Category Archives: Thankfulness

Newlywed Love (#24)

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January 24-25, 1970

I had to hand it to Dad. Although he was born in 1899 and was two whole generations older than his children, he made every effort to understand them.

DadDad and I had a rocky relation- ship during my dating years, mostly about curfews and my choice of suitors. (It’s a wonder he didn’t kick me out of the house.) But beneath all that friction, I loved my father deeply and knew beyond all doubt he loved me, too. If I had a problem, I went to him first. Mom was always busy packing 48 hours of activity into 24, so slowing her down long enough for a serious talk wasn’t easy.

 

Dad, however, seemed to have time. If I presented a problem and asked his opinion, he didn’t shoot from the hip but gave careful thought to his answer. Even during the years when I was his problem child, he never brought up past skirmishes or held them against me.

And Dad never made sweeping judgments or labeled me – as “an irresponsible person” or “someone unable to make good decisions,” even when those things were true. And he never once pointed out the difficulty I was causing him. No matter what happened between us, he faithfully hoped for the best about me.

When Nate and I needed a second car (and need was the operative word), he wholeheartedly volunteered to help…. not just with the shopping but with finances, too.

A loving fatherHe believed in the value of education and was proud of his new son-in-law for pursuing a law degree, despite Nate’s temporary inability to provide financially for his wife. And Dad saw that facilitating a second car would be both an encouragement and a help.

After my Friday evaluation day at McKinley School, I packed a small bag, and Nate took me to the train station. Not satisfied with just waving goodbye, he came on the train with me, making sure I was seated in a safe place and then lifting my bag to the high rack. It was hard for both of us to say goodbye, but the delicious kisses helped.

The Illinois Central took me from Champaign to Chicago, and the subway from the Loop to the city’s northern border. From there I took the “L” train to Wilmette, where Dad was waiting at the end of the line. We walked into the house around 11:00 PM and found Mom happily preparing root beer floats to go with her cheerful welcome.

While enjoying our treat, Dad and I circled several used car ads in the Yellow Pages and mapped out a route for the next day. And when my head hit the pillow, my thoughts were of convertibles and four-on-the-floor.

The following morning Dad and I set off in a blizzard with high hopes. And sure enough, after slogging through heavy slush and brushing snow off scores of cars to see them better, we chose one:

Mustang.An all-black 1965 Mustang with red leather interior! (example, right)

 

 

It was 5 years old but had low miles, and both Dad and I were pleased. I knew Nate would like its classy good looks, and my driving buddies would be happy not to have any more carpool emergencies — like when it was my turn to drive but Nate needed his car.

I couldn’t wait to show my husband! It wasn’t a convertible like my first two cars, but it definitely had some “cool.”

“Seek [the Lord’s] will in all you do, and he will show you which path to take.” (Proverbs 3:6)

Newlywed Love (#23)

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January 23, 1970

Nate and I were both energized over the prospect of getting the second car we needed, and I looked forward to seeing my folks. Talking at length about what I should look for when Dad and I went shopping, we agreed it should be something economical but with a little “cool”…. if possible.

Before that exciting weekend, however, I had to meet with Principal Scarce about my teacher evaluation. The day he had visited my classroom, the children had been full of zip, talking over each other and refusing to act in orderly ways. I watched him write things down and wondered if those were marks against me.

Pencil

There had been a skirmish in the cloakroom that day, and Mr. Scarce had volunteered to settle it. By “settle it” he meant bring the guilty parties to me. In 10 seconds he appeared with a firm grip on the shoulders of two boys. Waiting for me to dish out the discipline, he frowned when I told the boys we would talk about it after the principal’s visit.

As Mr. Scarce sat in the back of the room, I saw my students (and myself) through different eyes – highly critical ones. Why was I so loosey-goosey? Why wasn’t I a better disciplinarian? I beat myself up for not having taught them to take turns better and to sit quietly when I was talking. And why hadn’t I made a seating chart rather than letting the kids sit anywhere?

But his classroom visit was a done deal now.

Evaluation (front).As I arrived at his office, he told me he’d judged me on 20 different points and then summarized it with a numerical grade, 1-5 — 1 being superior, 5 being poor. I decided the best approach during the conference would be for me to say as little as possible.

We sat down with his grading sheet, and I was relieved to see he’d circled quite a few number 1’s. I did get a 3, though, indicating I wasn’t “punctual and regular in the performance of duty.” That may have been because Linda, Judy, and I often came racing into school at the last minute, thanks to our long commute and unpredictable snowstorms.

He also thought I could use tests and test results better and become more familiar with my students through their cumulative records. I didn’t think first graders had had much time to accumulate records, but I nodded and said nothing. As for a seating chart, I came out ahead on that one. He left the line blank.

Evaluation (back)He also said I wasn’t the greatest at cooperating with attempts to adjust curriculum through experimentation. What he didn’t know was that every day was an experiment. My students were lucky to be learning anything from such an inexperienced teacher. Tempted to make that joke, I bit my lip and stayed quiet.

When Mr. Scarce flipped over the evaluation page, he read me what he’d written: “Mrs. Nyman is doing a fine job in her assignment. Pupil growth is evident. She maintains a classroom that is an exciting place to be. Her pupils are eager to learn and they are progressing well.”

And then he pointed to his summary grade. “I gave you a 1,” he said. I could have hugged him.

It was a pleasure to sign the form, and I was grateful.

“…. in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” (Galatians 6:9)

Newlywed Love (#21)

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January 19, 1970

The University of Illinois was on the quarter system. That meant students didn’t finish their studies and exams before Christmas break but had to face them when classes resumed after the holidays.

Tom, Dad, TypewriterThe university had just begun allowing students to bring portable typewriters to the exams for essay questions, but we no longer owned one. My college typewriter had traveled to the East Coast with brother Tom, where he was using it (right) for the same purpose at American University.

But Nate’s parents came to his rescue, sending money to buy another typewriter. We were both appreciative, and it would be a big help through the rest of law school.

Nate had returned to intensive study when I’d returned to teaching, and his exams had now come and gone. He felt like he did alright, though he said the tests were complex and extremely difficult. (That’s what A-students always said.)

About this time we got a crazy letter from Mom. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought she’d been sipping sangria. At a minimum she was in a goofy mood when she typed.

She began by letting us know it was Monday and then said, Isn’t it great to be ALIVE? That should have been our first clue.

Mom's zany letter

Her salutation was good, even excellent – Our dear children – proving she had completely embraced Nate as her own. I was thrilled about that. And she went on:

We trust and have prayed that our young lawyer has survived his ordeal of testing. Regardless of his scores, he definitely scores high with us. We realize his sincere desire to do his best, and this he has done. Our congratulations to this good son-in-love. Relax a bit, Nate; there will be more pressures. It is Charles Percy who welcomes problems because he says it helps him grow. So who wants to grow?

Hmmm. And she continued:

Last night during the evening service [as the organist], I played “Stranger in Paradise” for the offertory, and Pastor Sweeting had a few jollies out of it. Even the audience got into the act to laugh, etc. On Sunday nights Bervin and Mary sit with your father’s old wife, so we all were in stitches. And I just let Pastor Sweeting enjoy himself.

I pictured Mom at that massive organ shaking with laughter as she played with her church-hat askew.

She seemed proud of her “crime” but was just getting warmed up:

Last week we invited two older ladies over for dinner. But then the guest list swelled to include another family and two more women. Good thing I had a 12 pound leg of lamb that had to be used, since it had already thawed. Got it? Get it! It felt good to throw my leg into the oven. See how mundane a homemaker’s life becomes when she can get word-happy about a leg of lamb?

By the way, your high school friend Linda has a new baby boy. So does her husband.

And there was more:

The folks.Your father’s retirement is going along well. Bless the boy. He’s an easy guy to have underfoot, and I love him dearly! He manages to get down to the office once or twice a week, despite his full retirement. And me? I’m re-treaded.

Her letter was a script for a stand-up routine that lasted through two single-spaced typed pages. Nate and I wondered, if not alcohol, then what? Whatever it was, it had produced a fountain of good cheer that had bubbled up and out of her.

She signed her letter thus:

The Bible says “to depart is far better.” So…. so long. And keep warm! Mom

All I could do was thank God for such a happy parent and hope she could stay out of trouble.

“For the happy heart, life is a continual feast.” (Proverbs 15:15)