of us wants this. You have time before Christmas to change your behavior and convince them to let you stay. You will return the items you’ve taken from Jedidiah. He knows that you sold one of the bags of potatoes you took. You must give the money you received for them to Jedidiah. You will have to catch up on all your missed schoolwork and behave politely to Jedidiah and to the bishop. We will pray that your improvement is enough to convince Bishop and Onkel Harvey to let you remain with us.”
Ivan glared at her. “Jedidiah Zook is a creep. He’s never nice to me, so why should I be nice to him?”
Bethany planted her hands on her hips. “That attitude is exactly what got you into this mess.”
Jenny wrapped her arms around her brother’s waist. “I don’t want you to go away. I’ll tell the bishop you’ll be good.”
“They don’t care what we think because we’re just kids and we don’t count.”
“That’s enough, Ivan. You and I will go now to speak to Jedidiah and return his belongings this evening.”
“I can’t.”
“What do you mean that you can’t?”
He shrugged. “I don’t have the stuff or the money anymore. I gave it away.”
“Who did you give it to?” Bethany asked.
“I don’t have to tell you.” He pushed Jenny away and rushed through the house and out the back door. Bethany followed, shouting after him, but he ran into the woods at the back of the property and disappeared from her view.
Jenny began crying. Bethany picked her up to console her. Jenny buried her face in the curve of Bethany’s neck. “You can’t send him away. You can’t. Do something, sister.”
“I will try, Jenny. I promise I will try.”
Ivan returned an hour later. Not knowing what else to do, Bethany sent him to bed without supper. Jenny barely touched her meal. Bethany didn’t have an appetite, either. She wrote out a check to Jedidiah for the value of the stolen items and put it in an envelope with a brief letter of apology. She couldn’t face him in person.
After both children were in bed, Bethany stood in front of the door to her grandfather’s workshop. He wouldn’t be in there but she hoped that she could draw comfort from the things he loved. She pushed open the door.
Moonlight reflecting off the snow outside cast a large rectangle of light through the window. It fell across his desk and empty chair. She walked to the chair and laid her hands on the back of it. The wood was cold beneath her fingers. She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. The smell of the oils he used, the old leather chair and the cleaning rag that was still lying on the desk brought his beloved face into sharp focus. Tears slipped from beneath her closed eyelids and ran down her cheeks. She wiped them away with both hands.
“I miss you, Daadi. We all miss you. I know you are happy with our Lord in heaven and with Mammi and Mamm. That gives me comfort, but I still miss you.” Her voice sounded odd in the empty room.
Opening her eyes, she sat in his chair and lit the lamp. The pieces of a watch lay on the white felt-covered board he worked on. His tiny screwdrivers and tools were lined up neatly in their case. Everything was just as it had been the last time he sat in this chair. The cleaning rag was the only thing out of place. She picked it up to return it to the proper drawer and saw an envelope lying beneath it. It was unopened. The name on the return address caught her attention. It was from Michael Shetler of Sugarcreek, Ohio.
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