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Authors: Vannetta Chapman
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ride, then picked up her rental car. She’d arranged with the customer service rep to rent the small Ford on a weekly basis, since she still had no clear indication as to how long it would take to sell the store.
Though it had been only thirteen days since she’d flown into Indiana, not even two weeks since she’d had her own car at herdisposal, she realized as she adjusted the driver’s seat and checked the rear view mirror just how much of her sense of independence was tied to a vehicle. It felt odd to be driving out of the parking lot—odd but invigorating.
How did the Amish do it?
Depending on others to transport them around, being locked into a ten-mile radius, it was so confining.
Of course she had managed to meet quite a few of the local people that she probably wouldn’t have otherwise.
Callie set the radio on low as she began the drive back to Shipshe, her mood drastically improved.
A stop at the warehouse discount store located on the edge of Elkhart cheered her even more. She didn’t buy much, but delighted in noting what they carried and that it was only twenty minutes away. She did pick up a giant bag of dog food and more bandanas for Max. No use having a dog if you couldn’t dress him up. She also purchased office supplies for printing her flyers, sales sheets, and bookmarks.
The expenses were adding up, but she’d sat down and made out a budget the night before. If she was going to run a successful business, then she needed to put a percentage of the assets Daisy had left back into the quilt shop. Even though she didn’t plan on staying in Shipshe long, she knew she’d be able to sell the business for a higher price if she could show it was profitable. She actually felt good about investing some of the money she had received from her aunt’s estate.
Once home, she spent the remainder of the afternoon photographing the quilts, then made the bookmarks containing the eBay information. They turned out even better than she’d imagined, thanks to the new color printer her aunt had recently purchased.
As she readied for bed that evening, she reached for Daisy’s journal. It was fast becoming a habit, reading Daisy’s words beforesleeping. Usually she opened the journal up randomly. Her aunt didn’t write long entries and often they were about people around Shipshe that Callie didn’t know. Reflecting on small cares, praying for the needs of others, admitting when she’d occasionally lost her temper. It was surprising to read that her aunt could be moody. Maybe she’d inherited more than she realized from her mom’s sister.
Callie was surprised to find herself mentioned in the pages so often. As her aunt’s only niece, she didn’t realize how much time Daisy had spent thinking about her, praying for her. She opened the book to June, five years earlier—
My niece is married now, Lord. And I’m sitting here with Max and this sprained ankle. Can you blame me for fuming? But I’m not writing to complain. It’s my own fault that I was carrying too big a load down the stairs and tripped. No, I’m writing to thank you that Callie has found such a fine young man. She sent me pictures of her and Rick. He sounds very special. I’m so glad you blessed her with a good man, someone who will care for her. You’re a good Father. They look very happy. Since I can’t be there, I’ll use my time to crochet a blanket for them.
The other entries which mentioned Rick or her baby had left Callie feeling as if the deep ache might burst open, but tonight’s entry only brought a smile. “Come on, Max. You can sleep up here.” Max bounded on the bed, settled his head across her stomach.
She still had the blanket Daisy had crocheted them—it was a lovely blue and yellow. When she drifted off to sleep, it was with memories of her first year with Rick sifting through her mind.
Downtown shops were traditionally closed on Monday, so Callie spent the next morning perusing the internet and in the
Though it had been only thirteen days since she’d flown into Indiana, not even two weeks since she’d had her own car at herdisposal, she realized as she adjusted the driver’s seat and checked the rear view mirror just how much of her sense of independence was tied to a vehicle. It felt odd to be driving out of the parking lot—odd but invigorating.
How did the Amish do it?
Depending on others to transport them around, being locked into a ten-mile radius, it was so confining.
Of course she had managed to meet quite a few of the local people that she probably wouldn’t have otherwise.
Callie set the radio on low as she began the drive back to Shipshe, her mood drastically improved.
A stop at the warehouse discount store located on the edge of Elkhart cheered her even more. She didn’t buy much, but delighted in noting what they carried and that it was only twenty minutes away. She did pick up a giant bag of dog food and more bandanas for Max. No use having a dog if you couldn’t dress him up. She also purchased office supplies for printing her flyers, sales sheets, and bookmarks.
The expenses were adding up, but she’d sat down and made out a budget the night before. If she was going to run a successful business, then she needed to put a percentage of the assets Daisy had left back into the quilt shop. Even though she didn’t plan on staying in Shipshe long, she knew she’d be able to sell the business for a higher price if she could show it was profitable. She actually felt good about investing some of the money she had received from her aunt’s estate.
Once home, she spent the remainder of the afternoon photographing the quilts, then made the bookmarks containing the eBay information. They turned out even better than she’d imagined, thanks to the new color printer her aunt had recently purchased.
As she readied for bed that evening, she reached for Daisy’s journal. It was fast becoming a habit, reading Daisy’s words beforesleeping. Usually she opened the journal up randomly. Her aunt didn’t write long entries and often they were about people around Shipshe that Callie didn’t know. Reflecting on small cares, praying for the needs of others, admitting when she’d occasionally lost her temper. It was surprising to read that her aunt could be moody. Maybe she’d inherited more than she realized from her mom’s sister.
Callie was surprised to find herself mentioned in the pages so often. As her aunt’s only niece, she didn’t realize how much time Daisy had spent thinking about her, praying for her. She opened the book to June, five years earlier—
My niece is married now, Lord. And I’m sitting here with Max and this sprained ankle. Can you blame me for fuming? But I’m not writing to complain. It’s my own fault that I was carrying too big a load down the stairs and tripped. No, I’m writing to thank you that Callie has found such a fine young man. She sent me pictures of her and Rick. He sounds very special. I’m so glad you blessed her with a good man, someone who will care for her. You’re a good Father. They look very happy. Since I can’t be there, I’ll use my time to crochet a blanket for them.
The other entries which mentioned Rick or her baby had left Callie feeling as if the deep ache might burst open, but tonight’s entry only brought a smile. “Come on, Max. You can sleep up here.” Max bounded on the bed, settled his head across her stomach.
She still had the blanket Daisy had crocheted them—it was a lovely blue and yellow. When she drifted off to sleep, it was with memories of her first year with Rick sifting through her mind.
Downtown shops were traditionally closed on Monday, so Callie spent the next morning perusing the internet and in the
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