My Dearest Naomi (38 page)

I’m working the poor students half to death at school, trying to get done with the schedule. The fast ones are keeping up, but the slower ones are sweating. Somewhere I miscalculated the timing, and now I’m rushing to complete the books. Hopefully the students will survive.

My goal is to have little work planned for the last week so we can
practice the “last day of school” program. They don’t have “last day of school” festivities here as I’m used to, with games all day, but only the evening program, where the whole community is invited.

Did you used to hate vocabulary in school? I know I did, and there seems to be a large number of the students here who also do. Perhaps the disease is catching? But hooray! This week will be the last of that, with the final test next week.

I’m also trying to finish social studies this week. The first-grade reading class is almost completed. They are coming to the section of their books where all the fairy tales are. That gets them laughing and enjoying themselves. It doesn’t help anyone else though when they start cutting up and making faces at each other. And I mean right during schooltime while sitting at their desks.

Each day brings me closer to seeing you again. Let that day come quickly.

Stay sweet,

Eugene

April 12

What an evening! Betsy, Rosanna, both moms, your sisters, and I all piled into Gene’s van to shop for furniture. Your mom had seen some advertised in the local paper. At the first place they had a table with four chairs, all in good condition. The table has a Formica top that looks like real, light-colored wood. The chairs are overstuffed and dark brown. They are made with soft vinyl and rollers, and they swivel. I am very pleased with them. The cost was only $100 for the whole lot, so I made the purchase. I hope you like them. I really hate to make household purchases without you here. We can store these in Mom and Dad’s basement until we need them. Yippee. Won’t that be wonderful?

The next place had a bedroom suite, which I wasn’t interested in but your mom was. Plus, I have no place to store the set even if I had liked it. They wanted $150 for the bed, dresser, and chest of drawers. I don’t think anyone really liked the color, but your mom said at this price she can’t be choosy. She offered the man $125 and he accepted. When she pulled out her checkbook, he waved his hand and said, “No checks, please.” So that cut the deal off at the roots.

On the way home we stopped at the Dairy Queen for dipped cones. Your sister Mary didn’t get one because she’s trying your diet. We had all started eating ours, and Gene was driving when I handed him the box with the last two cones in it. He started battling with the box, trying to get his cone out. Your mom said he’d better be careful. “You worry too much,” Gene replied. About that time one of the cones went splat on the floor, and your mom let out a screech: “There it goes!” We all roared. Gene wasn’t so sure of himself when he tried to take the second one out.

We butchered a cow yesterday with just the immediate family helping. Well, Ada did come up a little in the evening. We were all exhausted by the time the work was done. I drank two big cups of coffee to keep going and was suddenly buzzing with energy around ten o’clock. Why it waited so long to kick in, I have no idea. Anyway, our freezer is now full of hamburger, and Mom and I will be canning all day tomorrow. I think Ada might come over to help for a few hours, but she has her own family to take care of.

By the way, Mom told me, “If you’re twenty now, you have to act it.” Yuck. That’s no fun.

I love you,

Naomi

April 13

If this weather keeps up, I declare I’ll be floating home in a boat.

School continues wrapping up. I have finished checking the students’ social studies workbooks tonight, so that’s done. I think I’m almost as thrilled as the students are. There are still tests for next week, but nothing serious is on the horizon.

Tomorrow is the achievement tests for the lower graders, which I hope goes well. I told the students yesterday that if they wanted to get sick, tomorrow would be the day, not Thursday. Sharon and Laverne weren’t here today, so perhaps they took my advice.

I drew up the pictures for the arithmetic treasure hunt. The prizes had been purchased some time back, and hopefully they aren’t stale. A large bag of candy for the first-place winner, Dawn, and smaller sweets for the second- and third-place winners. For someone who doesn’t eat sugar, I should have purchased healthier foods, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t be appreciated. And I don’t want to leave too many bad memories behind.

Your belated Saturday letter arrived today, having been passed somewhere in-between here and there by your Monday letter. At least they didn’t come on the same day. Soon we will have a more reliable form of communication.

You don’t have to worry about Janie affecting my views of marriage. I am quite safe from her diatribes. And if I weren’t, your charms would surely wear me down. It’s wonderful to be loved by you.

I want our love to continue that way and to grow if possible. Isn’t that what love is supposed to do?

Take care of yourself,

Eugene

April 15

My, I am being treated like a king. Three letters have arrived right in a row!

So you are buying furniture. Wow, you are serious about getting married. It still seems a dream to me, one that could slip away into the clouds on the horizon. It would have been fun being there for the purchase. Still, I have no doubt you made a good choice. I will love the chairs.

It seems as if the last few weeks of school are the best days. Everyone, including the teacher, seems more lighthearted, more prone to breaking into a smile, as if the burden of the year is almost over with. I guess it is! There are only two more weeks to go. We are almost there.

Tonight all the school board members and I are gathering to check the achievement tests. Hopefully everyone did well. It would be embarrassing if a bunch of the students failed.

Tomorrow will find me, bright and early, on the way to Chicago with Richard. I wish the date would have come sooner because now all the happy stuff is crammed into the last few weeks. We also have plans to see the
Passion Play
while in Chicago. I will write you all about the trip when I get back.

Love you,

Eugene

April 16

I woke up to a gorgeous day, and I hope your day is also beautiful as you take off for the day trip into Chicago. It would have been wonderful to be with you.

Mom and I went to a patio sale yesterday. Not that I was really looking for anything, but Mom wanted dishes for herself. She found some, and I wandered off to this cute little card place that carried wedding invitations. Of course, I had to look things over. They had about ten books filled with different invitations a person could order. I saw the exact ones several of the wedding couples in our community have used, so this is where they must be coming from. I will wait to order though. There is still plenty of time, and you will soon be home to help me decide.

Being a teacher sure sounds interesting and hectic sometimes. I can understand how it might wear you out mentally.

Well, I now have ninety-five letters and sixteen cards from you. All of which I treasure very much.

I’m sitting here thinking how wonderful you are and wondering how to put it into words. I can hardly believe our separation will soon be over. I want dark thoughts of our parting to be washed away by thoughts of a glorious spring, followed by years spent together after we’re married.

Has the doctor told you for sure you have to stay off of sugar forever or is that your own idea?

Did you know our school picnic is also on the thirtieth? Perhaps you can make it. How I do look forward to seeing you again.

I love you,

Naomi

April 17

Here I am again on a Sunday afternoon. The Chicago trip went great. I saw so many things, I can’t even begin to list them all. The enclosed postcard shows a picture of the Museum of Science and Industry building, which contained everything imaginable. A whole room was used to show how computers are made and how they work. There was a mini farm, which contained nothing new for me. There was a “whispering gallery,” where you could go all the way across the room and hear another person whispering from far away. That was pretty neat. This must be done by bouncing the sound waves across the room.

They had mirrors set up that showed a picture of yourself standing there, and then in the next mirror, and then in the next…until you couldn’t see yourself anymore way off in the distance.

There was a coal mine we could have toured, but the line was too long so we didn’t wait.

They showed a short film of people doing live acts in a circus from years ago in a room with a mini setup of the show.

One of the last things we saw were life-sized models of babies developing—about thirty of them spanning the entire time of the pregnancy. Richard thought this had to do with the Pro-life Movement, although he couldn’t find any signs saying so.

There was a planetarium where we walked out onto a platform. It was as if we were in a spaceship and able to view the stars around us. It gave me shivers of delight. It was as if I were in the very middle of the heavens with great splashes of stars all around me.

We also watched a film on a large sky dome. It was quite something. The seats lean back, and things rush toward the viewer from all sides as if they were alive. I think I jumped more than once, especially when a train came rushing out of a tunnel and roared over my head.

Richard wanted to take tours of the taller buildings, but we ran out of time. You would have enjoyed the trip, and perhaps someday we can see it all—just the two of us. Wouldn’t that be great?

The new moon is hanging in the night sky, and it brings back memories of you and me and our times together.

Brandon called me Dad in school today by mistake. He laughed heartily afterward and said, “Excuse me.” I thought it was funny too. I liked the sound of it though.

Our quartet isn’t going anywhere—as I expected. We sang one song in public, “There’s a Golden Tomorrow.” Thankfully nobody passed out.

The ideas for the “last day of school” program are coming together well. I plan to have all the upper graders write compositions on assigned topics. I’ll ask Lonnie and Luella to read them in front of the crowd. That ought to be fun. The children are in an uproar, knowing their work will be read in front of everyone. I thought this would push them to greater heights of writing.

We will sing three songs, listen to tongue-twisters read by the students, and then there are awards and diplomas to pass out. I’m aiming for a light and informal atmosphere in contrast to the Christmas program.

For a little extra touch, I’m making up a “Certificate of Award” for Lonnie and Luella, which will be presented in recognition of their good care of the teacher. I’ll have all the school board members sign it. I’ll sign it too. I hope to keep it a surprise, but you never know with Luella.

We’re getting the studies out of the way, one by one. Today was seventh- and eighth-grade English. Soon it will be over for the year. What a school year it has been. Probably one of the best years of my life so far, not withstanding all the pain from the loneliness. How is it that joy and sorrow walk so closely together?

We were done with supper tonight when the deacon and his wife drove in the lane. They were downstairs talking with Lonnie and Luella about something for a long time. At least I don’t have to worry about it being about me.

The last two days have been splendid weather-wise, with blue skies and gentle winds from the south. I think spring has come to aid my journey home. In order to celebrate the weather, I gave the children an extra free period after the last recess today. I stood inside, watching them running around and playing softball. They have become dear to me, creeping into my heart when I wasn’t looking. I wonder what the years ahead hold for them and for me.

A lot of the children are working ahead in their books, putting on one last, grand push. I’m afraid they will get done and then sit around bored to death. Well, they have been warned.

Soon I will be home and driving you home from the hymn singings. I wonder if my horse can still run in the night, but I suppose my brothers haven’t left her idly wandering the hayfield. She’s too good a horse for that.

And you are much too good a girl for me.

With much love,

Eugene

April 18

Good morning. I’m still half asleep since we didn’t get home till late from the singing, and then we sat up talking.

The sad news around here right now is that James Yoder has officially left the church. Someone saw him in town the other day with his beard shaved, his hair combed to the side, and wearing a dark-blue suit. Word has it he’s determined to buy a van, but everything seems to go against him. He has his driver’s license now and can drive other people’s cars.