“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
MILLS & BOON
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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