His Amish Teacher. Patricia Davids
not productive members of the greater world. I teach English because it is the language of our neighbors and of our commerce. A man cannot sell milk or goods if he doesn’t understand what his customer is saying. I teach German because we use the Bible written in that language just as our ancestors did in our church services. My students also learn about health and basic science, although not all Amish schools are as progressive as we are. Each school board decides what is important and what is to be taught. In some areas of education, you may find us lacking, but we do what is best for our children and our way of life.
“I certainly didn’t learn a new language in grade school.”
Lillian realized how puffed up she must sound and turned to face Debra. “And I am guilty of pride. Please forgive me for lecturing you.”
“As I have said before, I enjoy learning new things. Thank you for the lesson and you are forgiven if you will forgive my ignorance and not take offense at my many questions.”
“That is a deal. We Amish are free to read and study ways to improve our lives as long as they do not go against the teaching of our church. We believe higher education puts our children at risk of exposure to worldly behaviors that we do not condone.”
“But what about doctors and nurses? Don’t the Amish want their own people in such professions?”
“There is a need for doctors and nurses, we don’t deny that. We are grateful for the men and women who seek to serve mankind in such a fashion, but the core of our faith is that we must be separate from the world. In it, but not a part of it. We must forsake all self-interest and humbly submit to the authority of the church. To us, this is the only way to be righteous in the sight of God. Any display of pride is a sin. If we take pride in being Amish, that, too, is a sin.”
“I respect your right to believe as you wish, but I can’t say that I understand it.”
Lillian smiled. “I won’t hold that against you.”
She had never met anyone as forthright as Debra. The two previous health workers who had come to the school had been all business and not talkative in the least.
The sound of childish chatter outside signaled the arrival of her first students. Most were able to walk to the school, but a few were delivered to her doorstep in buggies driven by their parents or older siblings.
Debra glanced at the clock on the wall. It was five minutes until eight. “I need a quiet place for the hearing tests later today. Where do you suggest?”
“The cloakroom, or we have a basement if you’d like to see it.”
“I think the cloakroom will work.”
Lillian helped Debra move an unused desk and chair into the room. Outside, the sounds of children at play grew louder. The swings and the merry-go-round were favorite places for the students to play before school started.
Debra moved to the window. “They were so quiet yesterday, but they sound loud and rambunctious now. Maybe I should use the basement.”
“Noise won’t be a problem.” Lillian went to the front steps.
Hannah ran up to her. “Teacher, Mamm brought me to school in our new pony cart. Isn’t it pretty? That’s our new pony. His name is Hank.”
Lillian looked toward the road. Mary Bowman waved from the seat of a small two-wheeled wooden cart painted sky blue. A small black pony with a snip of white on his nose tossed his thick black mane. Lillian returned Mary’s wave and turned to Hannah. “It’s a very nice cart, and he looks like a fine pony.”
“I made these for you.” Hannah thrust a shoe box toward Lillian.
“How kind. What can it be?” Lillian’s heart expanded with joy as she lifted the box to her ear and shook it. The rattle and aroma of gingersnaps gave her a hint. She peeked inside the lid. “Did you make these all by yourself? They look scrumptious.”
“Grossmammi Ana helped me.”
Lillian laid the box aside. “Please thank your grandmother Ana for me.”
“We have something for you, too.” Karen and Carla Beachy, third-grade twins, came up beside Hannah. They had each drawn a picture of their favorite cow named Willow. Lillian took the pictures and admired them. “These are lovely. I shall put them on the wall for everyone to enjoy.”
“Guder mariye, Teacher.” Carl Mast rushed up with a big grin.
“It is a beautiful morning.” This was truly her favorite part of the day. More of her children greeted her and shared the news from home and she realized once again how truly blessed she was.
She rang the bell. Her students who were still playing outside immediately stopped what they were doing and filed quietly into the schoolhouse. They came in, put away their lunches and took their seats. Even Abe and Gabriel were quiet this morning.
Lillian stood in front of her desk. “Good morning, scholars.”
“Good morning, Teacher,” they said in unison.
“As you can see, Nurse Merrick has returned to finish your health screenings. You are to go with her when it is your turn.”
Lillian moved to the blackboard that covered the front wall of the school and wrote out the date and the arithmetic assignments for each of the classes. When she finished, she picked up her Bible. Each day she chose a passage to read from the Old or the New Testament. This morning she chose 2 Corinthians 6. After the reading, her students rose, clasped their hands together and repeated the Lord’s Prayer in unison.
Lillian picked up her copy of Unpartheyisches Gesang-Buch, their German songbook, from the corner of her desk. Singing was a normal part of each school day. Without being told, the children filed to the front of the room and lined up in their assigned places. She chose two English songs out of respect to their guest and one German hymn. Gabriel, the best singer in the school, began the hymn. The other children’s voices rose together in unison as they sang without musical accompaniment. When the songs were finished, they all returned to their seats.
Susan Yoder began handing out readers to the three lower grades. The older students took out their arithmetic workbooks. All the children knew what was expected of them, and they did it without instructions. After Susan finished handing out the readers, she went with Debra to translate for the youngest ones being tested.
By ten o’clock, it was time for recess. Debra emerged from the cloakroom as the children surged around her to hurry outside. She came to the open door, where Lillian stood watching her charges. “I have to say that I’m amazed by how well behaved your students are. I hope every school I visit will be this cooperative.”
Lillian smiled at her. “Every Amish school will be.”
By early afternoon, the day had become hot enough that Lillian opened a window near her desk. A gust of breeze blew in and carried the arid smell of smoke into the schoolroom. Lillian looked up from the paper she was grading and glanced outside. A large cornfield stood across the road from the school. The tall pale tan stalks hadn’t yet been harvested and their dry leaves crackled in the brisk wind. She saw a thin column of smoke rising from the far end of the field near the river.
Frowning, she rose from her chair and moved toward the front door. Had Mr. Hanson decided to burn his trash today? The country was under an open burning ban because of the drought, but not everyone complied with the rule.
On the porch, Lillian shaded her eyes and looked south. Mr. Hanson’s cornfield curved around the building on three sides like a wide horseshoe. A swirl of wind picked up fallen leaves from beneath the trees by the road and added them to the large pile that had accumulated beside the porch. Unease crept up Lillian’s spine.
The school, situated on a small hillock, was backed by a taller rise with a thick stand of woods that ended in a sheer bluff above the river. To the north, a high wooded ridge separated the school from the collection of farms beyond that were also located inside the bend of the river. The road in front of the school