Blurb:
During colonial
times, John and Anna settle in an Ohio village to become Moravian missionaries
to the Lenape.
When John is called
away two days before Christmas to help at another settlement, he promises he'll
be back by Christmas Day. When he doesn't show up, Anna works hard to not fear
the worst while she provides her children with a traditional Moravian
Christmas.
Through it all, she
discovers a Christmas promise that will give her the peace she craves.
Excerpt:
December 23, 1773, Schoenbrunn Village, Ohio
Anna Brunner kneaded dough while she tried not to notice it was
almost dusk. Her husband still wasn’t home. She wiped her hands on her apron
and glanced out the six-pane window. The last glint of sunlight blazed the
horizon gleaming on the dirt path. No trace of him.
After scooping some sugar, she worked it into the dough and
strove to reflect on the Christmas Eve Lovefeast and all the work she had
ahead. She’d been honored with the mission of making the sweet buns and would
be one of the Dieners serving the meal at their newly
built church.
It did no good to fret about what was going on at the meeting
down the road. She’d find out soon enough. She released her anxiety on the dough
as she squeezed her fingers through and pounded it into shape.
After living in this village for over a year, celebrating the
yuletide with all the fanfare it deserved would make up for everything.
Almost.
The children giggled as they finished a game of jackstraws.
Belinda, eight years old, failed to remove a straw without touching the others,
and Lisel, the round faced six-year-old, smirked as she shouted out in triumph.
Three-year-old Katrina’s brown curls bounced as she clapped for Lisel. She
hadn’t managed to win any rounds, but Belinda insisted they let her play until
a winner had been declared.
“Let’s get the tree ready,” Belinda said.
The girls threw the wheat straws in a basket and dashed to the
wooden pyramid frame their father had built. Large boughs were stacked in the
corner of the room. Earlier today, before John was beckoned, he’d cut them from
the pine trees that lined God’s Acre, the village cemetery.
Moravians didn’t cut down trees and drag them into houses the
way some did. By using the frame built from wood, and boughs cut from limbs,
they still managed to build a nice Christmas tree.
Once all the limbs were in place, the girls would decorate it
with pieces of paper with Scripture verses written on them, and pure white
beeswax candles with red ribbons tied around them to represent Jesus, the light
of the world, who shed his blood on the cross.
Maybe this year will be better.
Anna’s thoughts drifted to when her husband announced his
decision to move to the Ohio wilderness. She had been livid. Many Lenni Lenape
were forced to move west, but that didn’t mean the missionaries from the
Moravian Church needed to follow those Delaware Indians, at least, not the
missionaries with families. There were still plenty of natives in Pennsylvania.
John had gazed at her with his steel blue eyes. “Anna, we
learned to speak Lenape and taught it to our children for this reason, to share
the Gospel with the natives.”
“We’re already doing that. Think of the danger.” She delivered a
daunting glower of her own, meant to dissuade him. “We have children to
consider.”
For days, she’d tried to change his mind by pointing out they
didn’t need to leave their family and friends in Bethlehem to serve God. He
promised her they’d be safe, that the girls would be protected, but she told
him he should stop making promises he couldn’t keep.
“We have our duty as missionaries to the natives.” His voice was
calm as if his statement settled the matter.
“I won’t go.” The declaration had shocked her as much as it did
her husband.
Anna glanced out the window. Dark clouds had blown in obscuring
the rising full moon.
John should have been home eating his supper by now.
Earlier, she’d arrived from walking the girls home from school
to find John huddled around the fire in discussion with Brother Luke, a village
elder. Luke had been a Moravian for so long, she sometimes forgot he was
Lenape.
“We can’t let him face them by himself.” John’s furrowed brow
wrinkled his normally pleasant face.
When Anna closed the door, the conversation abruptly stopped.
Luke stood. “Forgive the interruption, Sister Brunner. The
elders have need of your husband’s wisdom.”
John had grabbed his coat and kissed her on the cheek.
Anna placed a hand over her stomach. “When will you be home?”
“I don’t know, but it’ll be in time to sup with you and the
children. I promise.” He closed the door behind him before she could say more.
That was four hours ago.
Lisel attached another bough to the tree and scooted next to
Anna pulling on her skirt. “Mama, when do we eat? I’m hungry.”
Anna reached down and gave Lisel a hug. “Soon, child. Help
Belinda and Katrina with the tree.” She grabbed the copper ladle hanging on the
wall next to the fireplace and stirred the stew she kept warm on the embers.
The aroma of pieces of roast pig, overdone potatoes, and turnips made her
stomach rumble. If he took much longer, she’d feed the children without him.
She remembered the astonishment in John’s eyes when she had told
him she was staying in Bethlehem. He didn’t say anything, didn’t chide her, or
tell her she was a disobedient wife. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed
her forehead.
She quivered under his touch.
He kissed her in a way that overpowered her objections as she
melted against him. Pulling back, he said in a quiet voice, “Shall we deny the
Lamb that was slain the reward of His suffering by refusing to go?”
A lump formed in her throat, and before he released her, tears
rolled down her cheeks. What choice did she have?
So they set off with a group of twenty-eight Moravians, both
white man and native, to settle the wilderness and preach the Gospel to the
Lenape.
Anna hadn’t felt safe since. She punched the dough and set it on
the bread board to rise.
Since they moved to Schoenbrunn Village, most Lenape welcomed
the Moravians, but some looked upon them with suspicion even though most of the
families in the group were natives. Then there were the Iroquois, Wyandot, and
Shawnee, all warrior tribes leery of the settlers, and some of them hostile
towards Lenape.
Looking out the window, she couldn’t see anyone coming down the
path, only shadows of other cabins. She grabbed the flintlock on the mantle and
lit the candles so they could see to eat their supper.
There’d even been an incident in Gnadenhutten, their sister
village to the south, of some Wyandot marauding homes and stealing supplies.
They didn’t hurt anyone, but they might next time. Or they might decide to
pillage Schoenbrunn Village.
She rubbed her belly, hidden by the light blue apron that
protected her blue and white striped wool dress. She’d sewn it last winter out
of the material she’d bought before they left Pennsylvania.
New life growing inside helped keep her mind off the dangers.
Maybe next year she could give John a son. That would make things the way they
used to be. She would tell him the news on Christmas Day.
She set tin plates on the wooden table next to the wall where
the children had decorated the tree. Many of the preparations for the
celebration were already done. The tree took up too much space in their small
cabin, but it was worth it.
They still had room for the rocking chair perched by the
fireplace. John had made it for Anna last Christmas. Baskets, water carriers, a
spinning wheel, and various other tools were hidden away on shelves in the
corner to provide more room. A straw tick where the children slept was tucked
under the rope bed.
Lisel reached up as far as she could to attach a bough to a higher
wooden beam. Katrina only managed to reach the lower planks. Belinda moved the
papers and ink bottle from the table where she’d been writing out Scriptures to
hang on the branches.
Anna’s oldest daughter reminded her of her husband, not only
because of her straight blond hair and ruddy complexion covered with freckles,
but because of her devotion to God and courage in adversity, virtues Anna once
had before…
The door flew open, and the burst of frigid air chilled the room
and blew out one of the candles.
John stepped inside with a recent Lenape convert who had been
baptized under the name Paul. Anna was glad the man had converted. Brother Paul
was six feet tall and built like a tree.
Her husband was almost as tall and as broad across the
shoulders, with a pleasant look that seemed to want to break into a smile at
the slightest provocation. John’s strength helped her feel safe, as if being
wrapped in a warm blanket. Even though she’d lived among Lenape most of her
life, Brother Paul scared her.
Belinda and Lisel ran to their father and gave him a tight
embrace. Katrina tugged on his trouser leg until he picked her up and ran a
hand through her brown ringlets. Katrina was the only one of their children who
favored Anna.
“Papa,” Belinda said. “I’m writing Scriptures to hang on the
tree, and I helped Mama with the buns for the feast. We’re almost ready.”
John hugged his oldest girl. “You’re such a blessing to your
mama.” He said the words in English, which was odd. They spoke Lenape when
natives were around, especially ones who hadn’t learned English. John would
normally remind the girls to speak Lenape when they had a guest.
“I helped, too.” Lisel allowed her lower lip to almost reach her
chin.
“No sulking.” John patted Lisel’s head. “There’s enough work for
everyone.”
“I help Mama,” Katrina said.
“Of course, you do.” John set Katrina on the dirt floor.
“Children.” Anna grabbed hold of Katrina’s hand. “Give your
father an opportunity to settle. Why don’t you work on the Putz?”
Lisel clapped her hands together, and the girls gathered near
the blazing fire where pinecones, cloth, and papers lay in a wicker basket. The
children would make figures out of them depicting the Nativity, the wise men,
and the Exodus from Egypt. John had already whittled a small manger. Katrina,
as the youngest, would place the pinecone baby Jesus in it on Christmas Eve
after the Lovefeast.
Anna tucked a stray curl into her Habba, turned to Paul, and spoke
Lenape to welcome him. “Nulelìntàm
èli paan. May I serve you anything—coffee, water?”
Brother Paul shook his head. He wore a grey shirt and trousers,
a buckskin coat similar to her husband’s, and had shaved his Mohawk. But when
he crossed his arms and leaned against the door post, he looked as intimidating
as when he wore black and red paint around his eyes, and dressed like a
warrior.
“We’ll need ashcakes.” John now spoke in Lenape. His Adam’s
apple bulged as he grabbed the musket hanging on the wall over the fireplace.
“And a couple canteens of water.”
Anna wrapped the cornmeal ashcakes in a cloth and poured water
from the pitcher into the wooden canteens. “I kept some stew warm for you. Do
you and Brother Paul have time to sup before your journey?”
“No, we must make haste.” John glanced out the window. “It’s
already dark. We need to arrive at Gnadenhutten before it gets too late.”
She motioned John to the corner of the cabin, and whispered so
the girls wouldn’t be alarmed. “Something’s wrong.”
“A delegation from a nearby Lenape tribe arrived at
Gnadenhutten. They have requested to meet with leaders from both of our
villages.” John touched her arm. “Don’t be troubled. They mean no harm. They
only want to know more about what we’re preaching.”
Anna’s stomach knotted. “Is there any danger?”
“You fret too much.” A smile played with the edges of John’s
mouth. But that’s all it did. “They only want to converse, nothing more.”
“How many will accompany you?”
“Brother Paul and Brother Luke.”
Her shoulders relaxed. Luke had been a trusted native helper to
the Moravians since his youth. They’d known him for years in Pennsylvania. But
Paul showed up at the village a few months ago.
“Why must you go?” Anna wrapped her arms around John. “You have
responsibilities to your family. Let somebody without a wife and children take
your place.”
John hugged her for a moment, and then pulled back to tilt her
chin towards him. The lighthearted facade had been replaced by an intense gaze.
“We came here to advance the Kingdom of God. Shall I pull back now?”
Anna wiped away the stray tear rolling down her cheek. “May the
Lamb that was slain receive the reward of His suffering.” She said the words in
Lenape to reassure him, but they didn’t make her feel any better.
“Amen.” Brother Paul stepped over to them and put a hand on
John’s shoulder. “Brother, we must go now.”
John nodded.
Anna swallowed back the lump in her throat and spoke in English.
It seemed too intimate a moment with her husband to let Paul understand her
words. “Will you be home in time for the Lovefeast tomorrow night?”
John’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know.”
“You can’t miss the celebration of the birth of our Savior.”
“I’ll try to be back in time.” John’s jaw twitched. “I promise
to be home for Christmas.”
Anna wanted to argue with him, tell him not to go, but it
wouldn’t do any good. She forced her breathing to slow to a normal pace. “Then
I’ll make it the best we ever had.”
“That won’t be hard,” John said. “Any Christmas with you and the
girls is good.”
“Brother John.” Paul nodded towards the door. “They’re waiting.”
“I’ll meet you outside.”
The door made a thumping sound as Paul closed it on the way out.
“Children,” Anna said. “Papa’s going on a journey. Come say
good-bye.”
The girls ran to their father and hugged him.
“When will you be back?” Belinda asked.
“Maybe tomorrow in time for the Lovefeast.” John wiped his hand
across his neck. “If not, I’ll see you Christmas Day.”
John took Anna into his arms once again and kissed her. The heat
of the moment swept through her as she leaned into the kiss with parted lips.
He rested his mouth against her neck, and then pulled away. After strapping on
his supplies and musket, he opened the door.
The blast of winter filled the cabin and sent a chill through
her. She scampered to the fireplace, grabbed her ladle, and dished stew onto
tin plates. “Children, come to the table to sup.” The door shut with a dull
thud behind her.
John was gone.
Buy Links:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Christmas-Promise-Holiday-Extravaganza-ebook/dp/B017QL648W
Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-christms-promise-tamera-lynn-kraft/1134304614?ean=9781611163285
Award winning author Tamera Lynn Kraft has always loved adventures.
She loves to write historical fiction set in the United States because there
are so many stories in American history. There are strong elements of faith,
romance, suspense and adventure in her stories. Forks in the Road,
Lost in the Storm, and
Resurrection of Hope are among her published works.
Tamera been married for 42 years to the
love of her life, Rick, and has two married adult children and three
grandchildren. She has been a children’s
pastor for over 20 years. She is the leader of a ministry called Revival Fire for
Kids where she mentors other children’s leaders, teaches workshops, and is a
children’s ministry consultant and children’s evangelist and has written
children’s church curriculum. She is a recipient of the 2007 National
Children’s Leaders Association Shepherd’s Cup for lifetime achievement in
children’s ministry.
You can contact Tamera online at these sites.
Website: http://tameralynnkraft.net
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/cdybpb
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7334438.Tamera_Lynn_Kraft
Word Sharpeners Blog: http://tameralynnkraft.com
Facebook: http://facebook.com/tameralynnkraft
Twitter: http://twitter.com/tamerakraft
Questions:
1.
Why this book? What inspired you to write it?
I wanted to write a
Christmas story about Ohio when it was still a wilderness. While I was
researching, I found out that Moravian missionaries settled in Ohio before the
Civil War. I also found out that many of our Christmas traditions were brought
to America by Moravians. I knew I had found the setting for my story.
2.
What is your favourite Christmas carol/song and why?
Breathe of Heaven
by Amy Grant. It is a haunting song telling the story of how Mary must have
felt and how things were not easy for her.
3.
What is the best Christmas present you ever received
and who was it from?
That’s a difficult
question. I’ve had so many. I think the best gift I ever received was from my
children. They were young, and we didn’t have a lot of money, so they made
God’s eye ornaments out of popsicle sticks and yarn because they wanted to give
their mom a Christmas present. I still have them.
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