by Sarah Price
On the wide windowsill, she saw a pile of magazines called the Young Companion. Priscilla remembered that her own teacher used to read stories from them to the smaller children on Fridays. The little magazines always feature stories about a truly godly person or poems about friendship. There were even short stories about Bible verses. Priscilla couldn’t wait until she had some time to pore through the older issues and pick out stories to read to the children.
When Priscilla met with the bishop, he gave her the lesson plans from the regular teacher who was apparently quite organized. The teacher structured her days very similar to the way that Priscilla remembered her own school days: English and math in the morning before a short recess. Then reading before lunch. Writing and spelling were saved for the afternoon.
There were twenty children in the school, from a total of six families: four from the Millers, three from the Fischers, three from the Bylers, eight from two Lapp families, and her own sister’s two school-aged children. There were fewer children than when she went to school there. The majority of children were younger which Priscilla thought would make it easier.
She was curious about the Byler children. They were cousins with Susie Byler, the mean- spirited Amish woman who had bullied Priscilla last summer and then again in the winter. While she was familiar with the children from church, Priscilla didn’t know them very well. She hoped that they were nicer than their cousin, that was for sure and certain.
At a quarter to nine, she walked through the door and called the children inside to get settled into their places. She felt nervous as she stood before the class, her palms sweating as she felt twenty pairs of eyes on her. Twenty children were watching her and wondering what type of teacher she would be. Priscilla was thinking the same exact thing.
“Gut mariye,”she said as she took a deep breath.“I will be your teacher for the rest of the term. I know all of you from church so I do not need introductions. Your teacher left me detailed plans for the next few weeks, but I will be asking all of you to help me become familiar with your regularroutine.”
She looked round and no one spoke. They continued to stare at her, their eyes large and wide. Even Katie and Ben seemed to be watching her with a mixture of curiosity and awe.
“So, I think we should get started with a silent prayer and then a singing of a hymn,”Priscilla said.
The room fell silent and every head bowed as the children prayed their silent prayers. Priscilla said her own prayer, praying for the Lord to guide her as she taught these children. She wanted to know patience and compassion and understanding. Teaching these children was a large responsibility. Their parents entrusted her with far more than just their education. The children were like small vessel and it was her job to help fill them with good values and godly morals. Priscilla was truly humbled by the honor to do so. Now, she thought, if only God will walk beside me so that I can fulfill this duty to the best of my ability.
As soon as the morning prayer ended, Priscilla looked up and surveyed the classroom. All eyes stared at her, the children waiting for her guidance. Hoping she didn’t sound nervous, she cleared her throat.“I think it would be right gut to start the day with a singing of the last two verses of Morning Thoughts. Do you know this song?”
She already knew the answer to that question. It was a lovely children’s poem set to a tune that had been sung in the schoolhouse for years. It held the essence of what the Amish called Gelassenheit, the foundation of their religion calling for the believers to think of God first, others second, and themselves last.
So, when the children nodded their heads, she smiled brightly.“That’s wunderbaar gut! Shall we begin, then?”
I must be a Christian child, gentle, patient, meek and mild.
Must be honest, simple and true, in my words and actions, too.
I must cheerfully obey, giving up my will and way;
Must not always be thinking of what is pleasantest to me;
But must try kind things to do, and make others happy, too.
If a playmate treats me ill, I must be forgiving still;
I must learn my lessons well, not my schoolmates to excel,
But because my heart’s delight is in doing what is right.
And in all I do and say, in my lessons and my play,
Must remember God can view all I think and all I do;
Glad that He can know I try, glad that children such as I,
In our feeble ways, and small, can serve Him who loves us all. [8]
When the children had finished singing the song, Priscilla smiled at them.“That was right lovely,”she said.“And those are words that we can all reflect upon. Doing what is right makes us happy, deep inside our hearts, because God knows everythingthat we think as well as all that we do.”
Silence.
“Now, let us approach our lessons today with that same attitude of patience and cheerful obedience,”she continued. “I’d like to start with the younger kinner among you, class. Since we are to practice our English in the morning, I thought we’d begin with reading this story from the Young Companion. While we are doing just that, the older students can begin writing an essay on what it means to be a Christian child.”
The younger children came to the front of the room as Priscilla walked over to the bookshelves to select a copy of the Young Companion. She saw the cover and smiled. It was from last winter, a lovely story called Bridled Thoughts, about a young girl who tried not to speak poorly of others but worried that her thoughts were not as pure as her actions.
“This is a gutstory to practice our English,”she said.“Let’s start with Katie.”Priscilla smiled at her niece. Handing her the magazine, Priscilla urged Katie to take it.“Could you read the first paragraph?”
Katie took the magazine and glanced down at the article.“ ‘The last notes of the parting hymn faded away. A stir filled the room as friends turned to chat with each other before heading home[9].’ ”
“That was lovely, Katie. Now tell me, what is the verb of that first sentence?”
“Faded?”
“Very good!”Priscilla beamed.“Now, let’s have Morgan Byler take the next turn.”
Katie hesitated, glancing first at Morgan, a small blond haired boy standing next to her, then back at Priscilla.“Morgan?”
“That’s what I said,”Priscilla responded.
With a big sigh, Katie handed him the magazine. Reluctantly, he took it from her and glanced down at the story.“You want me to read this?”he asked.
“Go on now.”
He swallowed and held the paper before his face. He seemed to study the words but no sound came out of his mouth.“I…I can’t make out the words,”he said meekly, almost apologetic.
Katie raised her hand.
Priscilla ignored herand directed her attention toward the boy.“What do you mean that you can’t make out the words?”
“They…they just look all jumbled to me. They don’t make no sense,”he said, averting his eyes. He looked ashamed and Priscilla felt her heart break. Something was wrong and she wasn’t certain she could help the boy. But she knew that she would certainly try.
“Teacher!”Katie called out. She didn’t wait for Priscilla to give her permission to speak.“Our other teacher always has Morgan copy passages to help him learn his words.”
Priscilla took the magazine from Morgan and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.“Never you mind, Morgan. You and I will work together later this morning. We can see if that helps, ja?”
He looked relieved that he didn’t have to read anymore in front of the classroom.“Danke, Teacher,”he said, his voice full of gratitude. Clearly, he didn’t like being the center of attention in front of the other students.
Later that day, when the other children were outside during recess, Priscilla spent some time with Morgan, trying to help him with his reading. She even asked him to copy down the sentences that he was trying to read. When she looked at the paper, she was shocked to see that, indeed, the wor
ds were jumbled up. Instead of the word‘the’, he had written‘teh’. Instead of the word‘hymn’, he had written‘hmyn’. She had never seen anything like this before, that was for sure and certain.
“Well, we’ll keep working on this,”she said gently.“And, Morgan?”
He looked up, tears in his eyes.“Ja?”
“You have lovely penmanship. The finest I’ve seen in a long time,”she said with a warm and caring smile.
The little boy looked up at her, his eyes wide and a grin rapidly spreading across his face.“Really?”
“Really!”she laughed.
“Oh, danke, Teacher!”he gushed.
He ran out of the school to join his friends in the yard. She walked over to the window and peeked outside, watching the children as they ran back and forth, chasing each other. Two of the little girls were playing on the seesaw, laughing in delight. The sounds of their voices and laughter warmed Priscilla’s heart. She had never known such joy as she had that morning.
Indeed, she was looking forward to teaching these wonderful children over the next several weeks.
Chapter Three
To Priscilla’s relief, she found that the students were quite cooperative and calm. She didn’t have any problems with them during the school day. Even more impressive, Priscilla found that she enjoyed teaching. When she could help the children solve a problem or improve their writing and spelling, she felt a great sense of accomplishment.
She began to fall into a routine that balanced schoolwork and her chores at home. It wasn’t too much extra work at all, she thought after that first week. Plus, her joy at working with the children and listening to their clever questions and funny stories were always adding an enjoying touch to the family conversations during the evening meal.
Before she knew it, three weeks had passed. When she had shut the school doors on Friday afternoon, she had looked around at the pretty flowers that the children had planted that week by the walkway. It had been an experiment that she had come up with on her own to explain the importance of education. Like flowers, education needed to be nurtured and cared for with love, attention, and food: books.
“Priscilla,”she heard someone call out.
To her surprise, Stephen stood under the large oak tree beside his buggy.
“Stephen!”she exclaimed, a smile breaking onto her face. She hadn’t been able to spend much time with him since she had begun teaching. While she worked extra hard to help her mamm in the evenings and on Saturdays with chores, Stephen was busy helping his own daed with the barn work and also tending his own farm. This past weekend, she hadn’t seen him at all. But he had mailed her a letter, explaining that he was working on some projects that would hinder his weekly visit on Saturday.
“Thought I’d come and visit with the teacher. Mayhaps take her home after school!”he teased.
She flushed, pleased that he was so thoughtful.“That would be right kind, Stephen Esh!”
He helped her into the buggy and, once she was situated, climbed up next to her. His skin was tanned from working outdoors and he looked happy.“How you like the new job, Priscilla?”he asked as the buggy started to roll forward toward the road.
“Oh Stephen,”she gushed.“It’s ever so wunderbaar! I just can believe how blessed I am!”
He laughed at her enthusiasm.“You are almost a mother to those children, ja? Guiding their learning and their values. I am sure that they all appreciate what they are learning from you. Their parents, too!”
“Even little Katie and Ben have been right gut!”She lowered her voice as she added,“I confess to worrying that they might try to take advantage of our relationship.”
“Not those two!”he said, chuckling.“Well, come to think of it…maybe a little, they might.”
She put her hand on his arm.“Oh but they haven’t. Not one bit! Today at lunchtime, I even had a small study session to help two of the Byler children. I was worried that they might harbor some ill will toward me because of…”Her voice trailed off and she averted her eyes. She didn’t want to mention Susie Byler’s name. That would be gossiping.“But they haven’t. They are truly good children, although I’m worried about the younger one, Morgan is his name, who seems to get his letters mixed up. I think he might have a slight learning disability.”
At this, Stephen frowned.“You mean like a real disability?”
She nodded.“I don’t know much about it but I’ve heard there are special techniques to help children who mix up their letters. Maybe Daed or the bishop could help me learn more about it.”
“I sure hope that, if there is something wrong, you can help correct it,”Stephen said. “Have you thought about speaking to Linda Byler? That’s his mamm’s name, ja?”
Truth be told, Priscilla had thought about going there but wasn’t comfortable visiting any Byler farm. She shook her head and averted her eyes.“I’d rather the bishop talk to her. Or, at least, the other teacher.”
Stephen frowned. Clearly something was on his mind.“The longer you wait, the longer it will take to get the student help, no?”
There was merit to what he said.“That is true,”she admitted.
“But I understand your reluctance to go to the Bylers and discuss such a problem,”he said.
She shook her head.“I’m not looking forward to that, ja,”she said slowly, trying to pick her words carefully.“But even more importantly, I’m not the regular teacher. If I make such suggestions, they might be misinterpreted. People might think I’m trying to show up the other teacher who may not have noticed.”
“Hadn’t thought of that,”Stephen admitted, frowning as he stared straight ahead.
For a moment, he seemed deep in thought. He was pondering a solution and Priscilla gave him that time to think. She glanced out of the window at the fields, so perfectly plowed and planted. Green shoots were starting to poke up from the brown furrows of rich soil. If she shut her eyes, she could smell the fresh scent of the earth better.
“I have an idea!”When Stephen spoke, she opened her eyes and returned her attention to him. He was smiling, pleased that he may have found a solution.“Why not write a letter and I can deliver it to the bishop on your behalf? I’m sure to see him before you do, anyway. He can take the letter to the Byler’s for you!”
That was the perfect solution! Priscilla clapped her hands together once and smiled, relieved that she could do her duty, both to the struggling student and to her role as a teacher without having to visit the Byler farm.“That’s a right gutidea, Stephen!”she said.“This way, he can discuss my observations with the regular teacher and they can decide what to do, if anything. I’m just a stand-in teacher, anyway. It should be their decision, ja?”
When they arrived back at Priscilla’s home, she hurried inside to draft the letter. Stephen waited outside by the buggy while she sat at the kitchen table, carefully writing her thoughts about the struggling Byler boy and how he kept mixing up his numbers and letters in math and spelling. She described her own little knowledge about learning disabilities plus what she had read from a book in the schoolhouse. She closed the letter by asking the bishop to determine with the regular teacher whether or not her concerns were valid before speaking with the student’s parents.
She reread the letter twice and felt that she had fulfilled her duty as a teacher while protecting herself from anyone thinking that she was prideful. It’s a gut letter, she told herself as she folded the white piece of paper and slid it into an envelope.
“Here it is,”she said as she handed the envelope to Stephen.“I’m ever so grateful for you to take it to him,”she said.“I just hope that there is something they can do to help Morgan.”
Stephen took the envelope and tapped it against the side of his hand.“Ach vell, at least you tried and that is the first step to solving any problem,”he said with a smile.“Now, I must get going. I’ll stop by the bishop’s farm first but I have my evening chores to do and want to stop at my own farm, too.”
She wat
ched as he turned to leave, pausing once as he stopped by the side of the buggy to wave to her.
When he was gone, she stared in the direction that he had disappeared. She was ever so glad that he had suggested writing that letter for the bishop. It would ease her mind to know that someone who was better suited to identify a possible problem with Morgan would be involved. She only prayed that something could be done so that the boy could, one day, read properly.
Chapter Four
It was Sunday before church services when Priscilla heard the first compliments. During the greeting line, when the women entered and shook hands with all of the other women, placing a gentle kiss on their lips, one of the older women smiled and patted Priscilla’s arm.
“I heard what a fine job you are doing at the school,”Esther said.“Fine job, indeed!”
Priscilla blushed from the praise but didn’t have time to say that she was only doing what the regular teacher asked her to do. The compliment had taken her by surprise. She wasn’t used to hearing such praise. Yet, since she knew all of the children and their families, it did please her that they seemed to be happy with her efforts to guide their children through their learning while teaching them values and godliness.
When the Millers arrived, Priscilla noticed that Naomi barely spoke to her and gave her a very short, limp handshake before moving down the line and standing next to her cousin, Dorothy, who had already gone through the line. Priscilla frowned, recognizing the cold shoulder from Naomi and the fierce glare from Dorothy.
What did I supposedly do this time, she wondered.
Priscilla remembered only too well how Naomi had pretended to be her friend during the quilting bee two winters ago. Yet, it had been Naomi who had reported information about Priscilla’s quilt pattern to Susie Byler. Susie had started a big commotion within the community, claiming Priscilla had stolen her pattern. Not once did Naomi apologize for her role in not only aiding the bullying but also for not sticking up for Priscilla.