by Jerry
I miss you greatly,
Eugene
September 19
Dearest Eugene,
Greetings of love.
You said in one of your nice letters that you wonder if I’m going to look and act the same when you see me again. I suppose I will—at least I hope I will—and if not, perhaps it will be for the better. Let’s keep our courage up. Life can bring strange things to our doorstep.
It sounds like you’re really busy in school and having an interesting time studying commas and semicolons. I loved English in school, but I may have forgotten some of it. Still, it shouldn’t take much to refresh those things.
It’s a chilly evening here, and as you can see I didn’t get anything written yesterday. This was the first Sunday since you left that I felt so relaxed. I don’t think it was you though. I mean because you weren’t here, but maybe because I’m getting used to the routine without you. Life does keep going on, no matter what.
I helped clear off the boys’ table after church, with them still sitting there, and didn’t get nervous once, even when they teased me about you being gone. One of them dared bring up that Holmes County boy, and I gave him a good glare. Of course, that made them laugh all the more. Well, they will get over it. They know good and well how things stand between you and me.
Congratulations on the peanut butter making. There aren’t many boys who would dare tackle something like that.
I enjoyed hearing about your nature project and the other things at school.
Sister Betsy said your sister Mary told her they have only received one letter from you so far. Betsy said I should write you and tell you to write them too, that it isn’t fair, and I guess it isn’t. If you want to write them more and me less, that’s okay because they miss you a lot.
We’re having the usual ordnungs church next Sunday, where we get our minds refreshed by Bishop Enos going over the rules of the church. But I suppose it’s necessary. And then communion in two weeks from that Sunday. Both districts are joining together for communion Sunday. I guess we are still small enough in numbers that they can fit the whole community into Wayne Helmuth’s big house. At least they can for one day.
I can’t think of anything more to write because, as I’ve told you, life gets so boring around here sometimes.
With all my love,
Naomi
September 20
My dearest Naomi,
One of your wonderful letters arrived today, bringing with it cheer and good humor. It was the one you penned on the Thursday night you didn’t get to bed until Friday morning. That’s sounds funny! You were up with the night owls? Yah. But you really should be getting your sleep, dear one.
The sparrows I installed on Saturday evening at the school are doing fine, flitting and jumping around. They eat during schooltime, scattering seeds all over their pens.
Surprise, surprise! Jared brought a mouse to school this morning, a furry little thing that peeked out from under a blanket. He came complete with a cage Jared had made himself. How about that?
Jared admitted, rather sheepishly, that their cat had caught the mouse and was playing with it in the yard. I guess the whole family rushed to the rescue, only to place the poor thing in prison here at school. Talk about a mouse’s hopes raised and dashed again.
The rest of the school has finally fallen into a boring routine, which is good I guess. The students sit at their desks, hard at work, as I rush about as quietly as I can conducting classes.
While I think of it, let me pass on this piece of church news. That is, if you are into this type of thing. I love this sort of history.
The church here belongs to a small group of what are called “The Sleeping Preachers” churches. They are the remnant of a Mennonite revival from the late 1870s when, in reaction to a rapid liberal drift, a few preachers developed an unusual method of delivering sermons called “spirit preaching.” They would appear to fall asleep in the early evening, rising a few hours later in a trance to preach on the themes of repentance, spiritual renewal, and a return to simpler lifestyles.
This explains some of the unexpected characteristics of this Mennonite church. Because I’m interested in such things, Lonnie gave me some of the Sleeping Preachers sermons to read. I can’t say I was very impressed, but they contain some good things. It explains why so many in this church are opposed to cameras and Sunday school. Both things were preached against strongly by the spirit preachers.
On other matters, I enjoyed the singing on Sunday evening, which was at another church. It reminded me of home, although that certainly didn’t help my loneliness. There were around 450 people in attendance, and they started the evening with the whole group singing for fifteen minutes. After that, their Bible class of young people sang, followed by a choir of sixty men and women. To finish things off, the audience sang a few more songs. Most of the songs I didn’t know, but all the singing was without musical instruments. The church belongs to the Apostolic churches.
Tuesday evening…
I just arrived home from school, and I am feeling somewhat better tonight, so maybe my depression of the past few days has run its course. Your last letter helped a lot. And that’s just a bunch of baloney that there are nicer girls in the world than you. I certainly haven’t seen such a girl yet—and know I never will. I always think that if God made anything better than you, He must have made it in heaven. And about not feeling worthy of me, I thought I was the one who felt that way.
When I arrived home, Luella was gone…and who knows where to. There was no note lying around, so I suppose she’ll be back before too long.
Loretta, a school board member’s wife, was at the schoolhouse this afternoon. We got to talking, and she said she has a confession to make. When she first heard they were hiring a male teacher, she said, “Oh no! Now the schoolhouse will look so bare.” But I think she found out there are boys who also know how to decorate. I wish you could see the inside of the building. I feel more comfortable now that I had the children draw lots of pictures, cut them out, and hang them from the ceiling and paste them in the windows. It cheers the soul in this drab land of theirs, so barren of green trees.
The eighth graders didn’t seem to know the first thing about percentages and decimals when we tackled the subjects today. Maybe they forgot them over the summer. Or it might be the arithmetic books they used last year weren’t very clear. They have new ones this year.
I pray often that God will keep you, guarding and preserving our love until we meet again.
With all my heart,
Eugene
September 21
My dearest Eugene,
“Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid” ( John 14:27).
Greetings of love. This finds me very sleepy and tired at only 6:45 p.m. I have supper ready and waiting. Mom and Dad should be in from chores before too long. I’m keeping the younger children away from the food right now, waving my hands about the kitchen table as if the children were flies. Little flies with two feet, I guess.
The threshing crew arrived early this morning, and they have been at it hard and heavy all day. The last of the men left not ten minutes ago. Thankfully, I didn’t have to make supper for them because the large dinner at noon was enough work. But then I shouldn’t complain. They do so much and so quickly. It would take Dad weeks working alone. By the way, Dad sends Don to help on the crew and gets his share in that way. Dad did help out here today, but it would be too much for him to do it day in and day out. Especially with the way the threshing crew works.
Your sister Mary said yesterday they took your sister Sharon to the doctor. She had a temperature of 104 degrees, and they couldn’t get it down. The doctor said she has a kidney infection and gave her pills. Mary thought that would take care of things, but Sharon was still in bed the last I heard.
I hung new curtains in my room last week. Mom ordered them
through the Sears catalog. They’re light blue and very pretty, but a little fancy. Mom is afraid they’re too fine. I guess I’ll take them down if anyone complains.
Well, here come Mom and Dad in from the barn. They look tired, and I’m hungry enough myself to eat a horse.
Wednesday…
Here I am again on a nice quiet evening. I didn’t have to work today, so I washed clothes. I finally got my poinsettias planted in pots again and up in my room. If I can get red flowers or bracts by Christmas, I’ll be very happy.
Dad and Don aren’t back from Wayne Helmuth’s place yet. Dad was helping fill silo there today. I think he’s working too hard, but he doesn’t listen to me. I filled in for their chores, and now I have supper ready. The hardest thing was throwing down thirty shovels of silage. But it was still loose on top, not like it gets toward the bottom of the silo. There it’s so tight I have to pick it loose with the pitchfork first.
I have to work for Mrs. Bach tomorrow afternoon and the afternoons of Saturday and Monday. Plans are for me to stay with John and their new dog, Buddy. I hope Mrs. Bach gives me some work so I won’t get bored.
I received a letter from you today—the one with all the pupils’ names and descriptions. That was very interesting. Now if you write me incidents from school, include their names. If I don’t remember, I’ll check back on who they are.
Your family hatched up the idea to invite Harvey and his family and themselves over to our place Friday evening and Mom agreed. The excuse is there were birthdays in September. It’s mainly about supper for the old folks and playing volleyball for the young folks. I think the evening will seem empty without you.
Love and prayers,
Naomi
September 22
My dearest Naomi,
I had a big disappointment when I arrived home from school and there was no letter from you. Usually they come every two days. Today though, my hopes were dashed. I’m so lonesome for you, I wonder at times if I can endure it.
It’s late already, and I’m just home from the volleyball game. The game cheered me a bit. Add to that, the sky was crystal clear for the walk home from the schoolhouse with a bright moon hanging low in the sky.
Since I’ve wanted to find old pieces of wood for the school nature display, Lonnie told me he has another farm with a woods on it about a twenty-minute drive from here. So tonight before the volleyball game, Lonnie and Luella took me there. What a lonesome feeling came over me at the sight of the countryside down there. It looks almost like home with the gravel roads, little creek, and woods. We even crossed a one-lane bridge.
In order to find my pieces, I climbed out of the truck to walk around in the woods for thirty minutes or so. I could have sat down and stayed all night. I’m not sure why, but it felt so good to be in the woods again. I did go down by the stream and sit for a few minutes, enjoying the flood of memories it brought.
Beside the stream I found what I was looking for—a small stump and two pieces of oddly shaped wood. I also gathered a bunch of acorns. Lonnie and Luella dropped me off at the schoolhouse so I could set the things up right away. Now I can sit at my desk after school is out and see a little bit of home and think of so many memories of you.
As always I look forward to your letters. Here is another poem.
The Words of Love
Your words are magic as can be.
They cross the world from you to me.
They bridge the distance I can’t sail.
They heal my heart and tell their tale.
Oh, speak the words I long to hear,
Of love, and home, and hearts so dear.
Hush your howls, you heartless foes.
My love she comes, with words she shows.
Her hand, her heart, her gathered hush,
How does she still this worldly rush?
She reaches far o’er hill and plain,
To speak to me her words again.
With all my heart,
Eugene
September 23
Dearest Eugene,
Hi!
Betsy, Rosanna, Don, and I have just finished playing volleyball. We used a piece of twine to represent the net. Don wanted to practice for tomorrow night when Harvey and your family come. We were playing pretty well when Don’s friend Lester came by with his cart and horse. His horse shied from the ball flying around, so we stopped. It was time to quit anyway. I was out of breath and my hands were shaking, so I must have really gotten into the game.
Your mom told me last Sunday how lonesome she was for you. She asked if I had any news. I told her about your nature project, peanut butter making, and that you sent the pupils’ names with their descriptions. I said I would let her read that letter tomorrow night, but I think it’d do her a lot of good if you’d write her a fat, newsy letter.
You’d be surprised how interested people are about everything. Rebecca Troyer told Betsy that if she were dating a teacher, she’d want the fellow to write and describe all the pupils. When Betsy told Rebecca you already had, Rebecca asked, “Oh, can I read it sometime?” So now the list is making its way around the girls who are Betsy’s age.
I counted your letters today, and there are eleven. It seems like you have been away a lot longer than you actually have. Your mom said the same thing. When I said something in Rosanna and Betsy’s presence about it, they had a good roar and little sympathy.
Dad said this morning we should surprise you and plan a trip out to visit. I said, “Well, go with me and his parents! We’re planning a trip.”
He asked when, and I said, “Around Thanksgiving maybe.”
I doubt if they’ll make it, but it’s the thought that counts. And, of course, everyone else wants to go too, especially Betsy. She wants to visit your school with her bucket of curiosity!
Don also wants to come. Anytime someone goes where he hasn’t been, he says he wants to go along. That boy likes to travel to as many different places as he can, but I think everyone is lonesome for you.
Dad finished filling silo today. I think that’s the job all Amish farmers like the least, as it’s sticky, hard, hot work.
Laddie, the colt, is growing like a beanstalk. I didn’t know I could get so attached to an animal, but I figured if I ever did it would be with a horse. I miss your horse, Frosty, too. Partly because she is linked to you, but also I liked Frosty the first time I saw her run. That was before I even knew she was your horse. I’d stand at the living room window where church was being held and watch this gorgeous horse coming down the road, lifting her feet high into the air. I wondered what it would be like to ride behind her. When one of the girls told me it was your horse, it was even more special. And by the way, I didn’t start going with you just so I could ride behind your horse. Don’t be getting any wrong ideas!
Friday evening, 10:30…
Harvey and his family and your parents have left after a very wonderful evening. Adam, Harvey’s oldest boy, brought his girlfriend, Brenda, along. Anna had her sister Lydia Mae visiting at their house, so she also came.
Your family came at 6:30, and even though it had been a dreary, misty day, your brothers still set up the volleyball net and wanted to play. So we started. Harvey and his family arrived around 7:00, and we played until suppertime at 7:30. We ate, washed the dishes quickly, and then played again by the light of lanterns.
I don’t know how many games we played, but on one round one team would win by a large margin, and the next round the other team would do the same thing. It was back and forth, with only one or two games even close. We did more laughing than anything. Your brother, Jared, plus Don, Betsy, and Adam were the clowns. Sometimes I’d be laughing, and the thought of you would cross my mind so it wouldn’t be as funny anymore.
This evening I was sitting in the kitchen when I was reading your letter the first time. I laughed out loud at one part, and my was mom curious about what was so funny.
Also, can you give me more details about the “sleeping preachers”?
I finished rereading your letter again. It cheered me even more the second time. This sure has been a great day.
Well, it’s 11:15, so goodnight.
I love you,
Naomi
September 24
My dearest Naomi,
This is Friday evening, and three weeks of school are now behind me. Not much time compared to what I have to go yet, but at least that’s a start.
I’m invited out for supper tonight at one of the school board members’ homes. Lonnie and Luella are also going. I like being kept occupied evenings with such things. Last night one of the young folk boys took me to a car show just to have something to do. Not that I’m interested in buying a car. They served free coffee and donuts, which were good. Most of the cars were antiques and quite valuable, I was told. They didn’t look all that well made, with wire for wheels and flimsy tops.
Afterward, we stopped at a sale barn where they have an auction every two weeks, and will have one this Saturday evening. I hope to attend. Not to buy because I really don’t need anything. Auctions are much more interesting than sitting around the house.
I’m sending you a copy of my schedule at school. Anything that involves reading, like the lower grades’ reading class, social studies, and science is where the bulk of my time goes. The first grade has classes for writing and spelling, and everything has to be read to them since they can’t read yet. Spelling takes two classes for them because they can’t absorb all the instructions in one sitting.
Arithmetic and English quizzes have to be typed up. Arithmetic quizzes come out of the books, but I choose my own questions. English quizzes are also from the books, but the questions are supplied.
A lot of the extra work goes into the Bible lessons, which lack answer books. I have to come up with the answers, which I hope are all correct. If it weren’t too much trouble, I’d ask the school board members to double-check them.
