Standing straight, she moved toward the front of the room, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. “Scholars, we’d like to willkomm our visitors to our school. Will you please put away your studies now and stand at the front of the room?”
There was a slight rustling as the children did as she asked. As usual, they would sing a couple of songs for their guests, then go outside. Some of the children would go home to do their evening chores while others would play in the yard until their parents were ready to leave. They’d been rehearsing their songs and Becca had reminded them of the board meeting earlier that morning, so they were prepared.
She stood beside her desk, waiting for the scholars to line up with the oldest and tallest students in the back and the younger children in the front. They all looked so earnest, eager and innocent as they waited for her signal. And she loved each and every one of them. How she would miss them when the school year ended and she had to leave to find employment elsewhere.
Lifting her hand, she hummed a note to give them their starting key, then led them in two German songs. Their voices rang out in unison, sweet and melodious. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw Jesse watching his son with unblinking eyes. The man’s countenance was one of rapt attention and appreciation. In spite of his gruffness, she knew he loved the little boy very much.
The other parents in the room wore similar expressions. Like any caring parent, they adored their children. And a quiet pain settled within Becca’s chest. Yes, she’d chosen the teaching profession. It was a career she hoped to embrace and excel at. One that would support her financially throughout her life. But teaching was also a labor of love. She took her responsibilities seriously, to mold her young scholars into upstanding Amish people. But a part of her ached with emptiness. All her life, she had hoped to marry a kind, loving man and hold her own children within her arms. Now, it seemed that would never happen. Because Vernon had broken her heart, she didn’t dare trust another man again. And at times like this, she had trouble accepting that.
During church the previous Sunday, the sermon had been out of the Gospel of Matthew. Ask and it shall be given you, seek and ye shall find. It occurred to Becca that, if she wanted to remain in Riverton, she should ask the Lord and exercise faith that He could make it happen.
The last note of the song ended and Becca lowered her arm and smiled at her students. “Danke, scholars. You have done well today and are now dismissed from school. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
The children put on their coats and gathered up their bags and lunch pails before racing outside. Their laughter rang through the air as they closed the door behind them.
As if on cue, the school board members stood and walked to the front of the room. With their long beards and black frock coats, the three fathers looked a bit intimidating. As was their habit, they sat facing Becca’s desk.
Forcing herself to retain her composure, Becca picked up her notebook and pencil and waited for Bishop Yoder to conduct the meeting. She presented a list of supplies and they discussed a couple of discipline problems.
“I understand my son Caleb has been acting up in school,” the bishop said.
Becca nodded. “Ja, he and Enos have caused a couple of disturbances in the past.”
“They are not causing trouble now?”
“Ne, lately they have been gut as can be. In fact, I assigned both boys as reading and math partners with some of the younger scholars and they both seem to have taken this task quite seriously. I have had no more problems with either boy for some time now.”
“Gut. I had heard there was a problem and waited for you to speak with me about it, but you never did,” he said.
A moment of confusion filled her mind. Had she made a mistake by not talking to him about it sooner?
“I... I wanted to handle it myself, if possible. And it turns out that everything is fine now. The boys are being very well-behaved.”
Hopefully, the board members were impressed enough with how she had handled the situation that they would write her a good teaching recommendation for a future position somewhere else.
“I am happy to hear this news. You are to be commended for how you have dealt with the problem,” Bishop Yoder said.
Becca couldn’t help feeling pleased by the bishop’s praise. Not only did she highly respect this man but she also wanted to do a good job. She desired to help her students become better people.
The other two board members nodded their agreement and Bishop Yoder turned to face the rest of the parents in the room.
“Are there any other issues that need to be brought to our attention?” he asked.
No one spoke but Jesse stood, signaling he wished to make a comment.
“Ja, what is it?” Bishop Yoder asked in a kind tone.
“Ahem.” Jesse cleared his throat and shifted his booted feet nervously. “I just wanted to say that Miss Graber has gone out of her way to provide extra tutoring for my Sam. She’s done a wundervoll job working with him and he’s even speaking a little bit now and then. I wanted the school board to know how grateful I am that you hired such a willing, capable teacher for our children.”
A couple of the mothers in the room nodded their agreement. Becca stared, completely overwhelmed. She couldn’t believe Jesse had gone out of his way to give her a good review. He seemed so harsh. So disapproving and downright difficult at times. And then he went and did something so kind and generous. And just in time too. There was only one month left before school let out for the summer. She was beyond grateful for what he’d done.
“Danke. It has been my pleasure to work with Sam and the other scholars. They’re great kids and I care deeply for each one of them,” she said, retaining her professional demeanor.
And she meant every word. She loved teaching. Loved serving these amazing children. She just wished she could stay in Riverton and teach them next year too. But Caroline Schwartz was out of the hospital and walking with the help of a walker. She’d possibly need the aid of a cane for the rest of her life but she was healing and would be back in the fall. There was no other position for Becca in this community. In order to support herself, she’d have to leave the area.
She’d have to leave Jesse and little Sam too. And though she didn’t understand why, that thought made her feel so sad and forlorn that she wanted to cry.
The meeting ended soon after and Jesse slipped out the door before she could catch him to thank him privately for what he’d said. She watched him go, thinking maybe it was for the best. He was still hurting over the deaths of his wife and daughters. He had his hands full with Sam and making a go of his farm. He had no room in his life or his heart for an opinionated schoolteacher like Becca. And yet, she couldn’t help wishing he did.
* * *
As promised, Jesse arrived early the following Monday to teach the fire safety class. He parked his buggy in the back and Sam helped him carry a couple of fire extinguishers into the schoolhouse. As they crossed the graveled yard, Jesse watched his little son race toward the front door, his arms filled with his lunch pail and a red extinguisher. The boy was smiling, eager to get inside and greet Becca. And Jesse couldn’t help thinking how happy his son was lately. In fact, Jesse felt happier too. And though he didn’t fully understand why, he sensed that it was partly due to Becca and her gentle influence in their lives.
“Guder mariye! I’m so glad you’re here.” She greeted them with her usual cheery disposition.
Jesse returned her smile. He couldn’t help himself. She was depending on him and he wanted to do a good job for her.
“I’ve cleared the top of my desk, so you have a place to set your things during your presentation.” She eyed the two red standard fire extinguishers he held.
“Danke but I won’t need much room. This is for you. For the schoolhouse.” He held one of the extinguishers out to her.
She took it
and looked up into his eyes. He felt transfixed by her gaze.
“That’s very kind of you,” she said, her voice seeming to come from a haze.
He cleared his throat and moved away, trying to focus on the task at hand. Sam set the third fire extinguisher he’d been carrying on top of a desk, then picked up the wood bucket from beside the cold potbellied stove. He hurried outside to collect some firewood and kindling, just as Jesse had asked him to do before they’d arrived.
The students came in, doffing their jackets and placing their lunch pails on the shelf beneath the coatracks. They talked quietly together as they took their seats. Jesse stood silently at the side of the classroom and watched as Becca greeted each and every scholar. She asked them questions pertaining to their lives. One had a new baby sister at home and another one had found an injured starling they were caring for. It seemed she knew everything about these children’s lives and took a genuine interest in them.
Sam returned with the wood bucket and set it beside the stove. Jesse was surprised when he waved to Caleb Yoder. The older boy smiled back before sliding into his seat.
Becca stood at the front of the room and folded her hands together as she lifted her chin higher in the air. The children quickly took their seats.
“Scholars, we have a special guest with us today. Mr. King is a certified firefighter from Pennsylvania. He has agreed to teach us some fire safety techniques. And I know you’ll be extra polite and give him your undivided attention.” With a satisfied nod, she stepped aside and sat at an empty desk near the front of the room.
Okay, Jesse was on. He cleared his throat and stood, gazing into each earnest face. They seemed so eager to learn. And he couldn’t help thinking about the lesson he’d heard at church the day before. The minister had preached from the book of Matthew: Ask and it shall be given you, seek and you shall find. Jesse had been pondering the powerful message ever since. He’d been tempted to speak with Becca about the topic. It seemed he gravitated to her whenever she was near, yet something held him back. His love and loyalty for his wife. His own sense of guilt. Surely the message from the Gospel of Matthew was for other people, not for him. But then again, maybe he was wrong.
“Danke for inviting me here today,” he said, trying to gather his courage. After all, it had been over a year since he’d had anything to do with the firefighting world and he wasn’t sure he was ready for this experience. But no matter. He was here and would do his best.
“The first thing I want to teach you is how to ensure your stove and flue is clean.” He stepped over to the cold potbellied stove and pointed at the filled wood bucket Sam had set there just minutes before.
“The wood bucket should never be this close to the stove. It should always be at least two or three arms’ lengths away. That way, an errant spark from the stove won’t strike the wood that’s in the bucket and catch fire.”
To emphasize his point, he moved the wood bucket several yards away, to the side of the classroom. Earlier, he had asked Sam to put the bucket right next to the stove so he could make this point. And he was pleased that his son had followed his instructions exactly. He glanced at his boy and found him watching intently. As a way of saying thank you, he smiled and winked at his son. Sam smiled back, looking pleased to have helped.
“Gather around me so you can see how to check the chimney flue to see if it needs cleaning.” Jesse beckoned to the students and they instantly did as he asked.
Over the next thirty minutes, Jesse taught them the proper way to check the chimney flue for cleaning and showed them how to adjust the damper so they could control the amount of heat and smoke they got out of the fire.
“At this time of year, it’s a bit warmer so you don’t need as much heat from the fire. Back east, we used hard woods like oak and maple in our fires. Here in Colorado, we’re burning Ponderosa Pine because it’s plentiful in the area and easy to gather. But it’s a soft wood that burns relatively fast. It’s also a heavy soot builder, so the flue needs to be cleaned more frequently. I recommend four times per year,” he explained.
The children listened intently to every word he said. When he remembered that first week when Becca had just started teaching here and he’d entered the school to find the students in absolute chaos, he was impressed by the order she had since established.
As the kids crowded close to see, he held up a book of matches. He was amazed that, without being asked, the older, taller students had put the younger, shorter children closest to him so they could see better. Sam stood nearby, watching his every move.
“When you start a fire inside your house or another building, you should never, ever use an accelerant such as kerosene or gasoline. It can explode out on you and burn you and the entire building. And do not play with matches. They aren’t a toy and can burn your entire house down. Don’t ever do it! I can’t emphasize this enough,” he said.
His words were a reminder of what his familye had gone through over a year earlier. A hard lump formed in his throat as he knelt before the stove to show the students how to clean out the ashes. When that was done, he discussed the proper way to start a fire and laid some wrinkled newspaper and kindling in the stove. His voice sounded calm and even as he talked but his hands were trembling. Looking up, he saw Becca watching him closely. Her forehead was furrowed and her eyes crinkled in a frown of concern.
Lifting the book of matches, he pulled one from the packet and scraped it across the coarse striking area. A little whoosh sounded as the match lit with fire. A commotion came from behind him and he turned, the match going out.
Sam stood there, his eyes wide with terror, his face contorted in absolute anguish. He had backed up, knocking into two of the older kids. What was wrong with him?
“Sam?” Jesse called.
Had lighting a single match frightened his son? It shouldn’t. But even Jesse felt a slight tremor in his arms and legs. Though he started all the fires at his house, he still disliked the chore. And then it dawned on him that Sam was never in the room with him when he started fires at home. Although the child brought in plenty of wood and kindling, he was always absent until the fire was going and the door to the stove was shut.
A small cry escaped Sam’s throat. Without explanation, the boy whirled around and pushed through the wall of students. When he finally made his way out into the open area of the classroom, he raced toward the exit. Throwing the door open wide, he ran out into the schoolyard.
Jesse stood, his lesson on fire safety all but forgotten. He was about to run after his son but Becca held out a hand.
“I’ll go after him. Please, continue your demonstration,” she said.
He blinked in confusion as she hurried after his son. She closed the door behind her. Out of the wide windows surrounding the room, he saw a flash of her skirts as she ran behind the building.
A sniffle brought his attention back to the students. They stared at him in confusion, their eyes wide with worry.
“Is Sam gonna be allrecht, Mr. King?” little Andy Yoder asked.
Jesse showed a confident smile he didn’t feel. “Ja, he’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Now, let’s continue with our lesson.”
He put his thoughts on involuntary reflex, discussing the fire extinguishers he’d brought and how the children should aim them at the base of the flame. Then, he taught them how to recognize the exits of a building and escape a burning room in orderly fashion rather than panicking and trampling one another underfoot. He had them each get down low to the floor where they could breathe fresh air when smoke filled the room so they could crawl toward the exit. Then, he took them outside to teach them how to properly dispose of the ashes from their fires.
Out in the schoolyard, he looked around for some sign of Becca and Sam. He saw them some distance away, sitting on the banks of the creek that meandered past the bishop’s property. Hearing his voice, they stood and Becca held Sam’s
hand as the two of them rejoined the group of students. Sam’s eyes were red from crying and he wouldn’t meet Jesse’s eyes. Instead, the boy stared at the ground. An overwhelming urge to take his little boy into his arms and comfort him swept over Jesse. In the past, he would have resisted. But not now. Not today. Becca had taught Jesse to have more compassion. He didn’t need to be as stern as his father had been with him.
Interrupting his lecture, he swept his son into his arms and hugged him tight, whispering in his ear for his hearing alone.
“It’s going to be okay, sohn. I love you,” Jesse said.
Hearing his words, Sam softened in his arms. Jesse set the boy back on his feet next to Becca. She nodded her approval as he returned to his lesson. His heart felt a bit lighter and he knew he’d done the right thing by showing some affection toward Sam. If nothing else, it showed the boy that he wasn’t angry with him.
“If there’s a fire in the schoolhouse, do you have an assigned place to gather outside so your teacher can count you and know that everyone got out safely?” he asked the group.
The children gazed at him with blank expressions.
“Ne, but we will assign a place right now,” Becca said. “What about right here where we are standing in the middle of the play area?”
Jesse shook his head, a feeling of gratitude filling his heart. Though he pretended to act normal, he was beyond grateful to Becca for helping him with Sam.
“This isn’t a gut place. It’s too close to the schoolhouse. I suggest you meet over here, far away from any potentially burning structures.” He walked over to the baseball diamond and stood on the home plate.
“Ja, I see what you mean. This is an open area, far away from any buildings, where we can easily be seen,” Becca said.
The Amish Teacher's Dilemma and Healing Their Amish Hearts Page 31