Balancing the tray on her hip, she opened the door to the schoolhouse and stepped inside. Joshua turned and waved before he resumed working with another scholar. Several other children smiled and waved shyly but they, like Joshua, returned to their work without needing a reminder from Leah, the teacher.
"I thought I'd come a little early to see if you could use some help," Hannah said as Leah walked over to greet her.
"I knew you would. I can't tell you how grateful I am for all the time you volunteer here."
Hannah glanced around the room. Nothing had changed since she'd attended this very schul. She'd sat at that desk over there by the west window, done her sums and written sentences on the blackboard, and heated her sandwich on the radiator as they all did in the winter. She'd celebrated birthdays here, performed in little plays with the other scholars, and fallen in love with Samuel Lapp. She had been in seventh grade; he, in eighth.
Unfortunately, Samuel hadn't known she existed even though he sat just two rows away.
Leah held out her hands. "Let me set this down for you.What kind did you make?"
"Half yellow, half chocolate. I put in two chocolate cupcakes just for you."
Leah's eyes lit up. "You know me so well."
Hannah laughed. "I should. You always bargained with me for anything chocolate if I brought it in my lunch." She glanced around. "What can I do?"
"Daniel and Jacob could use some help with their addition and subtraction lesson."
Hannah walked over to the table where Daniel and Jacob were hunched over their tablets. "Can I help you with your addition and subtraction?"
"Could we have a cupcake first?" Daniel responded, his grin full of charm.
She shook her head and tried to look stern. "Not until it's time. And besides, Joshua's mamm and daedi aren't here yet."
Jacob looked up at her and frowned. "Jenny isn't his real mamm. She died."
Daniel smacked his arm. "Hannah knows that. Don't be a schtummer! Jenny's his new mamm."
"I'm not a dummy!" Jacob said. He hit Daniel on the arm, and the two glared at each other.
"That's enough," Hannah said. "Time to get to work or the two of you will sit here while the rest of us eat cupcakes."
Groaning, they hunched over their lesson again. Hannah hid her smile while she watched Daniel, tongue caught between his teeth, worry over a problem. When he held up the paper and showed her his answer, she nodded with approval.
The door opened and Jenny walked in. Hannah watched as her schwei made her way across the room. Sometimes she still couldn't believe that this glowing, healthy woman was the same one who'd come home a pale, shattered version of herself just two years ago. Now, only those who knew what Jenny had been through could detect the slight limp in her walk and the small scar that lingered on her face, evidence of the injuries she'd suffered.
But everyone could see how she radiated happiness and could feel the aura of peace that surrounded her. Some of it came, Hannah knew, from Jenny working so hard to overcome her injuries. Some of it came from her deepening faith and her love of the Plain community into which she'd been accepted.And some of it came from the man she'd married—Hannah's widowed bruder, Matthew.
Praise God for that. Matthew had changed for the better after he and Jenny had married.
Hannah remembered how Jenny had once asked her what she looked for in a man. Had she made up a wish list? Jenny had wanted to know. Hannah, having never heard of such a thing, shook her head and laughed a little at the thought.
But Hannah had no interest in any of the men here in Paradise, and she'd started to wonder whether she would ever marry and start a family of her own. She feared that she'd become en alt maedel—an old maid.
Hannah joked with this sister of her heart that the man who would become her husband would just have to show up if she were ever to become a wife and mother.
Now, as Hannah glanced around at all the sweet faces of the children who surrounded her, she felt a small pang. If she wanted kinner of her own—and she realized more and more these days that she did—maybe she would have to settle for one of the men who'd tried to court her.
No one was home.
Chris couldn't believe it. He'd come all this way and no one was home. Why hadn't he thought this could happen?
But he'd figured that life on a farm kept you mostly on the farm. That had been his experience growing up on one. He hadn't gotten away from it except to go to school—time he'd begrudged. What did he need algebra for anyway? Would it help him to run a farm? Simple math, geometry—okay, he might need those. But algebra? And English? He spoke it just fine, thank you very much. Agricultural and 4-H classes after school—now that was different. He could use those for his future, he'd told the guidance counselor.