A Promise for Miriam (16 page)

Best to go on inside first and see that she had an afternoon snack to eat. Food had been popping up in his house the last few days as well. Every time one of the men showed up to help with the barn, it seemed they brought a basketful of something baked. He might have argued with accepting the gifts except for the delight on his daughter’s face every afternoon when she came home and checked the cupboard.

His thoughts returned to the unread note, Miriam, and Doc Hanson. What would their plan be? What would it mean for Grace?

Whatever it was, they would confront it together.

Miriam wanted to speak quietly with Grace before their afternoon meeting. Unfortunately, her students had other ideas. Most days, teaching in a one-room schoolhouse was calm and things went according to plan.

And then there were days like Wednesday.

The rain had started falling steadily before she rang the eight thirty bell, which meant that everyone tracked in mud along with the last of the remaining snow. She didn’t understand how it could be raining when they had just had a blizzard, but somehow the temperatures had continued to warm through the day yesterday and even throughout the night. Esther had told her as they readied for class that the rest of the week would be in the low forties, which meant drizzly rain and thirty-eight students who could not go outside.

Once the children had come inside and spent fifteen minutes cleaning up the mess they had tracked with them, Esther had led them through their Scripture and the Lord’s Prayer. Miriam had started to harbor hope that the day would find its natural rhythm. Then they had progressed through the singing, and the Lapp boys had begun to squirm.

They hadn’t made it through the second song when something popped out of the younger boy’s pocket and Miriam’s girls fell out of line with a squeal—all except for Grace, who wanted to get closer to see better. That should have been her first clue that the boys had brought mice into the classroom. The older children had helped to catch them and deposit them out the front door—she’d thought Grace would actually speak at that point, but the young girl had written notes madly on the side. Hannah explained to her that these mice weren’t like Stanley—they were plain field mice the boys had caught in their dad’s barn.

While Esther moved the Lapp boys to the back for a private conversation and an extra writing assignment on schoolroom behavior, Miriam had started the arithmetic assignment. Younger students handed their papers to older students for grading. Older students exchanged with one another. Grade 2 students started their next reading lesson, while grade 1 students filed back to the front of the room for their oral reading lesson—though they kept glancing around as if a mouse might pop out from behind Miriam’s desk.

Things finally settled down, and she even forgot about the patter of rain against the window, but then it was time for recess and bathroom breaks. She kept a close eye on the Lapp boys as they tramped outside, but they had been sufficiently chastised. Their father gave them plenty of chores at home, and they would have enough trouble completing one extra assignment. A second dose wouldn’t be something they would want to carry home. No doubt the mice had been meant for the restroom break and had escaped early.

So she relaxed slightly, and that’s probably why she wasn’t quick enough when one of the older Stutzman girls turned too quickly on the boardwalk they set over the bigger mud puddle outside. The rain was still coming down steadily. They had two lines going out of the schoolhouse—girls out the front and boys out the back.

Later she heard the real reason Katie Stutzman slipped off the board and fell, bottom first, into the large puddle of water. Apparently she’d been trying to get a better look at Amos Hershberger. It was December—only December! Too early for spring fever and the dance between boys and girls and long looks. Besides, Katie was only twelve years old. She was much too young to have boys on her mind.

Miriam hurried outside, helped a crying Katie out of the puddle, and guided her upstairs. Though Esther’s clothes were several sizes too large, they would work for the rest of the afternoon.

Katie missed recess, and Miriam missed her chance to speak with Grace. They did make it downstairs in time for another hour of lessons—this time Esther’s older classes worked on reading and comprehension while Miriam’s students tackled new problems from their math workbooks. Perhaps it was the rain, or the morning they had experienced, or the text Esther’s classes had read. Whatever the reason, Miriam’s little ones repeatedly looked up from their numbers, pencils paused and eyes staring at their older brothers and sisters.

She finally motioned for them to close their books and listen in as Esther and her students focused on the final chapters of
Little Women.

“Now that you’ve answered questions about the facts of the novel, I want you to interpret the meaning of the story and think about what the author had in mind when she wrote it.” The older children began to squirm as they stood in line, waiting for their question.

“Hannah, this book was written more than one hundred and forty years ago. How can students today relate to it?”

Pulling on the strings of her
kapp
, Hannah stared at the board for a moment, and then she began to speak—softly at first, but more confidently as she grew sure of her answer. “It is an old book, but some things don’t change. Jo’s family had four girls, and most of us have at least that many.” There was a bit of laughter among the students. “What I liked was how each character was different. Some people think when you grow up in a large family that everyone is the same, but you’re not. Jo, Meg, Beth, and Amy all had very different personalities. The author was able to show that through their mishaps, and I think any reader can relate to the characters, even if the book was written a long time ago.”

“Good,” Esther said. “Amos.”

The boy stepped forward—tall and gangly. Miriam knew him to be a good reader.

“What is in this book for a boy?”

“Not much.”

Everyone laughed out loud now.

Amos ran his hands under his suspenders. “But when you’re reading about Jo, it’s almost as if you’re reading about a boy.”

“How so?”

“She likes to do things boys like to do rather than things she’s supposed to like to do. She wants to fight in the Civil War with her father, when actually he’s gone to be a chaplain. That shows how little she understands.” Esther nodded her agreement, so Amos continued. “Even her name—Jo instead of Josephine—shows she has trouble accepting her place in their family.”

“Know anyone like that, Amos?”

“If I did I wouldn’t say. She’d box my ears.”

Again laughter filled the room as Esther nodded for him to step back and the next student stepped forward.

The discussion continued until Esther glanced at Miriam, and Miriam stood and rang the bell for lunch. Everyone returned to their desks, and Esther dismissed the room by rows while Miriam oversaw hand-washing at the sink at the back of the room. Some students then picked up their lunch boxes, which they had stored near their coats, while others made their way to the stove where they had placed potatoes to cook.

Within fifteen minutes everyone had eaten and games of checkers and cards were set up.

“This rain
cannot
last all week,” Esther said, as she snapped her fingers at two of the boys who were chasing two of the girls in a game of Bear. Boys were the bear. Girls were lunch for the bear.

“
Ya
. Not everyone is happy playing cards, but they have to use up their energy somehow.”

“Maybe they could play Duck and go float around the school building.”

The teachers savored their sandwiches and hot tea as the rain continued to drum a pattern against the window.

“It’s so odd for the weather to be warmer this week.”

“Joseph heard in town that it’s a warm front being pushed by a much colder front that will hit again this weekend.”

“
Wunderbaar.
Just in time to keep us inside on Saturday and Sunday.”

“Did you know our record high in December was sixty-two?”

“I did not.” Miriam studied her. “Let me guess. Joseph told you that.”

Esther smiled. “He enjoys studying such things for the animals.”

“You two seem as if you are going to be very happy together.”

“
Ya
. I believe we are.”

Esther studied the rain for a moment, and then she turned to Miriam with a mischievous smile. “There’s supposed to be a singing after church. You should come. That is, if it isn’t canceled because of too much rain or too much cold.”

“I’ll think about it,” Miriam said. She would, to be kind to Esther, but she didn’t think her mind would change about attending the after-church singing for single folk. She was watching out the window at the steady flow of rain, wondering if Doc Hanson would make it. Somehow, she managed to lose track of time, and she completely forgot about the need to speak with Grace about the doctor’s appointment later that day.

Chapter 20

G
race stared from her dad to her teacher to the
Englisch
man who looked like pictures of a big bear she’d seen in a book.

The
Englischer
had no beard. That surprised her more than his size. She’d seen plenty of men without beards—all the younger men at church didn’t have them. But she’d never seen an older man without a beard.

His skin was all wrinkly, like
mammi
Sarah’s, and he had white eyebrows.

She’d been so surprised when Miriam told her to stay and not to leave in Eli’s buggy. Then she’d peeked outside and seen her dad walking toward the school door.

Was this a good thing or a bad thing?

She knew the
Englisch
man was a doctor because he had a black bag like the doctor in Indiana. Only this man’s bag had funny stickers all over it. That was a little odd. Some of the stickers were animals, and she would rather like to have a better look at those, but she wasn’t about to move closer to him in order to do so.

What was he doing here? Was he here to see her?

The thought made her squirm in her seat.

Maybe it was about her frostbite. Her cheeks still itched a little, but not so much as to make her uncomfortable. The cream Eva had given her helped a bunch, and she’d been surprised when the other kids didn’t make fun of her. Actually, they had been nicer this week.

Grace rubbed the end of her nose. Why had they been nicer this week? She suddenly wished she had Stanley in her pocket.

Instead, she sat at her desk and stared at the spot where Sadie had drawn a flower on her desktop. They had erased it right away, but she could still see the outline. It looked like a friendship flower, and it reminded her of spring.

Hard as she focused on the drawing, though, she could still hear her teacher talking to her dad.

“What do you mean you didn’t tell her?”

“I meant to, but then I got busy.”

“Busy?”

Dad shuffled his feet the way he did when he wished he could be done talking about a thing. “I could see that the rain was about to start, and the barn was nearly done, but not quite.”

When Miriam only stared at him, he added, “I read your note, like I said I would.”

“You didn’t just take it out of her box? You read it?”

“’Course I did. I told you I would.”

“You didn’t throw it away this time?”

Grace had to cover her mouth so she wouldn’t giggle. The doctor looked at her when she did that, so she tucked her hand back into her lap. Maybe giggling wasn’t allowed at this meeting. It sure was funny, though, how her teacher talked to her dad as though he were a student.

“I thought you would talk to her,” he said.

Miriam straightened a few things on her desk. Only thing was—everything on her desk was already in order.

The
Englischer
had walked over to the door and was speaking into his small telephone.

“I meant to, yes.” Now Miriam was fussing with her
kapp.
“However, the day was very busy. All of the children were stuck inside because of the weather, and then there was an episode with some mice, and Katie fell into the mud…but those are only excuses. I should have found the time to speak with her.”

Miriam glanced up, caught Grace staring at her, and smiled.

Something was not right. Not good at all.

Grace tried to think back over the last few days to see if she might have done something wrong, but nothing came to mind.

The doctor pushed a button on his phone and put it in his pocket. “Okay. I apologize. My nurse had a question, but it’s all tended to now.” He walked forward and offered his hand to her dad. “My name is Doc Hanson. Thank you for taking time out of your day to stop by. I realize how much work there is on a farm and that it’s difficult to leave it.”

Dad shook his hand. “Thank you for traveling out to see Grace.”

Grace nearly popped out of her seat at the mention of her name. Why? She’d already figured out that the doctor was here to see her. He wasn’t here to see her dad or Miriam.