Healing Their Amish Hearts. Leigh Bale

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       Chapter Two

      Becca pulled another dusty book off the shelf and promptly sneezed. Flipping through the front table of contents, she read each topic, searching for anything that might help Sam King. After a few moments, she added this text to her growing pile. She had chosen at least six good books on vocabulary and selective mutism and how to help children who wouldn’t speak.

      Standing inside the town library, she perused a bulleted list on a tip sheet, her mind churning. The little bit she’d learned that morning was not what she’d expected. Not at all. Selective mutism wasn’t a problem where a child refused to speak in order to get attention. Nor was the child acting naughty. Rather, such children had an anxiety disorder wherein they couldn’t speak because their apprehension was so severe they were actually scared silent.

      Flipping to a chapter on treatment, she braced the book against the shelf and continued reading. It was Saturday morning and she’d taken advantage of the clear weather to come into town and see what she might find. She could check out library books, as long as they magnified Jesus Christ. Jakob Fisher, her first cousin, had driven her here but she’d have to walk back to his farm. She lived with Jakob, his wife and three children, her aunt and grandfather. If she found some help for Sam today, the nine-mile walk home would be worth it.

      An hour earlier, she’d paid a quick visit to Caroline Schwartz, Sam’s permanent teacher. The poor girl was still in the hospital, her legs and hips in traction. If Caroline hoped to walk again, she’d be restricted to bed for the next four months. At barely eighteen years of age, Caroline seemed even more inexperienced at teaching than Becca. And since the accident had happened about the same time Jesse and Sam had moved to the area, Caroline hadn’t yet been able to do anything about the boy’s problem. She’d explained to Becca that she’d ordered a newsletter written by Amish parents of special needs children titled Life’s Special Sunbeams. That might be of some help but Becca doubted it. Still, she had the address of the national publication and planned to subscribe as well.

      Caroline had also tried to speak with Jesse King but the man had terrified her with his offish manner. No surprise there. Jesse didn’t seem to like anyone. But Becca wasn’t about to let the oafish man scare her off. She was determined to do something to help Sam, with or without his father’s cooperation. She believed Sam’s unwillingness to speak had everything to do with his mother and sisters’ deaths.

      Lifting the pile of books, Becca carried them back to the open area of the library. Her mind buzzed with a number of techniques she’d like to try with Sam. Ritual greetings every morning at school, including him in activities even if he didn’t speak and some other techniques to reduce his anxiety while at school. She had some flash cards she could use but thought she might need to spend extra time working one-on-one with Sam when the other children weren’t around to distract or startle him. And she wasn’t sure how to build that time into the school curriculum. It wouldn’t be prudent to ignore the other children’s needs because Sam required so much extra attention but she’d figure it out.

      Making her way back to the table where she’d been jotting down notes, she thought of a possible solution...and promptly bumped into someone.

      “Oof!”

      She looked up and blinked. “Mr. King.”

      He stared down at her with widened eyes, seeming just as surprised as she was. “Hallo, Miss Graber.”

      “Wh...what are you doing here?” she asked, thinking how nonsensical she sounded.

      He shifted his weight and she saw that he held a book in his hand. He quickly lowered his arm, shielding the text behind his thigh. From his nervous gesture, she thought he was trying to conceal it from her. But he didn’t know her very well. Reaching behind him, she took the book from his hand and read the title out loud.

       “The Silent Child.”

      His face flushed red as a sugar beet. Ah, he wasn’t as withdrawn from his son’s problem as he made it appear. In fact, it looked as though he was actually trying to do something to help Sam. And right then and there, Becca’s opinion of Jesse King improved just a tad. Up to now, she’d had little respect for the man but realized he wasn’t the uncaring, brutish father he appeared to be. But why did he have to be so difficult about it? Why did he have to hide his concern? It seemed as though he were fighting against himself. As though he didn’t want to care about Sam, yet he did. Very much.

      She met his gaze, noticing the irritated glint in his eyes. She could tell that he didn’t like meeting her here. She held the book out to him and he took it reluctantly.

      “It looks like you’re reading up on Sam’s problem.” She spoke the obvious.

      “Ja, I thought maybe...” He didn’t finish the sentence. “What are you doing here?” he asked instead.

      She held up several books on the same topic. “The same as you. Looking for ways to help Sam.”

      He snorted. “I doubt it’ll do any gut. I’ve already tried everything I can think of and Sam still won’t talk. He hasn’t said a single word in almost a year.”

      “I’m sorry.”

      He shrugged and looked away but not before she saw the pain written in his eyes. Her heart gave a painful squeeze. The poor little boy. And the poor man too! This couldn’t be easy on Jesse either.

      “But we have to try, don’t we?” she asked.

      He glanced at his son, who sat a short distance away at another table, poring over several children’s books. The boy’s lips were moving and Becca got the impression he was reading to himself. She’d seen him do this in school before but what it meant, she had no idea.

      “It appears that he can read,” she observed.

      “Ja, his mudder taught him. She...she used to read to all our kinder all the time. Sam can definitely read.”

      Hmm. Was that why Jesse seemed so against reading to Sam each night? Because it was something his wife had done before she died? Or was it simply because he was busy and thought reading to his son was a woman’s job? Well, it was time to teach him differently. Fathers could read to their kids just as well as mothers.

      “Are you planning to read to Sam each night, as we discussed?” she asked.

      “I... I don’t have a lot of extra time. By the time I finish my barn chores, Sam’s usually half-asleep. And I’ve been trying to make us some furniture in the evenings,” he hedged.

      Becca didn’t СКАЧАТЬ