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A Cup Half Full: An Amish Home Novella
A Cup Half Full: An Amish Home Novella
A Cup Half Full: An Amish Home Novella
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A Cup Half Full: An Amish Home Novella

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Sarah Lantz always dreamed of the perfect home, the perfect husband, the perfect family. When she married Abram, she knew she was on her way to securing her perfect life. But all of that changes in one moment when an accident leaves her unable to walk and confined to a wheelchair, dashing all of her dreams. As Abram starts to transform their home, Sarah begins a transformation in her spirit, and she begins, once again, to see her cup as half full.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherThomas Nelson
Release dateFeb 7, 2017
ISBN9780718023652
A Cup Half Full: An Amish Home Novella
Author

Beth Wiseman

Bestselling and award-winning author Beth Wiseman has sold over two million books. She is the recipient of the coveted Holt Medallion, is a two-time Carol Award winner, and has won the Inspirational Reader's Choice Award three times. Her books have been on various bestseller lists, including CBA, ECPA, Christianbook, and Publishers Weekly. Beth and her husband are empty nesters enjoying country life in south-central Texas. Visit her online at BethWiseman.com; Facebook: @AuthorBethWiseman; Twitter: @BethWiseman; Instagram: @bethwisemanauthor

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    Book preview

    A Cup Half Full - Beth Wiseman

    © 2017 by Elizabeth Wiseman Mackey

    All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means–electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other–except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

    Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Thomas Nelson. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of HarperCollins Christian Publishing, Inc.

    Thomas Nelson titles may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, fund-raising, or sales promotional use. For information, please e-mail SpecialMarkets@ThomasNelson.com.

    All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from The Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV ®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, IncTM Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

    Scripture quotations marked NKJV are taken from the New King James Version®. © 1982 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

    Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.

    Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

    CIP data available upon request.

    Printed in the United States of America

    1718192021LSC54321

    CONTENTS

    Glossary

    Chapter One

    Chapter Two

    Chapter Three

    Chapter Four

    Chapter Five

    Chapter Six

    Chapter Seven

    Chapter Eight

    Chapter Nine

    Chapter Ten

    Discussion Questions

    Acknowledgments

    Recipes from A Cup Half Full

    Sarah’s Chicken and Rice Casserole

    Brenda’s Beef and Cheese Casserole

    An excerpt from Home Sweet Home

    Also by Beth Wiseman

    About the Author

    To: Ann and Bill Rogers

    GLOSSARY

    ach—oh

    bruder—brother

    daed—dad

    danki—thank you

    Englisch /-er—a non-Amish person

    fraa—wife

    gut—good

    haus—house

    kapp—prayer covering or cap

    lieb—love

    maedel—girl

    mamm—mom

    mammi—grandmother

    mei—my

    mudder—mother

    nee—no

    rumschpringe—running-around period when a teenager turns sixteen years old

    sohn—son

    Wei bischt?—How are you? or Hi there.

    ya—yes

    * THE GERMAN DIALECT SPOKEN BY THE AMISH IS NOT A written language and varies depending on the location and origin of the settlement. These spellings are approximations. Most Amish children learn English after they start school. They also learn High German, which is used in their Sunday services.

    CHAPTER ONE

    SARAH SAT NEXT TO ABRAM IN THE BACK SEAT OF THE van while their hired driver stowed Sarah’s wheelchair in the rear compartment. Wheelchair. It was a word she would need to get used to, along with the knowledge that she’d never walk again.

    Wait until you see what I’ve done to the house. Abram latched onto Sarah’s hand and squeezed, as if he’d done a luxurious remodel of their home. Instead, he’d turned it into a handicap-accessible house so that Sarah could get around inside, complete with a wheelchair ramp leading to the porch, he’d told her.

    She forced a smile as the driver pulled out of the hospital parking lot, a place she’d called home for the past month.

    Johnny helped me lower the sinks and cabinets, and we have handrails everywhere you might need them. Abram’s dark eyes shone with an emotion Sarah hadn’t been able to identify over the past few weeks. Was it pity? Empathy? Regret? Guilt? Sarah had assured Abram that the accident hadn’t been his fault. Thankfully, her husband had walked away with only a few scratches and a bump on his head. Sarah’s side of the buggy had taken the hardest hit from the blue car. She didn’t remember much about that day, but she remembered the blue car.

    Your family should be at the house when we get there, to welcome you home. Abram brushed back a strand of Sarah’s red hair that had fallen from her kapp. She’d spent her entire life getting used to the fact that she was the only one in their district with red hair and freckles. Now she’d be the only person, as far as she knew, in a wheelchair.

    Sarah’s brother and parents had come to the hospital most days. They’d all been witness to her tantrums, depression, and anger at her new situation. She’d promised herself that she would tuck away those emotions today and be grateful that God had spared her life, and that He had kept Abram from serious injury.

    Abram rattled on about more modifications he’d made to their home. Sarah had heard it all before. Her husband had shared every detail throughout the process, and bragged on Sarah’s eighteen-year-old brother, how Johnny had come every day to lend a hand. Sarah had never been close to her brother. They were five years apart; maybe that was why. But, interestingly, Sarah had been the most comfortable at the hospital when it was just her and Johnny. He didn’t fuss over her, but he was there if she needed anything. Mostly, he just let her be. And that was what she needed. Time to process what had happened to her.

    Sarah sat still in the van while Abram paid the driver and retrieved the wheelchair from the back. An intern at the hospital had worked with Sarah, showing her the easiest ways to get in and out of the wheelchair. But despite what she’d learned, Abram insisted on picking her up and putting her in the chair that would be a part of her world forever, like a child being put in a booster seat.

    Abram had placed wide panels of plywood in areas of their muddy yard, including a pathway toward the porch that would accommodate a wheelchair following rainy weather. She could see her parents on the porch, both smiling, but she barely gave them a glance. Her focus was on the slowly ascending plank that stretched before her like a bridge between her old life and her new one. A railing wrapped around the porch, upon which were two white wooden rocking chairs. Sarah wondered if she’d ever rock again. Her legs would just rest on the wooden slats with no way to kick herself into motion. It had always been her favorite place to be, sitting on the porch, sipping meadow tea, and watching her husband work in the fields. Especially this time of year, in the spring, with her flowerbeds filled with colorful blooms. She’d usually knit as she rocked. At least she could still do that. Playing volleyball on Sunday afternoons with the young folks wouldn’t be an option ever again. And she was certain that list would grow over time.

    I’ve made a roast, potatoes, and carrots for dinner. Her mother clasped her hands in front of her, smiling as Abram pushed Sarah’s wheelchair up the ramp. And a red velvet cake for dessert.

    Sarah suspected there was a much larger display of food awaiting them inside. Mary Stoltzfus believed that food cured all things. But being permanently handicapped wasn’t an ailment that Sarah’s mother could mend.

    Danki, Sarah said as she looked up at her mother, then her brother, and lastly at her father, who was looking at the ground. He’d visited her in the hospital the least and had very little to say. Unusual for a man who almost always voiced his thoughts. Sometimes when he shouldn’t. I appreciate everything you’ve all done.

    Sarah’s father opened the door, and Sarah breathed in the aroma of supper. She welcomed the familiarity of her mother’s cooking. But when she crossed the threshold of the front door, she gasped.

    You don’t like it? Abram stepped in front of her as the lines in his forehead creased. More lines than she remembered. I can change it. A muscle quivered at his jaw.

    "Nee, nee, she said before swallowing hard. It is fine. Very gut." She’d known this was coming, but seeing the counters a foot shorter shocked her anyway. And all of the cabinets above the counters were gone. A long row of locker-style cupboards on the floor now housed her kitchenware against a wall, which used to have racks for hanging hats and capes.

    I can change anything. Abram walked to the sink, where he towered over it like a giant who had wandered into the wrong home.

    "Nee, it’s fine. Really." Sarah knew the hours her husband had put in to transform their home. And between working outside and putting in his thirty hours per week at the hardware store, she suspected he had lost a good bit of sleep completing the task. But he’d still found time to visit her daily at the hospital. That added the expense of hiring a driver since it was too far to travel by buggy. Her parents and brother had also incurred that cost. Sarah had become a burden before she’d set one foot inside her house. A knot formed in her throat, knowing she’d never actually set her feet anywhere again.

    Abram told his mother-in-law how wonderful the food was, thanked her for preparing the meal, and thanked Johnny again for all his help. As Sarah stayed quiet and picked at her food, Abram and Sarah’s father settled into a conversation about the bishop. A topic Abram would have chosen to avoid since Saul never had anything nice to say about the man. Especially lately.

    If my roots weren’t firmly grounded in Lancaster County, I’d pick up and move, Saul said, frowning. Lloyd Yoder has no business being bishop.

    Mary sighed heavily. Saul, this is not a conversation for the supper table. She narrowed her eyebrows at her husband, nodding slightly toward Sarah, whose head was down. Especially not today.

    Saul raised a bushy gray eyebrow. I think the Lord made a mistake when He saw fit for Lloyd to become bishop.

    The Lord doesn’t make mistakes, Mary said as she shook her head. Now, eat your supper. She turned to Sarah. "How’s the roast? I bet you’re glad to have a home-cooked meal, ya?"

    Sarah nodded, but continued to move her food around on her plate. Mary would faint if she knew about all the fast-food Abram had picked up on the way to see his wife. Halfway into Sarah’s stay at the hospital, their driver—Lucas—would ask, Where to today? Sometimes it was burgers and fries.

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