. She was wearing Dat’s barn coat and her hair wasn’t decently covered with her kapp.

      “You don’t have to feed us this morning,” Samuel said, as if reading her mind. “I fed them all before the oldest went off to school.”

      “But СКАЧАТЬ