The Promise Box (21 page)

Lydia smiled as she turned off the phone. She could almost picture Dat and Gideon’s
faces as they read God’s story in her life—the parts they knew—and the parts that
might surprise them.

Then she hurried back to bed and pushed her pillow against the wall, leaning against
it. There was a lot to capture today in her words. School, the visit from Gideon,
the kiss, and the sharing of her heart with another. It was a day of highs and lows,
but wasn’t everyone’s story?

Lydia took the cap off the top of the pen and began to write.

A
gentle rain plunked against the metal roof of the schoolhouse, and Lydia’s soul felt
as if it, too, were being washed by rain from the heavens. She lit the lanterns and
woodstove and soon the small building radiated with warmth.

At first, after hearing Gideon’s story—and sharing hers—the truth had stung. It reminded
Lydia of the time when she was a little girl and skinned her knee by falling off the
concrete steps at the grocery. Bits of dirt and rocks had embedded themselves into
the wound.

At home Mem had taken soap, water, and a clean cloth to the cut. The cleaning had
stung, and it was only when she stopped crying and looked up that she saw tears had
been in Mem’s eyes too.

“I’m so sorry, dear one,” Mem had said. “But you can’t heal unless the junk is cleaned
out. If I were to let it be, an infection would surely come,
ja
.”

Had God said the same thing yesterday? Lydia’s lower lip trembled as she pictured
tears in His eyes. Thinking of that warmed her even more than the woodstove.

By letting so much of her past go unattended, the wounds
had only gotten worse. Yesterday was just the first step of getting the junk out,
but she trusted that God would continue to work from there.

She pulled corrected papers from her satchel and laid them out on the students’ desks,
humming as she did. It was only as she returned to her desk to spend a few minutes
writing in her journal that Lydia realized the song she’d been humming. It was the
hymn that the congregation had read together at Mem’s funeral.

The words resonated in her heart, and she was struck again by how far God had brought
her. Not only here to Montana, but steps closer to a healed heart too.

Lydia sat down with her notebook and pen.

Lydia wrote for a few minutes more and then thought of a quote her teacher Miss Yoder
had taught her once. It seemed to summarize what she’d been feeling.

She wrote the new quote on the blackboard: “
Friendship is a lamp which shines most brightly when all else is dark
.”

Maybe the relationships she experienced now—with Dat, with Gideon, with her neighbors—shined
brighter because of the dark times she’d walked through. Lydia had a feeling they
did.

She held her breath in eager anticipation as the students began to arrive. Yet before
the first hour was through, she was already counting the minutes until the first recess
break.

The newness of their teacher had worn off, and while all the kids wiggled in their
seats, it was the oldest boys who caused the most trouble. Part men—mostly boys—Andy
and David whispered about hunting season to come while Lydia was trying to read a
story aloud. They sketched pictures of guns and bullets on their math homework. Lydia
knew their influence was rubbing off on the other kids when the younger boys broke
off their erasers into the shape of guns and started chasing each other around the
room with them during their indoor recess.

At lunch, Lydia was just about to raise her voice and ban all talk of hunting when
Gideon walked through the door.

“You’ve come to rescue me.” She hurried to him with her
lunch pail swinging at her side. “I’ll pay you in chocolate chip cookies if you go
back and get your ropes and halters for these boys.”

“That bad?”

She shrugged. “I suppose they aren’t horrible, but I can’t imagine two more months
of this until hunting season starts.”

Gideon’s eyes twinkled. “I imagine that would get them excited, especially since ‘hunter
safety’ starts tonight.”

“Is that it? I was blaming the rain.” Lydia placed an open palm on her forehead. “It
makes sense. But the whole room has been disrupted this morning.”

Gideon scanned the room. “Which one is the problem?”

“Well, all of the boys are caught up in the act, but…” Lydia looked around the room
at the children eating at their desks. “I’d have to say that David Sommer is the one
who gets the others started.”

“Him?” Gideon pointed to the tall boy with blond hair and hazel eyes.

“
Ja
.”

Before she knew what was happening, Gideon strode across the room to David.

“Son, can I talk to you for a minute?”

The boy paused with the sandwich halfway to his mouth. “Uh, yessir.”

They moved to the front covered porch, leaving the door cracked open. Lydia hung around
the back, straightening up the kids’ boots and backpacks, trying to hear what Gideon
was going to say.

Gideon squatted before David. “David, that was a full classroom back there, wasn’t
it?” Gideon’s voice mixed with the sound of rain as it carried through the doorway.

“
Ja
.”

“Full of what?”

“Books, desks, kids.”

Lydia could imagine him shrugging.

“Big kids or little kids?”

“Little. All smaller than me. ‘Cept for Andy. We’re the same age.”

The rain let up some, and the plinking on the metal roof lessened, making it easier
for Lydia to hear. “Do they look up to you like I’m looking up to you now?”

“Yessir.”

“Do you think they respect you?”

“Uh, yessir.”

She glanced out the window. Gideon’s back was to her, but Lydia could see David’s
nose wrinkled up. He eyed Gideon and wiggled from side to side as if worry scampered
up his spine like a rogue lizard.

“Do you think that if you climbed to the top of the roof and wanted to jump, they’d
want to try it too?”

“Yessir, some of them.”

“But you wouldn’t do that because you know that some would get hurt.”

“No, sir, of course I wouldn’t do that.”

“Well, your attitude is just as interesting to them. Those kids in there are looking
up to you. You can bet they’re watching how you treat Miss Wyse. You’re leading them,
son, and they’ll be sure to follow too.”

“I never thought of it like that.”

Lydia stepped closer to the window, curious as to where the conversation was going.

“So are you going to be a
gut
example, David?”

“Yes sir.”

“
Danki
. I knew I could count on you.”

There was movement, and Lydia stepped away from the window so Gideon wouldn’t see
her spying on them. She couldn’t see what was happening, but she imagined Gideon standing
and patting the young man’s shoulder.

“Sir, is Miss Wyse your sweetheart?”

A smile filled Lydia’s face at the question, and she covered her mouth with her hand
to halt her laughter.

“
Vell
, I guess you can say that. She is pretty special.”

“My sister Marianna was right. She said she saw you looking at Miss Wyse the other
day at church and your eyes were as big as Mrs. Carash’s prize tomatoes.”

Gideon chuckled. “That must be big, all right, and you can tell your sister she’s
pretty smart.”

Lydia heard footsteps. She turned and hurried to the front of the room toward the
chalkboard, but it was too late. The door swung open and Gideon and David entered.
Behind her, Gideon cleared his throat. She paused her steps and looked back over her
shoulder.

“Caught you!” David laughed and pointed, then hurried back to be with his friends.
He wore a soft smile as he passed her. Lydia knew David would probably try to be kinder
and more respectful, and his trying would be helpful indeed.

“Finish up your lunch, children. Start cleaning up your board games. Your lunch break
is over in five minutes.”

With hesitant steps she approached Gideon. “
Ja
, as large as tomatoes.” She placed a hand over her heart and then swallowed hard.
“A
gut
description.”

“I didn’t think you were listening.”

“I’m glad I was.”

“Really, why’s that?”

“Because it’s
gut
to know I’m not the only one feeling jest so. I’m glad to know you have a sweetheart,
and it’s me.
Now…” She placed her hand on her hips. “I know you just made my day easier, but what
did you really come for?”

“I wanted to see if you’d like to go on a short hike—maybe Saturday? Edgar claims
it’ll be our last good day before the cold days of fall claim their place.”

Lydia’s lips pursed. “I’d love to, but I already promised to go to a quilting bee.”

“Sunday afternoon, then?”

“
Ja
, that sounds like a plan, but after listening to these boys’ stories, I’m not sure
if I want to venture out in those woods. And look at this.” She moved to her desk
and Gideon followed. Lydia smiled as she picked up Josiah Sommer’s multiplication
sheet. He had written on the top:
If you do hike bring bear spray, make nose, and don’t go alone
.

Gideon chuckled and lowered his voice. “‘Make nose’?”

“I’m sure he meant ‘noise’ but I think they’re trying to scare me.”

Gideon scanned the youngsters who chatted as they cleaned up their board games. “And
why would they do that?”

“Maybe because they know I’m not from around here and they think it’ll be funny to
scare the teacher.”

“There is that.” Gideon winked. “Or I could have paid them to scare you…so that when
we do go on a hike, you’ll stay right by my side and cling to me the whole way up
the mountain.”

Lydia laughed and shook her head. “I wouldn’t be surprised, Gideon. I wouldn’t be
surprised.”

O
nly two days had passed and Lydia was already wishing that Gideon would return. But
it wasn’t the boys who were causing trouble this time. Instead it was the littlest
ones in the group. It had started when Lydia began working with the two youngest girls,
teaching them to write complete sentences. They’d mastered their letters. Wasn’t this
a good next step?

Ellie stared at the paper. Instead of writing with her pencil, she put it down and
watched it roll off her desk. Behind her one of the boys snickered.

Lydia turned and glared at Josiah. “Please don’t encourage your sister.”

“Sorry, Miss Wyse.”

“Ellie, can you pick up the pencil, please?”

Ellie shook her head. “
Ne
.”

“Can you speak English, please?”

Ellie folded her arms and lowered her head onto them. “
Ne
.”

“Is there a reason you don’t want to do your work?”

Ellie shrugged. “
Wonnernaus
.”

“‘
Wonnernaus’?
” Lydia cocked an eyebrow. Silence echoed in the room. She didn’t hear the sound of
one pencil writing on paper. Lydia cleared her throat. “Yes, it is my business. I’m
yer teacher.”

Ellie didn’t budge, and Lydia closed her eyes, praying for wisdom. After a minute
passed she came up with an idea.

Lydia rose and went to the supply cupboard. Inside there was a half-used bag of rice.
She guessed the other part of it had been used for a craft. Lydia tore off a large
piece of waxed paper and took the paper and the rice to the desks where Ellie and
Evelyn sat. With all eyes on her, she placed the paper on the floor and proceeded
to pour the rice onto it. Small gasps erupted around the room. It was only then that
Ellie lifted her head to see what her teacher was up to.

Lydia sat on the floor, and with her hands she spread the rice into an even layer
over the waxed paper. Satisfied with the result, she picked up the pencil and lifted
it toward Ellie.

“Girls, how would you like to write your sentences in the rice?”

Evelyn’s eyes widened and she jumped to her feet. “
Ja!
” But Ellie seemed unmoved.

Evelyn sat down with her pencil. A large smile filled her face as she wrote her name.

“Are you sure you don’t want to try, Ellie?” Lydia didn’t push. She didn’t scold.
She just waited.

After a moment Ellie shrugged, and Lydia handed her the pencil. With slow movements
Ellie rose from her desk and sat next to Evelyn. As if seeing their world was in order
again, the rest of the students went back to work.

Lydia rose and returned to her desk. She sat. Her hands trembled, and a sinking feeling
overcame her. What had she been thinking to want this job—to accept this job? The
future
of these children was in her hands. Their parents expected them to learn, not only
about school subjects, but about respect and working as part of a community.

She pulled out a pile of papers and shuffled through them, not knowing what she was
looking for. What if Ellie’s defiance continued? What if the boys started to act up
again? Suddenly the weight of responsibility seemed too much to bear.

“Class, get out your spelling sheets and look over your words. I’ll be testing you
in ten minutes.”

Julia Yoder raised her hand. “Miss Wyse, today is Thursday. We always do our spelling
tests on Friday.”

“Yes, Julia, I know, but…I’ve decided to change things today.” Her throat grew tight.
“Ten minutes should be enough time to review your words. You’ve had three days already
to practice them at home. Don’t you think that’s fair?”

“Yes, Miss Wyse.” Julia lowered her head. Her shoulders shook slightly.

Seeing the girl’s reaction made matters even worse.

“Who trusted me with this job?” Lydia mumbled to herself. She thought of her birth
mother, Grace. How had she done it? Had teaching school been different almost thirty
years ago? Lydia guessed not. Things didn’t change much in an Amish community. Grace
would have had the same struggles and problems. Had she turned to the community for
support? Had she turned to God for help?

Deep down Lydia knew becoming the teacher wasn’t just about the children, it was about
her. It was as if God tapped her on the shoulder, “See, you’re gonna need others—need
Me to pull this off.” Lydia thought back to the first few weeks of school. She’d poured
everything into teaching and had done a good job, but…

God’s Spirit spoke to her heart:
Don’t make this about them
versus you, Lydia. Remind them that you’re all in this—the walk of faith—together
.

As if a fog lifted, Lydia knew what to do. She moved to the chalkboard. “Actually,
class, Julia is right. We will do our spelling test tomorrow. Instead I want to talk
about challenges. My challenges as a teacher, and yours as a student. The year is
just getting started, and things won’t always be easy, but I want to talk about this
quote we have up here. Julia, can you read it?”

Dark-haired Julia sat straighter in her seat. “‘Friendship is a lamp which shines
most brightly when all else is dark.’”

“Very good.” Lydia smiled at her class. “I’m not sure if you know it, but when we
grow and interact with the world, we’ll find enemies as well as friends. Not always
those who want to hurt us physically, but those who consider our path foolish. Or
who think our God is not real.”

She looked around the room. Children’s eyes widened. “
Ja
, it’s true. That’s why it’s so important to know what we believe and to trust God.”
Lydia placed a hand over her heart.

Charlie Sommer’s hand shot into the air.

“Yes, Charlie.”

“Is it true that you used to live in the
Englisch
world?”

“
Ja
, I did.”

“My uncle says that you shouldn’t be teaching…because your mind is too full of knowledge
and prideful thoughts.” It was Andy Shelter who said those words, and they were like
a jab to Lydia’s heart. “But my mem told him that yer a great teacher, and she was
going to smack his head hoping he’d get some smarts,” Andy continued. Laughter spilled
from his lips.

“That’s a perfect example, Andy,” Lydia said, trying not to allow the words of that
boy’s uncle to bother her. “It would have meant a lot to me for your mem to tell me
I was a great teacher,
but her words mean even more because of the dark opinion told to her.” She looked
around. “Does that make sense, class?”

Students’ heads nodded, and even the youngest girls seemed to be paying attention.

Well done
. She felt—more than heard—the soft whisper to her soul.

“All right, class. Now everyone get out your papers with leaf photos. We’re going
to discuss the upcoming leaf collections.” All the children, even little Ellie, obeyed
without question, and there was a special sense of unity in the room that hadn’t been
there before. They’d walked through a struggle together and had come to the other
side.

Lydia smiled as she walked over to the leaf poster, hoping this day’s impromptu lesson
would be remembered long after these students learned to multiply and spell. She just
hoped that during the school days to come there would be more moments of light—and
that not too many dark days loomed ahead.