The Guardian (24 page)

W
hen they arrived at Ned Peachey’s big stone farmhouse, Jodi, Maryanna, and the children were ushered inside, where Ned’s six youngsters sat around the table playing quiet games or coloring.

Jodi was struck by the solemn demeanor of Joshua’s bearded brother Ned. It was quickly apparent that he would not speak to her privately without his wife, Sadie, present. They led Jodi into another room, expecting Maryanna and the children to remain in the kitchen, something Ned communicated with the mere raise of an eyebrow and a jerk of his head.

She sat on a stiff brown settee near a window as Ned took a seat on the sofa next to his wife. “We’ve been lookin’ high and low for a teacher to take Rosaleen Yoder’s place,” Ned began. He went on to explain that they had a good lead on a young woman in another Amish church district, but she was helping an elderly relative in Apple Creek, Ohio, and wouldn’t be able to return for six weeks or more. “Peculiar as this may be to you, Jodi, it seems you’re the only possibility we’ve got at present.”

He paused, sighing, and Jodi wasn’t sure what to make of his words—all of this was slightly surreal.

“What I’m getting to is … would you consider filling in as teacher for our Amish scholars for the time being?” Ned was dressed all in black, except for the long-sleeved white shirt, as if he’d been to church. “This would be for no more than two months, until the school board can locate a permanent teacher.”

“This is quite a surprise,” Jodi replied, stunned. “I don’t know what to say.”

Sober Sadie did not even blink, as far as Jodi could tell. She sat silently draped in a green dress and long black apron, scarcely more than a breathing fixture.

“Jah, no doubt.” Ned tugged on his thick brown beard. “But if you agree, we’ll see to it you receive thorough instruction and some help from Rosaleen between now and when school opens the last week in August. You’ll have plenty of assistance.”

Jodi was still trying to process his request.

“Unfortunately there is less than a month to familiarize yourself with our curriculum and the many expectations of the board.”

Many expectations …

Before she could respond again, he added, “No one amongst the Amish community here has ever hired an Englischer substitute that we know of, so admittedly we’re in uncharted waters.”

So why would they even consider me?

“When do you need to know?” she asked.

Ned rubbed his forehead. “Well, as soon as you feel you can submit to the board’s requirements and start to prepare.” He turned and gave his wife a gentle smile. “Of course, we don’t expect you to teach without pay. We’ll offer you the sum of nine hundred dollars per month. And provide a place to stay, as well, since our typical Amish teachers still live at home.”

Jodi didn’t permit herself to react, not wanting to insult him.
Oh, my goodness.
Was she hearing this correctly? This offer by no means matched the master’s degree salary level to which she was accustomed in the public school system. But the free lodging was quite generous and unexpected. Where did he envision her staying?
If I agree to do this.

“How many students attend the school?” she asked, still numb from the direction of the conversation.

“There are twenty-two children this year in all eight grades.”

Such an ambitious undertaking for any teacher, let alone a very young woman like Rosaleen. And even more so for someone unfamiliar with Amish tradition.

“Would it be possible to review the curriculum—the various subjects—before I decide?”

Ned wore a solemn, scrutinizing expression. “Either Sadie here or our friend Maryanna can answer your basic questions about that.”

Jodi agreed to talk with Maryanna.

“Perhaps you’d like to go and walk on the field roads out yonder. Give this some further thought?” He raised his callused hand and pointed behind the house. “It’s peaceful out there, and one feels closest to the Good Lord near farmland, I daresay. It’s the ideal place to quiet one’s heart.”

It was then Jodi realized:
He wants an answer today.

The rippling alfalfa field quivered with flying insects, bluebirds, and silvery green willows in the near distance as Jodi walked with Maryanna on the dirt path.

“Ned’s eight-mule team goes back and forth to the barn on these perimeter lanes,” Maryanna explained. Then she said
nervously, “By the way, Sadie whispered that Ned encouraged you to come out to talk with me.”

She’s curious to know what’s going on.

Jodi shared Ned’s proposal on behalf of the school board.

“I kinda wondered if that might not be it.” Maryanna nodded, her white cap strings flying.

Jodi confided that she wanted Maryanna’s company—and advice. “I feel like a lone, floundering fish far from sea. And even more than that, why would the school board choose an outsider to instruct the children … even for a few weeks?”

“Well, there was some talk that our bishop took note of how all the youngsters were attracted to you after the Preaching service. From what I heard, he was very impressed with how ya conducted yourself.”

Jodi remembered being encircled that Sunday afternoon. She guessed she could see how the children’s fondness for her might astound the Amish bishop.

“Bishop Beiler believes it was nothin’ short of a miracle that Sarah was brought home safely by you—and that you knew just where to bring her, too.”

Jodi inquired about the curriculum, and Maryanna told her everything she knew about the subjects taught: arithmetic, spelling, penmanship, and reading. “There are also history and geography lessons, and some time in the afternoons for drawing, singing, and storytelling,” said Maryanna. “Of course, the first graders are taught English, too, since up till then they’ve spoken only Deitsch.”

Taking it all in, Jodi thought the three R’s sounded most prominent. Then, without saying more, she made an attempt to submit to Ned’s suggestion to quiet her heart.
Praying is what he really wants.

As she walked, she enjoyed the solitude of the dirt path and
the thousands of maturing plants. She was tempted to reach out and float her hand across the tip-tops of the alfalfa, much as she and Karen had sometimes done. All the walks—and runs—they’d taken together through the years had been so precious, though she hadn’t realized it then.
“The soul yearns for tranquility,”
Karen had said once.
“But the only real peace comes from communing with God.”

“In prayer,” Jodi whispered, startling herself.

Maryanna looked at her. “Sorry?”

“Just talking to myself.”

“I tend to do that, too.”

They walked along in silence for a while. Jodi contemplated Trent’s arrival in Japan. He seemed so eager to work with children of a different culture, offering them something more than mere education.

Would he be surprised if I accept the Amish school board’s request?
She could only wonder, as Trent was out of reach right now. She walked on and let the magnificence of the countryside soothe her heart.

Jodi considered the possibility that finding Sarah along the road had been an answer to her own personal plea that morning—that the world would stop so she could step off and catch her breath.

“Jodi …” Maryanna broke the calm and slowed her pace. “Have ya ever thought that it’s not what we think we ought to do that’s essential for happiness, but what the Lord’s leading us to do … and to be?” She smiled. “Ofttimes that can be two very different things.”

Jodi drank in the clean air and the truth of Maryanna’s words.

“God has a plan for each of us—I believe that.” Maryanna tilted her head, eyes sparkling. “Maybe you were led here for an important reason.”

Jodi had definitely considered that, as well. “To fill in for Rosaleen, perhaps?”

Maryanna shook her head. “Not necessarily.” She stopped moving altogether. “Walkin’ the soil of God’s green earth is what I’m talking about, for one. All of
this
…” And here Maryanna stretched out her hand at the expanse of land, smiling up at the sunlight. “Honestly, there’s an atmosphere of healing here in Hickory Hollow—many a soul passing through has said as much.”

“Fueled by the prayerful attitude of the People, maybe?”

Maryanna smiled. “I think so, jah.”

“Prayer’s a real struggle for me,” Jodi admitted.

“But it hasn’t always been, right?”

Jodi shook her head.

“Well, God’s not limited by our wants and wishes,” Maryanna stated. “Isn’t our faith in Him more important than what we demand in our prayers?”

Jodi was taken by her fervor.

Maryanna went on. “I’ve learned that sometimes I have to give up my right to know and simply believe that God’s knowing is enough. Not that I don’t want to question. Ach, I surely do. But in the three years since Benuel’s death, I’ve learned that peace comes with that kind of givin’ up … and, not to boast, but my faith has grown because of it, too.”

Jodi knew she’d hit on something. “I never would have admitted it before coming here, but I’ve missed talking to God all these months. But …” She fought back tears.

“I’m sure you did.” Maryanna reached out and touched her arm.

They continued to stroll along, farther away from Ned and Sadie’s big barn. Anything Jodi might try to say or explain to Maryanna about her anger dried up in her throat. Anyway, it
would make absolutely no sense to this prayerful, God-honoring woman.

Ned Peachey appeared relieved when Jodi agreed to take on the temporary teaching position. “I’ll appreciate all the help your community is offering to get me up to speed,” she said. “Thank you for putting your trust in me.”

Ned nodded and said Rosaleen would be in touch.

Later, prior to Jodi’s leaving with Maryanna and the children, Sadie Peachey offered sewing patterns for a basic long skirt and modest blouse, as well as several pieces of plain blue fabric.

“You may hire a seamstress to sew your clothes, if you’d like,” Sadie told her.

Jodi had almost wondered if she was expected to sew her own outfits, but on the ride home Maryanna said she thought her mother, Emmie, could get them sewn up in no time.

That’s a relief,
thought Jodi, ready to dive instead into her crash course on Amish curriculum.