When Grace Sings by Kim Vogel Sawyer Page B

all,
you’re
my father. And you’re my mother.” She pulled loose from Steven’s hand to embrace Mrs. Braun. The two women clung for several seconds before Anna—Grace released her hold and reached for Steven again. She sniffled. “I’ve always been grateful God gave me to you. I can’t imagine better parents than the ones I have.”
    Steven contributed nothing to the conversation, but he silently agreed with Anna—Grace’s assessment. Andrew Braun’s reputation in town was stellar—he’d never heard an unpleasant word spoken about the man. Olivia Braun’s popularity within their fellowship matched her husband’s. When someone had a problem, they came to Mrs. Braun for understanding, sage counsel, and a plateful of homemade cookies. Even though Anna—Grace’s origins were unknown, Steven’s parents hadn’t discouraged him from courting her because they trusted the upbringing she’d been given. He admired Anna—Grace’s tenderness, honesty, and strong faith. He couldn’t have chosen a better girl to be his wife.
    “Thank you, sweetheart.” Mr. Braun smiled, but it seemed a little strained. “We’ve done our best, with God’s help, and we’ve never regretted making you our daughter. In our hearts, you are ours, and you always will be.” He pulled in a slow breath, his fingers tightening until his knuckles turned white. “Yet we can’t deny someone else gave birth to you. And now that we know who the man and woman are, and that you will soon …”
    He hung his head and fell silent for several long seconds. Was headdressing God—requesting strength or wisdom or even courage? Steven found himself sending up a prayer for God to give Mr. Braun whatever it was he needed.
    Finally the man unlinked his hands, braced them on his knees, and pushed upright so slowly it appeared his joints needed oiling. He crossed the floor and stood in front of Anna—Grace. His face held such tenderness, Steven felt like an interloper looking on. He held both hands to his daughter, and Anna—Grace rose and reached back. “Anna—Grace, when you move to Arborville with Steven, you will be in the same community as your birth father.”
    Steven jolted, sending his spine against the corner of the sofa. “W-what?”
    Mr. Braun took Anna—Grace in his arms. “Shortly after our trip to Arborville for Aunt Abigail’s birthday party, your birth mother gave us letters written by her and your father to share with you when you were ready.”
    Anna—Grace spoke with her cheek pressed to her father’s chest. “Does she live in Arborville, too?”
    Mrs. Braun rose and wrapped her arms around the pair. “No. But her family does.”
    Steven shook his head, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. If Anna—Grace’s birth parents were from Arborville, they were Old Order—Amish or Mennonite. But either way an illegitimate birth would be cause for scandal in the small community.
    Mr. Braun cupped his hand on Anna—Grace’s mesh cap, as if afraid she would collapse. “We hadn’t planned to give the letters to you until you asked about your birth parents, but if you’re going to live in the same town with your mother’s family and your father, we think you need to know who they are.”
    An idea crashed over Steven with as much force as a brick wall. He bowed beneath its pressure and then forced himself to stand. He extended his hand toward Mr. Braun. “Wait. Before you go any further, let me ask Anna—Grace an important question.”
    Mr. Braun set his daughter aside, and she turned toward Steven. Tears formed two moist tracks down her pale face. She seemed so lost, so confused.Compassion swelled in Steven’s chest. Maybe this was God’s way of saving Anna—Grace from facing a situation she wasn’t ready to face. Maybe this was God’s way of saving him from making a mistake with his future.
God, am I being selfish or selfless here?
He didn’t know for sure, but he had to at least say what he was