Free Janette Oke by Laurel Oke Logan

the smaller children, but once Janette was hurt enough to cause tears to flow. It was her first year at school, and one of the “big” boys—perhaps in third or fourth grade—came to comfort her. He then offered to take her down on his sled in order to protect her—and instantly became her hero.
    The road down the hill could be quite a rutted, muddy mess at the time of the spring thaw or if rains had been plentiful. The ruts would sometimes get so deep that the teams or cars coming up or going down would need to find an alternate route. There were few choices. It was too steep to go straight up and too narrow a track to swing very wide. The water washing down the hill often made deep furrows across the dirt road and the clay soil would turn to gumbo. If the road became too difficult to maneuver, only saddle horses and people on foot used the hill until things dried out again.
    The Steeves children were largely unaffected by the road situation since they usually walked to school. The two and one-half miles in one direction could be fairly pleasant on a good day, but if it rained it was miserable. With no special rain gear they would arrive at school or return home soaked to the skin.
    Since they were also without rubber boots, the worst muddy roads were conquered by simply slipping off their shoes and walking barefoot. Otherwise they did their best to clean their shoes in the damp grass and then let them dry by the kitchen stove before scraping them clean again.
    In the winter the walk seemed longer. The frigid air bit against exposed skin on the face or where gartered stockings had slipped down to reveal bare legs. Colds and tonsillitis kept the children at home much of the time. The teacher spent a good portion of her busy day beside the old potbellied stove, drying out those who remained healthy enough to attend.
    Janette was often the one left sick at home. Childhood illnesses seemed to catch her first, and she would pass them on to the other members of the family. During her early years she experienced whooping cough, mumps, measles, chicken pox, scarlet fever with an aftereffect of inflammatory rheumatism, recurring bouts of tonsillitis, and many, many colds.
    The report cards she brought home were filled with days marked “absent,” sometimes absences outnumbering days present. But she did learn and was, in fact, the star of her grade. Of course it helped that her competition consisted of only one other boy. But the young teacher seemed to be quite proud of Janette’s progress. In fact, in spite of missing so much, she finished grade one and took half of grade two her first year, then completed grade two and grade three in her second year.
    Periodically, the school inspector would visit the school. When he came, he would stand at the back of the room, his tall, broad body encased in a dark suit, much more formal than the students were used to seeing. His head would be cocked slightly to one side, his hands clasped behind him, and his whole body teetering ever so slightly up on his toes, then down, up again, then down.
    The inspector was neither harsh nor critical, but his presence was frightening just the same. His large frame and air of authority nearly made the children tremble; even the teacher seemed nervous whenever he showed up.
    Thinking that Janette would be a fine example of her teaching ability, the young teacher asked her to stand and read aloud for the awesome man. Fear clouded Janette’s thinking, and instead of “showing off” she stammered and stuttered through a miserable job of reading.
    When his car was at last heard chugging away down the winding, rutted hill, everyone heaved a big sigh of relief—the teacher’s sigh perhaps bigger than anyone’s. Yet she could not refrain from speaking of her “disappointment” to her star pupil. Not only was Janette shamed by her embarrassing performance but also filled with remorse at letting her