Free A Merry Heart by Wanda E. Brunstetter Page A

words in her sentence. “You’re welcome.”
    Back at her own desk, Miriam found herself watching Mary Ellen instead of grading the morning spelling papers lying before her. The child never looked terribly unkempt, but her hair always showed telltale signs of not being secured tightly enough in the bun at the back of her head. Her face was always scrubbed squeaky clean, which came as no surpriseto Miriam after watching Amos wash the child’s face that one Sunday morning in Sarah’s kitchen.
    Miriam shook her head, bringing her thoughts back to the present. She had no desire to think about that day or to be reminded of the things Amos had said to her. Regardless of everyone’s denial, she was convinced that Amos’s interest in her was purely selfish. A mother for his little girl was what he wanted most. Though Mary Ellen was a dear child and Miriam did have a soft spot for her, it was certainly not enough reason to marry or even to allow the girl’s father to court her. A woman should be in love with the man she planned to marry, and that possibility seemed seriously doubtful for her.
    Mary Ellen looked up and offered a warm, heart-melting smile, and Miriam found herself fighting the urge to rush across the room and hold the child in her arms. For one brief moment, she wanted to tell Mary Ellen that she would marry her daed and be her new mamm—that she would love her and take care of her needs. Instead, she turned her attention back to the spelling papers.
What was I thinking? The idea of me marrying Amos is just plain
narrisch—
crazy. I don’t love him, and he certainly doesn’t love me
.
    Miriam knew her students always looked forward to lunchtime, but she dreaded pulling the rope for the noon bell, because she would no doubt be caught up in a stampede as they made a mad dash for their brightly colored lunch buckets. Today was no exception, and she fumed as soon as she pulled the bell and was nearly knocked over by one of the older boys.
    “Slow down at once,” she scolded. “There’s no need foryou to rush like that.”
    Kenneth Freisen grunted an apology, grabbed his lunch box, and walked slowly back to his seat.
    It took only five minutes for the children to gobble down their lunches and scamper outside to play for the remaining twenty-five minutes of lunch break. Games of baseball, Drop the Hankie, and hopscotch could be seen being played around the school playground, while some of Miriam’s scholars took turns on the swings and teeter-totters.
    Miriam stood at the window, watching the children and wondering if the ache she felt between her temples would turn into another one of her pounding migraine headaches. The day was only half over, and already she felt physically and emotionally drained. At moments like this, she wondered if teaching was really her intended calling in life. She often ran out of patience, and when she felt as she did today, she wondered if her mother could be right about her needing to find a husband and get married.
    What am I thinking?
she chided herself.
Even if I did want to get married, which I don’t, I’m not in love with anyone, and I’ll never marry without love or trust—both of which I don’t feel for Amos
. She shrugged, deciding that her mood was only because it was the first day of school. In a few days when everything became routine again, she would be glad she was teaching school.
    When a ruckus broke out in the school yard, Miriam’s thoughts came to a halt. She heard laughing and shouting, and when she went to the door, she saw several of the children standing in a circle.
    Miriam hurried outside. “What’s the trouble?” she askedKenneth Freisen, who stood nearby.
    “The girls were blabbing again.”
    Miriam pulled two of the girls aside. That was when she noticed Mary Ellen standing in the middle of the circle. Tears streamed down the child’s flushed cheeks, and she sniffed between shaky sobs.
    “Mary Ellen, what is it?”
    “It. . .it’s all