Monday morning, after the blizzard ended, men who were able to came on foot and by horse and buggy. The community outpouring of love and compassion rocked Levi to his core, both at the hospital the previous evening and day and that morning. Abigail had thrived on the attention she received. She had insisted she be able to go visit Elsie, and Levi had allowed Noah to assist her in and out of the van that’d come to take them to the hospital Saturday evening.
Elsie arrived a couple of hours later with her daed and two grossdaadis bringing good news. Sammy had been discharged—with minor cuts—to his daadi’s care. Sam was still alive, in intensive care due to internal injuries. No word on Ryan, but Levi didn’t know him. He was Sam’s friend.
Elsie helped Abigail prepare sandwiches, pretzels, and plenty of cookies to keep the men well-fed.
The coffee flowed while the bishop preached a minisermon on the verse Noah had quoted about two being better than one. And looking around the room at the men working, talking, and laughing made Levi realize it was true. He would’ve been so much wiser and stronger if he hadn’t shut others out. He’d denied himself—and Abigail—the blessing of having friends, advice, and support. And he’d denied others the opportunity to be blessed by giving of their time, skills, and wisdom.
When Levi paused work for a short break to stretch his legs, he glanced outside at Abigail and Elsie putting the final touches on a family of snowmen. Four of them, maybe to represent the families they would become. Hopefully. Levi and Elsie and Abigail and Noah.
By the time evening fell, the trains and animals were finished, except for letting the paint dry, in time for them to be delivered—early—the next day. They also had the online orders completed and ready to be shipped.
By Gott’s grace they’d met Levi’s impossible deadline, and he learned that it was okay to lean on others.
The next day, Bishop Nathan gave Elsie and Levi a comprehensive marriage counseling based on 1 Corinthians 13.
* * *
Thursday morning Elsie sat on a bench sneaking peeks at Levi during the looong wedding sermon. Abigail sat in her wheelchair beside her, probably daydreaming of her own someday wedding.
Sam was somewhere in the crowd in his own temporary wheelchair while he recovered from the accident.
Finally the bishop made the man-and-wife pronouncement while George—who hadn’t broken any bones—wildly rang sleigh bells and shouted something about being a matchmaker, much to the amusement of the entire community and the embarrassment of his wife.
And then after the long day filled with meals, family, friends, and conversation, Elsie and Levi were—at last—alone. They’d arranged for Abigail to spend the night at Elsie’s house.
Levi pulled out a wrapped gift. “I started this two years ago, but I can’t think of a better wedding gift.” With a grin, he handed her the red-and-white package and sat on the bed, covered with her hope chest quilt, watching as she opened it.
Her fingers fumbled a bit with the tape. She removed the paper to reveal a hand-carved recipe box. “Oh, it’s beautiful.” Elsie opened it, and inside was an envelope of recipes. She recognized the handwriting and looked up with a pounding heart. “Your mamm’s? These were her prized recipes only shared with family?”
He nodded with heat in his eyes. Tears pricked hers.
“Danki. I couldn’t think of a better gift. I was afraid these got lost in the explosion.” She thumbed through them.
“They did, but she had copied them out as a wedding gift before, when we were getting serious.” Levi’s gaze was filled with something that made her want to snuggle him on the bed.
She put the recipe box down on the dresser and sat beside him. “I’ll treasure them always, but they pale in comparison to the gift I’ve waited for. You.”
A grin tilted his mouth. “You’re the only gift I really wanted.”
She giggled as she slid a bit closer. “Santa knew exactly what I wanted this Christmas.”
He chuckled and pulled her into his lap. “And me. An elf.”
And then he kissed her.