Free Return to Harmony by Janette Oke

Moira’s cooking and were lit by a great bay window which looked out over Gavin’s vegetable garden and the fields beyond. The rectangular table Gavin had made with his own hands, his first gift to his new bride. The afternoon light caused the beeswax-polished wood to gleam with a ruddy glow.
    Bethan’s mind went back to the conversation she had heard in the hallway after school. She had waited until all the students had left to make her departure. That week the doctor had pronounced that her eye was not improving, and the only thing to do was for her to wear the eyepatch every day for two months. Bethan had been horrified, but the doctor had been insistent, repeating his solemn warning that the lazy eye might otherwise go blind. Her mother had then included her own voice with the doctor’s, and that was that. Bethan hated the eyepatch almost as much as she hated the way the others picked on her. So she arrived at school early and slipped through the halls alone unless Jodie was around. After school she waited until all the other voices disappeared into the distance before venturing out.
    As Bethan had walked down the lonely hallway, she had stopped at the sound of the two voices up ahead. It had been an argument, really, between Miss Charles and the teacher Bethan was most frightened by, Mrs. Sloane. She shared the same large frame as her daughter, Kirsten, and had a way of tightening down her face that made even the wildest of children quiet down in fear.
    Mrs. Sloane’s voice held a quiet fury that had backed Bethan around the corner and out of sight. “You’re doing nothing but building up the hopes of these poor village children so they can be destroyed.”
    “I most certainly am not the one intent on destruction,” Miss Charles replied, her voice tight. “Jodie Harland has every right to compete.”
    Jodie. They were arguing over her best friend. Bethan moved up to the side wall and edged as close to the corner as she dared.
    “She will disgrace herself and this school,” Mrs. Sloane lashed back. “Children from those big-city schools will make her look backward and us foolish for even considering putting her in the competition.”
    “Well, we should let her have the chance to change an illconceived perception,” Miss Charles responded. “She absolutely amazed the judges at the town spelling bee, not to mention winning here in our own school. One of the town judges even said she was a shoo-in for the state finals.”
    “I have been teaching these children far longer than you have been on this earth,” Mrs. Sloane snapped. “If my experience has taught me anything, it is that poor village children are not up to this sort of challenge. And I most certainly discount anything a local judge says about one of our own. As should you, if not for your sake, then for the sake of this poor child.”
    “And I am telling you that Jodie Harland is one of the most brilliant young ladies it has ever been my pleasure to teach,” Miss Charles replied, her voice shaking with anger. “As to the challenge, we shall never know for certain, will we, since you are refusing me the chance to use the school’s discretionary funds.”
    “Absolutely out of the question. Such a thought is simply absurd. The family is not destitute. If this were such a good idea, the father could certainly afford to pay for his own daughter to travel to Raleigh.”
    “We went all through this in the administration meeting. Parker Harland has been simply devastated by his wife’s death. He can scarcely remember his own name, much less see to the needs of his daughter.” Miss Charles’ voice took on a desperate note. “I beseech you, think of what this might mean to the child.”
    “That is exactly what I am doing,” Mrs. Sloane replied, her tone full of cold satisfaction. “I am guarding this child from a disappointment which might crush her fragile spirit.”
    “But—”
    “This matter is closed. Good day, Miss Charles.” Heavy