“Not that she’d give me a second look,” he mumbled. “She’s probably had all kinds of offers from men a lot smarter and handsomer than me.”
Ernie was glad when the icehouse came into view. He was supposed to meet Abe McGinnis there, and the two of them would spend most of the day cutting ice on a section of canal nearby that hadn’t been drained. Ernie figured hard work was good. It kept him too busy to do much thinking, and when he worked up a sweat, he didn’t mind the cold so much.
“Yep. That’s what I need all right,” Ernie mumbled, opening the door of the icehouse. “Need to get busy and quit thinkin’ about that purty schoolteacher.”
While the children romped in the snow during recess, Judith sat at her desk, reading the letters that had been deposited in the letter box a short time ago. The first one was from Bobby Collins, and it read:
Dear Teacher:
How come you have two different-colored eyes?
The boy was new to class and was one of those who led the mules along the canal. Judith knew he hadn’t been at school the day she’d explained to the students about her unusual eyes. Therefore, he deserved an answer to his question.
Dear Bobby:
God makes each person different, and He chose to give me one brown eye and one blue.
Miss King
She unfolded the next piece of paper.
Dear Teacher:
How do I get to be a teacher like you?
Ruby Miller
Judith’s reply was:
Dear Ruby:
Study hard, get good grades, and someday you might be offered the job of teaching school, too.
Miss King
The next letter caused Judith to do some serious thinking.
Dear Teacher:
Why can’t we have a longer recess?
Carl Higgins
Judith tapped her pencil along the edge of her desk. Carl’s question was one she had asked herself when she was a girl. Maybe she could extend their recess a bit, perhaps on Friday afternoons.
The next letter was a surprise.
Dear Teacher:
I wish you was my mama. I think Papa might like that, too.
The letter was unsigned.
Judith felt a trickle of perspiration roll down her forehead. If one of the children thought this way, could there be more with the same idea? And who had written this note?
She studied the handwriting, noting that the letters were uneven and some were barely more than a scribble. It had to be written by one of the younger children.
Could it be Carl? she wondered. He seemed to like Judith and often gave her a hug when no one was looking.
Judith heard the children’s footsteps clomping across the porch. “How can I possibly answer this letter out loud?” she moaned.
CHAPTER 5
As Judith left the pastor’s home and headed toward the church on Sunday morning, she noticed several of her students coming up the walkway. Grace and Andy were not among them, however, and neither was their father.
When Ernie mentioned that he had taught his children some memory verses, Judith assumed he was a churchgoing man. Apparently she’d been wrong, for in the month he’d been living in Parryville, she had not seen him at church even once.
“‘Mornin’, Miss King!” Beth called with a cheery wave.
Judith nodded at her student and smiled. Already she had a fondness for those she taught, and she truly liked living and working in this small town near the canal. Reverend and Mrs. Jacobs had made her feel right at home, although their identical twin daughters could be a little trying at times. On more than one occasion, Melody and Melissa had attempted to fool their teacher by taking on the other sister’s identity, but Judith had finally figured out who was who.
She continued walking toward the church, as she thought about the past week and how the atmosphere in the classroom had changed since they had begun using the letter box. The children seemed more attentive, and they were getting to know one another better.
Judith reflected on the way she had handled the unsigned letter from the child who wished Teacher could be his or her mama. She’d waited until the end of the day to respond to the letters that weren’t signed. Since there was only enough time left to read a couple, the personal one about her was left unread.
The following day, Judith had made a new rule. “Starting today, I will answer all letters addressed to me, even if they aren’t signed. My replies will be written and put inside another box, and I’ll set both boxes on a shelf inside the coatroom. If you write an unsigned letter and want an answer, you may look for it in the reply box.”
In response to the letter about her being someone’s mama, Judith had written:
Dear Student:
It’s nice to know you would like me to be your mother. Even though that’s not possible, I care about you and everyone in my class.
Miss King
Judith pulled her thoughts aside, as she climbed the steps and entered the church. Reverend Jacobs was inside the foyer, and he greeted her with a smile. “May I speak with you a moment, Judith?”
“Of course.” She followed the pastor to the other side of the room, where they could talk in private.
“I’ve just learned that Margaret Jones fell on the ice and broke her leg last night,” he said.
Judith frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Margaret has been teaching our girls’ Sunday school class for the past year, but she’ll have to give up teaching for a while.” He tugged on the end of his dark mustache. “I was wondering if you might consider taking over for her.”
Judith didn’t hesitate. “I’d be happy to, although I’m not prepared with anything today.”
“Could you read them a story from the Bible and have them draw a picture of what they’ve learned?”
Judith didn’t want to leave any little girl without a Sunday school teacher, so she agreeably nodded.
“Thank you. I appreciate that.” Reverend Jacobs pointed down the hall. “The girls meet in the last room on the left.”
Judith was prepared to head in that direction when she noticed Ernie and his children enter the building. Her heart pounded as their gazes met. What was there about the man that fascinated her so? They were as different as her unmatched eyes. She was a schoolteacher who carefully chose her words—Ernie worked the canal and often spoke in broken sentences. She was tall and unattractive—he was ruggedly handsome and strong. Yet Ernie’s apparent love for his children and his friendly smile had touched Judith’s heart from the moment they had first met.
“Good morning. How are you, Ernie?” Judith asked when he and his children came alongside her.
“Fair to middlin’.” He stared down at his boots. “Are my kids doin’ okay in school?”
She glanced at his children and smiled. “I believe they are.”
“I like the letter box, Teacher,” Grace said.
“I’m glad.” Judith tapped Andy on the shoulder. “How about you? Do you still think our letter box is a good idea?”
He shrugged. “Did at first, but some of the kids write sissy stuff.”
“Letter box?” Ernie tipped his head and gave Judith a curious look.
She quickly explained what the box was and how it worked.
Ernie rubbed his chin, which Judith noticed had again been recently shaved. Only this time there were no nicks or bloody scabs.
“Hmm … might be a good idea,” he mumbled.
She nodded. “I believe some of the children have been able to say things they might not have had the courage to say in person.”
“I wrote a letter once, but I didn’t sign—” Grace’s cheeks turned bright red, and she covered her mouth with the back of her hand.
Judith didn’t wish to cause the child further embarrassment, so she reached for Grace’s hand. “Starting today, I’ll be teaching the girls’ Sunday school class, so if you’d like to come along, we can go there now.”
“How ’bout me
and the boy?” Ernie motioned to Andy, who stood off to one side fidgeting with the stocking cap he held in his hands.
“I believe Deacon Miller teaches the class for the boys, which is somewhere down the hall. I can help Andy find it when Grace and I go to our class.” She nodded toward the sanctuary. “Reverend Jacobs meets with the men in there, while Mrs. Jacobs teaches the women in another classroom.”
Ernie opened his mouth, like he might want to say something more, but he shrugged and headed for the sanctuary instead.
Judith led the way down the hall, with Andy and Grace at her side.
Ernie took a seat on a pew in the back row, feeling self-conscious and as out of place as a snowball in summer. He hadn’t been in Sunday school for many years. He had brought his children to church several times, although it was mostly during the winter months when they lived in town. He knew it was time for the kids to get regular Bible learning, and he figured they would receive a lot more in Sunday school than what he could teach them at home.
Ernie glanced at his faded blue trousers. They were the only pair he had that didn’t have holes or a noticeable stain. The white shirt he wore had fit him at one time, but after many washings in too hot of water, it had shrunk. The cuffs were now several inches above his wrists.
“It’s good to see you this morning,” Reverend Jacobs said, tapping him on the shoulder. “Wouldn’t you like to move up closer so you can hear the lesson better?”
Ernie noticed that all the other men had taken seats in the first two rows. Reluctantly he stood and followed the pastor up front, easing himself onto a third-row pew and trying not to look conspicuous.
Sure hope the preacher don’t ask me no questions, he thought with a frown. I read a few Bible verses every day and have memorized some, but when it comes to speakin’ out loud, I’d sound like a dimwit.
“Our lesson today will be from Proverbs,” the pastor announced. “So if you will open your Bibles to chapter 16, we’ll take turns reading.”
A trickle of sweat rolled down Ernie’s forehead, as he heard the rustle of pages. Maybe he won’t call on me. And if he does, I’ll just say I left my Bible at home, which won’t be a lie.
“In this passage of scripture, one verse I’d like to bring out has to do with the way we talk,” Reverend Jacobs said. “Henry Bonner, would you read verse 24?”
Henry, a tall, heavyset bank teller, stood and cleared his throat real loud.
“‘Pleasant words are as an honeycomb, sweet to the soul, and health to the bones.’”
“Now if the kind words we speak are pleasant enough to be health to our bones, what might our unkind words be compared to?” The preacher’s gaze traveled from one man to the other.
Ernie knew the answer to that, but he wasn’t about to raise his hand.
“Let’s turn back to chapter 15.” Reverend Jacobs nodded at Frank Gookins, who Ernie knew was also a canaler. “Would you read verse 1?”
Ernie held his breath, waiting to see what Frank would do. The man was as uneducated as Ernie. Surely he would refuse to read out loud.
Frank stood, and in a faltering voice he said, “‘A soft… uh … answer turn-eth a-way wrath: but grieve … uh… grieve…’”
“Grievous,” the pastor said patiently.
“‘But griev-ous words—stir up—anger.’” Frank closed the Bible and flopped onto the pew with a look of relief.
Reverend Jacobs smiled. “Thank you, Frank.”
Ernie groaned inwardly. He felt sorry for poor Frank but was relieved it hadn’t been him the pastor called on.
“This is what we’ve learned,” Reverend Jacobs continued. “If our words are pleasant, they will be like honeycomb, bringing health to the bones. If our words are grievous, they will stir up anger.”
Ernie thought about his helper. Jeb could cut a body down with only a few words. It was a good thing the man wasn’t in charge of the canal boat because there were times when more than one boat arrived at the lock gates. Ernie could only imagine how Jeb would handle things if he were the boss. He’d probably shake his fist at the other captain and holler, “Get your boat outta my way, or I’ll box your ears!”
Ernie stared at his calloused hands. I may not know lots of big words, but them that do come from my mouth oughta be kind. I’ll need to keep prayin’ for Jeb and try to set a good example.
On Monday morning, Judith was surprised to see Ernie walk up to the schoolhouse with his children. She knew he’d been busy cutting ice, and lately Grace and Andy had come to school by themselves.
“Good morning, Ernie. Good morning, children,” she said with a smile.
“Mornin’,” they responded in unison.
The children scampered into the classroom, but their father lingered a few moments on the porch. “Is there something you want to say, Ernie?” Judith asked.
He jammed his hands into his jacket pocket and rocked back and forth on the heels of his boots. “Well, I … uh … was wonderin’ if—”
Carl and Eric raced past just then, bumping into Ernie and knocking him against Judith.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, trying to regain her balance.
Ernie grabbed her around the waist. “Are … are you okay?”
The man’s face was red like an apple, and Judith figured hers was, too. “I–I’m fine,” she said breathlessly.
Ernie released his hold on her, and she took a step back. “Guess I’d best be goin’,” he mumbled.
“But I thought you wanted to ask me something.”
“It weren’t nothin’ important.” He shook his head and hurried away.
Judith shivered, realizing how cold she’d become standing on the porch with no wrap. “I wish I knew what Ernie had planned to say,” she murmured. “He certainly is a man of few words.”
CHAPTER 6
While the children were outside during afternoon recess, Judith sat at her desk, reading the letters she had found in the letter box earlier. Two were unsigned, both asking questions about whom the teacher thought was her best student.
“Strange,” Judith murmured. “Either the same person wrote both letters, or two students are competing for my attention.”
She figured it was probably Melody and Melissa. The twins were competitive, and Judith had noticed several times at home the girls often argued and tried to get one of their parents to take a side.
Judith turned the notes over and wrote the same response on each one:
Dear Student:
I care about all the children in my class, and it wouldn’t be right to have one favorite. Keep doing your best, and you will learn much.
Miss King
Loud voices in the schoolyard captured Judith’s attention, and she set her pencil and paper aside. Opening the front door, she stepped onto the porch. Several of the boys raced around the yard shaking their fists and hollering at one another.
“He did it!”
“No, it was your fault.”
“He started it.”
“No way—it was you!”
A few of the girls leaned over the porch and pointed, like there might be someone or something beneath them.
“What happened?” Judith asked, easing her body between Melody and Karen.
“It’s Andy Snyder,” Melody replied. “Roger shoved him off the porch, and now the bully’s bein’ chased by some of the other boys who know what he did to Andy was wrong.”
Judith’s heart lurched when she saw Andy lying on the ground, whimpering and holding his right arm. She hurried down the steps and knelt to examine the boy. His arm was red and starting to swell, but it didn’t look like it was out of place. “Andy, is it true that Roger pushed you?”
The child nodded, as tears rolled down his cheeks.
Love Finds a Home (Anthologies) Page 10