Christmas Visitor by Linda Byler Page A

tell you that I’ll have to back out of the shopping trip. The boys had a near accident yesterday, pulling out in front of a pickup with Oatmeal, and I had to have Roy’s wrist taken care of.”
    â€œOh no! Are they okay?”
    â€œYes, just a bad sprain in Roy’s left wrist.”
    â€œWell, good, but it really spites me you can’t go with us. Do you want me to give you some money? Of course, I better not say that. Eph would have a fit. He can hardly get forty hours in down at the shed place, this time of year. Trixie!”
    Mamie got up and lumbered after the tiny Pomeranian. Ruth had to wonder what kept the dog alive, being underfoot all the time.
    â€œI don’t know where that Johnny is. Now, as we were saying, if you can’t go, will you be able to have Christmas gifts this year? Ach Ruth, I simply pity you so bad. I’m going to tell Davey that you’re out of money.”
    â€œNo! Mamie please. Our deacon has enough to think about.”
    â€œYou want coffee?”
    â€œNo, I have to get back. Roy might need me.”
    Ruth glanced around, trying not to notice the piles of dirty dishes, the messy stove top, the fly hanger above the table dotted with dead houseflies — not to mention the clutter all over the floor.
    â€œStop looking at my house.”
    Ruth laughed. With Mamie, everything was easy. You could always be yourself and say what you wanted without having to attempt any unnecessary niceties.
    â€œWhy don’t you wash your dishes?”
    â€œYou know why?”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause I don’t like washing dishes. Ever. I have to force myself to tackle a sink load of them. They need to come up with a dishwasher that runs on air.”
    â€œTell Ephraim to start designing one. He could.”
    â€œPpfff!”
    Ruth smiled and then laughed.
    â€œMamie, you are the dearest best friend in the world. I just have to tell you how much I appreciate you.”
    â€œAch Ruth, now you’re going to make me cry. Well, I feel the same about you. Just so you know.” Then Mamie held her head to one side, eyed Ruth shrewdly, and asked if she loved her enough to wash dishes.
    â€œI’d love to wash your dishes.”
    â€œI bet.”
    Still smiling, Ruth walked home, richer in friendship than in money. That was sure.
    All through the rest of the month of October, Ruth tried not to plan ahead unnecessarily or build up mountains of worry.
    Of course, Mam and the sisters planned shopping trips for November, in between weddings and all the usual events planned around them.
    Ruth had received three wedding invitations. She put them back in the envelopes slowly, absentmindedly letting her fingers trace the embossed lettering.
    How could she attend a wedding alone? If ever there was a single event that would cripple her sense of being even slightly courageous, it had to be a wedding. How could she endure a whole day surrounded by couples, dating ones or married ones? The absence of Ben was a painful handicap, even just thinking about it.
    No, she would not go.
    Chicken pox spread through the community all through November. The boys went to school as usual, having had them when they were much younger, but Esther and Barbara were feverish, achy, and irritable. They argued and fought over toys and crayons and books. And relentless, cold rain pounded against the east windows, ran down the panes, and puddled between the wet, swaying bushes. The bare branches of the old oak tree looked cold and black and slick, etched against the weeping sky.
    Benjamin fussed in his swing. Lillian somehow found a permanent marker and scribbled all over the hallway, and Ruth felt as if she would not be able to tolerate one more day alone without Ben.
    The pustules from the chicken pox broke out all over the girls’ little bodies, and they finally felt better. When they became itchy, Ruth patiently filled the bathtub with warm water, added baking soda, swirled