Read Online A Quilt for Jenna by Patrick E. Craig - Free Book Online
Authors: Patrick E. Craig
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after Jenna was born. Seems like they was always laughinâ, and they was real close. I guess thatâs why they was so friendly to meâhappiness just spilled out of them.
Just then a gust of wind buffeted Henry and brought him out of his reverie. The snow was falling harder now, and he stopped and looked ahead. He could barely see six feet ahead of him. He pounded his arms against his body to take the chill off and stamped his feet to get his circulation going. The temperature had dropped since he and Jerusha had started out.
The wind began to pick up. Henry slogged forward through the falling snow and turned his thoughts back to Reuben. Yeah, Reuben was different, but he was totally committed to the church. He didnât want any part of the world, not even...
Henry stopped the thought. It was too painful to think about little Jenna. She had been a beautiful girl, she was curious about everything and clearly smart.
And she liked me. Still donât know what she saw in a big dumb Buckeye like me. But we sure hit it off.
Henry remembered the days he would come over after work to help Reuben and little Jenna would toddle out on the porch. âHenny, Henny,â she would call, holding out her arms.
Henry would pick her up and lift her over his head. Jenna would scream with delight while Jerusha smiled at him warmly.
âTouch the roof, Jenna,â Henry would say, and Jenna would reach up in the tall boyâs arms and touch the porch roof with her chubby little hands.
âUp again, Henny,â she would say, and Henry would lift her up to touch the roof again.
She would have kept me out there all night touchinâ the roof. She was such a sweet little thing.
The memory touched a not-quite-healed place in his heart.
Mr. Hershberger, Jennaâs grandfather, doted on her and made excuses to come by often after his chores were done just to sit on the Springer porch at sundown with little Jenna curled up in his arms, listening to the songbirds in the Buckeye trees.
Jenna would lay still with her hand touching her grandfatherâs beard and her little thumb in her mouth. Henry often found the two of them sitting still on the porch, Grandpa sound asleep with the little girl in his arms. She would smile at Henry as she cuddled against her grandfather and softly stroked his beard.
She was like a ray of sunshine even on the darkest days.
When he was at the Springer house, Henry sometimes asked Reuben why the Amish were the way they were.
âYou know, Henry,â Reuben would say, âIâve seen both sides of lifeâthe Englisch way and the Amish way, and believe me, the Amish way is best. I didnât always think so, but Iâve seen some pretty horrible things out there, things that are born out of love for the world and for the power the world offers. If youâd have seen what Iâve seen, youâd know why I believe that the way of peace is the best way.â
Henry trudged on through the snow. He hadnât seen a car since he started, but the storm was fierce and Kidron was a back road, so it made sense that people wouldnât be out. This was a pretty desolate part of the county, so Henry hadnât expected to see much traffic. His had been the only car on the road when they left Apple Creek.
I sure didnât think it would take this long or that the storm would get so bad. Maybe I should have walked back to the county highway and waited for a car to pass.
Soon Henry had to force his way through drifts as the road was completely covered with snow. His eyes began playing tricks on him. Everything was so white, Henry realized he couldnât tell where he was going. He tried to see through the whiteout to find some familiar landmark but to no avail.
Suddenly he slipped and felt himself sliding into a shallow ditch. He clambered out the other side onto what looked like a lane lined with trees. He could see the branches of the closest trees on either side
Just then a gust of wind buffeted Henry and brought him out of his reverie. The snow was falling harder now, and he stopped and looked ahead. He could barely see six feet ahead of him. He pounded his arms against his body to take the chill off and stamped his feet to get his circulation going. The temperature had dropped since he and Jerusha had started out.
The wind began to pick up. Henry slogged forward through the falling snow and turned his thoughts back to Reuben. Yeah, Reuben was different, but he was totally committed to the church. He didnât want any part of the world, not even...
Henry stopped the thought. It was too painful to think about little Jenna. She had been a beautiful girl, she was curious about everything and clearly smart.
And she liked me. Still donât know what she saw in a big dumb Buckeye like me. But we sure hit it off.
Henry remembered the days he would come over after work to help Reuben and little Jenna would toddle out on the porch. âHenny, Henny,â she would call, holding out her arms.
Henry would pick her up and lift her over his head. Jenna would scream with delight while Jerusha smiled at him warmly.
âTouch the roof, Jenna,â Henry would say, and Jenna would reach up in the tall boyâs arms and touch the porch roof with her chubby little hands.
âUp again, Henny,â she would say, and Henry would lift her up to touch the roof again.
She would have kept me out there all night touchinâ the roof. She was such a sweet little thing.
The memory touched a not-quite-healed place in his heart.
Mr. Hershberger, Jennaâs grandfather, doted on her and made excuses to come by often after his chores were done just to sit on the Springer porch at sundown with little Jenna curled up in his arms, listening to the songbirds in the Buckeye trees.
Jenna would lay still with her hand touching her grandfatherâs beard and her little thumb in her mouth. Henry often found the two of them sitting still on the porch, Grandpa sound asleep with the little girl in his arms. She would smile at Henry as she cuddled against her grandfather and softly stroked his beard.
She was like a ray of sunshine even on the darkest days.
When he was at the Springer house, Henry sometimes asked Reuben why the Amish were the way they were.
âYou know, Henry,â Reuben would say, âIâve seen both sides of lifeâthe Englisch way and the Amish way, and believe me, the Amish way is best. I didnât always think so, but Iâve seen some pretty horrible things out there, things that are born out of love for the world and for the power the world offers. If youâd have seen what Iâve seen, youâd know why I believe that the way of peace is the best way.â
Henry trudged on through the snow. He hadnât seen a car since he started, but the storm was fierce and Kidron was a back road, so it made sense that people wouldnât be out. This was a pretty desolate part of the county, so Henry hadnât expected to see much traffic. His had been the only car on the road when they left Apple Creek.
I sure didnât think it would take this long or that the storm would get so bad. Maybe I should have walked back to the county highway and waited for a car to pass.
Soon Henry had to force his way through drifts as the road was completely covered with snow. His eyes began playing tricks on him. Everything was so white, Henry realized he couldnât tell where he was going. He tried to see through the whiteout to find some familiar landmark but to no avail.
Suddenly he slipped and felt himself sliding into a shallow ditch. He clambered out the other side onto what looked like a lane lined with trees. He could see the branches of the closest trees on either side
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