Her mother’s gentle smile and the tender caress of her hand on her forehead took her right back to her childhood. One night, when she was about ten, Rebekah had awakened in a cold sweat. She was freezing, she was sweating, and her throat felt as though it was on fire. She’d tried to call out, but the words could not pass her swollen throat.
So, she lay there, weak and whimpering, until the door opened and light from the hallway flooded in.
“My darling girl,” Elnora had exclaimed. “Are you oll recht?”
Rebekah could not answer. Only squeaks could pass her lips. She pointed to her throat as tears born of fear and pain ran down her cheeks.
“Oh no,” Elnora said. She brushed her hand across Rebekah’s forehead. “You are burning up with fever. I will be back. Mater will take care of you.”
Her mother’s reassuring presence had gotten Rebekah through her first terrible sickness, which until that time had been the scariest night of her life. Even as she lay there in her bed, moments before so terrified and in pain, her mother’s presence and touch had been enough to reassure her that everything would pass, and she would soon feel better.
Elnora had returned in only a few moments, with an icy rag in her hand along with a steaming cup of tea. She placed the icy rag on Rebekah’s forehead. “This will bring your fever down.”
She sat on the end of the bed and stirred the cup. “This is what my mater gave to me when I was sick. I will make it for you several times a day until you feel better. We need to start drinking it now. Sit up a bit, my love.”
Rebekah still remembered the spicy taste of the tea Elnora made for her. Years later, Elnora gave her the recipe for that enchanted tea that had soothed a childhood filled with sore throats. Apple cider vinegar and honey in hot tea. Sweet and simple.
She trusted her mother then, and she needed to trust her mother now.
Rebekah sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. “I smashed the cradle fater made for Lil’ Bit.”
Elnora’s hand flew to her mouth, and she turned away with a gasp.
She does not want me to see the disappointment on her face.
The toast was done, so Elnora slowly retrieved it from the oven in silence.
Rebekah did not dare speak. She had already broken enough hearts with her words and actions, but the worst of all may prove to be breaking those of her parents. Her mother had never turned away from her when she needed her before. Now, they were in uncharted territory. The familiar lump rose into her throat and threatened to choke her, but she did not dare cough.
Elnora seemed to move in slow motion before finally speaking again. “You know Rebekah,” she started. Her voice was low and crackly, as though she was fighting back tears. “Your dat worked so hard to construct that for you.”
Sorrow. My mother is speaking through sorrow.
“Ja, mater.” Rebekah’s heart rent in her chest as Elnora prepared them a snack that Rebekah did not deserve to partake in.
Elnora placed the toast on a plate and sat it in the middle of the table. “Would you get the butter off the counter, please? And a knife?”
Rebekah silently did as she was asked. She sat the items next to the aromatic toast.
Once Rebekah sat down, Elnora did the same before continuing. “He was up half the night for days on end, sick and exhausted, all so you could have something meaningful and nice for Lil’ Bit. Something to hand down, for generations to come.”
Regret curdled within Rebekah like sour milk on a hot summer day. Her face puckered as she tried to hold in the emotion. She deserved to hear these words from Elnora, and she deserved each and every feeling that came of it, as well. “I know. What I did was terrible. Unforgivable.”
Elnora picked up a slice of toast and scooped out some butter. She buttered the toast in long, even strokes. “Terrible, yes. Unforgivable, no.” She handed the slice to Rebekah. “You regret the anger already, so words from me are apt to make that feeling worse, which is not my intention.”
Rebekah covered her face with one hand and balanced the toast in the other. “I am so ashamed, Mater. Ashamed and regretful. Even more so since I could not bring myself to confess this to Fater.”
Elnora buttered a second slice of toast for herself. “Your confession would have only brought hurt to a sick man. You were right to keep quiet.”
“When I calmed down, right after I promised myself that I would never lose my temper again in such a manner, I went to find where Joseph put the bits of the cradle so that I could fix it myself. But it was gone.” She dropped her voice low. “Gone along with Joseph.”
“He left?” Elnora raised her eyebrows. “Joseph?”
Rebekah nodded. “He said he was leaving for the night or longer. He took the cradle with him.”
Elnora looked down at the bopplin. “As sweet and precious these little gifts from Gotte are, they can be awfully trying to a young couple the first time around. We might even say or do things we do not mean.”
“Not you, Mater.”
“Oh, ja.” Elnora raised her toast to her lips. “Even me.” Finally, she rewarded herself with a bite. She closed her eyes and groaned. “Yum.”
Rebekah took a bite of her bread and studied the wood grain of the table. Normally, her mother’s treats tasted delicious, but the bread today felt dry on her regretful tongue. She managed to chew the bite and swallow roughly. “What did you do?”
“Do?”
“Ja. Things we regret?”
“Oh, ja.” Elnora’s eyes misted. “It was when we first found you. I had been praying, asking Gotte for a child of my own for many months. Yet I had still not become pregnant. When we found you…” She looked down at Lil’ Bit. “It was a gift that we were there to save you. And I knew that.”
“Yes, it was.”
“Samuel was not so quick to believe that Gotte had answered my prayer. He said it was unfair to keep you from your kind, from any family you might have. He felt for them, that we could not take away something from them that would be so wonderful gute and precious. He thought that would be us being selfish and taking what we wanted from people who had not intended to give to us.”
Her mother’s words rang with perfect sense in her ears as she heard the story of her father not wanting her for the first time.
“So, once we settled here, Samuel went to find your family. He did not know about Peter, he did not know that the only surviving family you had was another child, or he would have adopted him, too.”
Rebekah dared another bite of bread. It went down much easier than the bite before.
“He discovered you had nobody else in the world, or so we thought at the time. And the Englischer world pointed him to a place where all helpless children go when they have nobody to take care of them. It was a place called an orphanage.”
Orphanage. Peter’s stories of his time spent in an orphanage made the little hairs on her neck stand on end.
“Orphanages and orphan trains, where they put the babies and children onto a train and sent them west…” Elnora’s voice cracked, and her hand began to shake. She shook her head and gathered her wits. “So, when Samuel learned this, he came home, and without telling me anything, he snatched you out of your cradle and carried you outside. All of the other families knew what was going on, so we all figured that he had come to get you and take you to your new home.”
“I was powerless to stop him. I just followed and listened.” Elnora stared past her, as though she was staring into a past that only she could see. “He said he wanted the town to meet his dochder, Rebekah, and no child of his was unwanted or unloved, and this child would grow up with parents who loved her in a community where she was celebrated.”
Rebekah nodded. “So, what did you do that was…”
Elnora shook her head and held up a finger to quiet her. “That night, when it was just us, I talked to Samuel. I told him that even before he made his announcement, you were my dochder. He did not understand my meaning, so I continued. I told him that whether he liked it or not, I was raising you as my child. Even if I had to do it alone, as a shunned woman.”
Rebekah’s mouth fell open. She remembered at once that she was eating and closed it again. “Mater, I had no idea.”
“Nobody does, besides Samuel and me. Until now.” Elnora took another bite. When she was finished with her toast, she continued. “We have never spoken of it again, and I would be grateful if you did not, either.”
“I will keep that for myself.” Rebekah felt very loved. “Thank you for trusting me with that story.”
“You see, Rebekah,” Elnora said, “I understand more than you might think.”
