I am off to bed now. I had a lovely day, which started with me preaching a very good sermon, and then going to my usual sumptuous dinner with the Aiken and Wallace families. It has been such a successful day, and I am quite overcome with the joy of it!
Love,
Emily
February 8, 1932
My School Journal, grade 7, Miss Weston’s class
By Pearl Wallace
Darlene and Mrs. Carlton come over to my house almost every day. They come to bring goat milk for my baby sister and for our French lessons. I always rush home after school because I know they will be here when we get home. It is something to which I look forward every day. When we walked in today, there was a big fire roaring in the fireplace, with popcorn going, and plenty of hot coffee and milk. It is such a nice, cozy feeling, coming in from the cold drizzle and getting to eat popcorn and listen to Uncle Woodrow tell stories. Winters are not all bad.
February 8, 1932. Beryl found her step-ins, and before I could stop her to tell her not to blab about it, she went running to Mama. I guess I should not have just hid them for her to find like that. I pretended I did not know where they came from. Mama thinks Daddy did it, and I did not tell her better. Now I just have to get to him on Saturday when he gets home before Mama does. I will tell him I bought them out of my muscadine money.
Beryl is, of course, very happy. She wore the blue ones today, and she says she will wear the pink ones tomorrow. She almost went prancing out in front of everybody to show them off!
February 9, 1932. We had right much fun at school today. Miss Weston knows we are all feeling restless with the weather being so dreary and we cannot go outside because of the mud and slush. She let us skip our lessons and instead play games all afternoon. She brought out some jacks, jackstraws, marbles, and a cup and ball set. While we were playing, Sardius was stuck in a corner, working on an essay that Miss Weston wanted him to write. I do not think it was fair he had to miss the games to do schoolwork, but I did not say anything. Miss Weston must have her reasons, and Sardius did not seem to mind. Beryl wore her pink drawers today to school. When she put them on, she said she was tickled pink, so they match!
February 10, 1932. We have an assignment to write about one of Longfellow’s poems, either “Evangeline” or “Hiawatha,” but I cannot decide which one. I like “Hiawatha” because it is about Indians, and I like thinking about the Indians who used to live here, up on the bluff above the river. However, the Indians who lived around here were Cherokee, while Longfellow wrote about Hiawatha, who was Iroquois, but they also were peaceful.
I think I will pick “Evangeline.” I like the way “Hiawatha” ends with Hiawatha getting saved by the blood of Jesus, but otherwise I do not have any connection to the Iroquois after all. I like “Evangeline” because Darlene is a Cajun, just like Evangeline was. I think she will be excited to hear the story of Evangeline so I am going to go over there tomorrow after school and tell her about it.
February 11, 1932. As it turns out, Darlene knows all about Evangeline. Her mama told her about the story last year so she could know a little about her history. That is a sad story, as sad as the Cherokee having to walk The Trail of Tears all the way from Tennessee to Oklahoma.
Here is how the story goes:
The English won Acadia (that is up in Canada) from the French in one of their wars, and they did the meanest thing. They shoved them onto different boats without paying any attention to keeping friends and families together, and burned their homes. Many got shipped off, back to Europe or to different ports along the Eastern Coast. They never saw their husbands, wives, children, or sweethearts again.
Evangeline spent her whole life looking for her betrothed, Gabriel, and she ended up down in Louisiana, where Darlene used to live. Many other Acadians went there, too, and eventually they came to be called “Cajuns” because they forgot how to say “Acadians” right. Evangeline finally found Gabriel, but he was very sick, and he died in her arms. It is a very sad story.
Evangeline and Gabriel loved each other, and they never stopped, and that is sweet, but I do not think I would be as faithful as Evangeline was. If I lost my betrothed and had no idea how to find him again, I would have to figure out a way to get on with my life. To tell the truth, if a likely man happened by who had a lot of money and was nice to me, I might be tempted to marry him. If I knew I could make it on my own, though, I might not marry at all. If you ask me, men are not always what you expect or hope they will be, and they can go bad on you. Look at my daddy. He went bad on Mama right before her eyes. Overnight he went from being a nice, handsome, hardworking husband and father to a shiftless drunk who says mean things and starves us all.
I never knew my Uncle Woodrow before he lost his nerves, but they say he was a very strong, handsome man, too, before the Great War. Now I would not have him, nice as he is. I would have to take care of him instead of him taking care of me the way it is supposed to be. Gabriel could have been that way, too. You just never know about men, so I reckon it is best just to stay away from them altogether if you can. That is what Miss Weston has done. She does not have a husband, and she is doing just fine. I suspect her daddy is rich, though. She has a fancy automobile, and you should see her pretty dresses! She did not get all that teaching down at Cheola School, or preaching, either.
As I was saying, Darlene knows about Evangeline, and we had a nice discussion, an argument really, because I thought Evangeline was crazy to waste her life pining after Gabriel, and she thought it was the right thing to do. I do not know. Gabriel was very nice, and it turns out he was the faithful sort, too.
February 12, 1932. Sunday is St. Valentine’s Day. Someone slipped a piece of paper that was cut out into the shape of a heart into my coat pocket when I was not looking. I found it when I was walking home. It said, “Be Mine, Valentine!” It did not have a name on it, but I know who gave it to me. Of course, I kept it hid from Beryl and Sardius. Some things need to be kept private. When I got home, I put it in my cherrywood box along with all my money.
February 13, 1932. Daddy got home early this morning and took off again before any of us even got out of bed, so I did not have the chance to tell him to take the credit for Beryl’s step-ins. I do not think Mama had the chance to mention them to him, either. I reckon he noticed how low his whiskey is getting, so he is probably going to spend today and tomorrow laying in a new supply. I am glad he is gone because Darlene got to spend the whole day here, and tonight she is going to stay the night. Billy Ray is home, and by the way Darlene is acting, he is having one of his mean spells. I wish he would just die. Poor Mrs. Carlton is over there with him all by herself.
February 14, 1932. Today is St. Valentine’s Day! Daddy gave Mama a box of chocolates and a yellow ribbon, and he gave us young’uns our own box of candy, which we ate right down.
Good news! Darlene went to dinner at Pap-pa’s house with us today. Mama said that she could come even though she did not go to church with us because people might not be nice to her considering that she is not exactly Caucasian and that she is a Catholic.
February 14, 1932
Dear Jonathan,
I received your beautiful card and gifts yesterday, which I found touching, if a trifle excessive. The box of candy is so large I will be sharing it with my students this week. I am willing to wager that none of them have ever tasted fine Belgium chocolate, and so it should be quite a treat for them! You were very kind to send it.
I am sorry I have not replied to any of your letters for the last month. I have been very busy with my students. You know that Sardius Wallace has been called to preach, and so I have been working with him to prepare him for Wheaton Academy this summer. Of course, I am eternally grateful to you for your part in arranging for him to be able to apply for a scholarship there, and his brother, Jasper, as well.
Since you have so kindly offered, I will happily take you up on your offer to send another shipment of goods for the benefit of the community. It is nice to
know that you are so enthusiastic about helping me do the Lord’s work here among these good people.
Sincerely,
Emily
Cold, waxing days, frigid nights.
The earth slips through the darkness,
Turning slowly toward the light.
My silver children still sleep, languid and soft.
My upright children rejoice in love.
I smile, as does the Spirit.
The scent of greening warms the air.
February 15, 1932
My School Journal, grade 7, Miss Weston’s class
By Pearl Wallace
My best friend is a Catholic, which means that she does not believe that you have to be washed in the Blood of Jesus to be saved. She thinks you just have to go to a priest and confess your sins. I wish she would go to church with us on Sunday and walk down the aisle during the invitational and really get saved.
The sermon was very good. Miss Weston preached about how Gideon was so afraid to mind God that he made God pass some tests to prove He was really talking to him. God should have gotten mad at him for doubting Him so much, but He did not. He just patiently passed all the tests Gideon gave Him with his wet fleece and his dry fleece, until finally, Gideon believed Him and went off to fight the Midianites. Miss Weston says our faith should be stronger than Gideon’s, but it is good to know that God will be patient with us if it is not. I am glad about that. Sometimes my faith is not always as strong as it should be. Maybe if my faith were stronger, Darlene would be saved. I am wishing for it with all my might.
February 17, 1932. Today was Mama’s birthday. She is 35 years old. We will celebrate her birthday, along with Jasper’s, on Sunday. Mama is the sweetest soul on this earth. She hates to make us work hard, and she especially hates for us to miss school. Mama very much wants her girls to become ladies so we do not have to make our way in the world by hard labor. I do not mind hard work, and I wish Mama would let me help her more.
Jasper’s birthday is tomorrow. Mama said that he was her birthday present 16 years ago, and she knew she was going to get him, but she did not have the chance to go out looking for him on this day because she was too busy celebrating her own birthday. That worried me because if Mama knew he was out there waiting for her in the cold and snow, why did she not go out and find him as soon as she could? I asked her about it, but she said she was just raffing about that. Of course, she would have laid out of her own birthday party if Jasper were ready. In fact, she went out the very minute she knew he was there, and she did not make him lie out in the cold any time at all.
February 18, 1932. Today is Jasper’s birthday. He is 16 years old. Even though we will not celebrate his birthday until Sunday, when Daddy can be here, Uncle Woodrow decided we should have a party anyway. Mama baked him a cake, and Darlene and Mrs. Carlton came, which made up for Daddy being gone. Mrs. Carlton and Darlene gave him a beautiful quilted jacket that they had made out of flour sacks and an old blanket that they had used to line it and make it warm. It is very colorful. I think Jasper likes it, although it is a little loud.
February 19, 1932. Sardius stayed at his desk at dinnertime today and ate while he was taking a special test Miss Weston wanted him to take. I did not want to sit with the sixth graders because Sam Hutchinson was sitting with them, so I went off by myself over by the stove where it was warm, and then Otis Merriweather came over and sat down beside me. We talked about Sardius being called to dedicate his life to Jesus. Now that he has, I probably cannot count on him to take up for Mrs. Carlton and Darlene. He would likely consider it sinful to hurt Billy Ray Carlton. Jasper would do it, but I hate for him to have to go it alone, since I cannot trust Daddy to do it right, and Uncle Woodrow would as soon die as do violence to any living soul. I reckon I am going to have to rely on Otis and his family. He had said they consider it a community service to take care of women who have low-down husbands, so I asked him about it again.
I was confused about Otis claiming to be a Scot. When we go to the Highland Games every summer, we meet people from a lot of different clans, and I never have met any Merriweathers. I had always heard that the Merriweathers were English, so I was wondering how they had a clan. Otis explained that his clan that helped his aunt was not the Merriweathers, but the Cluecluckers, which, he believes, are on his mother’s side. I have never heard of them before, but I reckon there are a lot of Scottish families I have never met. I told him all about the Highland Games at Maryville, and he said he would try to get the Cluecluckers to go next summer if he could.
As far as he knows, the Cluecluckers do not have a tartan. Daddy says that you can tell people have family pride and dignity if they display their tartan. He says only trash just plain forgot their lineage when they left the Old World and came to the New one. I suppose that is what happened to the Cluecluckers, but I did not tell Otis that. Being that his daddy is a Merriweather, his pride has been watered down with English blood, which does not have any heritage to be proud of. The English are just a bunch of rogues. I did not say that to him, though, since it would not be polite to point it out.
Now that I think on it, I realize that Miss Weston is English, too, so I reckon not all the English are rogues. I have decided not to hold it against her. She cannot help it if her ancestors were born on the wrong side of the border, just like Darlene cannot help it that she was born into the Catholics.
February 21, 1932. Today at dinnertime, Miss Janey Jo put on an even better spread than usual for Mama’s and Jasper’s birthdays, with a goose and about every kind of vegetable that grows in Pap-pa’s garden. She also made a pound cake for dessert, and she wrote, “Happy birthday Adeline and Jasper” in sugar icing that she dyed pink with beet juice. Mama cried, and I think it made her feel a lot better about Miss Janey Jo marrying her daddy, because after that she patted Miss Janey Jo’s hand and smiled at her. I just about ate my weight in roasted goose, so by the time we got to the cake, I could not hardly eat a whole piece!
Everybody gave Mama and Jasper presents, which were all very nice, but Miss Weston gave them the nicest ones of all, and to tell the truth, they made our presents seem a little poor. She gave Mama a beautiful lace collar and Jasper a leather bound journal that he can write his thoughts in. Miss Weston said she feels so much a part of the family, she just had to do what she could, which made me feel very good.
I gave Mama her cornmeal and Jasper two bobbing floats, which he liked very much. They cost 6c.
Tonight is the full snow moon. Jasper and Uncle Woodrow will begin plowing, enough to get in some cold season vegetables, but not enough for it to be too hard on them. We do not begin the main plowing season with this moon, thank goodness, because we will get several more hard freezes before it is time to do the spring planting. Still, the little bit that needs to be done is no picnic. It is miserable trying to plow the hard ground when the snow and wind are coming at you. We just try to get in some onions and garlic early on, while the moon is still waning, and then we move on to collards, cabbages, and Brussels sprouts.
Thank goodness Daddy did not go fox hunting tonight. He has to go to work tomorrow.
February 21, 1932
Dear Cecilia,
We had a lovely celebration yesterday—it was for the birthdays of both Mrs. Adeline Wallace and Jasper Wallace, the eldest boy, who just turned 16. He has become an exceptional young man! Like his father and uncle, he is beautiful to look at, strong, lively, and of the finest of intellects. I cannot tell you how impressed I am by this family. Anyone would be proud to be associated with them.
As usual, the conversation was lively, ranging through a variety of topics, from the humorous to the sublime. I do wish you could have been here to see it all! Our little society in Chicago would pale in comparison. All anyone talks about at home are other people, society events, and the weather. Here people talk philosophy and poetry. Although they spend their time toiling in the soil, they do not talk much about crops or the weather. Their minds are on much loftier s
ubjects.
Mr. Woodrow has challenged me to think about politics, and about the rights of women and coloreds. I must say, I was taken aback at how broad-minded he is. He would give Father a good run for his money; he had such a grasp of the problems they face and how it translates into problems of our entire society. I could talk to him for hours and never be bored.
It is late, so I must be off to bed. I hope your dreams are sweet.
Emily
Waxing, snowy days, bitter nights.
I taste hope, sweet and green.
But it is too soon for Spring;
Is it mine? My ardor for the Great Orb?
Not only mine, but the yearning of the stranger
Who cannot see beyond the bend,
Beyond the cascades, where the boulders lie in wait.
February 23, 1932. Jasper plowed most of the day, but it started to snow just as we got home from school, so Mama made him come in early. Uncle Woodrow came in, too, and we had a fine time just sitting in front of the fire telling stories and eating supper in the living room. Mrs. Carlton and Darlene brought a cheese pie and a quart of buttermilk, which we managed to make disappear in about a minute! Then we played Shadow Bluff the rest of the evening. Winters can be hard, but they are cozy, too, when you have a good fire going and all your loved ones are around.
February 27, 1932. We laid out of school for the last 2 days to help with the planting. Just as soon as Daddy got home today, he changed into his overalls and went out to help. Mama let us wait until after breakfast and it warmed up a little bit before we had to go out. We got all the carrots, beetroot, and turnips in, with plenty of time to spare. Now we wait until March until we start the next round of crops.
In the Midst of Innocence Page 19