First Day
Monday morning came at last. It seemed like the weekend had worn on for more than twenty-four hours each day. Even though Hope had been busy, preparing her lessons, exploring the town more, and getting to know the folks at church, she had felt as if time were dragging on and that the first day of school would never arrive.
She was up before the sun, taking care of her morning toiletry needs, and dressed in her nicest teaching outfit—a white shirtwaist and black skirt. Her daddy said it was a nice mix of strictness and encouragement, the black and white representing the good and evil of the world. She laughed when he’d said it, but she thought it must’ve stuck in her mind because she wore it often. She’d also donned her most comfortable pair of ankle boots and put her hair up tightly so it would be out of her way. Today was an important day. After all, the first impression these children and their parents received of their new teacher would set the tone for the rest of the school year and potentially many more years to come.
Nita was up already when Hope came down to the kitchen. She was preparing oatmeal for her mother-in-law, her eyes still bleary with sleep. “Well, don’t you look nice,” Mrs. Howard said before yawning loudly. “Them kids sure will be happy to have such a perty teacher.”
“Well, thank you,” Hope replied, not bothering to say being pretty had nothing to do with it, but she knew a compliment when she heard it. “Would you mind if I made myself a quick breakfast before I head out?”
“No, a’course not, but if you wait a minute, I’ll be happy to do it fer you. Just gotta take this up to Ma.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind,” Hope insisted, taking up a pan. As soon as Nita was done with the oatmeal, she stepped into her place and went about scrambling a few eggs and frying up a few pieces of bacon. There was plenty left for Nita to cook for Mr. Howard, and she was certain he would eat a good helping of it.
Nita had returned by the time Hope sat down at the table, and she used the same frying pan to start on Mr. Howard’s breakfast. Hope wondered if he wouldn’t have to get up earlier than usual if he were to eat it warm. The sun wasn’t even up yet.
“You must be excited,” the older woman remarked. “Betcha can’t wait to meet the rest of your students.”
“I am,” Hope agreed. “I’ve already met about half of them, I think, between church yesterday and my walk around town. But I am eager to meet the others and see what sort of skills they already have.”
Mrs. Howard chuckled in her throat. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, honey, but they ain’t likely to have many at all.”
Hope didn’t think that was true. The children she’d already met seemed intelligent enough for the most part. Surely, if their parents had been working with them at all, they would at least know the basics, such as the alphabet, maybe even how to read a few easily recognizable words, like the, am, my, me, etc. She was optimistic. “I suppose we’ll find out shortly,” she said with a smile as she scooped up the last bite of eggs.
“What will you do about lunch?”
“Oh, my lunchbox!” Hope had left it upstairs. She’d been so excited, she hadn’t even thought about packing a lunch. Taking her plate to the washbasin, she began to rinse it off, but Mrs. Howard nudged her out of the way, and Hope ran back upstairs to fetch her trusty lunchbox.
When she returned, Mrs. Howard was wrapping wax paper around what appeared to be a ham and cheese sandwich on homemade sliced bread. “I’ve got apples and a few cookies, if that will do?”
“Mrs. Howard, that’s so nice of you!” Hope exclaimed, feeling right at home. Many times, if she was excited or in a hurry, her mother would make her lunch for her. “Thank you so much!”
“It’s nothing, honey.” Mrs. Howard wrapped the cookies up as well, and Hope placed the items inside her lunchbox. She took out her thermos and filled it with water from the pump outside, thinking it should stay cool for most of the day. She hadn’t noticed if there was a pump at the school, but she had seen a well, so that should do, assuming they’d thought to rig up a bucket. The idea that the children might fall in the well crossed her mind, but she assumed most of them had grown up with the structures and knew better than to act foolishly around them.
“Is there anything else?” Nita asked as Hope came back indoors, bringing her out of her own head.
Hope looked around, thinking about her typical day at school. She had no books to take with her, and there would be none waiting for her either. She wished she had the supplies Mr. Stewart had promised, but she’d just have to make do. She did have a few notes she’d made for herself folded and tucked inside the pocket of her skirt. “I can’t think of anything.”
“All right. I’m sorry Mr. Howard isn’t up to give you a ride on your first day, but he’s more of a night owl than a morning person.”
Hope had gathered that already. “It’s fine. The morning air will do me good.”
Nita nodded, and then, resting the spatula she’d been using to cook breakfast on the counter near the hearth, she wrapped her arms around Hope. “Good luck today, honey. Those kids sure are fortunate to have you.”
The gesture caught her off guard, but Hope was pleasantly surprised that the woman she’d thought looked so stern just a few days ago had already proven she had a gentle side. “Thank you, Mrs. Howard.” Hope hugged her back and then collected her lunchbox. With a deep breath, she set off out the door.
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