My Dearest Naomi

by Jerry

  I said to Don, “Listen, I don’t feel very well, and I’d rather stay home. So why don’t you go by yourself?”

  Don shrugged because he didn’t care one way or the other either. Betsy, who was also going, threw a fit. But I still wouldn’t have gone if Adam and Brenda, with Julia riding with them, hadn’t driven up right then. They saw I wasn’t planning to go. Adam said, “Oh, come on, Naomi!” and this and that until I climbed into our buggy. We caravanned to the gathering.

  After we arrived, we walked all over town, stopping to sing at only two places because nobody else was at home. So my instincts had been correct. I should have stayed home.

  Guess what? We have received a wedding present already. Someone I used to work for gave us a silver tea set. He said he wanted to give it to me when I married, but now he is getting married. They have two of everything, so he thought he’d give me the present now. That’s strange since his place is the one I liked to work at the least.

  I used to clean for him before I started dating you. His first wife was still living then, and they had the messiest house you ever saw. Anyway, I never thought I’d own something that’s made of silver.

  Tuesday evening…

  I received one of your longed-for letters today. When Mom told me yesterday that it was a mail holiday because of Columbus Day, I was quite disappointed. You don’t know how much I look forward to your letters.

  You did scare me a little because you sounded so down. Is everything okay? I’m glad you continue writing regardless of how you feel.

  When I think of how much you love me, I certainly don’t feel worthy of it—more overwhelmed than anything else. I was happy to hear that you think God still forgives us of our faults because He surely does, otherwise there would be little hope for any of us.

  The young folks are going to sing on Friday night for an Englisha neighbor, Mr. Burns, who has cancer. That should make for an interesting and worthwhile time.

  Oh no! I have gotten carried away with my writing. It’s past ten already. Nine was supposed to be my self-imposed deadline for bed tonight.

  By the way, I don’t get bored with your letters, and the longer they are the better. My love will never cease for you, and you should never fear. I also treasure the memories of our times together. I just can’t write the way you do, but you have to remember that the very things you treasure about me, I also treasure about you. In a different way, no doubt, but I treasure them all the same.

  I could go on writing if I had the right words, but I don’t. So goodnight for now.

  I love you,

  Naomi

  October 13

  Dearest Naomi,

  I was surprised and thrilled at finding another letter from you when I arrived home tonight. Your letters mean so much to me, and I look for them with great eagerness. And interestingly enough, the last two got switched around somehow, so I guess the mailman isn’t perfect. I also received the card today, which is very beautiful.

  Did I tell you the second batch of sparrows from the school project were dead the other morning? They died suddenly overnight for no known reason, so I have given up. There will be no more sparrows.

  The mouse is doing fine, though, but we still haven’t caught anymore. The children are still looking. Perhaps the survival rate of this one is higher because it is a field mouse. I caught a house mouse in Lonnie’s garage last week with a live trap. I put it in with the field mouse. They spat at each other and looked ready for murder, so I didn’t dare leave them together even for one night. So that venture failed. I took the house mouse outside and let it go.

  Today I had Dena, one of the eight-graders, take some of the minor responsibilities off my shoulders. She had free time and looked bored, so I had her take the first graders to the blackboard to practice writing and recognizing the numbers from 1 to 1000.

  Tomorrow I will work with them myself. I prefer that rather than letting someone else do it, but today I had social studies and that’s always a hassle. So while I was up front teaching fifth grade social studies, Dena was at the board on the other end of the room writing down numbers for the first graders.

  I was trying to keep my eyes on both places at the same time, glancing back and forth. When we had finished checking papers and were ready to read, I told the class to start. While I was looking back at the board, absorbed in watching what they were doing, the fifth-grade class burst out laughing. I quickly snapped my gaze back to them. They were wanting to know who was supposed to read next but noticed I was intent on looking at the first-grade class in back. They got a good laugh out of that.

  Little Lydia has had an awful time with her vocabulary, struggling with even the simplest of words. On the fourth lesson this year, her grade was down in the forties. I took her aside that day, telling her that it’s time to do something about the problem. The poor girl. I asked her why she doesn’t look up the words in the dictionary, and she said, “Because I don’t understand what it says.” She didn’t say it sassily, but in her usual cheerful manner, as if things simply were so and nothing could be done about it.

  I have been going over the words with her the last two weeks, showing her how to match them up in the dictionary and explaining the words she doesn’t understand. From her improved grade this week, I believe that aid helped. The fact that she doesn’t know words shows up in reading class. Today we were reading in social studies, and she didn’t know what “rapid” meant.

  Well, it’s about 6:00 so Luella will have supper ready soon. Tomorrow morning Lonnie and Luella will be fasting because they have communion on Sunday. I’ll fast too, even if I’m not participating in communion.

  With all my heart and love,

  Eugene

  October 15

  My dearest, beloved Eugene,

  This letter finds me tired and feeling so-so. Ada brought us two jugs of cider from the young folks’ cider pressing the other night. I knew it was good because I had some that evening. Now Dad wants popcorn to go with it, so I’ll bring the popper out soon. This will be a popcorn and cider night around here.

  Don went with the young folks to sing at the Englisha neighbor’s place. I finally gave out, and said I wasn’t going since I didn’t feel well. I guess I need another good letter from you to cheer me up, but there was none in the mailbox today.

  We’re supposed to have frost in the morning. The weather is so unpredictable this time of year, we never know what it is going to do next. Tomorrow, if it’s still nice, Betsy and I are planning to help Elena Marshall rake her leaves and get her flowerbeds fixed up.

  Rumor has it that Richard and Joan are planning to begin milking by spring. He’s already doing work on the barn. They moved to a place on the south side of the community. I don’t see how in the world they can afford to start milking, but Don said Richard gets $16 an hour for painting jobs, so he must have money saved up. Dad says it’s hard for young people to start out farming and make a go of it with the way milk prices are.

  Robert’s Rosemary had the flu bad enough she had to be in the hospital for a day, but she’s older, so maybe that was the reason she had such a bad case. I am good and depressed as I battle the flu bug, but thankfully there is no need for hospitalization. That’s not really funny, I know.

  I miss you so much. I sit here thinking how nice it would be to see you and have a good talk again. One of the girls who is dating talked with me last Sunday evening. She thinks it’s bad when she doesn’t get to see her boyfriend throughout the week. I could have laughed at her, but I remember I used to feel the same way. I told her you don’t know how glad you can be to see someone until you actually experience a long separation.

  I don’t know what more to write except to remind you that I love you very, very much.

  How I miss you,

  Naomi

  October 16

  My dearest Naomi,

  “We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; cast
down, but not destroyed” (2 Corinthians 4:8-9).

  It’s around noon. I have been at the schoolhouse the whole forenoon working on report cards. Last Saturday Lonnie had me painting the barn buildings, but today he had fieldwork to do. Partly because of that and partly because of report card week, I’m here at work on a Saturday.

  School has been in session for six weeks now, which means it’s seven weeks since I left Indiana. That seems like ages, dear, and if God hadn’t given me the strength to bear it, I know it would have been even harder.

  I counted the other day, and there are ten more weeks until Christmas and seventeen weeks of school after that. But who wants to think of that mountain still to climb?

  Most of the pupils are getting good grades, but I don’t think it’s because of me. They are smart pupils. Lydia has really improved in vocabulary for the last two grades sessions. I continue to keep a close eye on her and help where I can. It seems she may be catching on. I sure hope so. Her average in vocabulary for the six weeks came out to sixty-six. Seventy is the dividing line. I sometimes make them redo something that goes below that, but for vocabulary I never have. Mostly because it’s in workbook form, and they can use dictionaries so there’s no need for second chances.

  Yesterday I had a little episode with one of the first graders. Brandon and Mark are always laughing with each other and carrying on while they’re supposed to be working. This time they were showing each other their work and having a great laugh over it. I told Mark to quiet down, but I had no sooner turned around then he was going into high gear again. I thought of telling him if he didn’t quit I would do something—I wasn’t sure what. But a teacher shouldn’t threaten, I figured. I didn’t say anything, allowing them to carry on while I tried to think what I could do.

  I had a spelling class in session, so it wasn’t the best time to deal with anything else. When that class was over, I settled on a solution. The children have seats that can be moved around, and Mark sits in the front row. So I walked up behind him while he was carrying on. He didn’t see me coming. I took the back of his chair in my hands and turned him around so he faced backward. I whispered in his ear that this was his punishment for not being quiet. Also, I said this way he didn’t have to turn around to talk with his friends.

  He put his head down on his desk, burying his face in his arms. I left him there for five minutes or so before turning him back around. It worked quite dandily, if I must say so myself. He was quiet for the rest of the day and hasn’t had discussions with his classmates during schooltime since.

  Sunday afternoon…

  It’s 4:00, and we had visitors for dinner. They are still downstairs talking with Lonnie and Luella. Tonight some of the young people are attending the singing at the church we went to last month. I’m really looking forward to going again. I think it’s the same deal as last time. Some of the young folks aren’t going because they want to stay and play volleyball. I want to hear the singing.

  One of the visitors today for dinner was a girl who attends Goshen College. She spent some time in Central America working in the missions communities. She could talk some Spanish, she said.

  The younger couple had a little girl along, about three years old or so. All during dinner the man made the biggest fuss over her, cooing and giving her attention. She was kind of cute, so I could understand why.

  They had communion at church today. They do everything the same as we do except it’s in a much shorter time span. Church started at 9:30, which is thirty minutes earlier than usual, with a short devotional following. The bishop got up next, starting right in on the main sermon. He doesn’t give the sermon from memory. He read from the twenty-sixth chapter of Matthew, straight through the crucifixion story, doing very little expounding.

  When they pass the bread around, two ministers walk through the congregation with plates, breaking off pieces from the loaf and handing the bread to people in their seats. For the wine they did the same thing, two ministers passing the cup, one for the men’s side, and one for the women’s side.

  The foot washing was done in about the same time frame. Everything was over by 12:10, which is much sooner than the usual 4:00 in the afternoon for an Amish communion service.

  I don’t think I told you that we went for a walk on Thursday with the schoolchildren. It was my attempt at breaking their boredom. That would be theirs, not mine. They don’t have nearly as much work as I do. On the way, we picked up small things for the nature table—fall leaves, oak branches, and berry twigs.

  By the way, I did get more sparrows in again. One of the schoolchildren brought one in yesterday and two today. I should have stood my ground because one died already, the poor thing, but the other two seem to be eating well, so maybe they will survive.

  I miss you, dear.

  Eugene

  October 17

  Dearest Eugene,

  Greetings in our dear Savior’s name.

  This finds me up in my room writing away. I walked home this afternoon from church soon after the second batch of people were at the tables because I made it in on the first round. You never know how things will go. There have been times when I haven’t gotten on until the third table, especially if the house is a little small, and they can’t set up a lot of tables.

  By the way, your sister Heidi said all the females at their house have been on diets all week, which depressed me. I guess I should go on one, but who likes diets? I’ll just try to watch my eating closer. That will do it, hopefully.

  I spent some time outside this afternoon leading Laddie around. I can tell from the look in Dad’s eyes he’s seeing dollar signs from the coming sale of the colt, which has to happen, I know. I’ve gotten really attached to him, that’s all.

  There was an Englisha boy at church today. One of the girls said his name is Darrell Hooley, and that he’s staying at Harvey’s place. He wants to join a community and is checking out the possibilities.

  Daniel and Lydia are really going on with their courtship. At least according to what the others say. It’s said that they’re acting like they’re already going steady, and I suppose they will be pretty soon. Don said Friday night that he saw them together as much as the other steadies, if not more. I say good for them, as it suits me just fine. I think they make a good pair, and you never had any business dating Lydia in the first place, whatever your excuse was. There, that is said.

  Some news events this Sunday were as follows. Sharon, Martha, and Ruth all had cape and apron suits on for the first time. On the singing front, someone must have decided it was time because David Miller sang the praise song for the first time. John Yoder had to start the first line for him, though. David didn’t do too badly from then on, but his voice was rather weak. I suppose I’d be a bit weak too if I had to do the song. I miss the power and beauty of your voice when you led the praise song. I cried a little in the middle of the song thinking about it, but then I stopped when I became afraid someone would notice.

  Melvin and Johnny were here today as visiting ministers from the other district. Johnny had the first part and Melvin the second. I appreciate the way Johnny preaches. He is meek and includes himself in what he says. He often stresses the point that we are not to be too hard on other people but to look at ourselves first. I often wish I could be more like that. His daughter Barbara is such a good example. You hardly ever hear her talking about or putting other people down to the last notch.

  Stan Yoder’s family and the Richards are leaving for a sudden Montana trip on Tuesday. It’s for a visit to relatives, though I don’t know how long they will stay.

  Today we had a really beautiful day, with the first frost on the ground this morning. I miss you awfully, especially after the praise song episode. I didn’t feel like I could smile all day, and when I did, the attempt felt plastic. We girls sat behind the men, and I watched the young wives as they brought their children to their husbands. I thought how great they had it that they can be together practically all the time. I also thoug
ht about what our children would look like, perhaps a little like you or a little like both of us? Would he be calm or active?

  I hope it won’t be too many weeks until I can see you. What a joy that will be, even though the pain of parting will be hard again.

  I love you dearly,

  Naomi

  October 18

  My dearest Naomi,

  “A bruised reed shall he not break, and the smoking flax shall he not quench” (Isaiah 42:3). I have been repeating this verse a couple of times a day. It’s a great comfort to me, showing us how God deals with those He loves.

  I received your letter today, the one you wrote on Friday evening. You say so many nice things, all of which warm my heart.

  There was a letter from my mom today. I guess she wants to keep checking up on me. But I suppose that’s what moms are all about.

  I have some questions for you to answer sometime…whenever you get to it.

  No. 1: What do you see as the most important thing that you want out of marriage?

  No. 2: What do you mean when you say “I love you”?

  I’m kind of blue right now, but I hold you very close to my heart. Take care, and I will write more some other day.

  And I love you,

  Eugene

  October 18

  Hello, my dearest Eugene,

  Oh, what a day! I feel like I’ve been run through the mill. We had hay this evening—two loads of it. Dad drove the baler, dropping the hay on the ground. Betsy drove the team, while Don stacked the wagon. Rosanna and I pitched the bales up. There was so much trouble with the baler that we didn’t get the whole field done. Now our elevator isn’t working, so Don drove right into the barn, throwing the bales up to us in the mow by hand. Talk about work…dragging those bales around. Ugh!

  Mom and Betsy helped in the haymow for a while, but Mom is older and Betsy is a young girl, so Don and I ended up doing the second load by ourselves. I guess I shouldn’t complain because the bales were lighter than they are sometimes.