“SLEEP, SLEEP, MY LITTLE ONE,” I sang, rocking my firstborn—the dearest infant boy I’d ever laid eyes on, all wrapped in the quilted coverlet Martie had made years ago. Baby Jerry . . .
I walked to the window, not far from the cradle Tobe had built, and watched the sky dimming, twinkling stars appearing. The Sangre de Cristo and San Juan Mountains looked even more majestic in the twilight, rock-solid reminders of God’s blessing—of getting us here safely five years ago, helping us learn to pipe water in to irrigate crops, and helping us to blend our lives with Amish of like faith and tradition already here.
It’s a joy that Ray and Martie and their family—Jesse, Josh, and their twin girls, Mary and Martha—live within walking distance of us, and not far from Tobe’s father and mother, too. We are a small yet growing family and circle of friends . . . old and new.
I’d missed Martie terribly those first two and a half years as I endured the wailing of springtime winds and snuggled near the coal heater stove with my very caring husband, holding my breath for each letter from home. I was skipping-happy when we heard the news that Ray was finally heading to Monte Vista with Martie and the children, ready to make the long, long journey to join us in this dusty, challenging world of vast cattle ranches and sheep farms, where jagged Blanca Peak rises high above the flat terrain.
Dat, Mamm, Lettie, and Mammi Flaud all came for sweet Faye’s wedding to Mark Mast the year after Tobe and I moved here. They stayed with us for ten blessed days, marveling at the growing Plain community here, till Dat got restless and decided it was time to get Mammi home again, none of them the worse for wear.
Lettie is also married now with a baby of her own, having wed the bishop’s eldest grandson. They are the busy beneficiaries of Jerry Glick’s former dairy farm. Tobe and I delighted in being able to revisit his childhood home when we returned home for a visit prior to our own little one’s birth six months ago. We spent hours walking all over the land, reliving our childhood fun. And we stopped by our footbridge, too, recalling Clint and Dottie’s love story, amazed and grateful for the way the Lord brings couples together.
Faye and I have become much closer since coming here. What a surprise it was when we discovered we were both expecting our babies around the same time! Her son, Mark David, is going to be a hefty boy, that’s for sure, having weighed in at nine pounds at birth.
As for my charity work, I still do occasional volunteering from time to time, though my reasons have surely changed, and I suspect as our baby son grows, I’ll cut back even more. No longer do I strive to fill an empty heart, or to earn favor—favor already so generously given. These days, I give of my time to share the gracious love of the Savior, who was patiently waiting for me all along. Tobe and I have even found a few things we can do side by side!
The peace of twilight folded over my precious baby and me. Turning, I placed him in his cozy cradle and stood there for a moment to make sure he was soundly sleeping.
As I walked toward the doorway, I spotted Tobe near. “I thank Gott for you every day, Mrs. Glick.” He moved toward me, then took my hand in his. “My forever love . . . and the wunnerbaar mother of our baby.” His eyes searched mine.
“I still cannot imagine havin’ missed out on this life with you,” I said in between his kisses.
Tobe chuckled as he put his arm around me and gently led me down the hall. “Did ya really think I was gonna let ya?”