by Amy Clipston
She’d be a better teacher.
“Miss Wendy?”
Realizing she’d been lost in her thoughts while Becca read next to her, Wendy blinked. “I’m sorry, Becca. Yes?”
The girl pointed out the window. “Have you seen all the snow?”
It had been lightly snowing outside when the children arrived, but since then she hadn’t paid more than scant attention to it. “It is a snowy day, isn’t it?”
Looking concerned, little Becca nodded. “Paul said the wind picked up too.”
“Don’t worry, dear. We’re snug in here.” By now, she’d learned how to work the kerosene heater and had made the schoolhouse pleasant. So pleasant she’d almost forgotten that it had been snowing at all.
When Becca’s worry didn’t seem to ease, Wendy smiled more brightly. “Just think of all the snow angels our class will be able to make at recess. That will be a sight to see, ain’t so?”
“Jah, Miss Schwartz.”
After she sent Becca back to her seat, Wendy opened the front door and peeked outside. To her shock, the wind was howling, the snow was practically falling in sheets, and the sky had darkened. It was only eleven o’clock too.
Realizing that several of the kinner had gotten to their feet and were staring with wide-eyed wonder at the blizzard, she closed the door securely. “Scholars, I think we’ll eat our lunches inside today.”
A couple of the children giggled and returned to their desks.
But Paul was still standing next to her. “It’s gotten a lot worse, Miss Schwartz.”
“It does seem like it, Paul,” she murmured.
“I don’t know how everyone is going to get home.”
She’d thought about that as well. “We’ll have to tackle that problem at three o’clock, Paul. The good news is that we’re all safe inside, and the heater is working.”
Though he looked skeptical, Paul nodded before going back to sit next to Marti. Wendy noticed that Marti looked worried too. As difficult as the past week had been, both Paul and Marti had been a source of surprise. Their attitudes had greatly improved. They acted more respectful, and they even seemed to like her now. Wendy wasn’t sure if their change in demeanor was because they knew she was leaving or because they’d at last decided to stop fighting her so much. Whatever the reason, she was glad of the change.
Feeling the tension in the air, Wendy clapped to get everyone’s attention. “Scholars, I know the storm is worrying some of you, but there’s nothing we can do about it at the moment. However, I thought I’d read aloud from our book for a little longer than usual today. Each of you may sit quietly and listen or draw at your seats. After that, we’ll eat lunch.”
Looking pleased about the change in routine, some of the kinner pulled out carpet squares and sat near her chair. Others stayed at their seats but pulled out crayons and paper.
When Wendy was satisfied everyone was settled, she opened the library book she’d checked out from the bookmobile: Dangers in Rocky Hill.
“Now, where were we?”
“Emmitt had just gotten lost, and the bad guys were nearby!” Jonas said.
“Ah, yes. I’ve been worrying about them all morning,” Wendy exclaimed.
Several of the younger kinner giggled while the older students exchanged amused glances. But overriding the laughter and amusement lay a new sense of community. Wendy had been told about that from older, more experienced teachers. There was a moment in every school year that the classroom became like a family. A noisy, sometimes discordant family, to be sure, but a family all the same.
Sitting in front of the students, holding the library book in her hands, Wendy realized that was what had happened for all of them. For better or worse, they’d at last bonded. She knew she needed to thank the Lord for that gift. He’d given her many trials, but He had also given her this success too. No matter what happened in the future, she would always be able to treasure the memory and savor it.
Returning to the moment, she cleared her throat. “Chapter twelve.”
As she read the first page—which really was rather exciting—Wendy became lost in the story. Soon, most of the students had stopped drawing. All of them were on the run with the ten-year-old hero of the book.
Then, just as she flipped the page and Emmitt seemed seconds from falling off the edge of a dangerous cliff, the school door opened.
Well, rather, it flew open with a bang.
Wendy felt like she jumped a good foot in the air. A few of the children gasped.
“Sorry if I scared ya,” Lewis said as he strode in along with a burst of snow.
Wendy rushed over to him as he slammed the door. “Lewis, what are you doing here? Is everything all right?”
“Hold on, Wendy. Let me thaw out for a minute.” Standing next to the heater, he pulled off his gloves and unbuttoned his coat, which she now noticed was covered in snow.
“Miss Wendy?” Becca looked up at her with big eyes. “I’m scared.”
She wrapped her arms around the little girl and gave her a hug. “I know, but as I said before, we’re snug inside here, and that’s what counts.”
By the time Becca went to sit by the others, most of the children were either sitting at their desks or standing quietly while Lewis thawed out.
When he turned around to face them all at last, his expression was grave. “Everyone, I spoke with the bishop and stopped by several of your parents’ homes. Because the roads are already bad and the storm is supposed to get even worse, it’s been decided that everyone should stay put and not go out in this storm.”
“But how are we going to get home?” Becca asked.
“No one is going anywhere today or tonight,” Lewis said in a firm tone. “All of you are going to have to stay here.”
Noticing Becca’s bottom lip tremble, Wendy stepped closer to him and lowered her voice. “Lewis, are you sure about this?”
“I’m sorry, but I’m positive. It’s as bad a storm as I’ve ever seen. Everyone has agreed that it’s not safe to have anyone out in it. We even discussed the possibility of hiring a driver to come and deliver the children to their homes. But even if we could find someone to do that, it’s simply far too dangerous.”
“What about you? How will you get home?”
His voice softened. “Oh, Win. I’d never leave you alone. I volunteered to come here to tell you the news and to help.” While she digested that information—and the fact that he’d just called her by her nickname—he grinned at the class. “Scholars, it looks like it’s back to school for me. I’ll be staying with all of ya until morning.”
The room erupted into chaos. Children started calling out questions, at least four of them were tugging on her arm for attention, and several began to cry.
Realizing that all of their responses were very normal, Wendy let the chaos reign for five minutes before getting down to business.
“Scholars, I want to talk to all of you. It is time for you to sit down.” While they were getting back to their seats, she said a quick, hasty prayer. She also forced herself to relax and to think clearly.
Both the prayer and the mental pep talk helped. She realized all that really mattered was the welfare of the children. She no longer cared about doing the “right” thing in order to gain the board’s approval. She’d already lost that battle. Ironically, that knowledge actually made the situation easier to handle. She was going to concentrate on making her students feel cared for and healthy and secure.
When the class quieted, she took a deep breath and began. “Everyone, I know you are worried and that this is most unusual. However, I agree this decision is for the best. I would be so upset if something happened to one of you—or if one of your parents got sick or hurt trying to come get you.
“The fact of the matter is that you are all wonderful-gut students, and smart too. We are also a family of sorts. Together, we’ll show everyone in the community that we can handle a little thing like a snowstorm just fine.” Looking into each of the
twenty shining faces before her, she said, “It is now lunchtime. We’re going to have a picnic in the room! Everyone go get your lunch boxes and pails and find a place to sit and enjoy your meal. While you do that, I’ll speak with Mr. Lewis and make plans for the rest of our day.”
Amazingly, everyone followed her directions without any fuss at all. She noticed some of the older students helping the younger ones, just as they likely did in their homes.
When she was satisfied that she wasn’t needed, she walked to Lewis’s side. “I’m not sure what will happen next, but I think we’ll just take things a minute at a time.”
Lewis reached for her hands and squeezed before releasing them again. “Wendy, you are incredible. I’m so glad I’m getting the chance to see you in action.”
“Well, I’m mighty grateful that you were the one to come with the news and that you’re going to stay with us until the morning.”
“I volunteered. I didn’t want to be anywhere else but by your side.” Suddenly brightening, he said, “I almost forgot—I left a large duffel bag outside on the porch. It’s filled with blankets and some hastily packed snacks and sandwiches.”
She beamed at him. They had blankets, food, heat, and each other. The next twenty-four hours might not be easy, but they had everything they needed. The Lord really did provide.
Chapter 12
It was six in the morning when Lewis realized he and Wendy were the only two people awake in the entire schoolhouse. It had finally stopped snowing about three hours before. Praise God, the wind had died down soon after.
Now, as the first rays of sunlight appeared on the horizon, the weather remained peaceful and still . . . much like the atmosphere in the room where they were all gathered. Wendy sat next to him, the two of them leaning up against the wall. They were close enough for their red plaid blanket to cover both sets of legs. About an hour ago, as she’d lightly dozed, he’d wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. Now that she’d sat up, Wendy was using her black cloak as an additional covering over the rest of her body.
Lewis was exhausted but felt surprisingly relaxed too. Glancing at Wendy, he noticed her eyes were at half-mast and she looked at peace.
“Sun’s coming up,” he whispered.
“That’s gut.” She smiled. “It always does, doesn’t it?”
He couldn’t help but smile at her—or hide the love he had grown to feel for her. “You look pretty, Win.”
Surprise flared in her eyes before she glanced away. “Surely not.”
“I wouldn’t lie about that.” Actually, he didn’t know if he’d ever seen a lovelier sight than the morning light shining on her. Not wanting to embarrass her further, he said, “Now that the weather is cleared, I reckon help will be here soon. You, Miss Schwartz, have almost survived your first teacher-led sleepover.”
She chuckled. “Indeed I have. But let us hope and pray it’s my last teacher-led sleepover too.”
Stretching a bit, he looked at her in concern. “How are you feeling?” Yes, her blue dress was wrinkled and wisps of hair had escaped from her white kapp, but her eyes appeared bright.
“It’s been a long night but . . . not terrible,” she whispered. “I can honestly say I’ve had worse nights than this one.”
“I thought the same thing.” He would have never guessed that yesterday afternoon and evening would’ve gone so well or so smoothly. Maybe it was because the children were Amish and not used to a lot of creature comforts. Or because many were treating the experience like a grand adventure. But Lewis believed much of the credit went to Wendy.
She’d been amazing. While the students ate their lunches, she’d gotten out a tablet and quickly written down a schedule—thinking of activities all the way until eleven that night. After sharing with Lewis that she wasn’t even going to attempt to teach math that afternoon, Wendy played games with the kids. Before long, they were immersed in Seven-Up, Duck-Duck-Goose, and Hangman.
She’d also supervised bathroom and water breaks, journal writing, and giving out graham crackers as snacks, and had finally had all the children help her rearrange the room so there would be plenty of places for each child to spread out when it was time to sleep.
Lewis had been wowed by Wendy’s seemingly never-ending supply of ideas, treats, and limitless hugs.
“You’ve made a scary situation feel like an adventure,” he said.
“Hardly that. I just have a lot of experience playing with other children. Like I told you, my brothers and sisters and I were a rambunctious lot. We played lots and lots of games when we were little.”
“Well, whatever the reason, I feel sure each child will always remember this night fondly. I bet they’ll tell their parents that you took good care of them too.”
“I didn’t do it alone. You helped, Lewis.”
“I did what I could, but you were the person they trusted.” Feeling like it needed to be said, he added, “I really am sorry that you won’t be returning. You should. You’re a wonderful-gut teacher.”
She shrugged. “I’m sure whoever they hire for next year will do just fine. After a lot of prayer, I decided to let my disappointment go. After all, my mamm always says that dwelling on things that I canna change doesn’t made things better. All it does is foster regret.”
While he agreed with the sentiment, Lewis couldn’t help but bring up what he’d been thinking and praying about over the last few days. “Wendy, I’m sorry you won’t be teaching, but even if you’re not, I don’t want you to leave Charm. Would you consider staying no matter what?”
“I can’t stay and rent a room at your place without a job, Lewis.” Even in the dim light, he could see the regret on her features.
He made sure all of the children were still sound asleep before he spoke again. “I know this is a poor time to discuss it . . . but maybe you could stay if you had a better reason.”
“Such as?”
“Such as becoming my wife.”
She gaped at him. “Are you seriously mentioning marriage right now, right here?” she whispered.
He shrugged. “I guess I am.”
“I . . . I don’t even know what to say.”
“Then how about I do the talking?” Taking care to keep his voice down, he said, “I’ve fallen in love with you, Wendy. I hate the idea of you leaving. I can’t bear the thought of being without you.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Lewis.”
“You don’t have to love me back yet.” Reaching for her hands, he added, “I don’t want to push you . . . but please think about a future with me.”
Just as she was about to answer, they heard the unmistakable sound of sleigh bells approaching. Wendy jumped to her feet, glanced out the window, and gasped. “Oh, my word! Lewis! Children, come look!”
One by one, each sleepy child climbed to his or her feet and padded to the window. Almost immediately, cheers rang up around the room.
It was certainly a sight to see too. Seven sleighs were now lined up outside the schoolhouse, each led by horses wearing blankets. Each sleigh held two adults and many more blankets. And the sky! With the clouds gone, the sun was rising over a clear-blue sky. It was beautiful.
Stretching out her arms, Wendy beamed at them all. “Children, let’s open the door and welcome everyone in!”
That was all the prompting they needed. Paul, who had been standing next to the door, opened it and peeked out. “Hiya,” he said simply to the crowd that stood outside.
Next thing Lewis knew, the room was flooded with parents, promises that more parents were waiting at home, and lots of exclamations and hugs. Children talked excitedly, sharing stories about their adventures and pointing out their makeshift beds.
Emma Beachy walked right up to Wendy and gave her a hug. “Danke for taking such good care of the children.”
Startled by the hug as much as the kind words, Wendy nodded. “You’re welcome, but they took care of me too.”
“I won’t forget this,” said Emma. “N
one of us will. You took care of our kinner when we couldn’t.”
“I’m glad I was here.”
“And still in one piece too,” teased a father of one of the children.
Looking at all the children fondly, Wendy smiled. “I have a feeling, years from now, after I’ve taught many, many children, lots of those days will meld together. But I can be fairly certain I’ll never forget the last twenty hours.”
“You know, you’re right,” said Emma. “It’s always the burnt dinners, messed-up plans, and broken bones that one talks about, isn’t it?”
And with that, Emma and two other parents proceeded to help Wendy, Lewis, and the other adults gather up the children, fold blankets, throw away trash, and begin bundling students and taking them out to the sleighs. In the midst of it all, there were lots of hugs and jokes between Wendy and her twenty students.
Finally, there was only one sleigh left. “This one is for you,” Jonas’s father said. Grinning, he added, “It’s also my pleasure to inform you that there will be no school today or tomorrow. We’ll see you on Monday.”
“Danke,” said Wendy, her voice subdued. Lewis figured she was exhausted. He knew he was, and he hadn’t been feeling the weight of responsibility she had.
“Hand me the key, and I’ll lock the door, Win,” he said as she stepped out into the cold.
“What about the blankets and such? I’ll need to sort them and—”
“And there will be plenty of time this weekend. Not today.” He waggled his fingers. “The key, if you please?” After she handed it to him, he locked the door and took her elbow to help her down the steps and into the sleigh.
“Here’s a good blanket,” Emma said. “It was the warmest one we had at the house.”
“It’s cozy, danke,” Wendy said.
Lewis got in beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Minutes later they were off. The horse practically pranced and danced in the snow as he led the sleigh down the snowy road. Jingle bells rang through the air, making the moment magical.
