Seasons of Sugarcreek 02. Spring's Renewal

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  A slight sense of foreboding tickled her stomach. What did he know that she didn’t?

  Her hands curved around the cards. She looked at the first, from Minnesota. That photo showed children playing in the snow. New Hampshire’s photo was lovely, with its depiction of the mountains.

  South Carolina had a beautiful picture of the beach on the front.

  She flipped again. Then almost dropped all the cards into her lap.

  There, staring right back at her, were three dancing girls, standing on top of a brightly written “Nevada.”

  Dancing girls! Doing her best to look calm and collected, she eyed them more closely. They wore outfits of red and gold sewn from a sparkly material. Their stomachs were bare, as was much of the rest of their bodies. High heels made their legs look long and lean. Bright red feathers in their pinned-up hair were outlandish and fierce. By all accounts, she should be scandalized.

  But it was their expressions that drew her eye. Yes, their faces were painted, but there was a joy in their eyes that made Clara’s heart contract a bit.

  Privately, she thought she’d never seen more beautiful women.

  Nervous laughter drifted through the room as her scholars waited for her to make a comment. All twenty-four pairs of eyes watched her every expression. Never before had she felt so exposed.

  Clara scanned the group. James, in particular, looked full of mirth. Yes, he was very much enjoying this bit of embarrassment.

  Obviously, they all were expecting her to be shocked and dismayed by the sight of such women.

  She was.

  But other emotions flew through her as well. Envy and jealousy were also there. Those two painful emotions that she’d ruthlessly pushed away since she was six and had become forever scarred. In spite of her acceptance with her looks, after all this time…she still wished she looked different.

  Wished she looked different to others as well.

  Slowly, she set the postcards down and walked in front of her desk. “Danke, James, for collecting these cards for me. It looks like we’ll have four new places to mark on our United States map.”

  Several little girls gasped. Anson’s eyes widened. James’s eyes narrowed.

  But it was little Kathryn who blurted out what had to be in everyone’s mind. “But Teacher! Wait! Aren’t you gonna say something? Those women had no clothes on!”

  Well, she supposed that it would have been too much to hope for a quick and easy end to their discussion about the postcards for the day. Schooling her features as best she could, Clara looked at the scantily clad women up and down. “Hmm. I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Kathryn. They do have on clothes.”

  “But not much.” Little Kathryn looked at the other children for support. “Not enough.”

  Two boys in the back snickered.

  Clara sighed. “Well, I suppose we better discuss this, then. James, has everyone already seen the picture?”

  Uneasiness flickered in his brown eyes. “Maybe.”

  “Oh, just tell her the truth, James.” Anson rolled his eyes. “Teacher, he showed it to everyone when they walked in the door today. Even the little ones.”

  “Ah. I see.” She pinned New Hampshire’s postcard on the map to gain some time. What should she do?

  The kids were definitely waiting for a reaction from her. What did everyone expect of her?

  Shock. Anger. Embarrassment. Most likely, their parents were waiting for that as well. Maybe a few would be angry with her. Here, by widening their horizons, she’d brought the children in contact with everything their community tried to protect them from.

  Yes, if she tore up that postcard and talked about the evils of dressing with next to no clothes on and painting a face, most likely everyone would be relieved. It was her duty to be a Christian woman. It was her duty to reinforce the rules that their church and their community believed in.

  And for every day before, she’d done that.

  But as she felt that postcard in her hand, she knew that in this instance, it was something she couldn’t do. Even more importantly, she felt that the Lord was giving her an opportunity too…to share what lay inside her heart.

  “James, what was it about the postcard that you found so appalling?”

  After a moment’s pause, he chuckled. “The way they look, of course! Those there are terrible women.”

  Holding up the card, she scanned the photo again, and then turned it so it faced the class. “I’m not so sure these women here would care for that description.”

  “But—”

  “Let’s face the truth, James. Do we know they are terrible? Without value?”

  “No, but—”

  She widened her eyes. “I, for one, don’t know them at all.”

  “You’re not supposed to know them!” one of her girls in the front row called out. “Miss Slabaugh, don’tcha see? They’re fancy women.”

  Several nodded. “We should throw that postcard away, Miss Slabaugh,” Anson said. “We shouldn’t be lookin’ at pictures like that.”

  “Is that what your mother said?”

  A faint blush colored his cheeks. “No. I mean, she doesn’t know about it.”

  “Ah. Well, when I look at this, I wonder what these women’s lives must be like. Very different from ours, yes?”

  Hesitantly, a few nodded.

  “Let’s read the back. Whoever sent the card wrote us a letter. Maybe this will give us some clues about them.”

  When a few kinner leaned forward, she paused. “Or, have you all already read the postcard, too? James, when you showed everyone the photograph, did you take the time to read them the note, too?”

  Sheepishly, James shook his head.

  “Ah. Well, let’s read it now, shall we?

  “‘Thank you for writing to our state. Your letter was passed to me from a member of our tourism bureau. Since I truly love to travel our great country, I asked to write back to you. There are many things to love about Nevada. We have deserts that stretch farther than your eyes can see. We have the Hoover Dam, a marvel of modern machinery. We have the glitter of big cities, where many people come to visit, to experience new things. Perhaps I should have sent you a photo of one of those things.

  “However, I thought this particular postcard might capture my home the best. These showgirls are bright and lively, and I’ve always thought they had a mischievous glint in their eyes. That, to me, suits Nevada, and my city, Las Vegas, to a T. Las Vegas is bright and lively and different…and not for everyone. But, perhaps…much could be said about other places, too?

  “In any case, best of luck on your project. Sincerely, Melody Brock.’”

  A roomful of students stared at her in surprise. Mentally, she gave thanks to the pen pal who had taken the time to write. She had given them a golden opportunity to discuss the dangers of judging a book by its cover!

  “Ah.” Clara cleared her throat. “Well, I have to say that I enjoyed this woman’s note. Just like our Sugarcreek, Las Vegas isn’t for everyone. But it does sound interesting to me. I wouldn’t mind getting to learn more about a place filled with so many things that are bright and shiny and new.”

  Anson winced. “But the girls—”

  “We don’t know them. Maybe they aren’t nice women. But maybe they are. I sure don’t want to judge them based on what they’re wearing.” She winked. “Besides, something tells me that they don’t wear these fancy costumes all day.”

  “But—”

  “Anson, they are not Amish. That, I know. They have different values. But we can’t hold it against them. That wouldn’t be very Christian, now, would it?” Choosing her next words carefully, she continued: “Don’t you all ever wish the Englischers who see us in our buggies or in our shops would care to get to know us better? Some outsiders think we are none too smart.”

  “I’m smart!”

  “Jah, that is true, Kathleen. You are smart, indeed. All of you are. And you are smart enough to know that it’s not right to judge a person
by only outward looks. Sometimes when you do that, you miss out on a lot.”

  Stunned silence met her. She hoped she’d given them a lot to think about. Oh, her heart was sure thinking about other things, too. How she wished that some of the men in her community would one day overlook her scars and see the rest of her.

  That the people who were blessed with pretty skin and lovely limbs wouldn’t take them for granted.

  But that was all too close to home. Handing the rest of the postcards to one of her eldest students, she said, “Let’s read the rest of our mail and pin them up on our map. Then, I think, we had best work on spelling.”

  James frowned. “My mamm won’t like you putting up those dancing girls on our wall.”

  It was too late to second-guess herself. Especially since she’d just presented a mini-lesson about not listening to other people’s thoughts about what was good and bad. “Then I guess she won’t. But it’s time to move on now. Now, who would like to read the postcard from South Carolina?”

  As ten hands went up, Clara breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps this impromptu lesson didn’t create much of a disturbance, after all.

  Later that day, when she was alone in the classroom, Clara looked at the postcards again. The colorful collection drew her eyes time and again during the day.

  She so enjoyed looking at pictures of the mountains and beaches. The photo of the sand dunes in Indiana had been a big surprise.

  But her eyes kept sweeping back to the trio of women in red. Now that she was alone, she stared at them.

  Instead of pretending not to notice all the skin that was showing, she compared it to her own. She admired their flawless shoulders. The way their right arms were finely muscled and covered in smooth skin.

  With the way their cheeks were perfect and lovely.

  Quietly, she organized her desk and then went around the room and picked up a few stray pieces of trash.

  She fully expected to have a visit from an irate parent very soon. The community had most definitely not hired her to pin up photos of dancing girls on the schoolhouse walls.

  And when the children went home and talked about how she hadn’t painted the women with scarlet words, why some would not appreciate that at all.

  Yes, she was surely about to be in a heap of trouble. But in spite of all that, she had no regrets.

  Except, perhaps, the feelings of envy that had flashed over her when she’d first gazed at the trio of beautiful women. Just for a brief moment, she’d wondered what it would feel like to be beautiful…both inside and out.

  That, of course, wasn’t right. No one should ever be that vain. So full of pride or envy.

  When she looked at the clock, she’d realized that an hour had already passed. So quickly! For the first time ever, she left her book bag on top of her chair. Already she knew she wasn’t going to work that evening.

  Only taking her lunch basket and her key, she carefully locked the door and started home. A faint breeze fluttered her dress. The dark clouds overhead warned that rain was on its way.

  However, she didn’t care. No, right at that moment, she felt free and pleased with herself and just a little bit daring.

  She knew from experience that there would be plenty of time for regrets later.

  Chapter 18

  “I heard about the showgirls,” Tim said one week later when their paths crossed in the baked-goods section of the Graber Country Store. His lips twitched. “It must have been some postcard.”

  “It was,” Clara replied as calmly as she could, though her insides were churning. Now that some time had passed, she was imagining the worst about her reputation as a teacher.

  To her surprise, so far no one from the community had paid her a visit. But she didn’t doubt her decision to pin up that card was a topic of discussion around more than a few of her students’ dinner tables.

  Though none of the children had come right out and said their parents had been shocked, a few looked distinctly uncomfortable anytime they looked toward the postcard wall. The easiest thing would have been to take the offending card down or flip it over and pretend that it had never arrived—but Clara found she wasn’t eager to do that.

  No longer did she want to pretend that stifling stereotypes and unfair judgments were good when they were not. It was a step forward in her path to become more confident. She needed to believe in herself, and in her abilities as much as possible. For too long, she’d been standing in the shadows, hoping for others’ approval. Those habits were proving to be dangerous.

  Now as she stood across from the one man who seemed to see her as a whole person, she willed herself to continue to act as confident as possible.

  Pretending interest in a plate of peanut butter cookies, she murmured, “I suppose Anson had a lot to say?” She could only imagine how her terribly chatty student had conveyed the discussion to his family over a family dinner.

  “Oh, I’d say he did. We now know so much about those dancing girls, if one showed up in Sugarcreek, I imagine we could call her by name.”

  “I’m sorry.” Foreboding flitted through her. “Are you shocked?”

  “Not at all.”

  “I must say I’m surprised about that.”

  A hint of mischief laced his gaze. “You shouldn’t be. Most folks aren’t all that prudish, you know. I, for one, am glad you talked about the dangers of judging people by their looks. Anson and Carrie and Caleb were truly impacted by your lesson. I’m most impressed.”

  Though several people walked by, obviously curious about their discussion, for once Clara didn’t mind being the center of attention. Her mind was intent on his words…and his feelings about her. “I had hoped most parents wouldn’t be mad, but I did expect one or two of them to pay me a visit. Discussing showgirls from Las Vegas is not part of the usual curriculum.”

  With a sideways glance, Tim turned toward her. “Actually, you might be surprised about the focus of the conversation at our house.”

  “And what was that?”

  “We talked about your feelings, Clara,” he said softly. Shifting his weight, he looked her over, as if he was searching for an injury. “No one wants you to be hurt by the unkindness of others. Especially not me.”

  Why did he say such a thing? Clara knew he was in the store with his sweetheart, Ruby.

  Was it just in his nature to be so kind? Or did he have deeper feelings toward her?

  “I’m not hurt,” she sputtered. “I haven’t been for some time.” The moment the words were out of her mouth, she wished she could take them right back. Since when had she decided to be so honest?

  “I am glad for that.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. There was something about his warm gaze, the way he always looked at all of her, saw all of her, that made her feel good. Inside and out.

  But he was not her man. He was never going to be anything more than her friend. Resolutely, she forced herself to remember that. Taking care to keep her voice light, she murmured, “I have to admit I could have used your support while school was in session. For a time I was hoping to be anywhere else. Twenty-four pairs of young eyes gazing at dancing girls was a circumstance I don’t care to repeat.”

  He chuckled. “I don’t think you needed anyone else there at all. You did just fine.”

  “Only time will tell.” She dared to smile…and he returned the favor. His warm attention made her want to stand up a little bit straighter. To be more than she ever thought she could be.

  Someone coughed in the aisle behind them. Bringing a fresh burst of awareness through her. Of what they must look like.

  Oh, but they were cozy, standing close together like gossiping housewives. Taking their time to talk…forgetting the other pressing concerns of the day.

  But perhaps her apprehension was unfounded.

  Around them, other shoppers picked up items and placed them into the Grabers’ signature woven baskets. No one seemed to pay them much mind.

  No one except for Tim’s Ruby. She wa
s standing in a dark green dress across the store—out of speaking distance, but not out of sight. No, she was almost directly across from them, chatting with Judith. Clara blanched when she met the beautiful girl’s hazel eyes. Ruby was eyeing her coolly.

  And while Judith was chatting to several customers and pointing to a few buildings across the street, Ruby seemed to have eyes for only one thing—Tim. It was terribly obvious that Ruby didn’t care for her man to be speaking with Clara.

  It was a new sensation for anyone to be looking at her in that way. As if she was in competition for a beau.

  It should be obvious to one and all that Ruby had nothing to worry about with Clara.

  Tim turned his head when he saw who had claimed her attention. His lips thinned. “Ah. It looks like Ruby is finished with her shopping list.”

  Clara couldn’t help but notice that he sounded aggrieved. That his tone was less than loverlike. But none of that mattered; not really, anyway. She and Tim had become friends of a sort…and she would only embarrass herself further in the community if she neglected to remember that. Pasting a smile on her face, she said, “And how is she liking Sugarcreek?”

  “I think she is liking it fine. She is an easygoing type of person.”

  In Clara’s opinion, the looks Ruby was shooting her way didn’t seem terribly easygoing. In fact, they verged on irritated. But that was not something she was going to mention. “That is a gut quality, don’t you think?”

  “Perhaps.”

  Clara was just wondering about his vague response when he turned. His lips curved into a smile when Ruby moved away from the store’s counter and approached. “Clara here was just wondering how you were enjoying Sugarcreek,” he said.

  “I like it,” Ruby said simply. “I’m enjoying getting to know Tim’s cousins, too. I’m sure he will miss them when we leave.”

  We leave? Had things changed? It had been her understanding that Ruby was only staying for a short time while Tim would stay far longer. At least until the summer. “Are you two leaving soon?”