Free An Amish Family Christmas by Murray Pura Page A

that he’s proud of you—of how you’re standing by Luke, of the strength God has given you, and of the grace in your heart. Ja , he’s proud of you in a good way.” She returned to her pan of cinnamon buns, using a butter knife to spread frosting over their tops. “Proud. And in love. More in love than most husbands in our community.”
    Naomi’s face flamed a deeper red and cut at her skin with a stronger heat.
    “When did you say the bishop and ministers are dropping by to pray with Luke?” Rebecca asked to change the subject.
    “Oh.” She continued to stand in the doorway. “It will be after lunch.” She crossed the floor and sat at the kitchen table, still wearing her coat. “It’s not just to see Luke. They will talk to me about the cards and letters. Perhaps they’ll even wish to see Micah, to ask if he’s had a change of heart. Of course I could ask the same of them.”
    “Please don’t. I can’t have you under a bann too. It would be quite impossible if I were the only one who could speak in a house of four people. It would feel like a tomb.” She gave Naomi a cinnamon roll that was so warm the frosting had begun to melt down its sides. “Here. Perhaps this will sweeten your tongue so that you’ll only smile and nod when the bishop arrives.”
    Naomi picked away a strip of the roll and nibbled on it. “How many miracles is it you want God to perform for us?”
    “Why? Does his well ever run dry of grace?” She put a cinnamon roll on a plate and handed it to her. “Take this to your husband.”
    “My husband? All right.”
    Rebecca smiled. “It’s not an emergency, so no talking.”
    “ Ja, ja. Nicht redden. ”
    Micah wasn’t in the barn. She took the well-beaten path through the snow to the fenced pasture, where she soon spotted him pitching hay to the beef cattle, throwing it over the wooden rails. For a moment she stopped just to enjoy the smooth rhythm of his movements and his easy strength. Then she approached with the plate as if she were holding a whole cake in her hands. He didn’t notice her. She set it down in the snow a few feet from him, but he still didn’t turn to look.
    So what is it acceptable to do about cinnamon rolls in danger of freezing when your husband is under the bann ?
    “Hey!” she shouted at one of the steers that was being pushy. “ Kastrierten Bullen Geist! Wohnin du gehst! ”
    Micah snapped his head around. She coughed. He saw the plate with the cinnamon roll on it. She glanced up at the sun, which was making its way through a great white heap of cumulus clouds, turned without making eye contact, and began walking back to the farmhouse.
    “Hey!”
    She stopped and looked back.
    “ Nicht, die gut schmecken ?”
    He wasn’t talking to her, but to the steers as they ate the hay and he ate the roll.
    Doesn’t that taste good?
    She smiled and carried on to the house.
    When she closed the door behind her, Rebecca asked, “So did you find him?”
    “ Ja. ”
    “And you gave him the cinnamon bun?”
    “ Ja. ”
    “Without speaking to him?”
    “I didn’t speak to him.”
    “Truly?”
    Naomi hung her coat on a peg. “I spoke to the steers.”
    Rebecca put her hands on her hips. “ Vas ? What are you talking about?”
    Naomi smiled and shrugged. “Let’s make some lunch and then prepare for the meeting with the leadership.”

    Bishop Fischer and the ministers came in from the bright December sunshine and blazing snow with smiles and a spattering of laughter, immediately asking to see Luke. He was waiting for them, seated at the kitchen table, rising to his feet as they removed their coats and hats and entered the house. They took his hand, and he returned their handshakes weakly but, Naomi noticed, with a trace of warmth in his eyes. The bishop and Minister Yoder hugged him, all the while praising God in German, and Luke raised his arms high enough to put them around their lower backs.
    “Wonderful. Thank God.” The bishop gripped both of