On Christmas Eve morning, Wendy helped Marcy and Olivia trim the tree. Wendy considered their finished result the ugliest tree she’d ever seen. Electric candles were hooked to the branches. They pinned individual puffs of popped corn to the end of the branches with straight pins because it was a German custom brought by the first Kesslers to Ohio. They wrapped yards of well-worn garland around the tree. Some ornaments had been made by Evan and his sisters out of clothespins and bits of fabric. They even hung some fragile paper ornaments made by Evan’s grandmother.
In the family room, under Karl’s watchful eye, Evan set up the smaller pine tree, which they adorned with strings of popcorn, pretzels and homemade cookies. After the tree was decorated, Marcy and Olivia placed the family’s gifts beneath it—not even as many as was usually under the tree for Wendy and her mother. Other decorations collected by the family for years were placed in the central hallway, the parlor, the living room and the dining room.
“If you could make the stollen, it would be a big help to me,” Hilda said to Wendy.
“I don’t mind helping, but what is stollen? A dessert, meat dish, vegetable or what?”
“It’s bread,” Hilda told her. “A sweet bread, which can be used for dessert, or eaten with the main meal. We serve it for breakfast on Christmas morning.”
Hilda handed Wendy a well-worn recipe card and took a large breadboard from a cabinet, putting it on the island in the middle of the kitchen. “You work here,” she said. “This process takes several hours.”
After reading the recipe over and over, and following Hilda’s instructions, Wendy awkwardly measured out the dry ingredients and the spices, prepared the yeast and chopped raisins, currants and mixed candied fruits before she started mixing the batter. An hour later, Wendy had flour all over the countertop, on the floor, in her hair, on her face and all over her clothes, but she had the stollen dough ready to put in a bowl. With a sigh, she greased a bowl with shortening, put the dough inside and covered the bowl with a dish towel. She picked up the bowl and carried it to another cabinet near the stove where it would, hopefully, rise during the next two hours.
Wendy turned to survey the countertop and its collection of dirty cups, spoons and other utensils with displeasure. How could she possibly have used so many things to make a batch of bread that would yield only three loaves? By the time Wendy had washed all of the items she’d used, cleaned the flour off of the counter and floor, she was exhausted. And she wasn’t even finished yet. Why would anyone go to so much work to make three loaves of bread when they could go to a deli and buy something equally as good?
I’ll bet Kessler ancestors would have jumped at the chance to buy bread if it had been available to them, Wendy thought sourly.
Her temperament wasn’t improved when Evan came in before she had an opportunity to tidy herself up.
He wiped her face with his handkerchief and kissed her cheek. “I couldn’t find a clean place for my kiss,” he said, his eyes alight with pleasure to see her participating in family customs.
She jerked away from him angrily. “I still have round two to go on my culinary work, so I can’t see any reason to put on clean clothes.”
“Aw, Wendy,” he said contritely. “I was just joking.”
“Well, I’m not in the mood for jokes.” She turned from him and prepared the glaze she would need to spread on the finished product.
At the end of five hours, Wendy was not displeased with the looks of the bread. And since it was also traditional to eat some of the bread while it was still warm, Hilda asked Wendy to slice one loaf and give a portion to the family for an afternoon snack. The blend of cardamom and fruit in the tender warm buttered slice of bread was delicious, and Karl said, “You’ve…got the touch…for baking bread.”
Wendy knew it was tasty, but despite his praise, she thought her time could have been put to better use than to have spent most of the day working on three loaves of bread.
While Wendy had been baking bread, Hilda had prepared the traditional Christmas Eve dinner of fresh sausage, baked apples and potatoes, a red cabbage salad and German plum cake for dessert. By the time the food was prepared, Marcy and Olivia had returned from delivering gift packages to their elderly neighbors.
When they sat down for dinner, Wendy had her first sense of belonging. She wondered if this was because she’d spent most of the day helping Hilda with the cooking. Evan put Karl in his wheelchair and brought him to the table. Karl asked the blessing on the food in his halting voice.
“God, we believe that one of your greatest blessings…is the gift of family. When you sent…the Lord Jesus to earth, You…placed Him in an earthly family. We believe…His early days at Nazareth, when…He was surrounded by loving family members, helped…prepare Him for the ministry You’d sent him to do. God, I thank You for…my family, the ones here at my table tonight, but…also those who’ve gone before me, and those yet to come. We pray…that Your Son will continue to live in…the hearts of this family. Thank You for…the food and the hands who prepared it. Amen.”
After dinner, Evan insisted on putting away the leftover food, and he put the pans and dishes in the dishwasher. He wanted a little time to contemplate Wendy’s reactions to the way they observed Christmas. He’d always thought that Wendy had missed so much because she didn’t have a big family, and he had believed that she would eagerly embrace his family’s traditions. Considering her quietness and her solemn face during dinner, he didn’t think she had.
After dinner, they opened the gifts under the tree in the family room. Wendy was touched that Hilda and Karl had included her in the gift-giving. They’d bought watches for Olivia and Marcy, a new cell phone for Evan and a set of matching earrings and bracelet for Wendy.
Some of the gifts were hilarious. Marcy’s gift to Wendy was a picture of Evan on his first birthday, wearing only a diaper. Wendy apologized that she hadn’t had time to make anything for them, but Marcy and Olivia seemed pleased with their earrings.
Wendy’s fingers trembled as she opened Evan’s gift, surprised to find an open-face antique silver chatelaine watch on a long chain nestled in a velvet-lined box. She lifted questioning, tearful eyes to Evan.
“It belonged to Grandmother Kessler,” he said softly. “She willed it to me. I remember my grandmother wearing the watch. In the back of the case, there’s a picture of me on my tenth birthday.”
Overcome with a sudden comprehension of how much Evan loved her and how unworthy she felt to receive his love, Wendy leaned toward him. Ignoring his family, he pulled her into a tight embrace, kissing her tenderly. She withdrew from his arms, flushed and embarrassed.
“Thank you” was all she could say.
Wendy had debated long over a gift for Evan, but she’d finally written on a sheet of paper. “I promise to read a chapter in the Bible every day during the coming year.”
The warmth in his eyes when he opened the envelope convinced her that she couldn’t have chosen a better gift. They finished opening their gifts by ten o’clock. Gavin Kessler arrived soon afterward to stay with Karl, so Hilda could attend the Christmas Eve service.
Marcy drove her mother and Olivia to the church, but since Evan’s grandparents had gone to the service in a horse-drawn sleigh, Evan wanted to take Wendy in the same manner. As he hitched a fast-stepping horse to the sleigh, he wondered if he should have skipped this traditional event, since Wendy apparently wasn’t overly impressed by what Kesslers of the past had done.
He helped Wendy into the sled and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. He sat beside her and lifted the reins. They slipped out of the driveway at a rapid pace, because the horse was eager to go, but Evan restrained him. He hadn’t driven the sleigh for years, and he wanted to get the feel of the rig. If the sleigh turned over, they could be badly hurt.
By the time they reached the secondary road leading to the church, their shoulders were covered with soft snowflakes. When they passed a neighbor’s house, a light from the front porch shone on their faces. Glancing at Wendy, Evan saw that a faint light glowed in the depths of her dark eyes. Confident of his skill in driving the sleigh, Evan clicked the reins and the horse picked up speed. As the sleigh moved smoothly and quickly over the packed snow, Wendy squealed in delight.
“Hey, this is fun! Do you do this every year?”
“No. Most Christmases we don’t have any snow.”
“Then I’m lucky to have been here when it snowed.”
That comment encouraged Evan, and his heart was lighter as he guided the horse into the parking lot of the church. It took a while for him to find a place among the automobiles to park the sleigh and tie the horse, which he covered with a blanket before they went inside.
It had been four years since Wendy had attended a church service, and that had been at a large church in Miami where her grandfather was the pastor, with a seating capacity of one thousand. Evan’s church was a small building, and it probably didn’t hold more than a hundred people, but every seat seemed full. A soloist’s presentation of “Silent Night” greeted Evan and Wendy as their eyes adjusted to the dim light. Electricity hadn’t been restored to the church as yet, so by candlelight they made their way up the aisle to where his family had saved a seat for them.
When the congregation stood to sing the opening carol, “Joy to the World,” Evan and Wendy shared a hymnal. Wendy had heard the song often on television, but she wasn’t accustomed to congregational singing, so she listened. She was amazed at the beauty of the music as the worshipers sang fervently, “‘Joy to the world, the Lord is come; let earth receive her King.”’
An ensemble featuring a violin, a piano and a guitar played “O Little Town of Bethlehem.” During this musical selection, Wendy recalled some of the words. “No ear may hear His coming, but, in this world of sin, where meek souls will receive Him still the dear Christ enters in.”
One summer when she’d attended Vacation Bible School during a visit to her grandparents’, all of the children were encouraged to memorize the sixteenth verse of the third chapter in the book of John. She had learned the verse, but had rarely thought of it since. Surprisingly, she hadn’t forgotten the words. “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”
Wendy imagined herself back in that church, hearing the minister as he’d given the invitation on the closing day of Bible school that year. Her heart had been touched, and she wanted to go forward and receive Jesus as her Savior. She’d closed her ears and her heart, knowing that Emmalee would be displeased because she had accepted her grandparents’ beliefs rather than following her anti-church attitude.
But in this quiet place, with Evan holding her hand, she did what she’d wanted to do years ago. Her lips moved slightly as she quietly confirmed, “Lord Jesus, come into my heart.” Wendy’s pulse quickened, and she sensed a new spirit within her heart because she’d finally chosen God’s way instead of her own.
After the sermon, the pastor extended an invitation for all believers to come to the altar to receive communion. Evan had decided that he would stay in the seat with Wendy, rather than to embarrass her and make her feel isolated. He stood so his mother and sisters could step into the aisle and join the line of people. Wendy stood, too. Hilda and her two daughters started up the aisle. With a smile over her shoulder at Evan, Wendy followed them.
“Hallelujah!” Evan whispered, perceiving he was nearer the culmination of his dreams than he’d ever been before. Kneeling with the others, Wendy accepted a piece of bread from the hand of the minister’s female assistant, ate it and took a cup of juice from the tray the minister held out to her.
Her heart filled to overflowing with praise and joy. Not only was Evan offering her a gift of his family, tonight she’d received another gift that had made her a part of the family of God.
When all the people had been served, the minister encouraged his parishioners to greet each other as they left the building. The ensemble pealed out the sounds of “Go tell it on the mountain that Jesus Christ is born,” while the worshipers shook hands, hugged and rejoiced. Evan swept Wendy into his arms and whispered in her ear, “I love you.”
The bell in the steeple was ringing, its mellow tones resounding through the hills when Evan and Wendy exited the church, holding hands. Evan helped Wendy into the sleigh, tucked the robe around her and hitched the horse to the sleigh. He sat beside her and locked her in a tight embrace.
“Evan, I can’t explain what happened tonight, but I feel like a different person.”
“You’ll never be the same again. You’ve joined the greatest family on earth—the family of God.”
“I’m kinda afraid, though,” she said as he released her. “I feel a whole new life beckoning to me, and I don’t have a map to guide my way.”
“The Bible will be your guide into this new life. And I’m going to be right beside you, giving you any help you need.” His kiss was slow and gentle, but Wendy knew that his lips sealed the promise he’d made.