The Amish Christmas Matchmaker

“What I mean is that perhaps Gotte has other plans for him. We can’t know.”

“Indeed.”

They were silent for a moment. Finally her mamm said, “Do you have some ideas about why Levi might be here?”

Annie picked at a fingernail. “Maybe he’s supposed to meet someone here.”

“Someone?”

“A woman, Mamm. Maybe he’s supposed to meet a woman, fall in lieb, settle down and start a family.” Once she said it out loud, the plan took on a new dimension. What she was suggesting was possible. It was almost as if she were doing a charitable thing for him. “I spoke with Levi yesterday after the wedding, and he’s agreed to allow me to set him up on a few dates.”

“That’s kind of you.”

“I guess, but just think, Mamm...if he falls in lieb, then he might forget this ridiculous obsession with Texas.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“He might decide he wants to stay here in Goshen.”

“I suppose that’s possible.”

“And if he stays, well, we both know that Dat’s enthusiasm for moving will melt away.”

Instead of arguing with her, which was what Annie had suspected, her mamm smiled over the rim of her mug. “Who did you have in mind to set him up with?”

“Martha Weaver.”

“Have you spoken to Martha about this?”

“Nein. I was hoping to do so after church service.”

Her mamm drained her coffee cup, stood and pushed her chair back in under the table. Walking around behind Annie, she kissed her on top of the head, causing Annie to feel four years old again.

She thought that her mother would reprimand her, tell her to mind her own business, caution her about intervening in other people’s lives. She didn’t. Instead, she simply walked to the refrigerator, pulled out what she planned to cook for breakfast and began cracking eggs into a bowl—leaving Annie to wonder what she wasn’t saying. If she were honest with herself, some doubts remained in her mind about this new plan. Perhaps she was foolish to think that playing matchmaker could solve her problem.

It was well after lunch before Annie had a chance to speak with Martha. She’d been friends with Martha since their school days. Though Martha was two years younger, she’d always seemed to be around Annie’s age, perhaps because she’d stepped into the role of helping with her younger siblings. Annie found her watching over her disabled brother as well as a group of the younger children who were playing in a pile of leaves in the circle of three giant maple trees. The service had been held at the Bontragers’ place. The old couple had raised a family of twelve in Goshen. All their children—all twelve of them—had moved to Maine, and the small For Sale sign in the front yard reminded Annie that they would be joining them soon. The Bontragers had been around as long as Annie could remember.

Why would they move?

Why did things have to change?

Plainly they were happy here.

She shook away the questions and reminded herself to focus on her mission.

Walking over to Martha, she held out her arms to accept one of the Miller babies that her friend was holding. “Joseph or Jeremiah?”

The twins were six months old, but she still couldn’t tell the difference between them.

“Joseph. You can tell because he has a little strawberry mark on the back of his neck.”

Annie snuggled the baby against her neck and sat down at the picnic table that had been positioned under the trees. “Where’s the older bruder?”

“Stephen has a little cold, so Kathy took him inside to see if he’d nap. I was already watching over the others, so two more didn’t seem like a problem.”

There were six children of various ages running around, some falling in the leaves, some sitting on the ground and crushing the brittle red, yellow and orange leaves in their fists. Off to the side sat Martha’s brother.

Annie had known Thomas all of her life. She didn’t see him as disabled so much as she saw her best friend’s twin brother. Sometimes, though, when they were in town shopping or splurging on ice cream, she’d notice the way strangers looked at Thomas. In those moments she’d have a tiny inkling of what it was like for Martha and why she was so fiercely protective of him.

Tommy, or Big Tom as he liked to be called, had a flat nose and small ears. He had been diagnosed with Down syndrome the day after his birth. At twenty-two, his body had grown to that of a man, but he still acted like a child in many ways.

Amish families have the highest incidence of twins of any demographic group—a teacher had mentioned that in class one day and Annie had looked around the room to spot no less than six pairs of twins. Annie understood that the bond between twins was strong, but the bond between Martha and Thomas exceeded even that. It was as if they were tethered together by some invisible line—a spiritual cord stronger than any rope made by man.

Martha seemed content to watch the children and her brother. She was mature for her age and bore an air of complete contentment. She wore glasses—blue frames she’d found on sale at the local optometrist office—had beautiful white-blond hair and blue eyes.

Those eyes were now studying her, brows slightly arched, a smile playing on her lips.

Annie jumped up, still snuggling baby Joseph and pacing back and forth in front of Martha. Another glance at her friend confirmed that she’d have a higher chance of success if she got straight to the point.

“Levi Lapp would like to step out with you.”

Martha’s mouth fell open, and she looked over her shoulder as if Annie might be talking to someone else.

“How do you know Levi?” Martha asked. “He just moved here...”

Annie blushed. “He was at our house last week, talking to my dat about Texas.”

A toddler ran over to Martha and held up his arms. She shifted Jeremiah to her left arm and pulled the toddler into her lap. “Why would Levi Lapp want to step out with me?”

“Why wouldn’t he? You’re a pleasant person, Martha, and very eligible. Let’s not forget that.”

“I rarely do.”

“You’re pretty, and you have a good head on your shoulders.”

“He couldn’t possibly know what kind of head I have on my shoulders. So stop trying to butter me up and just tell me what’s really going on.”

Annie groaned. She should have known Martha wouldn’t make this easy.

“He wants to move to Texas.”

“Why do you care about that?”

“He wants to start a community there, and he’s targeting our community to pull families from.”

“Targeting?”

“Whatever.” She waved away Martha’s concern about her word choice. “He’s been bending my dat’s ear, and now Dat is stirred up.”