My Dearest Naomi (12 page)

I don’t know what more to write except to remind you that I love you very, very much.

How I miss you, 

Naomi

October 16

“We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed” (2 Corinthians 4:8-9).

It’s around noon. I have been at the schoolhouse the whole forenoon working on report cards. Last Saturday Lonnie had me painting the barn buildings, but today he had fieldwork to do. Partly because of that and partly because of report card week, I’m here at work on a Saturday.

School has been in session for six weeks now, which means it’s seven weeks since I left Indiana. That seems like ages, dear, and if God hadn’t given me the strength to bear it, I know it would have been even harder.

I counted the other day, and there are ten more weeks until Christmas and seventeen weeks of school after that. But who wants to think of that mountain still to climb?

Most of the pupils are getting good grades, but I don’t think it’s because of me. They are smart pupils. Lydia has really improved in vocabulary for the last two grades sessions. I continue to keep a close eye on her and help where I can. It seems she may be catching on. I sure hope so. Her average in vocabulary for the six weeks came out to sixty-six. Seventy is the dividing line. I sometimes make them redo something that goes below that, but for vocabulary I never have. Mostly because it’s in workbook form, and they can use dictionaries so there’s no need for second chances.

Yesterday I had a little episode with one of the first graders. Brandon and Mark are always laughing with each other and carrying on while they’re supposed to be working. This time they were showing each other their work and having a great laugh over it. I told Mark to quiet down, but I had no sooner turned around then he was going into high gear again. I thought of telling him if he didn’t quit I would do something—I wasn’t sure what. But a teacher shouldn’t threaten, I figured. I didn’t say anything, allowing them to carry on while I tried to think what I could do.

I had a spelling class in session, so it wasn’t the best time to deal with anything else. When that class was over, I settled on a solution. The children have seats that can be moved around, and Mark sits in the front row. So I walked up behind him while he was carrying on. He didn’t see me coming. I took the back of his chair in my hands and turned him around so he faced backward. I whispered in his ear that this was his punishment
for not being quiet. Also, I said this way he didn’t have to turn around to talk with his friends.

He put his head down on his desk, burying his face in his arms. I left him there for five minutes or so before turning him back around. It worked quite dandily, if I must say so myself. He was quiet for the rest of the day and hasn’t had discussions with his classmates during schooltime since.

It’s 4:00, and we had visitors for dinner. They are still downstairs talking with Lonnie and Luella. Tonight some of the young people are attending the singing at the church we went to last month. I’m really looking forward to going again. I think it’s the same deal as last time. Some of the young folks aren’t going because they want to stay and play volleyball. I want to hear the singing.

One of the visitors today for dinner was a girl who attends Goshen College. She spent some time in Central America working in the missions communities. She could talk some Spanish, she said.

The younger couple had a little girl along, about three years old or so. All during dinner the man made the biggest fuss over her, cooing and giving her attention. She was kind of cute, so I could understand why.

They had communion at church today. They do everything the same as we do except it’s in a much shorter time span. Church started at 9:30, which is thirty minutes earlier than usual, with a short devotional following. The bishop got up next, starting right in on the main sermon. He doesn’t give the sermon from memory. He read from the twenty-sixth chapter of Matthew, straight through the crucifixion story, doing very little expounding.

When they pass the bread around, two ministers walk through the congregation with plates, breaking off pieces from the loaf and handing the bread to people in their seats. For the wine they did the same thing, two ministers passing the cup, one for the men’s side, and one for the women’s side.

The foot washing was done in about the same time frame. Everything was over by 12:10, which is much sooner than the usual 4:00 in the afternoon for an Amish communion service.

I don’t think I told you that we went for a walk on Thursday with
the schoolchildren. It was my attempt at breaking their boredom. That would be
theirs,
not mine. They don’t have nearly as much work as I do. On the way, we picked up small things for the nature table—fall leaves, oak branches, and berry twigs.

By the way, I did get more sparrows in again. One of the schoolchildren brought one in yesterday and two today. I should have stood my ground because one died already, the poor thing, but the other two seem to be eating well, so maybe they will survive.

I miss you, dear.

Eugene

October 17

Greetings in our dear Savior’s name.

This finds me up in my room writing away. I walked home this afternoon from church soon after the second batch of people were at the tables because I made it in on the first round. You never know how things will go. There have been times when I haven’t gotten on until the third table, especially if the house is a little small, and they can’t set up a lot of tables.

By the way, your sister Heidi said all the females at their house have been on diets all week, which depressed me. I guess I should go on one, but who likes diets? I’ll just try to watch my eating closer. That will do it, hopefully.

I spent some time outside this afternoon leading Laddie around. I can tell from the look in Dad’s eyes he’s seeing dollar signs from the coming sale of the colt, which has to happen, I know. I’ve gotten really attached to him, that’s all.

There was an
Englisha
boy at church today. One of the girls said his name is Darrell Hooley, and that he’s staying at Harvey’s place. He wants to join a community and is checking out the possibilities.

Daniel and Lydia are really going on with their courtship. At least according to what the others say. It’s said that they’re acting like they’re already going steady, and I suppose they will be pretty soon. Don said Friday night that he saw them together as much as the other steadies, if not more. I say good for them, as it suits me just fine. I think they make a good pair, and you never had any business dating Lydia in the first place, whatever your excuse was. There, that is said.

Some news events this Sunday were as follows. Sharon, Martha, and Ruth all had cape and apron suits on for the first time. On the singing front, someone must have decided it was time because David Miller sang the praise song for the first time. John Yoder had to start the first line for him, though. David didn’t do too badly from then on, but his voice was rather weak. I suppose I’d be a bit weak too if I had to do the song. I miss the power and beauty of your voice when you led the praise song. I cried a little in the middle of the song thinking about it, but then I stopped when I became afraid someone would notice.

Melvin and Johnny were here today as visiting ministers from the other district. Johnny had the first part and Melvin the second. I appreciate the
way Johnny preaches. He is meek and includes himself in what he says. He often stresses the point that we are not to be too hard on other people but to look at ourselves first. I often wish I could be more like that. His daughter Barbara is such a good example. You hardly ever hear her talking about or putting other people down to the last notch.

Stan Yoder’s family and the Richards are leaving for a sudden Montana trip on Tuesday. It’s for a visit to relatives, though I don’t know how long they will stay.

Today we had a really beautiful day, with the first frost on the ground this morning. I miss you awfully, especially after the praise song episode. I didn’t feel like I could smile all day, and when I did, the attempt felt plastic. We girls sat behind the men, and I watched the young wives as they brought their children to their husbands. I thought how great they had it that they can be together practically all the time. I also thought about what our children would look like, perhaps a little like you or a little like both of us? Would he be calm or active?

I hope it won’t be too many weeks until I can see you. What a joy that will be, even though the pain of parting will be hard again.

I love you dearly, 

Naomi

October 18

“A bruised reed shall he not break, and the smoking flax shall he not quench” (Isaiah 42:3). I have been repeating this verse a couple of times a day. It’s a great comfort to me, showing us how God deals with those He loves.

I received your letter today, the one you wrote on Friday evening. You say so many nice things, all of which warm my heart.

There was a letter from my mom today. I guess she wants to keep checking up on me. But I suppose that’s what moms are all about.

I have some questions for you to answer sometime…whenever you get to it.

No. 1: What do you see as the most important thing that you want out of marriage?

No. 2: What do you mean when you say “I love you”?

I’m kind of blue right now, but I hold you very close to my heart. Take care, and I will write more some other day.

And I love you,

Eugene

October 18

Oh, what a day! I feel like I’ve been run through the mill. We had hay this evening—two loads of it. Dad drove the baler, dropping the hay on the ground. Betsy drove the team, while Don stacked the wagon. Rosanna and I pitched the bales up. There was so much trouble with the baler that we didn’t get the whole field done. Now our elevator isn’t working, so Don drove right into the barn, throwing the bales up to us in the mow by hand. Talk about work…dragging those bales around. Ugh!

Mom and Betsy helped in the haymow for a while, but Mom is older and Betsy is a young girl, so Don and I ended up doing the second load by ourselves. I guess I shouldn’t complain because the bales were lighter than they are sometimes.

Betsy and Larry received their report cards today. Betsy did really well, all A’s except for one B. Larry did exactly the opposite: Two D’s, and one F, the rest C’s. We were all very disappointed, the poor guy. He’s different from the rest of us, but I say that even if he isn’t so good at school, that doesn’t mean he won’t be a success in life. He takes a great interest in growing things, and I think he definitely will make a good farmer.

The preachers are having problems with James Yoder again, and this after everyone thought the problem with his Calvinist beliefs had been resolved. I could see when the ministers came downstairs last Sunday morning that something was bothering them. Bishop Enos called a members’ meeting after church. He said they hope to settle some of these points satisfactorily with James in the next two weeks.

Melvin’s wife told Mom that she has never pitied the ministers more. This seems to be a very hard case for everyone to handle. There are whispers going around that maybe the ministers aren’t handling things correctly, but I’ve decided for myself that I will definitely stand by the ministers. Also, I’ll try not to be hard on James or his family, and fast and pray for both.

Earlier in the afternoon, Mom and I drove up to visit Della at the hospital. She seems to be getting along fairly well. She had some sort of opening made in her stomach, like her brother Floyd did the other year, but at least she doesn’t have cancer. The problem was a blockage caused by an ulcer, whatever that is.

The mail service is a little twisted, I think. Today I received your card
and also a letter. But nevertheless I was glad for both. I just reread them. Thanks so much for the card.

I placed a letter in the mail today and would like to put this one out tomorrow, but I’ll wait till Wednesday, I think. That way you’ll get a longer letter.

Here I am again. I want to hurry and finish this letter before the mailman goes. This is a very windy, cloudy, rainy, dreary morning, so maybe it’ll hurry up and get cold enough to snow.

Dad, Don, and Larry went to the Worthington livestock auction last night, taking two of our cows along. Neither was worth much. Now we are down to milking eight, but still have two heifers who should deliver their calves soon.

My mom picked up your mom yesterday morning. They went to Leann’s place for a coffee break, they said. The real reason was Mom wanted to pick up a quilt. I don’t know what your mom’s reasons for going were. Maybe she just wanted to visit.

Tonight the young folks have a gathering at Monroe’s to clean up, since he and his wife have purchased a new place.

We finally got the last load of hay in yesterday evening. Afterward, Rosanna, Betsy, Mom, and I were sitting in the living room resting, discussing, of all things, what names I want to give my children. Rosanna and Betsy were offering all kinds of suggestions. Suddenly Betsy said, “Wouldn’t Eugene laugh if he could hear us?”