Brightest and Best

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Brightest and Best Page 32

by Newport, Olivia


  A man bought 50 cords of wood for $225 and sold 15 percent of it for $45. What percent was gained on the part sold?

  Why was the destruction of the public buildings of Washington in 1814 by the British condemned?

  What cargo would a ship be likely to carry from Odessa to London?

  A and B engage to do work for $170. A worked 3 days more than ⅝ as long as B, and received $70. How many days did each work?

  Show accent and sound of vowels of the following adjectives: reputable, estimable, Philippine, recreant, imitative. Use correctly in sentences the five words.

  Give a model for parsing a noun, an adjective, and a verb.

  Explain Standard Time.

  Describe muscles as to uses, kinds, forms, structure, and motions produced.

  For every question that gave Ella confidence, another drained hope. Science, mathematics, history, language. The arithmetic question bouncing constantly to the front of her mind was how many hours remained until the time of testing.

  On Saturday, Margaret cooked a hearty, filling breakfast. Lindy joined them for constant quizzing and looking up answers. They drank one pot of coffee after another.

  Ella wondered what Gideon was doing that morning. What Gertie really thought about the idea that if Ella passed this test, she would be Gertie’s teacher rather than her mamm. Whether Percival Eggar had another legal strategy up his sleeve if Ella failed. How dreadful it would be to learn that she failed only by a point or two.

  On Sunday, Ella stayed home while Margaret went to church. Then they bundled up against the brisk wintry air, donned sturdy shoes, and went for a long constitutional, which Margaret claimed was refreshment for the mind as well as the body and during which she worked a range of academic topics into conversation.

  On Monday, Margaret returned to her own school, leaving Ella once again to study amid the stacks of textbooks and notes written in Margaret’s neat script from her college years.

  By Tuesday morning, Ella could not absorb one more new sentence. She stacked the books tidily at one end of Margaret’s dining room table, sorted her pages of notes according to topic, and began reading through them line by line.

  Margaret topped off Tuesday’s supper with a pie as delicious as any baked by an Amish woman and sent Ella to an early bedtime in the spare room.

  On Wednesday, Margaret walked with Ella to the superintendent’s office before proceeding to school.

  “Don’t let Mr. Brownley intimidate you,” Margaret said.

  “I’m sure he would like nothing more than for me to fail,” Ella said.

  “Don’t give him any reason to think you might. And remember, he is only proctoring the exam. He didn’t write the test, and he won’t be grading your answers.”

  Ella nodded. Her heart pounded, pushing adrenaline through the physiology system she had learned so much about in the last few days.

  “I’ll come back as soon as school is out for the day,” Margaret said. “I’ll be here waiting when you finish.”

  Ella moistened her lips and pushed open the heavy door.

  CHAPTER 46

  I’ll go to the bus stop,” James said.

  “I can do it,” Gideon said.

  “Or I will,” Ella added.

  James took his coat off the hook in the kitchen. “I want to be useful.”

  James’s shoulders slumped more than they did two weeks ago. Over the last few days, Gideon had made several attempts to talk himself out of this observation, but each time he came to the same conclusion: James had aged five years in the two weeks since he buried his wife.

  Gideon and Ella watched James go out the back door and head toward the buggy. Tobias would say it wasn’t too far to walk from the bus stop to the farm, but each day seemed colder than the one before, and Gideon didn’t want his children to suffer one moment more than necessary. They had suffered enough already in the bumpy fall months.

  “I hope James believes me,” Gideon said, “when I say he’ll always have a home here.”

  “The girls would be heartbroken if he left,” Ella said.

  “Tobias, too.”

  “Besides, where would he go?”

  “He still has a brother in Lancaster,” Gideon said.

  “We could invite him to visit,” Ella suggested.

  Gideon nodded. “In time, perhaps.” He remembered those early days of being stunned that in a matter of hours the land under his life had rolled and reformed. Even after more than forty years together, James had been as unprepared to lose Miriam as Gideon had been to lose Betsy after eight. Gideon jerked his thoughts back from what it would be like to lose Ella, even after forty years.

  “I should work on the casserole.” Ella stood up and took a pan from a lower cupboard.

  Gideon put out a hand, and Ella grazed it as she went by.

  “It must be terrible for you to wait,” he said. Her test results were due today—at least Mr. Brownley expected to have them today. How quickly he would pass them on to Ella was uncertain.

  “It will be what it will be.” Ella selected five large potatoes from a half bushel in the corner where Miriam’s chair used to be.

  The children had just spilled into the house and released their book straps and lunch buckets onto the kitchen counter when the sound of an automobile penetrated Gideon’s consciousness and he got up to look out the front window.

  “It’s Lindy,” he said.

  Ella followed him, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Were you expecting her?”

  “No. She probably wants to see how James is.”

  “Or all of you,” Ella said softly. She opened the front door to invite Lindy in.

  “Come on,” Lindy said. “Get in the car. Let’s go.”

  “Where?” Gideon asked.

  “Town. There’s no reason Ella should wait another hour for the results. We all know Brownley probably got them first thing this morning.”

  Gideon and Ella locked eyes.

  “I would like to know,” Ella confessed.

  “Then you should go,” Gideon said.

  “Come with me,” Ella said. “James is here for the children. You heard him say he wants to be useful.”

  Gideon nodded. “I’ll tell him we’re going.”

  In the car, Gideon’s hand kept wanting to reach for a brake lever to pull. Betsy always said that even when she was driving a buggy, Lindy liked speed, and this was Gideon’s consistent experience with her. Ella showed no reaction. Perhaps she was grateful for the motor that would carry her to her test results and home again while there was still time to make supper.

  Mr. Brownley kept them waiting. They arrived without an appointment, so Gideon had some sympathy for the time it would take for Mr. Brownley to rearrange his afternoon. The longer they sat in the reception area, though, the more Gideon resented the wait. How long would it take to say yes or no to the question of whether Ella had performed acceptably on the examination?

  Finally Brownley opened the door to his inner office and gestured that they should enter and be seated.

  “I understand you were to be married,” Brownley said.

  “We still are,” Gideon said.

  “Oh? I was given to understand that you realized that young women who marry cannot be teachers. It’s not done.”

  “I do understand,” Ella said evenly. “I am prepared to accept the responsibilities that come with a teaching position.”

  “Even at personal sacrifice?” Brownley said, one eyebrow raised.

  “Yes.”

  Gideon’s foot began to thump slowly.

  “Miss Hilty, how did you feel about the exam?” Brownley asked.

  “It was a privilege to be allowed to take it,” she answered.

  Gideon’s foot thumped faster and more audibly.

  “You didn’t find it overly difficult, considering your own limited educational opportunities?”

  “A person who loves learning will always find a way,” Ella said.

  “That is an
admirable perspective,” Brownley said. He settled back in his chair. “Was there a particular portion of the test that you found more difficult than another?”

  Gideon interrupted the exchange before his foot would begin to stomp. “Mr. Brownley, it is our understanding that you have the results of Ella’s test.”

  “Yes, I do. They arrived this morning. Of course, if you had a telephone, I might have saved you a lengthy buggy ride into town.”

  “Lindy Lehman was kind enough to bring us by automobile,” Gideon said. “So if you also would be so kind?”

  Brownley sighed. “Yes. Miss Hilty, your test score ensures that you will be duly credentialed as a teacher in Geauga County.”

  Margaret answered the knock at her door.

  “Ella!”

  Margaret looked past Ella’s grinning face to where Lindy and Gideon leaned against Lindy’s car across the street. Her eyes came back to Ella’s.

  “You passed!” she said, stepping back to open the door wider. “You should all come in.”

  “I can’t,” Ella said. “James is at home with the children, and I’ve hardly seen them at all today, and I promised them supper, and Gideon will need to do the milking, and I—”

  “Okay, okay,” Margaret said, laughing.

  “I just wanted you to know,” Ella said. “I could not have done it without you.”

  “You earned this. You worked hard. You deserve the recognition.”

  “It is only for God’s glory,” Ella said.

  “Then may His glory shine through the gifts He has given you,” Margaret said. “I’ll help you in any way I can. We can work on lesson plans and grading together, and I can give you a list of the books about teaching that I’ve found most helpful.”

  “Thank you. All of that would be wonderful,” Ella said, “but I hate to impose. You’ve done so much for us already.”

  Margaret glanced at Gideon again.

  “You gave up your wedding for this,” Margaret said quietly. “At least you have a good man waiting for you once everything is resolved. He believes in you.”

  This was more than Margaret could say for herself.

  “Yes, he does,” Ella said, “sometimes more than I believe in myself.”

  “God has blessed you.” Margaret squeezed Ella’s hand. “When will you open the school?”

  “In three days!” Ella put a hand to a cheek. “Three days! How can I ever be ready?”

  “Why not wait until January—a fresh start in a fresh year?”

  “Mr. Brownley will test my students in June,” Ella said. “We have to be ready. Every day matters.”

  “Nora Coates would be so proud of you,” Margaret said.

  “No. No pride,” Ella said. “Only obedience. A calling.”

  Margaret nodded. “I’ll be praying for you.”

  “And I for you.”

  Margaret watched Ella scamper back to Lindy’s car. She closed the front door and leaned against it.

  “No pride. Only obedience. A calling.”

  Gray was gone. But like Ella, Margaret had obedience. Like Ella, she had a calling.

  And she could ask God for no greater gift.

  Ella would be the first to admit she was nervous. This time when the students arrived, there would be more of them. None of the families left their children in the town consolidated grade school because they feared retribution if they did not.

  The schoolhouse was warm. The books were out, the chalkboard filled with assignments and instructions. Despite the outside temperature, Ella stood outdoors and welcomed her pupils.

  The King children.

  The Mast children.

  The Glicks.

  The Hershbergers.

  The Borntragers.

  The Bylers.

  Her stepbrother, Seth.

  Gideon’s children.

  Every family with school-age children was represented.

  Ella welcomed each child by name.

  Gideon sent his children inside. “Maybe we should make sure the window on the side of the building seals properly,” he said to Ella.

  “I’ve noticed no problem,” she said.

  His lips turned up on one side. “Let’s be sure, shall we?”

  Ella looked toward the door. “My pupils—”

  “We wouldn’t want one of the little ones to sit in a draft.”

  “No,” she agreed. “We wouldn’t.”

  She followed Gideon around the side of the building that faced away from the road. There, he took both her hands.

  “This was to be our day,” he said.

  A lump stole her throat. “Yes.”

  “I promise you I will always remember this day.”

  “As will I.”

  “I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

  “I’m not. I promise. I’m not.”

  “December 19, 1918.”

  Ella smiled. “The day I became a teacher.”

  “No,” Gideon said, “the day you believed in yourself.”

  He leaned in to kiss her. The words tumbling around in Ella’s mind told her, Not here. Not now. But her lips returned Gideon’s soft pressure, and her fingers returned his grip on hers. The moment lingered, and Ella savored the sensation.

  It was the giggling that made them step apart.

  Gertie covered her mouth with a hand. “Daed is kissing the teacher!”

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  I chose to set this story in Geauga County, Ohio, because this was the place of the earliest recorded conflict between Amish parents and state officials over the schooling of their children. Three Amish fathers were fined because they would not send their children to high school. My story is not a retelling of that incident, of which little is known. In fact, it is not a retelling of any one specific conflict over this issue but a fusion of principles and posturing that began in Geauga County in 1914 and continued until the Supreme Court of the United States ruled in 1972. Interestingly, in more recent decades Geauga County was again the site of discontent when a school superintendent attempted to eliminate the tradition of providing used textbooks and furniture to Amish schools. This was in hope of stirring up Amish parents to vote in favor of a levy rather than remain neutral and apart on the issue.

  Because my story is a conflation, I have not strictly followed the chronology history gives us but have compressed events that happened over years or decades, and over several states, into a few months in one fictional town. Historically the Amish sent their children to school to study alongside non-Amish children through the eighth grade. Rural schools, often with mixed grades in one room, allowed Amish parents close involvement in what their children were learning. A movement that began in the 1910s to “consolidate” small rural schools into larger town schools, along with new compulsory attendance laws that took children past the eighth grade, gave rise to a sort of resistance movement among Amish parents. On January 12, 1922, eight children from Holmes County, Ohio, were taken to the Painter Children’s Home and their parents charged with neglect because of their position on education.

  Over the next few decades, Amish parents stood up against law enforcement because of the strength of their conviction. They paid fines, they spent time in jail, they kept their teenage children home to work on the farm, they established their own schools in defiance of standards of state law, they were charged with child neglect and contributing to the delinquency of minors. Fathers who were convicted used the court system to appeal. School districts that lost also appealed. Multiple issues emerged: Was the instruction untrained Amish teachers offered equivalent to the instruction given in public schools? Which was paramount—the state’s interest in educated citizens or parents’ religious convictions? Did the state have the power to close private schools?

  In 1972 the determination of the Amish to educate their own children—and only through the eighth grade—reached the Supreme Court in Wisconsin v. Yoder. Chief Justice Warren Burger wrote: “A State’s interest in universal education … is n
ot totally free from a balancing process when it impinges on other fundamental rights and interests, such as those specifically protected by the Free Exercise Clause of the First Amendment.” The Amish had successfully argued that enforcing the state’s compulsory education laws would gravely endanger the free exercise of Amish religious beliefs.

  I find an issue like this one interesting to write about because similar questions linger a century after Ella and Gideon and their real-life counterparts. We continue to need to understand each other better and learn to see the world through someone else’s lens. (And for a little fun, I borrowed names from a variety of legal cases on record to populate the Amish farms around the fictional town of Seabury.)

  I am particularly indebted to Compulsory Education and the Amish: The Right Not to Be Modern, edited by Albert N. Keim (Boston: Beacon Press, 1975), especially the chapters, “Who Shall Educate Our Children?” by Joseph Stoll and “The Cultural Context of the Wisconsin Case” by John A. Hostetler, and The Riddle of Amish Culture by Donald A. Kraybill (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1989) for an understanding of the religious and legal issues at play.

  Thank you to Barbour Publishing for allowing me to explore these historical questions and ponder intersections with modern public discussion. Their team of editors, designers, and marketers turn a manuscript into a book. And as always, thanks to my agent, Rachelle Gardner, for walking this publishing journey with me with the grace and encouragement of the good friend she is.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Olivia Newport’s novels twist through time to find where faith and passions meet. Her husband and two twenty-something children provide welcome distraction from the people stomping through her head on their way into her books. She chases joy in stunning Colorado at the foot of the Rockies, where daylilies grow as tall as she is.

  Coming in 2016,

  the next title in

  AMISH TURNS OF TIME …

  Hope in the Land

  BY OLIVIA NEWPORT

  While the Great Depression stalls the country in gloom, can neighbors in Lancaster County grasp the goodness that will sustain hope?

 

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