A Bond Never Broken by Judith Miller

Author:Judith Miller
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Amana Society;Fiction;German Americans;Iowa;World War;1914–1918;Amana (Iowa);History, FIC042030;FIC042000;FIC026000
ISBN: 9781441214140
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2011-01-07T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 18

Jutta Schmitt

As Ilsa had predicted, there were no guests in the hotel on Christmas Eve. She had told me that only a few times had there been visitors at the hotel during the Christmas celebration. And those guests had remained because they’d been stranded due to weather. This year we’d received our share of snow, but it hadn’t come all at once. Even tonight as we walked to meeting, flurries were coming down. The moon cast a hazy path through the veil of falling snow, and I wondered what my parents were doing at this moment.

After leaving Amana, we’d attended several different churches in Marengo. And though my parents spoke enough English to communicate with customers, the churches in Marengo were very different—and German was not spoken. So soon we quit going to any church and instead remained at home, where my father read from the Psalter-Spiel and the Bible, and sometimes the three of us would sing the familiar hymns of the Amana Inspirationists. Were my mother and father sitting in front of the candlelit tree made of pine boughs singing “Rejoice Ye Heavens”? Or had they done away with any form of celebration because I wasn’t with them? I hoped not.

We separated from the men and entered the women’s door of the meetinghouse, taking our places on wooden benches worn glossy and smooth from daily use. Even in the meetinghouse, I could smell the scent of pine and spruce, though I was sure it was only my imagination. Tears welled in my eyes as we joined together and sang “All My Heart This Night Rejoices.” How good it would be to have my mother and father among this group of colonists, lifting their voices with ours in praise to God.

After meeting we walked toward home with the excited shouts of children surrounding us, each one certain Pelznickel would soon arrive—each one uncertain if the old man in his fur coat and shaggy beard would greet them with a lump of coal, apply a switch to their backside, or give them a juicy orange or some peppermints. Though most children looked forward to Pelznickel’s arrival, those who had misbehaved during the year were less enthusiastic. All, however, looked forward to the arrival of Kristkindl. For some, he would arrive late in the evening, for others not until the next day—but for all he would leave a gift. Some would receive a pair of ice skates, others a dollhouse or sled, but for everyone, his arrival brought joy and excitement. The same couldn’t be said for Pelznickel’s visits.

Garon and Ilsa walked together, while Albert walked by my side and his parents led the way home. I’d been surprised to hear Garon would spend Christmas Eve at the Redlich home, but Ilsa had explained that Garon’s family wouldn’t celebrate until the next day.

“Pelznickel stopped visiting our house when Christina turned ten years old,” Garon said as we turned the corner.

“He still visits our house because Ilsa hasn’t yet learned to behave,” Albert replied.

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