A Merry Heart (9 page)

“Of course not. I’d never do something like that.”

He snickered. “Yeah, right, and frogs walk on their hind legs, too.”

“You would tell me if there was someone special, wouldn’t you, Nicky?”

“Sure I would, but there’s nothing to tell. I’m a contented bachelor and plan to stay one for as long as possible.”

“You’ll change your tune one of these days when the right woman comes along.”

A vision of Miriam Stoltzfus leaped into Nick’s mind, and he blinked several times, trying to dispel it. She wasn’t the right woman for him; he knew that much. She couldn’t be, because they were worlds apart.

I
t was hard to believe it was August already and that today was the first day of school. Every year, the first day seemed a little hectic and unorganized, and today was certainly no exception. There were several new children in Miriam’s class, and since they were first graders and knew only their Pennsylvania Dutch language, they needed to be taught English. This took extra time on the teacher’s part, and it meant the older students must do more work on their own.

Mary Ellen Hilty was in the second grade and already knew her English fairly well, but she still lacked the discipline and attention span to work on her own for long. From her seat in the second row, the child raised her hand and called out, “Teacher Mim, I need your help.”

Miriam tapped her foot impatiently and frowned. She was busy helping Joanna and Nancy with the letters of the alphabet and didn’t want to be disturbed.

“Teacher!” Mary Ellen called again.

Miriam put her finger to her lips. “One minute, Mary Ellen. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Mary Ellen nodded, folded her hands, and placed them on top of her desk.

When Miriam finished with her explanation to the younger girls, she moved across the room and squatted beside Mary Ellen’s desk. “What is it you need?”

“I don’t know what this word is.” The child pointed to the open primer in front of her.

“That word is
grandfather
,” Miriam answered. “You must learn to sound it out. Gr–and–fa–ther.”

Mary Ellen looked up at Miriam, her hazel eyes round and large. “My grandpa and grandma Zeeman live far away. Grandpa and Grandma Hilty live in heaven with Jesus. So does Mama.”

Miriam saw a look of sadness on the child’s face she’d never seen before. Usually there was a light in Mary Ellen’s eyes and a sweet smile on her lips. She felt pity for the little girl, knowing she had no one but Amos to look after her. No one but him to love.

The light came back to Mary Ellen’s eyes as quickly as it had faded. “Danki—I mean, thank you for helping me, Teacher Mim.”

Miriam gently touched the child’s arm, pleased that she had remembered to use only English words in her sentence. “You’re welcome.”

Back at her own desk, Miriam found herself watching Mary Ellen instead of grading the morning spelling papers lying before her. The child never looked terribly unkempt, but her hair always showed telltale signs of not being secured tightly enough in the bun at the back of her head. Her face was always scrubbed squeaky clean, which came as no surprise
to Miriam after watching Amos wash the child’s face that one Sunday morning in Sarah’s kitchen.

Miriam shook her head, bringing her thoughts back to the present. She had no desire to think about that day or to be reminded of the things Amos had said to her. Regardless of everyone’s denial, she was convinced that Amos’s interest in her was purely selfish. A mother for his little girl was what he wanted most. Though Mary Ellen was a dear child and Miriam did have a soft spot for her, it was certainly not enough reason to marry or even to allow the girl’s father to court her. A woman should be in love with the man she planned to marry, and that possibility seemed seriously doubtful for her.

Mary Ellen looked up and offered a warm, heart-melting smile, and Miriam found herself fighting the urge to rush across the room and hold the child in her arms. For one brief moment, she wanted to tell Mary Ellen that she would marry her daed and be her new mamm—that she would love her and take care of her needs. Instead, she turned her attention back to the spelling papers.
What was I thinking? The idea of me marrying Amos is just plain
narrisch—
crazy. I don’t love him, and he certainly doesn’t love me
.

Miriam knew her students always looked forward to lunchtime, but she dreaded pulling the rope for the noon bell, because she would no doubt be caught up in a stampede as they made a mad dash for their brightly colored lunch buckets. Today was no exception, and she fumed as soon as she pulled the bell and was nearly knocked over by one of the older boys.

“Slow down at once,” she scolded. “There’s no need for
you to rush like that.”

Kenneth Freisen grunted an apology, grabbed his lunch box, and walked slowly back to his seat.

It took only five minutes for the children to gobble down their lunches and scamper outside to play for the remaining twenty-five minutes of lunch break. Games of baseball, Drop the Hankie, and hopscotch could be seen being played around the school playground, while some of Miriam’s scholars took turns on the swings and teeter-totters.

Miriam stood at the window, watching the children and wondering if the ache she felt between her temples would turn into another one of her pounding migraine headaches. The day was only half over, and already she felt physically and emotionally drained. At moments like this, she wondered if teaching was really her intended calling in life. She often ran out of patience, and when she felt as she did today, she wondered if her mother could be right about her needing to find a husband and get married.

What am I thinking?
she chided herself.
Even if I did want to get married, which I don’t, I’m not in love with anyone, and I’ll never marry without love or trust—both of which I don’t feel for Amos
. She shrugged, deciding that her mood was only because it was the first day of school. In a few days when everything became routine again, she would be glad she was teaching school.

When a ruckus broke out in the school yard, Miriam’s thoughts came to a halt. She heard laughing and shouting, and when she went to the door, she saw several of the children standing in a circle.

Miriam hurried outside. “What’s the trouble?” she asked
Kenneth Freisen, who stood nearby.

“The girls were blabbing again.”

Miriam pulled two of the girls aside. That was when she noticed Mary Ellen standing in the middle of the circle. Tears streamed down the child’s flushed cheeks, and she sniffed between shaky sobs.

“Mary Ellen, what is it?”

“It. . .it’s all right, Teacher Mim. They didn’t mean it, I’m sure.” Mary Ellen managed a weak smile, even through her tears.

“Who didn’t mean it? Did someone hurt you?”

“Aw, she’s just a little crybaby.” Kenneth wrinkled his nose like some foul odor had permeated the air. “She can’t even take a bit of teasing.”

Miriam eyed him with suspicion. “Who was doing this teasing?”

“It wasn’t me, Teacher. It was the girls. Like I said before, they like to blab.”

“Which of you girls was involved, and what were you teasing Mary Ellen about?” Miriam’s patience was beginning to wane, and the pain in her head had increased. She feared the dizziness and nausea that usually followed would soon be upon her, as well.

The cluster of students remained quiet. Not one child stepped forward to announce his or her part in the teasing.

Miriam frowned and rubbed her forehead. “All right then, the entire class shall stay after school for thirty minutes.”

“But, that’s not fair! Why should we all be punished for somethin’ just a few of the girls said?” Kenneth wailed.

“I didn’t do nothin’, and I’ll be sent to the woodshed for
a
bletsching
if I come home late,” Karen Lederach whined. “My daed don’t like tardiness.”

“My mamm has chores waitin’ for me,” Grace Schrock put in.

Miriam looked at Mary Ellen. “Won’t you tell me now who’s guilty and what they said?”

Mary Ellen shuffled her feet a few times and motioned for Miriam to come closer. When Miriam bent down, the child whispered in her ear, “I’ll tell you in private what they said, but I can’t say who said it ’cause that would be tattling, and Pappy don’t like a
retschbeddi
. He’s warned me against being a tattler many times.” She smiled, but the expression never quite reached her tear-filled eyes. “He says the Bible tells us to do to others what we want done to us. I wouldn’t want someone to get me in trouble.”

Miriam took hold of Mary Ellen’s arm and led her inside the school building. Looking at the little girl’s sweet face brought a sense of longing to Miriam’s soul. She felt an unexplainable need to protect this child, and it went way beyond teacher to student. “All right, Mary Ellen. Please tell me what that was all about.”

Mary Ellen looked up at Miriam, and her chin trembled. “Some of the kinner noticed that I don’t dress like them.”

“What do you mean? You’re wearing the same Plain clothes as the rest of the girls in class.”

“Today I must have put my dress on backwards, and I never even knew it. That’s why some of ’em were laughing.” She bit her quivering lip. “But please don’t punish anyone on account of me, Teacher Mim.”

“I’ll worry about that later,” Miriam said, as she helped
the child out of her dress.
I should have noticed her dress was on backwards
.
What kind of teacher am I?

Once the dress was put on correctly, Miriam held Mary Ellen at arm’s length and scrutinized her. “You’ve set a good example for the entire class.” She tucked some stray hairs into the bun at the back of the child’s head. “I only wish the others would do the same.”

“I always try to do what’s right. It’s what God wants me to do.”

Miriam nodded, wondering how a child of Mary Ellen’s age could be so full of love and forgiveness, when she, an adult, struggled every day with bitterness and an inability to forgive.

Pushing the thoughts to the back of her mind, Miriam returned to the school yard to speak with her other students while Mary Ellen waited on the porch. “I hope you’ve all learned something today,” she said, shaking her finger. “No one will be required to stay after school this time, but if anything like this ever happens again, I will punish the entire class. I don’t care if you all have to go to the woodshed for a spanking when you get home. Is that clear?”

All heads nodded in unison.

“Now get back to your play. Lunchtime will be over soon.”

When Miriam stepped onto the porch, Mary Ellen smiled up at her. Miriam couldn’t help but offer a smile in return.
She really is a dear little girl. Mary Ellen, the heartsome
.
Even in the face of difficulty, she still has a forgiving heart
.

“It’s good to get out of that blistering sun awhile,” Henry
said as he washed up at the kitchen sink. “I was sweating buckets out there.”

Anna placed a platter of sandwiches on the table, as he turned to reach for a towel hanging on the handle of the refrigerator door. “I’d figured you and Lewis would not only be hungry for lunch but needing some time away from the hot, humid weather.”

“And speaking of lunch, I’m hungry enough to eat everything on the table,” Lewis said, sneaking up behind his mother and giving her a squeeze.

She chuckled. “The Good Lord may have only blessed me and your daed with four kinner, but ever since you could eat solid food, you’ve been packing away enough for ten.”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration, wouldn’t ya say, Anna?” Henry asked, joining them at the table. “It might have been better to say that our youngest son was born with a hole in his leg.”

“
Puh!
” Lewis waved a hand. “You’re both exaggerating.”

As soon as they were all seated, they bowed their heads for silent prayer. When Henry cleared his throat so the others would know he was done, Anna passed the platter of sandwiches around.

“I wonder how things are goin’ for our daughter at the schoolhouse today,” Henry said, snatching two bologna sandwiches off the plate, then handing it over to Lewis. “She seemed kind of naerfich today.”

“Miriam’s always a little nervous on the first day of school because she never knows how things will go with the scholars,” Anna said, reaching for the pitcher of goat’s milk and pouring some into each of their glasses.

Lewis bit into his sandwich and washed it down with a gulp of milk. “I remember when I was a boy attending the one-room schoolhouse. I always looked forward to the first day of school.”

Henry shook his finger at Lewis. “That’s because you couldn’t wait to tease the girls.” He reached for the bowl of cut-up vegetables and plopped two carrots and a handful of radishes onto his plate. “I’m surprised you haven’t honed in on one of them girls and gotten married by now.”

Lewis’s face turned red as a tomato, but he said not a word. Anna had a hunch he’d already found that special girl and was probably secretly courting her. Of course Lewis wasn’t likely to volunteer such information, and she wouldn’t embarrass him by asking.

“Maybe being back to teaching will make our daughter feel happier,” Henry said, bringing the subject back to Miriam again. “I hate seeing her so down-in-the-mouth all the time.”