happen, so why not find the good?”
“You chose not to join the church.” Rachel’s voice sharpened. “We agreed years ago you wouldn’t try to turn me
English
as well.”
“I’m not! Please, Rachel, let’s not quarrel.”
Ella decided now would be a good time to slip out and walk out to the mailbox on the road. Lindy and Rachel had been best friends all their lives. Whatever they had to work out between themselves, they would do it without an audience. Normally Ella would walk briskly out to the road. Today she took her time, and when she returned she would resume hanging the wet laundry.
The mailbox contained only one letter, addressed to Jedediah Hilty with a return address showing the school district’s office on Main Street in Seabury.
Gideon sent Gertie back out to play in the yard and set the envelope in his lap as he listened to the continuing discussion among the men. He had hoped that gathering the men to talk would guide them all to a decision of one mind and heart. Instead, the reasons for and against complying with the school district’s ruling splintered the conversation. Gideon felt the tension hardening like bits of concrete spattered on a wall. The bumps might never be smoothed again.
Each time Gideon glanced down at his lap, the return address on the letter taunted with more insistence. As Chester Mast and Cristof Byler went back and forth, Gideon fingered the edge of the envelope. With one thumb, he tested the seal and found it loose. Raising his eyes to watch John Hershberger’s face as he again lamented the undesirable influences the Amish children would face, Gideon slid a finger under the flap and slowly pulled out two sheets of paper, one a letter and one a form.
The voices faded away as he read the words on the page.
“Gideon.”
He looked up to see James with eyes full of questions.
“Is this a letter that pertains to our discussion?”
Gideon gave a slow nod. “I imagine each of you will find one in your mailbox.”
“Then perhaps you should read it to us now,” Isaiah said.
Gideon licked his bottom lip and held the page in front of him.
“Just read it,” Aaron King urged.
Gideon should have exercised the self-discipline to leave the envelope unopened until the men had left his home. He needed time to think. They had come to no helpful conclusion on what to do about the consolidated grade school. The instructions in this letter would slash all hope of reaching a peaceful agreement.
“Gideon,” James urged.
Gideon cleared his voice.
“Dear Mr. Wittmer,
“This letter reminds us all of the decision of the State of Ohio to establish a compulsory age for education. State law requires students to remain in school until they have reached the age of sixteen. It is our hope that this will encourage more of our young people to complete the requirements for a high school diploma, which will in turn equip them for meaningful employment and successful lives as productive citizens.
“You are receiving this letter because our records show that you have a child or children who may meet the academic requirements of entering the ninth grade or above, or because our records regarding the ages of your children may be incomplete.
“The enclosed form should be used for enrolling your son or daughter in Seabury High School. Please return the completed form at your earliest convenience. Previous school records will be used to determine ages, assess achievement, and make sure of compliance with state law. Students transferring from the recently closed school may be asked to take an examination before final grade placement.
“We look forward to providing your child with a strong educational foundation.
“Yours truly,
“Ulysses R. Brownley, Superintendent.”
The silence lasted only as long as it took for Gideon to fold the letter along its creases. Then the room exploded around him.
Ella walked past the laundry basket one more time. The letter looked too substantial to
“You chose not to join the church.” Rachel’s voice sharpened. “We agreed years ago you wouldn’t try to turn me
English
as well.”
“I’m not! Please, Rachel, let’s not quarrel.”
Ella decided now would be a good time to slip out and walk out to the mailbox on the road. Lindy and Rachel had been best friends all their lives. Whatever they had to work out between themselves, they would do it without an audience. Normally Ella would walk briskly out to the road. Today she took her time, and when she returned she would resume hanging the wet laundry.
The mailbox contained only one letter, addressed to Jedediah Hilty with a return address showing the school district’s office on Main Street in Seabury.
Gideon sent Gertie back out to play in the yard and set the envelope in his lap as he listened to the continuing discussion among the men. He had hoped that gathering the men to talk would guide them all to a decision of one mind and heart. Instead, the reasons for and against complying with the school district’s ruling splintered the conversation. Gideon felt the tension hardening like bits of concrete spattered on a wall. The bumps might never be smoothed again.
Each time Gideon glanced down at his lap, the return address on the letter taunted with more insistence. As Chester Mast and Cristof Byler went back and forth, Gideon fingered the edge of the envelope. With one thumb, he tested the seal and found it loose. Raising his eyes to watch John Hershberger’s face as he again lamented the undesirable influences the Amish children would face, Gideon slid a finger under the flap and slowly pulled out two sheets of paper, one a letter and one a form.
The voices faded away as he read the words on the page.
“Gideon.”
He looked up to see James with eyes full of questions.
“Is this a letter that pertains to our discussion?”
Gideon gave a slow nod. “I imagine each of you will find one in your mailbox.”
“Then perhaps you should read it to us now,” Isaiah said.
Gideon licked his bottom lip and held the page in front of him.
“Just read it,” Aaron King urged.
Gideon should have exercised the self-discipline to leave the envelope unopened until the men had left his home. He needed time to think. They had come to no helpful conclusion on what to do about the consolidated grade school. The instructions in this letter would slash all hope of reaching a peaceful agreement.
“Gideon,” James urged.
Gideon cleared his voice.
“Dear Mr. Wittmer,
“This letter reminds us all of the decision of the State of Ohio to establish a compulsory age for education. State law requires students to remain in school until they have reached the age of sixteen. It is our hope that this will encourage more of our young people to complete the requirements for a high school diploma, which will in turn equip them for meaningful employment and successful lives as productive citizens.
“You are receiving this letter because our records show that you have a child or children who may meet the academic requirements of entering the ninth grade or above, or because our records regarding the ages of your children may be incomplete.
“The enclosed form should be used for enrolling your son or daughter in Seabury High School. Please return the completed form at your earliest convenience. Previous school records will be used to determine ages, assess achievement, and make sure of compliance with state law. Students transferring from the recently closed school may be asked to take an examination before final grade placement.
“We look forward to providing your child with a strong educational foundation.
“Yours truly,
“Ulysses R. Brownley, Superintendent.”
The silence lasted only as long as it took for Gideon to fold the letter along its creases. Then the room exploded around him.
Ella walked past the laundry basket one more time. The letter looked too substantial to
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