Needle and Thread

by Ann M. Martin

  “Both of us?” asked Mrs. Mandel.

  “Just for a minute. I’ll stay here with your class.”

  Looking puzzled, Mrs. Mandel and Mr. Donaldson left the room. Mr. Giordano winked at the kids, then put a finger to his lips. Finally, he peered into the hallway. When he reappeared, he said, “Okay, Olivia, you can go to the front door and tell everyone to come in.”

  “Me?!” squeaked Olivia. She hadn’t known this big job would be given to her. Remembering not to run, she strode down the hall and flung open the door. Standing in the parking lot were the parents and grandparents and other party guests. “Come in!” cried Olivia.

  Several minutes later, Mrs. Mandel and Mr. Donaldson returned to the classroom. They opened the door.

  “SURPRISE!” shouted a roomful of people. Mrs. Mandel put her hand on her chest and opened her mouth but didn’t say a word. Mr. Donaldson just stared.

  “I think they’re really surprised, don’t you?” Olivia asked Nikki.

  “Definitely.”

  Mrs. Mandel plopped down into her desk chair for a moment. While she recovered, Olivia’s mother made a speech. “You were my favorite teacher,” she said, “and now you’re my daughter’s favorite teacher. We have all been lucky to have you in our school and our lives and our hearts.” (At this, Mrs. Mandel had to start a search for some Kleenex.) “We understand, though, that things change. Your family needs you now. So we say good-bye, knowing that we’re better people because of you. And we say welcome to you.” (Mrs. Walter nodded toward Mr. Donaldson.) “We’re glad you’ve joined the Camden Falls Elementary community.”

  After this, Olivia remembered lots of laughing and crying and applauding and hugging, all in a rush like a giant ocean wave. Then Flora, who had been elected for the job, stood at the front of the room and nervously read the sentence she’d prepared: “Mrs. Mandel, because we’re going to miss you, and Mr. Donaldson, because we welcome you, we’ve made you some presents.”

  Olivia and her classmates produced their gifts, each accompanied by a card or letter. Packages were pulled out of desks and backpacks and coat pockets and out of shopping bags that had arrived with parents.

  Mrs. Mandel looked at the growing mound of presents on the desk. “You made all of these things?” she said. “I’m overcome.”

  Mrs. Mandel and Mr. Donaldson spent the rest of the party opening the gifts while refreshments were served. Every so often, Mrs. Mandel would hold up a painting or a clay dish and say, “I absolutely can’t believe this is handmade.” And Mr. Donaldson, sifting through his stack of paintings and drawings, said at last, “We’ll have to create an art gallery in our room for all your beautiful work.”

  Olivia smiled at her parents, Nikki held Mr. Pennington’s hand, Flora showed Min around the room. It was a lovely party, Olivia thought, and not as sad as she had feared it would be. At the end of the day, shortly before the last bell rang, Mrs. Mandel said, “Boys and girls, now I have something for you.” She opened her desk drawer and pulled out a stack of envelopes. “I wrote each of you a personal letter. You may read the letters when you’re at home.” She began to hand out the envelopes. “You’ve been a wonderful, inspiring class, and I’m going to miss you.” Later, when the party was over, Mrs. Mandel hugged her students as they filed out the door.

  Olivia burst into tears when Mrs. Mandel hugged her, and her teacher smiled and said, “Remember to read your letter.”

  Olivia waited until after dinner that evening. She took the letter to her bedroom, shut the door behind her, and opened the envelope. Inside, on pale blue paper decorated with hummingbirds, were written the following words:

  Dear Olivia,

  These are the things I like about you:

  1. Your gift for science

  2. Your energy

  3. Your spirit

  4. Your strength

  5. Your enthusiasm

  You are a remarkable person and I will miss you.

  Your teacher,

  Mrs. Mandel

  Olivia tucked the letter in her treasure box. When she found it there several years later, she moved it to her desk drawer. She took it to college with her, and as an adult, she always knew where the letter was.

  When Ruby thought about it, she realized there aren’t a lot of Thanksgiving songs. There are a few hymns of thanksgiving, but as a holiday, Thanksgiving isn’t as musically rich as Christmas. Ruby could even think of some Halloween songs, but Thanksgiving — well, it certainly wasn’t anything like Christmas when it came to music. Which was why Ruby had been surprised to learn that the first time the Camden Falls Children’s Chorus would give a performance would be at the Thanksgiving service at the community center, and that they would not be singing hymns.

  Ruby tried to be polite when she heard this news. She raised her hand (instead of calling out).

  “Yes?” said Ms. Angelo, the director of the chorus.

  Ruby, standing third from the right in the second row, lowered her hand. “What will we be singing?” she asked.

  “We’re going to perform two of the songs we’ve been rehearsing this fall: ‘You’re Never Fully Dressed Without a Smile’ and ‘Winter Wonderland.’ Two upbeat songs, one of them about winter — because believe it or not, winter is almost here.”

  Ruby was elated. “You’re Never Fully Dressed Without a Smile” was from Annie. Maybe Ruby would even be given a solo part.

  As it turned out, Ruby did not have a solo. For the first performance of the new season, no one did. “There will be plenty of solos in future performances,” said Ms. Angelo. “But this is our first, and we just need to practice singing and working together and being in front of an audience.”

  Still, Ruby was excited about their concert. Thanksgiving, in fact, was going to be a big day — first the service at the community center, then the dinner that Min had organized. So Ruby was disappointed to discover, when she joined Min and Flora in the kitchen on Thanksgiving morning, that Flora was near tears.

  “What’s the matter?” Ruby asked her sister.

  “What do you think is the matter?” was the sniffly reply.

  “Flora,” said Min, “I know you’re sad, but do you think you could use kind words when you address Ruby? All she did was ask you a question. I’m very sorry you’re upset, but if you’re going to be rude as well, you need to go back to your room.”

  “Sorry,” said Flora. “I mean, I really am sorry.”

  “We do have a lot to look forward to today, you know,” said Min. “We also have a lot to do. If you want to take your mind off things, you can help me with the scalloped potatoes. I’ve never made scalloped potatoes for sixteen people before. Thank goodness I’m not in charge of the turkey. Now, where did I put those jars of olives?” Min began searching through cupboards. “My land, I just remembered, I’ll need to put out butter, too — on both tables. Oh! Girls, did you make the place cards yet?”

  Ruby started to giggle, and Flora smiled. Then Ruby sniffed the air. “What do I smell?” she asked.

  Min made a dash for the oven. “Sticky buns!” she exclaimed, rescuing them from the oven. “Now, why did I think I would have time to make sticky buns this morning?”

  “Yum,” said Ruby. “I’m glad you did.”

  Ruby and Flora and Min sat down to a quick breakfast of Min’s homemade buns. When they were finished, Min said, “Now, we need to make sure the tables are ready for this afternoon. The service starts at eleven, and everyone will arrive for dinner at two, so we won’t have time to do much in between. Come look at the tables with me.”

  The dining room table, with the leaf added, was to be set for ten people. In the living room, two card tables had been joined together, covered with a tablecloth, and would be set for six people.

  “What do you think?” asked Min.

  “They’re going to look beautiful,” replied Ruby.

  “There’s just one problem,” said Flora. “The dining room table is for the adults, right? And if you leave things th
is way, Robby winds up eating at the kids’ table.”

  “Oh, dear,” said Min. “You’re right, Flora.”

  “I have an idea,” said Ruby. “When Robby and his parents arrive, you could say, ‘Hi, Robby. Happy Thanksgiving! I have a question for you. Could I put you in charge of the kids’ table in the living room?’ You could seat him at the head of the table. I bet he’ll want to eat with us.”

  “We want him to eat with us,” said Flora.

  “Good thinking, Ruby,” said Min. “Here, why don’t you and Flora put out the place cards in the living room, and I’ll put them out in the dining room?”

  “Flora, can you do it?” asked Ruby. “I have to get ready for the performance. We have to be at the community center early. Mrs. Longyear is going to pick me up. She’s going to drive Ava and me since the Morrises are away.”

  Ruby ran upstairs and dressed in the white blouse and navy skirt that Min had pressed for her the night before. Everyone in the chorus would be wearing a white shirt or blouse and navy pants or a skirt. Ruby pictured Min and Flora seated in the community center, looking at the sea of navy and white on the risers at the front of the room.

  Ruby lay on the floor. She did a few yoga exercises. Then she stood up and sang both of the songs they would be performing. The songs were to be sung from memory. No sheet music allowed. (No musical accompaniment, either.) Ruby checked herself in the mirror once more. She was ready.

  The community center, a large shingled structure just outside of town, had been decorated for Thanksgiving. Ruby drew in her breath when she stepped through the double doors. The last time she had been there, for a rehearsal, the center had seemed cavernous and dim. Now, in the light of a November morning, it seemed friendlier. And to Ruby’s delight, sheaves of dried corn adorned the end of each row of seats. In the front of the room were enormous arrangements of autumn flowers, and on a table was a cornucopia, gourds and vegetables spilling from it across a pumpkin-colored tablecloth.

  The members of the Children’s Chorus waited in a room near the back door of the center while the Thanksgiving service began. Ruby could hear music playing, and someone with a very deep voice talking about blessings, and then more music. Min and Flora, she knew, were sitting with Mr. Pennington somewhere near the front of the main hall, Mr. Pennington in his three-piece suit, Min in her very best pants suit, and Flora wearing a dress she had made mostly by herself.

  “Kids? Ready? It’s time to go,” said Ms. Angelo at last, and Ruby was surprised to find that she felt nervous.

  With Ms. Angelo leading the way, the members of the Camden Falls Children’s Chorus filed into the main hall and onto the risers at the front, just as they had rehearsed. When they were standing in their places in four neat lines, Ms. Angelo waited until all the rustling and shifting around had stopped. She smiled at her students. Then she played a single note on the piano and raised her arms. In clear voices, Ruby and the chorus began “Winter Wonderland.” The audience was hushed, the only sound in the center the confident notes of the members of the chorus. Ruby looked out into the audience, lit by sunshine filtering through the tall windows, and tried to find Min and Flora and Mr. Pennington. There they were. Ruby flashed them a smile, and Min and Mr. Pennington smiled back at her. Flora gave her a quick thumbs-up sign.

  Ruby shivered. Outside, the day was blustery. Inside, the center was warm, and she was surrounded by friends and family and music and tradition and peace. She smiled especially widely as she sang, “… but brother, you’re never fully dressed without a smile!”

  Two hours later, the service over, Ruby was at home waiting with Flora and Min for their Thanksgiving guests to arrive. She had changed out of her skirt and blouse and was wearing a jumper that Min had made for her.

  “You girls are a picture,” said Min, standing back to survey her granddaughters.

  “Thank you,” said Ruby.

  Flora studied the tables, which were now ready for the feast. They were laid with Min’s best china, her silver, and her crystal. A place card stood at each dinner plate. Fresh flowers had been arranged in vases. Dishes of olives and nuts had been set out.

  “Min,” said Flora, “everything looks wonderful, but I’ve never seen so many forks and spoons and knives. There are two of each at every place. How will we know which ones to use when?”

  “Don’t worry about that,” said Min. “It’s partly for show. Do you know whose china and silver this is?”

  Ruby and Flora shook their heads.

  “It was my great-grandmother’s originally, and it’s been passed down to each generation. Someday it will be yours.”

  “Your great-grandmother’s!” exclaimed Flora. “That would be my great-great-great-grandmother’s.”

  The doorbell rang then, and Ruby cried, “The first guests! Let me answer it!”

  She opened the door to Mr. and Mrs. Fong, each holding a covered dish.

  “Happy Thanksgiving!” said Ruby.

  “Happy Thanksgiving,” they replied.

  In no time, the rest of the guests had arrived, and Min’s house was filled with talking and laughter and good smells and neighbors in their best clothes. Robby, wearing a suit and tie, had already agreed to be in charge of the kids and had draped his jacket over the chair at the head of the table in the living room.

  Min had made spiced cider, and Mr. Fong was in charge of serving it. Mr. and Mrs. Edwards helped Min in the kitchen. Olivia’s mother passed around hors d’oeuvres she had made. The Willets sat on the couch by the fire, Mr. Pennington across from them. Jack and Henry ran around and around the house until their father gave them a pad of paper and a pencil and asked them to find out what everyone wanted to drink with dinner. Ruby, Flora, and Olivia sat by themselves with plates of hors d’oeuvres, ankles crossed delicately, and pretended they were at a ball at the governor’s mansion. And Daisy Dear lay down under the dining room table, knowing that food would soon be served, while King Comma hid on the bottom shelf of a bookcase, eyes round and hackles raised.

  When dinner was finally ready and everyone was seated, Min stood at the head of the table in the dining room and said, “Ruby and Flora and I want to thank you for joining us on our first Thanksgiving together in Camden Falls. We’re happy that you’re able to celebrate it with us, and we’re grateful to be surrounded by such wonderful friends. And such wonderful food,” she added, surveying the table, which was laden with steaming dishes.

  Ruby, looking at her sister, at Robby, at Olivia and her brothers, and then at the adults seated in the dining room — at all the smiling faces turned to Min — forgot for a moment that this was a different Thanksgiving from any she had known and thought only that this was a happy moment that she would hold in her heart.

  If you were to walk down Main Street at the end of Thanksgiving Day in the year that Flora and Ruby Northrop moved to Camden Falls, you would find it nearly deserted. Lights are on in most of the shopwindows, though, so the street looks cheerful. The only person in sight is Sonny Sutphin in his wheelchair, making his way home. He didn’t have anyone to share Thanksgiving with, and he wanted to get out for a breath of air and the familiar sights of Main Street before he retired for the evening. It’s been a long, lonely day. Sonny pauses to look in each window as he passes, grateful that the next day is not a holiday and town will be busy again.

  Now, if you were to walk out of town and along the country roads to Nikki Sherman’s house, you would find, on this Thanksgiving evening, a happier family than usual. Mr. Sherman has been on his best behavior all day and has had nothing, not even a beer, to drink. Furthermore, the night before, when Tobias opened the front door and found on the stoop a large basket containing a smoked turkey and cans of vegetables and a bag of rolls and everything one might need for a Thanksgiving dinner, Mr. Sherman allowed it to be brought inside and appreciated. There was no note with the basket, which Nikki suspects is from Mrs. DuVane, and this is the kind of charitable act which is apt to anger her father. But he said nothing abo
ut the old bat or the basket — not the night before, and not today — and the Shermans have enjoyed an actual Thanksgiving dinner at their kitchen table, and even better, a day with no fighting. Nikki doesn’t expect this to last, but she is thankful, extremely thankful, for one day of peace and quiet, not to mention her very full belly.

  Now walk back to town. The country roads are quiet. There is almost no traffic this evening, but a stiff wind is blowing, and every now and then a coyote can be heard howling in the distant hills. Walk along Main Street again. Sonny Sutphin is gone, and the only living thing in sight is a skinny scared kitten who has discovered that Sharon leaves dishes of food and water outside the door to the Cheshire Cat.

  Turn left at Dutch Haus, then right on Aiken Avenue, and there are the Row Houses. Tonight two of them are dark. The Morrises and the Malones will not be returning from their Thanksgiving holidays until Sunday. But lights are on in the other six homes.

  If you peek into the Fongs’ house, you’ll find Barbara and Marcus standing in the middle of the room on the second floor that they have decided will be their baby’s nursery.

  “It’s not too early to start thinking about decorating it, is it?” asks Barbara.

  Marcus grins. “I don’t think so.”

  “We could paint murals on the walls.”

  “I like that idea. What about jungle animals?”

  “Or sea creatures?”

  “What should our color scheme be?”

  “Yellow and green,” says Barbara. “And blue.”

  “Pastel colors.”

  “I was thinking that I could make pillows and bumper covers and all sorts of wonderful fabric things for the room.”

  Next door, Robby and his parents are seated at their kitchen table. Mr. and Mrs. Edwards are drinking coffee from their HIS and HERS mugs, and Robby is making turkey sandwiches for their supper with some of the leftovers Min gave her guests as they were leaving.