My Dearest Naomi

by Jerry

  We hung all the decorations at school, and things look really nice, if I say so myself. The schoolhouse shines with real Christmas spirit. I’d still like to make more decorations, but it’s got to stop somewhere.

  Work, work, and more work, but it keeps me sane.

  Love you,

  Eugene

  December 9

  My dearest Eugene,

  Greetings of Christian love.

  I will try to write neatly, but I’m very tired so don’t expect much. Dad left a gate open in the barn, and our two horses decided to venture forth all the way to the back fields. It was a long walk to get them all in, plus doing our regular chores.

  I had my eyes checked this forenoon, and they are about the same as last time. Mom still had me order new glasses with plastic lenses. I never thought I would buy plastic lenses since they scratch so easily, but these are supposed to be 48 percent lighter than glass, so maybe that will make them easier to tolerate.

  This afternoon I worked at the Bachs’ again. Yesterday she had me there because she wanted to go to town. Today she went to play bridge. I’m learning to tolerate that dog a little better. He actually lifted his chops and looked at me.

  The new sidewalks look pretty nice. Tonight I walked all the way around the barn and danced a little jig. You should have seen me! I knew Larry and Don were around somewhere, but I thought they were behind the shop. They weren’t. So they got a good laugh out of my antics. Can you imagine me dancing on a concrete sidewalk?

  I’m looking forward to Christmas. Really looking forward to it.

  Your Naomi

  December 12

  My dearest Eugene,

  “The LORD bless thee, and keep thee” (Numbers 6:24).

  My letters might not be very dependable for a while. I write three times a week, but with everything so hectic I probably won’t get them out evenly. I’m going to try though.

  The people out there must like Florida a lot. It seems like they are making extra work for you, as if you didn’t already have enough.

  We had a good day at church yesterday, even with the cold weather. There was a visiting minister whom I liked. He preached the main sermon. He’s much younger than Dad, but could he ever talk. Everybody liked him, from what the girls said afterward. I don’t think anyone slept while he preached. Not even Katherine Yoder, who, as you know, dozes off right when the first note is sung. Well, that’s a little exaggerated.

  The minister spoke on grace. I didn’t know anyone could preach so much on grace and not get boring, but he did. And I couldn’t believe the way he knew his Scripture.

  Dad asked afterward, “How can anyone memorize so much?”

  At one point he said that grace is a gift and has no strings attached. Like God doesn’t say if you do so and so, I will give you grace. The minister said grace is ready for you to take. And he stressed very much that everybody is equal in the eyes of God. We all come to Him with our needs and not to give anything.

  The minister said we choose to sin, and he gave anger as an example. When you are out in the barn and something happens, you can get so mad. When the door opens though and someone comes in, you’re immediately fine, with the anger all gone. That’s because we choose to stop. That wasn’t a pleasant thought, but I agree with him.

  He also explained the verse to me where it says that if we walk in the Spirit we will not sin. He said, “Sure, while you’re in the Spirit you don’t sin. It’s staying with God that’s difficult.” He said that being tempted is not sin, it’s when we choose to give in to temptation. He had a lot more to say, but I can’t remember everything. I do know his sermon was one of the highlights of the day.

  Church was at Robert’s, and I drove to and from the hymn singing with Don. I’m sure he’s starting to eye some girl, but he won’t tell me who. It’s really none of my business anyway. We used the surrey in the morning, of course, and then Don used his buggy in the evening. He’s got a nice horse, but not as nice as yours.

  I’m getting a little out of sorts with this mail business. Pretty soon my letters might go to Texas if they’re already going through Gary, Indiana.

  I hope you are better from your bug.

  I love you much,

  Naomi

  December 14

  Dear Naomi,

  Last night I broke down and went to the chiropractor for my aching leg. Luella kept after me until I gave in. You would have thought I was all broken in pieces from how the chiropractor carried on. And only his healing touch could ever mend the parts. He cracked and pushed and did his thing and called me better for the moment. He claimed my left hip was out of place, as well as three vertebrae in my neck. He said my jogging hasn’t been helping things. I’m supposed to go back next week, of which I have no intention of doing.

  For the past two mornings we’ve been practicing the Christmas program with the stage and curtain up. We put the curtain back and forth with every speaker change. I’m not satisfied with the sound of the children’s singing, but there doesn’t seem to be much I can do about it.

  Tomorrow night the young folks will make fruit baskets to pass out when they go Christmas caroling. Then Tuesday evening I have asked Lonnie and Luella to help me hang the last-minute decorations in the schoolhouse windows. Friday night is the program.

  I’m hoping you are full of wedding ideas when I come home…or is this too soon?

  I love you,

  Eugene

  December 15

  My dearest Eugene,

  Don dropped me off a few minutes ago from our evening at the young folks’ gathering. We were putting shelves in at Monroe’s store, and I rather enjoyed it. I worked with the new girl who will be moving into the community. The family is here for a week and will be back permanently after Christmas sometime. Her name is Sarah, and what a girl! She’s nice, friendly, witty, and only five months older than I am.

  Your sisters weren’t there, as well as some of the other young folks. Even with all the young people we have, a few being absent makes a noticeable difference. We almost didn’t have the gathering because of the weather. It was raining, cold, and nasty this evening. I think it’s been raining all day, and it’s still coming down. All the snow on the ground is gone. There’s nothing in the fields but brown grass and water running in the ditches.

  I worked at Mrs. Bach’s this afternoon. Their dog was run over yesterday on the road by some driver speeding by, so no more dog. He was a nasty piece of work, even though he did finally deem me worthy of a look the other day. I felt sorry for Mrs. Bach, who had tears in her eyes while she was telling me the story. Dad had come in the morning to fix her front door, and he told me she cried telling him the story. I guess I would cry too if our dog died. It’s just that ours is a nice dog. But I suppose you would get attached to your dog—even if he is nasty.

  Yesterday Dad borrowed Richard’s Bobcat to pour stone in our mud pit, and Don was helping him grind feed. Anyway, the motor stopped on the Bobcat, and Dad had the loader up. In order to get out, he put his hand out on the frame. Out of habit, he moved the other hand, lowering the loader. The shaft came down right on his hand. He yelled for help, but Don couldn’t hear him above the roar of the tractor.

  Dad tried to start the motor, but couldn’t. After some time, he saw Robert’s Joseph coming down the road with their Bobcat, and Dad waved with all his might for him to stop in. Which he did, running first to Dad, and then going for help from Don. Together they pried the loader up far enough so Dad could get his hand out. We think it was under there for a good half hour.

  Dad said it seemed like an hour. He came into the house, looking the hand over. No one thinks there are any bones broken. The hand looks gross, but Dad won’t go to the doctor. Mom got him to soak the hand in salt water and then bandaged it for him. He went back outside to work, and Don has gone to help make wood for Junior this afternoon.

  Junior either has had, or will have, another operation. Anyway, I was Dad’s left hand all afternoon. We clean
ed the boards from the sidewalks and fixed the one shaft on the single buggy.

  I received one of your wonderful letters today. By the way, I’m glad you act like a little boy sometimes because I most certainly don’t always act grown up.

  It’s a little after midnight, so I’d better sign off. How I look forward to Christmas and talking about our wedding.

  I love you much,

  Naomi

  December 15

  Beloved Naomi,

  Greetings of Christian love.

  The time is around 4:30, but I’m home from school already. There doesn’t seem to be that much work at the school right now, which is strange with the Christmas program coming up. I must have worked ahead further than I thought.

  There was no letter from you when I arrived home, which was disappointing to say the least, but maybe the mailman is to blame. I hope it’s not for some other reason.

  Tomorrow morning will be the last time we practice the program. The children want to practice again Friday morning, but I said no. I think they will be fresher for the evening’s presentation if they haven’t gone through the program earlier in the day.

  Dena wasn’t in school today for some reason. I sure hope she shows up for the school program on Friday night, but with her I never can tell.

  I checked today on where I am with the first-grade reading schedule because I have been pushing them hard. We still have fifty stories to go and at least sixty-four days to read them in, so I should have time to spare. At least that’s better than being behind. The third, fourth, and fifth grades are behind in their arithmetic. I’ll have to remember that after Christmas and keep pushing.

  It’s hard to keep track of everything, but I do know which subjects can be pushed easily and which can’t.

  I’ve been thinking about writing a story that has been running through my head the past few days. So far I haven’t gotten up enough nerve to try. Where the idea came from, I don’t know. It must have fallen out of the sky, although that’s not quite possible. The story is about a man who is forbidden to ever see the girl he loves again.

  Lonnie and Luella have gone to see their granddaughter, who is in the hospital. They are quite concerned, and there were whispers of bone cancer tonight at the supper table. The doctor’s reports aren’t back, so perhaps it won’t be that at all. Luella is very attached to the girl, as she is to all her grandchildren. Even Lonnie gets into the grandchild thing, though he doesn’t like to show it. He says when the grandchildren are around he doesn’t get any attention from Luella. On those days, he says, he wishes he were a grandchild.

  I had Duane come up to the schoolhouse this morning. We practiced moving the curtains back and forth on the platform. It went okay.

  Last night the young folks had a gathering to assemble Christmas fruit baskets. It was held at Saul’s, with pizza served. The whole thing lasting until midnight. Whoa…that is the hour Amish dating ceases on a Sunday night, and you weren’t even here. What a shame.

  I walked home in the pitch-black darkness with the stars ablaze overhead. It was beautiful, to say the least—about as beautiful as you are but not quite. I tried to imagine that you were with me, but I didn’t get very far. I hope to see you soon.

  With all my heart,

  Eugene

  December 17

  Dear Eugene,

  Dad and Mom are home late from a two-day trip to northern Indiana. Mom’s stepgrandmother’s funeral was today.

  Guess what she brought back? My wedding dress…or rather the material for it. I still have to sew it, of course.

  Mom says the groom is not to know what the material looks like, and that the bride should look fresh and new on the wedding day. She even said you shouldn’t know the color of my dress, which I said was a bunch of baloney. I don’t stand for such superstition, but then…perhaps I’d better keep it a secret? So don’t ask.

  She also brought back material for the two witness’s dresses. I’ll explain how all this came about at Christmas, but seeing that wedding dress material got me all up in the air again.

  Love you much,

  Naomi

  December 18

  Dearest Naomi,

  This is Saturday morning, an hour before we start out on a day trip to an Amish community at Fairfield. I guess I will get to see my kind again, although I don’t mind being around Mennonites. Another couple, about the same age as Lonnie and Luella, is traveling with us. At least those are the facts I have been informed of.

  The school program is history as of last night. It always seemed so far away, like it would never come, and now it’s past. I never did get as scared as I expected I would. So much for fears that don’t come to fruition. I think, in fact, from the reaction of the people afterward, that it was a smash hit.

  I did get a little nervous when I stood up on the stage to introduce the evening. One of the parents later said I looked calm. Well, perhaps, but that was on the outside.

  I wasn’t planning to help with the singing but Dena, who was the assigned song leader and the one everyone looks up to for support, didn’t show. She sent word she was sick, but I think other reasons were involved—like sabotage. What is it with these emotional girls?

  Anyway, the children went into hysterics, especially the other eighth-grade girl, Crystal. I told them to calm down because I would help them sing. I would also lead the songs. So I did, keeping my voice toned down in order to blend in with the children’s voices. I kept hoping all night it was working.

  Afterward several of the parents said they were glad I helped sing, that my voice didn’t really stand out too much.

  Below is the program schedule. Each spelled out word has either poems or songs attached to the letter, but you probably know that already. I gave them a taste of an Amish school program. Luella said afterward she had been telling the teachers for years to put on this type of Christmas program, but I guess no one ever would. I’m not sure what they normally do—something about plays—I suppose.

  The strange thing is, we placed the Christmas tree right smack in the middle of the platform. That tree had bothered me no end—no matter where I set it in the schoolhouse, there it was. So the solution finally occurred to me. I placed what you don’t want to see where everyone sees it, and voila! no one sees it.

  As you well know, no Amish bishop would tolerate a Christmas tree anywhere in sight, but there we were, doing a genuine Amish Christmas program with a real Mennonite Christmas tree for all to see. Talk about doing things differently.

  I received a whole table full of Christmas gifts. You should have seen the pile, and they made me open them all after the program. I feel richer than the three kings, with others having come bearing the gifts. I’m planning on bringing everything home next week so you can see for yourself.

  Christmas Program for Trenton Christian School

  First Theme—The Coming of Christ

  Poem—Star of Hope

  Song—Star of the East

  Prophecies read from Genesis…

  Prophecies read from the book of Psalms…

  Song—Zion’s Glad Morning Prophecies read from Isaiah…

  Song—To Us a Child of Hope Is Born

  Prophecies read from Jeremiah, Joel, Amos, Micah, Zechariah, and Malachi…

  Song—He Comes

  Second Theme—The Birth of Christ

  J - E - S - U - S

  B - I - R -T - H

  Song—Joy to the World

  Poem—Greatest Miracle

  Poem—Think of Jesus

  Poem—There It Lies

  Chorus of How Great Thou Art

  Poem—When Christ Was Born

  Poem—Bethlehem

  Poem—What Shall We Children Bring?

  Poem—Sweet Story of Old

  Poem—How Great Thou Art

  Song—Zion’s Glad Morning

  Poem—Out from Glory

  Poem—The Christmas Story

  Poem—God So Loved

  Song—Hark, What M
ean Those Holy Voices?

  Third Theme—The Crucifixion

  Poem—Guard of the Grave

  Poem—On the Emmaus Road

  C - H - R - I - S -T - M - A - S

  Song—Faith of our Fathers

  Audience will sing Silent Night

  Bishop Joe Miller to lead us in closing prayer

  December 19

  Dearest Naomi,

  Greetings of love.

  This finds me in the middle of a Sunday afternoon, and I’m starting to get excited about seeing you this week. I should be home by Wednesday evening. Our first plans had been to leave on Thursday, but the school board member who is bringing me out pushed the plans up a day. I wasn’t going to tell you, keeping the news a surprise, but perhaps that wouldn’t be wise. So…you have been told.

  I should also mention this, even though it won’t affect our time together during my stay at home. Mom wrote yesterday saying they have an appointment for me with that doctor in Missouri. One of their friends knows him. You know—Amish/Mennonite connections. He’s supposed to be good for whatever ails you. I’m skeptical of course, but we shall see. I’ll have my arguments with them when I get home.

  I hope I haven’t been away so long that you’ve forgotten me.

  Love you,

  Eugene

  * * *

  A HOME VISIT...

  * * *

  Eugene and Naomi sat on the couch at her parents’ place watching the logs burn in the fireplace. Darkness had fallen outside, the last rays of the sun swept from the sky. Snow pelted the windowpanes. Out in the kitchen, the dishes rattled as Naomi’s sisters finished washing up after supper.

  Naomi reached for Eugene’s hand and nestled against his shoulder. “You don’t really have to leave again, do you?”

  Eugene laughed. “I wish. You know I have to.”

  “But will this ever end?” A tear crept down Naomi’s cheek.