Newlywed Love (#108)

Posted on November 11, 2017 by Margaret

October 11-14, 1970

Our J.O.Y. Sunday school class was growing. Apparently word was getting around that we had lively discussions, and curiosity was bringing people in.

This week Martin shook things up again with his debating. Nate was a good debater, too, having been the captain of his high school team, and I found myself keeping score — first in my head and eventually on paper.

The class was never dull, and Pastor Ralph made sure to faithfully interject Scripture. But something about the argumentative mood didn’t seem right for Sunday school. After class Nate said, “I want to talk to Ralph for a minute, OK?”

As we drove home, he told me he and Ralph had concluded that what Martin really needed was loving acceptance, not counter-arguments. Apparently he wasn’t a Christian, and Ralph was concerned he not be driven away from the church by verbal sparring. He hoped Nate and the others would work to keep things calmer. No more trying to “win.”

I felt like a bratty kid in the car when I said, “Yes, but he started it!”

Gradually, though, I came to understand the situation as Ralph (and Nate) did, and we decided to act better in class – and even pray for Martin when we thought of it. We were living and learning.

On Monday, Columbus Day, I was disappointed not to be heading back to my Danville kids, but we had the day off. After missing Friday with poison sumac, I was looking better and wanted to explain my absence, proving it with the leftover rash. My students would love the whole story.

When Tuesday finally came and I did return, they fawned over me like I was a celebrity, each talking over the others to share their weekend stories. One little girl jumped up and down saying, “I feel good today, because mommy said I don’t have to wear an undershirt anymore!” As she was pulling her dress up to show us, we quickly moved to the next story.

One of the boys, having had a family outing over the weekend said, “I found out what you do to pumpkin seeds.”

“What ‘s that?” I said.

“You plant a whole bunch in a little pile, and that will get you an apple tree!”

The girl next to him nodded. “I already know that,” she said, “because I did it once.”

Another boy said, “I saw where my dad works.”

“What does he do?” I said.

“The dirty work.”

I laughed, knowing the real truth was that kindergarten teachers had all the fun.

To add to the gaiety of our reunion, I’d brought Nate’s and my Super 8 movie camera to school, a wedding gift from Mary and Bevin. During recess we created a mountain of leaves, and I recorded the kids jumping and leaping into the pile.

Both the morning and afternoon groups starred in their own movie, and I told them that once it was developed, we’d get permission to show it on the big Cannon School screen.

Their great delight was also mine. Five year olds were just the best.

Jesus prayed, “Father, Lord of heaven and earth …you have hidden things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children… This is what you were pleased to do.” (Luke 10:21)

Newlywed Love (#105)

Posted on November 8, 2017 by Margaret

October 3-5, 1970

On Saturday morning we invited my old carpool buddy Linda and her husband Ron over for an early breakfast. We hadn’t connected since the summer and wanted to swap stories of how things were going in our new schools.

It was an especially cold morning, so Nate built a fire to make our get-together special. I scrambled eggs and made toast while the coffee percolated, and everything was ready when they walked in the door.

The four of us shared lively conversation around the table until mid-morning, and Linda commiserated with me over my ongoing 80 mile round-trip to Danville each day. Her new commute was about 3 miles.

But we reminisced about how very special that year at McKinley School had been when Judy, Linda, and I were all newlyweds and new teachers together – a unique time in our lives. Progress would continue to separate us, but we hoped we would always remain friends, even if only long distance.

After they left, Nate and I decided to steal a couple of hours from his heavy study schedule to visit our favorite place – Allerton Park. The leaves were turning, and I was especially enamored with the red sumac and its velvety, crimson cones. After picking an arm-load of branches and collecting a bag-full of the cones, I couldn’t wait to decorate our classroom for the season.

Nate gathered pine cones for an art project that would happen closer to Christmas. Then, once our work was done, we spent some quality time together on a blanket drinking coffee and munching on red licorice.

When we got home, I spread out my autumn collection on the table and thought about the many creative suggestions my students were sure to offer about how to use it all.

The next day, Sunday, included another lively discussion in the young couples’ group. Our class name was J.O.Y. — Jesus, others, and you — but lately it lacked joy and was more like a debate competition. Martin wasn’t there, but another young husband, Warren, took his place.

He didn’t criticize the pastor but made a fool of himself with senseless arguing. Once again Nate jumped in, and I felt sorry for Pastor Ralph as he tried to wrangle the discussion back on topic.

After church and Sunday school, Nate and I followed our usual Sunday routine: eggs for brunch, the Chicago Sunday Tribune spread all over the bed, and then a nap.

I told Nate I was glad our first home wasn’t in either of our home towns. That way we didn’t get swept into the weekend schedules of all the relatives but held more tightly to each other – a good way to start a marriage.

“He lets me rest in green meadows. He leads me beside peaceful streams.” (Psalm 23:2)

Newlywed Love (#104)

Posted on November 7, 2017 by Margaret

October 1-2, 1970

Indian Summer was over, and the first frost had blanketed Champaign. We were delighted to be using our fireplace again and often ate dinner in front of it.

Both of us were glad we hadn’t succumbed to the summertime temptation to move. I had wanted to exchange our fireplace for Country Fair’s swimming pool, but now their pool was closed after just 3 months – and we would get to enjoy cozy fires for the next 6 months.

We continued our evening walks (dressed in jackets and shoes now) while talking about the many decisions we would soon have to make. When our lease ran out in August of 1971, we’d be moving… but where? Which city? What address? And would Nate be a civilian, or would the Army own him? If the Army, where would he be stationed? Which state? Or… the worst question mark of all… would he be sent to Vietnam?

If he wasn’t on active duty, might he be working at a law job? And just to be prepared for this possibility, when should he take the Bar Exam? Would he pass it on the first try? And if not, where would he work before being able to re-take the exam? And where would I be working? Without certification and with provisional openings now eliminated, what would I be doing?

Nate and I would lie awake in bed long into the night pondering these questions. But no matter how we guessed what might happen, not one question had a firm answer. The process was exhausting, and though we knew God would eventually replace every question mark with a period, the not-knowing was wearing.

Finally, we decided the best approach would be to dwell on whatever had been decided – the things without question marks.

Our faith in Christ came first and was strong. We were being spiritually nourished at our church and enjoyed a mentor-type relationship with Pastor Ralph and his wife Lottie. We had supportive, loving families on both sides and a bright future. And with friends galore, our calendar was full of happy get-togethers.

As we talked quietly in the safety and comfort of each other’s arms, we counted our marriage as one of the very best things without a question mark. Our newlywed year was almost over, and through the months we had become more and more attached, never bored or frustrated. Actually, there were many days when we just couldn’t get enough of each other.

Both of us felt free to be ourselves with no need to play any relationship games, which made for a stress-free marriage and a happy home. Though the list of questions loomed large and sometimes seemed to threaten, as we drifted off to sleep their influence almost always faded — having given way to the rock-solid affirmations that didn’t have any question marks at all — and never would.