by Jerry
As always, I do love you.
Eugene
January 24
My dearest Eugene,
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
My beloved Naomi,
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!
There is no phone in the schoolhouse to call the parents, so I didn’t know what to do about getting Dawn home. I went ahead and called for fourth-grade English class, and when Lester came up he whispered that his brother Mark was acting as if he wanted to throw up. I raced back with the wastebasket and asked Mark if he was feeling sick.
“No,” he said, though he looked it.
I left the wastebasket there for good measure, with clear instructions where vomit belongs. Perhaps a boy can hit a wastebasket, but thankfully we never found out. He did start crying after a while, and when I asked him what was wrong, he said he had chills. The poor boy really was sick, his forehead hot to my touch. I felt sorry for him and got his coat from the rack.
Crystal soon came up with a solution, suggesting that she walk down and call from Lonnie and Luella’s place. Next time I’ll think of that sooner. Within twenty minutes two very worried mothers came tearing into the schoolyard.
Some weeks the work piles up, and then the next there seems to be plenty of time for everything on the schedule. I guess this way I appreciate the good weeks.
I’m presently enjoying seventh- and eighth-grade English. Since this is the second time teaching through the books, teaching involves only a refresher course each day before the class. We are into first person, second person, third person, adjectives, adverbs, predicate adverbs, and predicate adjectives.
Take care, and I will keep waiting for good news from your pen.
Love you,
Eugene
January 25
My dearest Eugene,
How are you feeling by this time? Hopefully better than I am. I have a cold/cough, and a big one at that. I think it’s what has been going around the community, and it sure leaves one feeling pretty rotten. Apparently this all contributed to my missed appointment this morning. I was dreamily working out in the kitchen, baking a cake, when Mrs. Vanhorn, one of my housecleaning bosses, pulled into the driveway. Suddenly I remembered my job with her. Mom went out to speak with Mrs. Vanhorn to explain while I raced upstairs to get ready in a jiffy.
Mrs. Vanhorn was very nice, of course, but that wasn’t the only thing that went wrong. I had told Mrs. Beck I would babysit for her this afternoon, and I didn’t remember that appointment when Mrs. Vanhorn asked me to work late. I arrived home to find out that Mrs. Beck came past to say that she wasn’t feeling well herself and didn’t need me, so things worked out. This is the first time I have been so forgetful in a long time, but it leaves me with worry pimples for days afterward.
Dad went to the work frolick today. They are laying block for Stan Yoder’s basement.
Richard and Joan still haven’t moved into the upper part of their house. They are still living in the basement. At least they are married and together, compared to some other people who shall remained unnamed.
I miss you so much.
Love you,
Your Miss Forgetful
Naomi
January 26
My dearest Naomi,
I am rereading your letter, and I think I can breathe again. How wonderful that you have forgiven me for my stupid blunder. And you can call me Sweetheart all you want. I suppose that will have to wait until I get back home again. It will sound better face-to-face than in letters.
Thursday evening…
Things are in a state of shock around here. The bishop of the church passed away yesterday totally unexpectedly! School is called off out of respect for him. The chairman of the school board called last night and told me the news.
Lonnie and Luella walk around here like pale ghosts. They told me at the breakfast table what this could mean for the church. Another bishop will have to be ordained soon, and they fear Stan will get the office. This would be a disaster from their point of view, as the bishop has a lot of power to take the church in whatever dire
ction he wishes.
They could probably tolerate Stan continuing in his office as a minister if his co-minister got the bishopric, but not if Stan does. No one has come right out and said it, but the fears of a church split are pretty strong, and the bishop still has to be buried.
On other matters, I continue to be amazed at how fast the eighth-grade girls can change their moods. There are days when they are so out of sorts they bring the proverbial thunderclouds with high winds and rain right into the schoolhouse. They challenge me on everything I say and make life miserable in general.
Then the next day they are all smiles, agreeable, accommodating, and sunshine and roses. On those days I can say what I want, and they absorb it without backfiring. I even got them to work on a poster today and received not a word of complaint. Beats me what I did differently. I told Luella I think it takes an angel to get along with those girls. She laughed and said I might as well get used to it. Whatever that meant.
With a happy heart,
Eugene
January 27
My beloved Eugene,
Whew! I finished giving Dad another haircut, even though he just had one a couple weeks ago. I think he likes the attention. And he likes to tease me the whole time. Once he yelled so loud I thought I took his ear off or something. Then when I gave him the mirror at the end, he studied his hair for the longest time and then said, “Why, it’s all crooked. I can’t even go out of the house like this.” He is terrible, that’s what he is.
Mom wanted my help in the kitchen afterward, so it was late before I got back up to my room. I reread your letter, taking more time to absorb things this time. It must have been written just after you read the awful one. I am so sorry, but you sure seem to have taken things well. It warms my heart that you didn’t fall apart. I think you’ll make a wonderful husband, and it wasn’t your fault. I bear plenty of blame myself.
Your sister Mary had new glasses last Sunday, and I forgot to tell you. I think they are close to the same color of mine, and about the same size as the others she had. I think she looks great in them.
How are you feeling by now? And how’s the diet?
Love you,
Naomi
January 28
My beloved Naomi,
Here I am again, and another week of school is completed. Now for the lonesome weekend ahead and the longings to be with you. Sunday will be four weeks since I’ve seen you last, and they have been long, weary weeks.
How sweet it would be to see you this weekend, taking the buggy out on Sunday afternoon for a drive. We couldn’t stop anywhere with the snow and cold, but just to have you with me would be enough.
That was a nice little line about Richard and Joan still not having their house but being able to be together. I share your feelings exactly.
We had school today with only eleven pupils. I suppose it was because of the bishop’s funeral preparations. So I decided to leave the Friday Bible classes off the schedule. I also put the seventh- and eighth-grade science classes together since there was just one pupil per grade.
I went ahead with spelling, but with so many gone this will mean a lot of repeating next week.
I send much love your way as always,
Eugene
January 31
My dearest Eugene,
Greetings of love.
Dad and Don are digging postholes for the fence beside the sidewalk. It has to be frozen ground they’re digging through, but Dad says it needs to be done. I think he wants something to do, as the winter blahs have settled in around here.
Mahlons had church on Sunday, and the hymn singing in the evening. I had a sore throat and couldn’t sing very well, but I still attended with Don.
Sarah, the new girl I like so much, sat beside me, and at the end she asked me why I was sad. I shrugged. Adam Yoder must have been listening on the boys’ bench because he said, “She’s lonely” really loud.
He was right in a way. When you’re not here I don’t feel very well taken care of, but I know it’s not your fault. I wouldn’t want you away from your school teaching just so you could be with me. But the loneliness has been bad lately. I shed some tears the last two nights and told myself, “Brace up, Naomi! You’re acting like a baby.”
Julia, Joseph Burkholder, Elaine, and Robert all asked about you yesterday. I think Joseph and Elaine really make a good couple. Joseph was stretched out on the couch Sunday afternoon leaning on his elbow when I walked in. Elaine was curled up beside him on the corner of the couch. They seemed so at ease with each other, and it made me happy for them… but all the more lonesome for you.
Elaine told me later that Joseph also gets depressed sometimes, and he doesn’t know why. Joseph told her that maybe he should go on your diet. Elaine asks more often about you and is more sympathetic than any of the other girls. I really think a lot of her.
Missing you awfully,
Naomi
January 31
My dearest Naomi,
The last day of January. Whee! February here I come.
I’ve been reading of your hair-cutting ventures with much interest. So I get a barber in the marriage deal? Well, that suits me fine as long as you cut straight. And it sounds like your dad is keeping tabs. That was funny.
Guess what? I saw a girl yesterday that could have been your twin. She looked so much like you, I could have cried. She was a little shorter and she had freckles, otherwise—there you were.
She was at the funeral, hanging really close to the boy she was with. I hardly ever saw them apart so I figured they were likely married. This evening I mentioned to Luella that I had seen someone at the funeral who looked like you. Luella had a vague recollection of the couple, but she was certain they weren’t married. They wouldn’t have hung around each other all day, she said, if that had been the case.
I said, “Sounds like someone is a little bitter,” which set Luella off, and she had to prove her point by calling down to Saul’s house. Janie knew the couple, and she also knew they weren’t married. So Luella rubbed that in really good.
Luella also asked Janie if the girl had looked like you. Janie said, “Yes, she sure did.”
I wish you were here—not somebody who looked like you.
Tuesday…
Last night was the school board meeting, and things went fairly well. I had a lot of items to ask them about, and it took time. All three of them commented on how different I seem and act since I’ve been on this diet. They brought it up, so there must be something to it. I know I feel better, but I hadn’t thought it was that noticeable a difference.
They seem very certain they want me back next year. I told them no because I want to get married.
Crystal’s dad is the chairman of the school board, and he told me last night they have been noticing how moody Crystal is lately, and that I was not to take it personally. She acts the same way at home, and they think it’s just part of growing up. A phase perhaps. He said his wife went through the same thing and even came close to blacking out at times when she was Crystal’s age. After her first baby, the mood swings cleared up. This is all good to know, but I don’t think I’ve been taking her moods personally.
It’s very scary to be out here, not knowing what the next letter will hold. So I try to sit tight and hold my breath and hope for the best.
I love you,
Eugene
* * *
FEBRUARY
* * *
February 1
My dearest Eugene,
I have finished washing the supper dishes, and Mom and Dad are in the living room eating popcorn. I think I’ll scribble this letter quickly and then join them.
Yesterday I received a letter from an old friend, Beth Miller, from northern Indiana, whom I had written to on an impulse. I was thrilled when she wrote back, as I hadn’t expected to hear from her. The letter wasn’t anything you would be interested in, just girl talk and catching up on news.
It tickles me the way you and the eighth
-grade girls get along. I agree with you on girls having moods. I’m a champion on changing mine from one minute to the next, so you have been warned.
This weather is unbelievable. It’s warm, the sun is out, and there’s plenty of mud again. I’m sort of glad it isn’t snowing because this way I won’t miss babysitting days. It’s good to get out of the house, and I love all the children I care for.
I want to help on the farm as much as I can, but there’s not that much to do right now. Don helps with the little building projects Dad has going on, and I help with the chores when I can.
Tomorrow is the sewing at Ben Troyer’s place. I’ll attend the evening youth gathering to break the monotony and loneliness, but I will stay away from the women’s get-together during the day. I don’t feel up to their chatter about babies and husbands.
Don’t let me depress you just because I’m down. Your letters help so much! I’ll sign off now. Perhaps popcorn will fortify my soul.
I love you so much,
Sweetheart.
Naomi
February 3
Dearest Naomi,
I have this thought within my heart,
That gives me hope when we’re apart.
I dream our paths again will cross,
And that our love can bear the loss.
Were life to take these hopes from me,
I’d still believe someday your face I’ll see.
I’m home from school, and it looks as if winter has finally arrived to stay. It’s snowing and blowing outside like a wild man, and with this flat country there is little to stop the wind.
Yesterday was Groundhog Day, but I don’t think any groundhog was stupid enough to come out of his hole. If by chance he did, he certainly saw no shadow as it was cloudy and dreary all day.
Things at school are drifting into the winter doldrums. I carry on, placing each foot in front of the other, smiling when I can. Hopefully, now that the snow has come, the children will have more inspiration to play outside.
