November 11, 1931
Dearest Cecilia,
I so appreciate the encouraging letters that come from you, dear sister! You cannot imagine how I miss you and our long chats. Your counsel is more important to me than you can imagine.
I agree that I should try to encourage Pearl’s friend and perhaps help her get some learning. I do not know how I will be able to persuade her to come to school, and I am not certain she will be accepted by the other children. If Mr. Wallace’s attitude is representative of that of all the folk here, it would not be a good idea to introduce her into the classroom. This is especially true since I have learned that the child also is of the Catholic faith. You will not be shocked to know that the people here have a strong aversion to any interpretation of Scripture different from their own, being as how Father has similar attitudes. I am grateful that you, Mother, and I have learned to be more broadminded. That summer we spent with the O’Seanaseays broadened us in so many ways that we were not even aware of at the time. The training we got in Ireland is serving me well now as I try to introduce new ideas to the people here. They are kindhearted in general, but I must admit that they tend to be close-minded.
Please continue to pray for me—for all of us. It has become quite cold here, and some of the children still do not have enough warm clothing. If you get the chance, please try to gather some blankets and more woolen garments. I can take all sizes, from infants on up to large sizes for men. The older boys are as large as men. The stove at the schoolhouse malfunctioned today, which made conditions uncomfortable for some of the more poorly clothed. The boys got it started again in short order, but I hope it does not happen again.
I love you and miss you terribly!
Emily
P.S. I have been corresponding with Jonathan about the possibility of establishing a scholarship fund for some of the brightest of my students. If you see him, please encourage him, and also it would not hurt to garner enthusiasm for the project among our friends.
November 12, 1931. I found out today that Otis Merriweather is struck on me, which makes me mad because I do not want him plaguing me to death with his loud and loutish ways, not leaving me alone, getting me into trouble. He is in the sixth grade and is a year older than I am. I have never paid him much attention because he is always running around with the other boys and acting out. At dinnertime today, he pulled my hair as he ran by me. Five minutes later, he did it again. I slapped at him that time and told him to leave me alone, but when I did, he grinned at me. That is how I know he is struck on me.
I did not see Darlene today. I wish she would come over. Mama told me not to go see her. Billy Ray was home. Mama does not like Billy Ray any more than I do.
November 13, 1931
Dear Jonathan,
I do appreciate the letters you have sent of late, and I appreciate that you are continuing to find ways to provide for the needs of these good people here in the mountains of East Tennessee. We always can use warm clothing, and we always need shoes. Believe it or not, a couple of the children still are going without them, even though the ground is sometimes frozen in the mornings. They wrap their poor little feet in rags, then walk several miles to be here every morning. Education is that important to them. Even the children who do have shoes are often ill shod, wearing shoes that fit poorly or are full of holes.
Please continue to pray for me, and for all of us. I look forward to the Christmas holidays when we can get together for a nice visit.
Sincerely,
Emily
November 13, 1931. Sardius has noticed that Otis Merriweather is struck on me. We were eating our dinner when Otis came right up to me and told me I looked nice. I pretended not to notice while he looked at the ground and turned beet red, and Sardius was nice enough not to say anything, until we were walking home this afternoon. He started to tease me about it, but Beryl was listening in, so he changed the subject. Sardius is a good brother. So is Jasper. Neither one of them would scunder me about anything if they could help it. Beryl might, though, if she knew there was a boy who liked me.
Sapphire is getting fatter. Mama looks like she is filling out a little, also. That is good news! She is looking livelier. Daddy pinched her cheek tonight and she swatted at him, but she laughed when she did it.
November 14, 1931
My dear Cecilia,
I have been informed by the Reverend Miller that there are some people in a neighboring community not at all far from here who are extremely antipathetic toward people of the Catholic faith. He tells me that there used to be a robust Catholic church there, but a year ago, some men came one night, looted and desecrated the sanctuary, dragged the priest out of his bed, and beat him severely. He left the next week, the church was never used as a place of worship again, and the small Catholic congregation has been driven underground. I understand that they meet secretly in their own homes for worship. They go to Maryville about once a month to the only Catholic Church in the region to make confession. It is my understanding they are constantly in fear for their lives.
Cecilia, as you may imagine, I find myself alarmed at this news. When I see my neighbors and the parents of my students, I see only kindhearted, peaceful people. It is almost impossible to believe that they might harbor hatred toward other Christians simply because they worship in the way of Rome.
This disturbs me greatly. If Pearl’s friend is vilified for being both colored and Catholic, I do not know how I can begin to counsel Pearl, and I certainly worry about what may befall her friend if the news is told abroad. It is too disconcerting to think about. Please pray for us all.
Love,
Emily
November 15, 1931, I still have not seen Darlene. It makes me sick to think that she is still mad at me. She is the only friend we have here in this holler. Mama tried to cheer me up yesterday by letting the hems out of my dresses that have gotten too short. She also fixed up my gingham. It did not have enough of a hem to let out, so she put some grosgrain ribbon at the bottom, and then added a pretty ruffle below it that she made out of a flour sack.
I wore it to church today. Mama stayed up late last night putting a wide collar on it just like one we had seen in the catalogue, and she surprised me with it this morning. I felt very fine in it, especially since it went so well with the sweater that Sardius and Jasper had bought me with their calf money.
Miss Weston said some things in her sermon that made me feel a little better about Darlene. She said that God’s love is bigger than rules that people make up about what they think He wants us to do. Everyone who reads the Bible pays attention to different things, and because the Bible is so big, most of us do not pay attention to all of it. Sometimes we get caught up paying too much attention to some things that are not so important, and we do not pay enough attention to other things that are very important. The biggest, Number One Rule is to love God and Jesus with all your heart, and the Number Two Rule is to love your neighbor as much as you love yourself. I guess that means I cannot be mad at Darlene, even though she is wrong about which rules you are supposed to follow. I should love her even though she has got to repent of her sins to Jesus, not a priest.
November 15, 1931
Dear Cecilia,
I have had a heartening day. God revealed to me a sermon that I think has encouraged my little flock to be more inclusive of others, particularly in regards to interpretation of Scripture. I delivered it this morning to a surprisingly large number of congregants, and it seemed to be very well received. There were several “Amens” at important points.
As usual, I took Sunday dinner with the Aikens, and enjoyed my afternoon with them and with the Wallace family. After the meal, I managed to pull Mr. Woodrow aside for a long chat in which I asked him how to go about helping Pearl’s friend and her mother. He warmed right to the subject, suggesting that I invite them to church first, in the hopes that they might be accepted by the community. I mentioned what Revered Miller had told me about the antipathy some people in the
area have about Catholics, so he promised me would speak to them about downplaying their religious preferences and see if they might come with him next week. We had a very nice conversation. He seemed quite happy and relaxed. Because he seemed so eager to be helpful, I became emboldened enough to ask him to stop by the schoolhouse early tomorrow to take a look at the stove. It is getting so cold I would hate for it to go out again on a freezing day.
I feel quite lighthearted these days. My students are industrious and bright, I am invigorated by the crispy chill in the air. The Reverend Miller tells me my sermons are first rate. I cannot help but sing each morning on my way to school! God is good!
I love you.
Emily
Cold, waning days, sparkling, bitter nights
The Spirit sees rancor and is grieved.
The woman lures without capturing.
The stranger captures without luring.
The broken man’s heart glistens with hope.
All will know sorrow.
I run, silent, dark, and cold.
November 16, 1931
My School Journal, grade 7, Miss Weston’s class
By Pearl Wallace
I love summer, but wintertime is nice, also. Tennessee is a great state in which to live because we have all four seasons. In the winter, it snows enough so that we can go sledding. There is a big hill over by my pap-pa’s place. In the spring, fishing is very good. In the summer, we like to go swimming. The river is nice for that, but it is very swift, so our mother does not let the little ones swim in it, and she is even nervous about me and my brothers going in. She prefers for us to go swimming in creeks. Our favorite place to swim used to be at the Y on Little River, up past Townsend, because it was so beautiful and peaceful, but loggers have ruined the place. Now, it is too muddy to swim, and there are no trees on which to rest your eyes. I wish that people would not cut down the trees because it turns the hills into a big, muddy mess.
I like the fall, also. It is very pretty when the leaves turn gold and red!
November 16, 1931
Dearest Cecilia,
The most extraordinary thing happened today! I am still shaking from it—whether it be from fear or astonishment, or simply my grieving over the pain of another, I do not know. This morning I went to school early, well before daylight, and found Mr. Woodrow there, having come to examine the stove, as he had promised yesterday. He had already cleaned it out and lit the fire, so he must have arrived quite early indeed. I opened a window because ash was lingering in the air, and a flying squirrel flew straight toward my face. As you can imagine, I shrieked quite loudly, and before I knew what had happened, Mr. Woodrow threw himself upon me, dashing me to the floor, and he rolled with me into the corner! There I lay, pinned underneath him as he shook so hard he fairly vibrated, whispering in a strange, strangled voice, “Be quiet. Don’t move.”
He pressed against me so tightly I could hardly breathe. My face was crushed against his neck so that I could not even cry out, even as he kept admonishing me to be quiet. I was so overwhelmed—he is so large and so masculine and was shaking almost in an animal way—that I could only lie there, trembling beneath him. At last, after several long moments, I managed to take a breath and squeak out a whisper, “Mr. Woodrow! You must release me!” whereupon, he suddenly seemed to come to his senses, realized what he had done, and he jumped up, pale, shaking, and stammering out an apology. Then he turned and fled.
I was so taken aback that it was some time before I could collect myself to even sit up. How terrifying it was that one moment he was lying on top of me, crushing me to himself, violently shaking, and the next, he had disappeared. I still do not have my wits about me. Every time I think of it, I get so distressed I can hardly think. I hope the students did not notice how disturbed I was over it. I had a hard time concentrating the whole day.
Cecilia, please pray for this dear man. It was a terrible thing to witness.
Your loving sister,
Emily
Cold, waning days, freezing nights.
The stars are as cold as the night,
But the great Orb begins to warm, to call to me.
I feel the stirrings of lust
Echoing in the warm bellies of my upright children.
They do not know what awaits them
As the Great Dark leers.
And the Spirit hovers above all,
Watching without murmuring.
November 16, 1931. Miss Weston seemed out of sorts at school today. She kept forgetting what she was talking about, and a couple of times she sat down all of a sudden, as if her legs had given out from under her. Sardius asked her if she was feeling well, and her face went as red as fire. I hope she is not getting sick.
Darlene’s mother was here when we got home from school, but Darlene did not come with her. I am blue because I miss her. I have decided to tell her that I do not care if she is a Catholic because I love her so much.
Mrs. Carlton and Mama were sitting at the kitchen table, and Mama invited Beryl and me to sit down and have a cup of coffee with them. Beryl drinks mostly milk and sugar when we have it, but I drink real coffee with just a little milk, or cream when Mama does not make it all up in butter. Mama and Mrs. Carlton were getting along just fine, as if Mama did not know that Mrs. Carlton was bound for hell and damnation, and neither one of them said anything about what had happened until about 10 minutes later when Mama mentioned Sunday’s sermon and how sometimes different people look at the Bible and see different things. Then Mrs. Carlton said, “Yes, as long as we follow the Number One and Number Two Rules, we should be fine.”
Beryl had forgotten Sunday’s lesson, and of course, she had to ask what the Number One and Two Rules were, and then Mama asked me if I would like to tell her, so I did. Mama smiled at me and said, “That’s right, Pearl,” and then she asked Mrs. Carlton if she loved God and Jesus with all her heart, and Mrs. Carlton said, “Oh, yes! I love Jesus very much because he suffered and died for my sins.” Then Mama said, “Me, too,” and I did not know what to think of all that, so I did not say anything.
Finally, curiosity got the better of me and I asked Mrs. Carlton when Darlene might come over to see us, and she said, “Maybe tomorrow,” and that is all. I hope she does come. I miss her, and I also want another chance to tell her I love her even though she is wrong about religion. If she loves Jesus, it must be in the wrong way. Mam-ma told me for certain that the Catholics were full of abominations. She had seen it with her own eyes.
November 17, 1931
Dear Jonathan,
It is very kind of you to offer to personally come to escort me home for the Thanksgiving celebration, but I do not think the holiday is long enough to justify such a herculean effort. Of course, I would like to be at home to celebrate with my real family and with all my dear friends, but your offer is far more than I can accept. Even though I know your intentions are gentlemanly, you must realize that it would not be seemly for me to drive all the way from here alone with you.
Jonathan, as much as I enjoy your company, and as much as I regard our friendship, I must caution you again that there is no understanding between us. I do not know which direction the Lord will take me after this year, and I do not know what His intentions are for my eventual marital state. Forgive me for saying this, but I am beginning to think that you are anxious for me to return your affections merely because I have been reluctant. You never even mentioned the possibility of us getting married until I was already committed to my life here.
Of course, I am not foolish enough to believe that I will stay here forever, although there are times I would like to, when the days are so dazzling and the nights are so spangled with stars that one could believe they are close enough to be gathered in one’s pocket like so many garden posies. This place is changing me, for the better, I believe, and if and when I do choose to come home, perhaps you will find me a better person for it.
I hope your holiday is warm and loving. Please give my best
to your family,
Emily
November 18, 1931. Finally! Darlene and her mother were here today when we got home from school. And they were both wearing their new coats! They were so proud of them, and they were so surprised to get them. Mrs. Carlton said they just showed up on their back stoop yesterday, and they had no idea who had brought them, but they were mighty glad to get them. Mama winked at me, and I felt so proud and happy I nearly hugged Darlene. Beryl did, but I was still feeling a little bad about the fight we had, and it made me bashful.
Mama and I have talked about it, and she said I should not say anything at all about Darlene belonging to the Catholics, but to just pray and remember that different people make up different rules but that does not mean we are different in our hearts. I think that Darlene must be different from the Catholics of Ireland. I am sure she loves Jesus as much as I do, and God sees her heart. She cannot help it if she was brought up in the wrong religion.
We got some extra-good news today. Billy Ray is going to work over in Cocke County, on Big Creek, with the logging company. His cousin who is a foreman there got him a job, even though they have cut back the gangs to where there are not many crews left. They are not even cutting timber any more, but are taking apart the shantytowns and railroad. Some people are buying up all the land over that way to turn it into a big park that will let folks enjoy the mountains. I think that is a good thing. Those loggers have stripped all the trees off the hills over in Sevier and Cocke counties so that it is just a muddy mess. I do not know how they will put it back together again, but they say there is going to be a big push to plant it all back the way it was before the loggers came in.
I am glad that Billy Ray has a job now, moving all that logging equipment off the mountain, because, starting a week from Monday, he will be gone all during the week, and be home only on Saturday and Sunday. That means I will be free to sneak over to see Darlene after school. I cannot stand even looking at Billy Ray’s hide. He looks at me funny when I am over at Darlene’s house. Sometimes he is mean, and sometimes he grins at me as if he knows something on me. I suspect he is thinking about my daddy’s drinking.
In the Midst of Innocence Page 10
