Anna's Gift

Anna's Gift
Emma Miller

Surprise ProposalIn Amish Country No one in Seven Poplars, Delaware, expects Anna Yoder ever to marry. Among her six pretty, petite sisters, big and plain Anna feels like a plow horse. But then Samuel Mast, the handsome widowed father she has secretly loved for years, asks if he can court her.Surely Anna has misheard—Samuel has his pick of lovely brides! She’s convinced he seeks a wife only as a mother for his five children. Or could a man like Samuel actually have a very romantic reason for wanting Anna by his side forever?Hannah’s Daughters: Seeking love, family and faith in Amish country.

“It’s really you I want to talk to,” Samuel said.

“Me?” Anna’s mouth gaped open and she snapped it shut. Her stomach turned over. “Something I can do for you?”

“Ya. I want …”

Anna shifted her weight and the wooden step under her left foot creaked.

“If you would …” He took a deep breath and straightened his broad shoulders.

Staring at him, Anna couldn’t stop the fluttering in the pit of her stomach. “Ya?” she coaxed. “You want …”

“I want to court you, Anna,” Samuel blurted out. “I want that you should give me the honor to become my wife.”

Anna froze, unable to exhale. She blinked as black spots raced behind her eyes. Abruptly, she felt her hands go numb. Her knees went weak and the ladder began to sway. There was an ominous crack of wood, the step broke, and paint, ladder and Anna went flying.

Dear Reader,

Welcome again to Seven Poplars, Delaware, home of the Old Order Amish family, the Yoders, and their friends and family. Anna’s story is particularly dear to me because, unlike her sisters, she isn’t beautiful by contemporary standards, not even in the Amish community. But beauty, we know, is in the eye of the beholder. Widower Samuel Mast has always seen Anna for her beauty within, and is eager to make her his wife. Anna has secretly adored Samuel and his children for years. The question is, can Anna, can any of us, truly love another if we do not love ourselves?

I hope you’ll enjoy reading Anna’s story as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. As I came to know and love Anna Yoder, I was amazed by the wisdom and quiet and abiding faith in God that she displayed. I think you’ll agree that plump Anna, the plain sister, is a special young woman.

Please come back and join me for Leah Yoder’s story. After a year in Ohio, caring for her aging grandmother, she’s eager to be a part of Seven Poplars again. Then she meets Daniel Brown and her world turns topsy-turvy. Does she belong in Delaware with her family, or half a world away, serving God as a Mennonite missionary’s wife? And if she follows her heart and chooses Daniel, will it tear her traditional family apart?

Wishing you peace and joy, Emma Miller

About the Author

EMMA MILLER lives quietly in her old farmhouse in rural Delaware amid fertile fields and lush woodlands. Fortunate enough to be born into a family of strong faith, she grew up on a dairy farm, surrounded by loving parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. Emma was educated in local schools, and once taught in an Amish schoolhouse much like the one at Seven Poplars. When she’s not caring for her large family, reading and writing are her favorite pastimes.

Anna’s Gift

Emma Miller

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

For Mildred,

for the delight her beauty brought to my world.

Let your beauty not be external … but the inner person of the heart, the lasting beauty of a gentle and tranquil spirit, which is precious in God’s sight.

—1 Peter 3:3–4

Chapter One

Kent County, Delaware … Winter

Anna Yoder carried an open can of robin’s egg-blue paint carefully through the big farmhouse kitchen, down the hall and into the bedroom across from her mother’s room. Her sister, Susanna, trailed two steps behind, a paintbrush in each hand.

“I want to paint,” Susanna proclaimed for the fourth time. “I can paint good. Can I paint, Anna? Can I?”

Anna glanced over her shoulder at her younger sister, and nodded patiently. “Yes, you can paint. But not right now. I’m cutting in and it’s tricky not getting paint on the floor or the ceiling. You can help with the rolling later.”

“Ya!” Susanna agreed, and her round face lit up in a huge smile as she bounced from one bare foot to the other and waved the paintbrushes in the air. “I’m the goodest painter!”

Anna chuckled. “I’m sure you are the best painter.”

Susanna was nothing, if not enthusiastic. Of her six sisters, Susanna was the dearest and the one toward which Anna felt most protective. Sweet, funny Susanna was the baby of the family and had been born with Down syndrome. Their Dat had always called her one of God’s special children; at eighteen, Susanna still possessed the innocence of a girl of nine or ten.

Fortunately, for all the tasks that came hard to Susanna, such as reading, sewing or cooking, the Lord had blessed her with a bottomless well of special gifts. Susanna could soothe a crying baby better than any of them; she always knew when it was going to rain, and she had a rare ability to see through the complications of life to find the simple and shining truth. And sometimes, when things weren’t going well, when the cow had gone dry or the garden was withering for lack of rain, Susanna could fill the house with laughter and remind them all that there was always hope in God’s great plan.

Still, keeping track of Susanna and running the household was a big responsibility, one that Anna felt doubly, with Mam off to Ohio to bring Anna’s grandmother, great aunt and sisters, Rebecca and Leah, home. Susanna and Anna would be on their own for several days. Their sister Ruth and her husband, Eli, who lived just across the field, had gone to a wedding in Pennsylvania. Irwin, the boy who lived with them, had accompanied their sister Miriam and her husband, Charley, to an auction in Virginia. Not that Anna didn’t have help. Eli’s cousin was pitching in with the milking and the outside chores, but Anna still had a lot to do. And not a lot of time to get it all done.

Anna had promised Mam to have the house spic-and-span when she returned home, and she took the responsibility seriously. Having both Miriam and Ruth marry and move out in November had been a big change, but bringing Grossmama and Aunt Jezebel into the house would be an even bigger change. Grossmama was no longer able to live on her own. Anna understood that, and she knew why her mother felt responsible for Dat’s aging mother, especially now that he was gone. The trouble was, Grossmama and Mam had never gotten along, and with the onset of Alzheimer’s, Anna doubted that the situation would improve. Luckily, everyone adored Grossmama’s younger sister, Jezebel; unlike Grossmama, Aunt Jezebel was easygoing and would fit smoothly into the household.

“We’re paintin’ because Grossmama’s coming,” Susanna chirped. Her speech wasn’t always perfect, but her family understood every word she said. “She baked me a gingerbread man.”

“Ya,” Anna agreed. “She did.” Susanna was the one person in the household who her grandmother never found fault with, and that was a good thing. If Grossmama could see how precious Susanna was, she couldn’t be that bad, could she?

Once, when she was visiting years ago, Grossmama had spent the afternoon baking cookies and had made Susanna a gingerbread man with raisin eyes, a cranberry nose and a marshmallow beard. Susanna had never forgotten, and whenever their grandmother was mentioned, Susanna reminded them of the gingerbread treat.

Grossmama had fallen on the stairs at her house the previous year, fracturing a hip, so Mam hadn’t wanted her climbing the steps to a second-floor bedroom here. Instead, they’d decided to move Anna and Susanna upstairs to join Leah and Rebecca in the dormitory-style chamber over the kitchen. Grossmama and Aunt Jezebel could share this large downstairs room just a few feet away from the bathroom.

It was a lovely room, with tall windows and plenty of room for two beds, a chest of drawers and a rocking chair. Anna knew that Grossmama and Aunt Jezebel would be comfortable here … except for the color. Anna couldn’t remember which of her sisters had chosen the original color for the walls, but Grossmama hated it. She’d made a fuss when Mam had written to explain the new arrangements. Grossmama said that she could never sleep one night in a bed surrounded by fancy “English” walls.

By saying “English,” Anna understood that her grandmother meant “not Plain.” To Grossmama, white was properly Plain; blue was Plain. Since the ceiling, the window trim, the doors and the fireplace mantel were white, blue was the color in Anna’s paint can. Actually, Anna didn’t see anything improper about the color the room was now. The muted purple was closer to lavender, and she had a lavender dress and cape that she really loved. But once Grossmama set her mind on a thing or against it, there was no changing it.

Standing in the bedroom now, staring at the walls, Anna wished Ruth was there. Ruth was a good painter. Anna prided herself on her skill at cooking, perhaps more than she should have, but she knew that her painting ability was sketchy at best. But, since the choice was between Susanna or her, Anna knew who had to paint the room.

Of course, she’d meant to get started sooner, but the week had gotten away from her. Susanna had a dentist appointment on Monday, which took all afternoon by the time they had to wait for the driver. On Tuesday, there had been extra eggs, which needed to go to Spence’s Auction and Bazaar. Normally, they didn’t go to Spence’s in the winter months, but Aunt Martha and Dorcas had opened a baked-goods stand. Anna had taken the opportunity to leave Susanna with their oldest sister, Johanna, so that she could go with Aunt Martha to sell her eggs and jams.

Now it was Wednesday. After Mam left at dawn, Anna and Susanna had spent the morning scrubbing, dusting, polishing and setting her yeast dough to rise. Now there were no more excuses. Anna had to start painting if she wanted to be finished on time. Because they were alone, Anna wore her oldest dress, the one with the blackberry stains, and had covered her hair—not with a proper white kapp, but with a blue scarf that Irwin’s terrier had chewed holes in.

Knowing that Susanna would be certain to lean against a freshly painted wall, Anna had made sure that Susanna’s clothing was equally worn. That way, if the dresses were ruined it wouldn’t be a waste. Anna’s final precaution was to remove her shoes and stockings and ask Susanna to do the same. Paint would scrub off bare feet. Black stockings and sneakers wouldn’t be so lucky.

Gingerly setting the can on the little shelf on the ladder, Anna climbed the rickety rungs, dipped her brush in the can and began to carefully paint along the wall, just below the ceiling. She’d barely gone two feet when Susanna announced that she was hungry. “Wait a little,” Anna coaxed. “It’s still early. When I get as far as the window, we’ll have some lunch.”

“But, Anna, I’m hungry now.”

“All right. Go and fix yourself a honey biscuit.”

“‘Fff … thirsty, too,” she said, struggling to pronounce the word properly.

“Milk or tea. You don’t need my help.”