My Dearest Naomi (26 page)

I washed the frying pan to remove the evidence, but I couldn’t do anything about the small kettle that shows no signs of poached eggs. So I placed the kettle close to the sink, figuring Luella would think I had cleaned it, but it didn’t work out that way. When I arrived home from school, one of the first things out of her mouth was, “Eugene, did you fry your eggs?”

Now she’s going to fry my eggs every morning, end of discussion, and no amount of argument would persuade her otherwise.

At the supper table, Lonnie joined in the discussion of poached versus fried eggs. Fried eggs are very unhealthy, he said. I countered with one of my dad’s arguments, which isn’t much of any argument, it’s more of a joke. Dad always said that poached eggs take forty years to digest. Lonnie laughed himself silly over that, and we left the discussion on friendly terms.

I arrived home from school and still no letter. Monday was the last time I received a letter, so I hope nothing is wrong. Sorry for my worries, and I hope I don’t pressure you to write all the time. It’s just that your letters are such a joy and pleasure.

There is an ice skating planned tonight for the youth, and I’m going, of course. It’s been almost a year since I’ve been on skates. Hopefully, I still
know how and won’t go sliding around on my knees or bottom. I do so wish you and your cheerful smile could be here.

The Bible study last night was on the fifteenth chapter of John, the first eight verses. The main point Stan made was that Christ is the one true vine, but there are many other vines one can be attached to.

Someone asked the question concerning verse 2: “Can a branch that is broken off be grafted back in?” Stan thought that it could.

Someone else asked what the purging was in the last part of verse 2. Stan said that the way he defines purging is trouble that God sends into our lives to purify us. He feels that if trouble comes from our own mistakes there isn’t much purifying value in it, but if trouble comes from doing good, this has value with God. The way to tell the difference, he said, is the issue of control. If we can stop our troubles by changing our ways, then we are producing the troubles ourselves. Otherwise, it’s from God and we need to submit.

Stan commented on verse 7, that instead of being so concerned with asking things of God, we should be sure we meet the two stated conditions. First—“if we abide in Jesus,” and second—“if Jesus’ words abide in us.” After that we can ask what we will and trust that God will answer our prayers according to what is best for us. All this seems more interesting in a group discussion, but I wanted to share it with you.

Luella visited school today for the first time. She was there from the time we started until noon. I’m sure there were plenty of faults to see if she compared me to their other teachers, but she didn’t say anything negative. Maybe she was just being nice.

I love you,

Eugene

January 20

I’m wondering if you’ve received my letter yet since your last letter sounded so cheerful. The tension in my chest is something awful. I wish I hadn’t written the letter, but I did. So I guess I’ll look on the bright side of things and hope I brought something up that needed to be dealt with.

Last night the young folks had a skating party at Benny Miller’s pond. I went to break myself out of my blues. Don was busy at home and couldn’t make the drive. I was reminded at the gathering of how much I love our young people. They had lanterns set all around the pond and most of the ice shoveled off. We played prisoner’s base for a while and then just skated for the fun of it.

You seem so far away, as if I haven’t seen you in years, and yet Christmas hasn’t been that long ago.

Today I didn’t have to work, so I caught up on the ironing and mending. There’s not much to do on the farm in the winter other than chores. Dad keeps cutting back on the milk cows when one goes dry. I’m not sure what his plans are. Everything feels all mixed up right now.

I filled the bird feeders and watched the birds for a while until I got too cold standing outside. They are lovely creatures to watch, their perky little jumps and their feathers all fluffed in the cold. It brought tears to my eyes, but I was really crying for other reasons. The birds normally cheer me up.

Mom wants to make coffee ice cream tonight as a treat for Dad. It’s his birthday tomorrow, and she wants to catch him by surprise. I don’t think it will work. I saw him looking in the cupboards this morning after Mom had left the kitchen. I think he knows she’s making something for him. Ice cream can’t be far from his suspicions.

I have to babysit tomorrow, likely till midnight, which I’m glad for. It gives me something to do.

I don’t know what to write tonight. It’s after midnight already, and I feel very awful for writing that letter. Another of your letters arrived today, but I don’t think you’ve received the nasty one yet. What you say softens my heart, but what’s done is done. I just hope I don’t hurt you too much.

I should never have let my mind blow things so out of proportion.
And I thank you in advance for being understanding. I can already tell you are going to be. Let me assure you that after I wrote the letter I felt so bad I was physically ill.

I was afraid you’d respond in a letter and say that we should break our relationship, and that you wouldn’t ever write or speak to me again. And I wouldn’t have blamed you in the least.

I realize that I was withdrawing from your family, especially on Sundays when I would see your mom. How warped my mind must be.

Last night at the supper table Dad didn’t agree with me at all when I shared what I had written. By the way, he claimed to be totally surprised by the coffee ice cream. We made the ice cream in the basement while he was doing the chores. We cleaned everything before he got back inside.

Anyway, he feels that you have no ulterior motives of any sort, and that your parents are just having the normal worries that all parents do. So I feel much better about all of this. Hopefully I have done no lasting damage.

It’s so good to think again that our love has value for its own sake. I get messed up when things move beyond that. Please forgive me? And thanks ahead of time for the patience that I know you will have.

I really want to tell you what a wonderful person I think you are. I could never find a more special man to marry than you.

I love you,

Naomi

January 23

This finds me home from church and wondering very much how things are going around your place. It would be so wonderful to spend Sunday afternoon with you.

Stan preached his first sermon today, and I saw a couple people there who normally don’t show up, so perhaps he was the attraction. He does preach differently from the other ministers—more personal and engaging.

I asked Lonnie and Luella afterward what they thought. They said they hope things start going better in church now that a new preacher has been ordained, and that they approved of the sermon.

This Mennonite church has a balcony and I sat up there today so I could see how the people reacted to Stan’s sermon, but also because I get bored, and this was something different.

Yesterday I made a batch of cookies for the same bored reasons. It’s a low state of affairs when a man spends his Saturday morning inside the house and in the kitchen. Just kidding…but they tasted good. Lonnie agreed, so there. Luella fussed a little about it. These cookies weren’t on my diet, so I had to promise her I’d only eat a couple and that they were for Lonnie.

Luella pulled the last joke on me though. After Lonnie had eaten his cookies, he left for the other farm down the road to do the chores. After a while Luella called him on the Freedom telephone he always carries with him, and when he answered she told him she wanted to make sure he was still alive.

Ha…ha…They thought that was really funny. And so it goes around here.

I’m so glad I didn’t mail the Sunday letter this morning. At least I can include another one with it. I cannot begin to express my sorrow over your last letter. For some reason I felt as if I had spoken things I shouldn’t have, but the shock of your letter was still hard to take.

Is there nothing I can do to persuade you? I’m so sorry for how my parents feel, and that I even told you. Where do all these suspicions come from anyway? Please reconsider. At least wait until I get back, and we can talk about this properly.

Now I’m kind of at a loss. What does one do? Surely you don’t want me to discontinue writing my letters. Your letter didn’t sound like that, so I’ll take a chance and hope this can be worked out.

My heart hurts all over, but I comfort myself that you do love me and that love can win out in the end, even when the circumstances are difficult and the road hard. But if I had known it would be this hard, I don’t know if I ever would have come out here to teach. May God forgive me if something happens to separate us. That would be too much to bear.

Well, I will cry my agony alone tonight and keep hope alive in my heart because you haven’t cut things off completely. Hopefully your next letter will bear better news.

As always, I do love you.

Eugene

January 24

I wonder what your first lessons are this morning at school…and whether you received the nasty letter yet. I can’t say how sorry I am, and I’m now afflicted with great waves of fear. What if you aren’t understanding and sink into a depression over this? I have chills running up and down my back at the very thought. But I must not let my mind blow things up. You are an understanding man, you really are.

Hopefully, all your Florida students are back in class by now. The people from Iowa must like the sunshine down south. I’m still enjoying the snow, thank you very much. The birds are especially cute this morning, and I think they are very thankful for my kind attention.

There was bad news at church yesterday. James Yoder has somehow convinced Millie and the children to join him at that
Englisha
church he’s been going to. Dad said he thinks excommunication talks are already under way. Bishop Enos looked very troubled yesterday, sitting there on the front benches with the other ministers. I can only say that I’m glad I’m not in the ministers’ shoes.

My wrist is still hurting from a fall I took at the skating get-together. I think it will be okay. It wasn’t that serious. That’s why I didn’t mention anything in the last letter, so don’t worry about this, please.

Your mom spoke with me after church on Sunday, and I know my neck was turning all kinds of colors. I sure hope you didn’t write her about my letter. It’s bad enough just knowing I wrote it. If she finds out, I’ll never be able to talk to her again from sheer embarrassment.

Your mom said she thinks you are doing much better, now that the diet has had time to take effect. I agree with her. Your letters are so cheerful and much brighter than they were before Christmas. You might say it’s just my imagination, but I don’t think so.

Then she gave me a funny get well card from your sisters. They knew about the wrist sprain. There were three pieces of candy taped inside, along with the words “Hope you get better soon” and “These candy pills will help speed you on your way.” Signed, “The Mast skunks.”

That made me laugh, and I feel even more embarrassed for my wild imaginations.

And you aren’t the only one getting mad at the mail service. I won’t get
a letter for a couple of days, and then
kerbang!
there are two. I enjoy them anyway, so don’t stop writing.

Also, what is so nice about Miller? There is nothing wrong with Mast at all. I’d change my whole name for you.

You will think this is very dumb, but here it goes. Do you think it would be okay if I called you Sweetheart sometimes? Somehow I got the notion it might not be proper to call a man that. I like it very much when you call me Sweetheart, or any other endearment for that matter. Anyway, I’ve often called you that to myself.

I love you,

Naomi

January 25

I’m home from school and trying to keep breathing, hoping for good news in the mail. I still can’t believe how stupid I was, and I don’t blame you one bit for thinking and saying what you did.

As for school, Norman and Dakota are still behind with their schoolwork from being gone so long. I was checking their papers late tonight and, hopefully, by tomorrow things will be back to normal for those two.

Anthony wasn’t in school again today, and his brother Larry said that he doesn’t think he’s really sick, but that he wanted to stay to watch his dad unload corn. I can well believe it by the way Larry was grinning. I figured he was talking from experience and was enjoying his brother’s day off in his thoughts. He was receiving way too much pleasure out of the absence for my comfort level.

There’s definitely a flu bug going around, and I know from personal experience. Dawn threw up all over her desk today. The girl was still purple in the face when I looked up, so I raced over with the wastebasket in the vain hope the next discharge could be caught before it hit the floor. Nope, it didn’t work, and I got the job of cleaning it all up. I almost used the wastebasket for reasons other than what wastebaskets are intended for. Yuck…yuck…and double yuck!