Because it was Monday, she directed the younger children to complete their arithmetic lesson as Esther worked with the older children on grading their math homework. One of the things Miriam enjoyed about teaching was how well their classroom worked together—her children often pausing in their lessons to listen while one of Esther’s students stopped to ask questions regarding a more difficult problem or to help another student who didn’t understand one of the assignments. She thought it was part of the learning process and helped to teach them every bit as much as she did.
The morning flew by, and at lunch they allowed the children to go outside in spite of the snow that still remained on the ground.
“Remember to bundle up,” Esther cautioned them. She pulled out her sandwich and sat down beside Miriam. “It’s amazing to me that they want to be out in the cold. I’m happy right here beside the stove.”
“Ya. I feel the same. Though I understand the need to go outside and make some snow angels.”
The young girls sitting around them glanced up from the game of Uno they were playing.
Sadie stared at her cards another minute, and then she set them down and grabbed Grace’s hand. “Let’s do it. Let’s go make snow angels.”
Grace’s eyes widened, but she didn’t answer yes or no.
“Sadie’s right, Grace.” Lily also put down her cards. “Making snow angels is fun.”
Both girls stood now, pulling on Grace’s hands. Grace allowed herself to be coaxed over to where their coats hung. As Lily and Sadie giggled, they all managed to put on their outer gear and then escaped into the sunshine.
“She seems to be doing well,” Esther said.
“So you heard?”
“Ya. Joseph was one of the ones who helped to look for her.”
“That’s right. I’d forgotten.”
“What a miracle she was found. Joseph said Pepper is the one who found her in a snow cave.”
Miriam nodded, pushing away the fears that still crowded into her dreams at night. “The best part is that Gabe wants to try therapy for her speech problem now. I believe it frightened him that she couldn’t call out for help.”
“How terrifying.”
Esther and Miriam ate in silence.
“But how—”
“I’m not sure.”
Outside, Sadie tapped on the window and then ran forward a few yards. Holding Lily’s hand on one side, and Grace’s on the other, all three girls fell backward. They reminded Miriam of a string of paper dolls she’d had as a child. When they began scissoring their arms up and down, Esther started to giggle.
“They’re making their snow angels a bit deep. I’m not sure they will be able to stand up now.” But just then Hannah happened along, and she helped each little girl to her feet.
“You know, maybe there isn’t a solution to Grace’s problem.”
“Huh?” Esther frowned as she unwrapped two oatmeal cookies and offered Miriam one.
“Maybe there isn’t one solution. Maybe there are several.”
Taking the cookie to her desk, Miriam sat down, pulled out a sheet of paper, and began writing out Grace’s new lesson plan.
Chapter 19
Gabe checked Grace’s lunch box after school on Monday, but there was no note.
He would check it again as soon as she arrived home on Tuesday, but he was worried that Miriam had given up on the both of them. She’d seemed confused by his request.
Maybe she didn’t know what to do with Grace.
Maybe he’d been so rude when he’d confronted her that day in her father’s barn that she didn’t want to help them.
Maybe she was busy, being a teacher to all those children he’d seen in the schoolhouse.
He scolded himself for thinking she could drop everything and put his needs—Grace’s needs—first. He drove the nail into a two by four with one slam of the hammer.
“Did that board personally offend you, or are you just feeling particularly energetic this morning?” Eli Stutzman passed another two by four his way.
Four of the men from their church district had shown up Monday morning to help reframe the barn. Gabe had been stunned—because of the weather, because surely they had their own work to do, and because this wasn’t exactly the season for a barn raising.
“Not raising it,” Efram had noted, pulling away a rotted board.
“Patching it.” Joseph had climbed up on the roof as if the weather weren’t biting cold and the barn wasn’t covered in snow. Sometimes younger men had an energy that irritated Gabe, but he wasn’t going to point it out right then.
They had finished the patch on the roof to the barn this morning with the help of Miriam’s father, Joshua. This afternoon Joshua was attending to things on his own farm, and Joseph and Efram had errands in town, but Eli had returned to help with the side wall that was caving in.
“Maybe being around those younger guys had a positive effect on you—or maybe you like swinging that hammer as if it’s a wrecking ball.” Eli grinned as he spoke. Gabe was learning that the man didn’t own a bad mood, which was probably a good thing since he drove a buggy full of kids and needed more than a bushel of patience.
“Guess I was worrying, is all.” Gabe continued to hammer in the nails that would hold the board into place. He’d been amazed at how much faster the work went when he wasn’t doing it alone. Of course, he should have known that, but somehow his pride had helped him forget.
“Anything you want to talk about?”
“Don’t know that it would help.”
“Will it hurt?”
Gabe thought about it for a few moments, and then he reached down and took a long drink from the jug of water at his feet. “I asked Miriam to help me with Grace. Help find a way to…” He stumbled over the history and the hurt. “Help her find her voice again. I thought I would have heard from her by now.”
Eli nodded, not answering immediately.
They added two more boards to the wall before he enlightened Gabe with what he knew. “Maybe that’s why she had me go over to Doc Hanson’s yesterday.”
“Doc Hanson?”
“Ya. It was about something very important. She came running out of the schoolhouse like it was on fire with a note she needed him to have that morning, so I said I’d take it. But Doc isn’t in his office on Mondays—only the nurse is. I guess Miriam forgot that.”
“He wasn’t in?”
“That’s what I said.”
“But you still took the note?”
Eli removed his hat and then repositioned it on his head. “Maybe you need to take a break, son.”
“What happened then?”
“When?”
Gabe set his hammer down on a sawhorse and took a step back from the wall. “After you took the note in.”
“Nothing happened. He wasn’t there.”
“Did you read it?”
“’Course not. It wasn’t to me.”
“Right. Okay. So you took it in, but he wasn’t there.”
“Ya.”
Gabe waited, but Eli had already picked up another board and seemed to be done with the conversation.
“So I guess he’d be in today.”
“Doc?”
“Who else?” Now Gabe suspected the man was messing with him, especially when he started grinning so that his beard took an upturn.
“Why, sure.” Eli scratched at his beard. “Doc’s always in the office during the week.”
“Except Mondays.”
“Ya. Except Mondays.”
They moved down the wall, replacing boards, with the December sunshine stealing the chill from the afternoon.
“Good man?” Gabe asked. Now the boards seemed lighter, and he wasn’t worried anymore. At least he knew Miriam’s silence wasn’t because she was angry at him.
“Doc Hanson? Oh, yes. A very good man. Seen him a few times myself.”
The rest of the day went quickly. By the time Eli left, the barn was starting to actually resemble
something that might withstand a winter’s storm, or even a spring one for that matter.
When Grace hopped out of Eli’s buggy an hour later, she waved her lunch box.
“Something in there you want me to see?”
Grace was walking backward, staying a few steps in front of him as they headed toward the house. Her cheeks were beginning to peel from the slight frostbite she’d suffered, but he still thought she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
When they reached the house, she thrust the lunch box in his hands and then dashed ahead. He resisted the urge to open it and read the note while he stood there in the cold.
Best to go on inside first and see that she had an afternoon snack to eat. Food had been popping up in his house the last few days as well. Every time one of the men showed up to help with the barn, it seemed they brought a basketful of something baked. He might have argued with accepting the gifts except for the delight on his daughter’s face every afternoon when she came home and checked the cupboard.
His thoughts returned to the unread note, Miriam, and Doc Hanson. What would their plan be? What would it mean for Grace?
Whatever it was, they would confront it together.
Miriam wanted to speak quietly with Grace before their afternoon meeting. Unfortunately, her students had other ideas. Most days, teaching in a one-room schoolhouse was calm and things went according to plan.
And then there were days like Wednesday.
The rain had started falling steadily before she rang the eight thirty bell, which meant that everyone tracked in mud along with the last of the remaining snow. She didn’t understand how it could be raining when they had just had a blizzard, but somehow the temperatures had continued to warm through the day yesterday and even throughout the night. Esther had told her as they readied for class that the rest of the week would be in the low forties, which meant drizzly rain and thirty-eight students who could not go outside.
Once the children had come inside and spent fifteen minutes cleaning up the mess they had tracked with them, Esther had led them through their Scripture and the Lord’s Prayer. Miriam had started to harbor hope that the day would find its natural rhythm. Then they had progressed through the singing, and the Lapp boys had begun to squirm.
They hadn’t made it through the second song when something popped out of the younger boy’s pocket and Miriam’s girls fell out of line with a squeal—all except for Grace, who wanted to get closer to see better. That should have been her first clue that the boys had brought mice into the classroom. The older children had helped to catch them and deposit them out the front door—she’d thought Grace would actually speak at that point, but the young girl had written notes madly on the side. Hannah explained to her that these mice weren’t like Stanley—they were plain field mice the boys had caught in their dad’s barn.
While Esther moved the Lapp boys to the back for a private conversation and an extra writing assignment on schoolroom behavior, Miriam had started the arithmetic assignment. Younger students handed their papers to older students for grading. Older students exchanged with one another. Grade 2 students started their next reading lesson, while grade 1 students filed back to the front of the room for their oral reading lesson—though they kept glancing around as if a mouse might pop out from behind Miriam’s desk.
Things finally settled down, and she even forgot about the patter of rain against the window, but then it was time for recess and bathroom breaks. She kept a close eye on the Lapp boys as they tramped outside, but they had been sufficiently chastised. Their father gave them plenty of chores at home, and they would have enough trouble completing one extra assignment. A second dose wouldn’t be something they would want to carry home. No doubt the mice had been meant for the restroom break and had escaped early.
So she relaxed slightly, and that’s probably why she wasn’t quick enough when one of the older Stutzman girls turned too quickly on the boardwalk they set over the bigger mud puddle outside. The rain was still coming down steadily. They had two lines going out of the schoolhouse—girls out the front and boys out the back.
Later she heard the real reason Katie Stutzman slipped off the board and fell, bottom first, into the large puddle of water. Apparently she’d been trying to get a better look at Amos Hershberger. It was December—only December! Too early for spring fever and the dance between boys and girls and long looks. Besides, Katie was only twelve years old. She was much too young to have boys on her mind.
Miriam hurried outside, helped a crying Katie out of the puddle, and guided her upstairs. Though Esther’s clothes were several sizes too large, they would work for the rest of the afternoon.
Katie missed recess, and Miriam missed her chance to speak with Grace. They did make it downstairs in time for another hour of lessons—this time Esther’s older classes worked on reading and comprehension while Miriam’s students tackled new problems from their math workbooks. Perhaps it was the rain, or the morning they had experienced, or the text Esther’s classes had read. Whatever the reason, Miriam’s little ones repeatedly looked up from their numbers, pencils paused and eyes staring at their older brothers and sisters.
She finally motioned for them to close their books and listen in as Esther and her students focused on the final chapters of Little Women.
“Now that you’ve answered questions about the facts of the novel, I want you to interpret the meaning of the story and think about what the author had in mind when she wrote it.” The older children began to squirm as they stood in line, waiting for their question.
“Hannah, this book was written more than one hundred and forty years ago. How can students today relate to it?”
Pulling on the strings of her kapp, Hannah stared at the board for a moment, and then she began to speak—softly at first, but more confidently as she grew sure of her answer. “It is an old book, but some things don’t change. Jo’s family had four girls, and most of us have at least that many.” There was a bit of laughter among the students. “What I liked was how each character was different. Some people think when you grow up in a large family that everyone is the same, but you’re not. Jo, Meg, Beth, and Amy all had very different personalities. The author was able to show that through their mishaps, and I think any reader can relate to the characters, even if the book was written a long time ago.”
“Good,” Esther said. “Amos.”
The boy stepped forward—tall and gangly. Miriam knew him to be a good reader.
“What is in this book for a boy?”
“Not much.”
Everyone laughed out loud now.
Amos ran his hands under his suspenders. “But when you’re reading about Jo, it’s almost as if you’re reading about a boy.”
“How so?”
“She likes to do things boys like to do rather than things she’s supposed to like to do. She wants to fight in the Civil War with her father, when actually he’s gone to be a chaplain. That shows how little she understands.” Esther nodded her agreement, so Amos continued. “Even her name—Jo instead of Josephine—shows she has trouble accepting her place in their family.”
“Know anyone like that, Amos?”
“If I did I wouldn’t say. She’d box my ears.”
Again laughter filled the room as Esther nodded for him to step back and the next student stepped forward.
The discussion continued until Esther glanced at Miriam, and Miriam stood and rang the bell for lunch. Everyone returned to their desks, and Esther dismissed the room by rows while Miriam oversaw hand-washing at the sink at the back of the room. Some students then picked up their lunch boxes, which they had stored near their coats, while others made their way to the stove where they had placed potatoes to cook.
Within fifteen minutes everyone had eaten and games of checkers and cards were set up.
“This rain cannot last all week,” Esther said, as she snapped her fingers at two of the boys who were chasing two of the girls in a game of Bear. Boys were th
e bear. Girls were lunch for the bear.
“Ya. Not everyone is happy playing cards, but they have to use up their energy somehow.”
“Maybe they could play Duck and go float around the school building.”
The teachers savored their sandwiches and hot tea as the rain continued to drum a pattern against the window.
“It’s so odd for the weather to be warmer this week.”
“Joseph heard in town that it’s a warm front being pushed by a much colder front that will hit again this weekend.”
“Wunderbaar. Just in time to keep us inside on Saturday and Sunday.”
“Did you know our record high in December was sixty-two?”
“I did not.” Miriam studied her. “Let me guess. Joseph told you that.”
Esther smiled. “He enjoys studying such things for the animals.”
“You two seem as if you are going to be very happy together.”
“Ya. I believe we are.”
Esther studied the rain for a moment, and then she turned to Miriam with a mischievous smile. “There’s supposed to be a singing after church. You should come. That is, if it isn’t canceled because of too much rain or too much cold.”
“I’ll think about it,” Miriam said. She would, to be kind to Esther, but she didn’t think her mind would change about attending the after-church singing for single folk. She was watching out the window at the steady flow of rain, wondering if Doc Hanson would make it. Somehow, she managed to lose track of time, and she completely forgot about the need to speak with Grace about the doctor’s appointment later that day.
Chapter 20
Grace stared from her dad to her teacher to the Englisch man who looked like pictures of a big bear she’d seen in a book.
The Englischer had no beard. That surprised her more than his size. She’d seen plenty of men without beards—all the younger men at church didn’t have them. But she’d never seen an older man without a beard.
A Promise for Miriam Page 11