My Dearest Naomi Read Online Free PDF Page A

Joan’s mom, Katie, said she can’t be two places at once. It looks like a lot of people are using the Helmuth place for weddings this year, but it’s understandable with their large house and equally large pole barn next door.
    Don now says he might take someone to the table at the evening hymn singing, if he’s not the only boy his age to do so. I told him to do it anyway, but no, he said he won’t. I think he’s being stubborn, and when thetime comes, he’ll give in and take some girl to the table for the thrill of it, if nothing else. I suppose the Mennonites don’t have the practice of pairing up all the young people for the hymn singing on a wedding night. You remember how the pressure is. Which gives me another reason for wanting to be out there right now.
    Well, I should at least get this room in order before I go to work, so more writing in a little bit.
At my cleaning job…
    I retrieved the mail before I went to work, and there was this beautiful card in the mailbox. Oh, thank you so much, and that was a wonderful little poem in the first letter. It means more to me than I can say.
    I’m sitting here at the Bachs, finished with the cleaning of the house, but Mrs. Bach is still not back from the health spa in Salem, so I have to wait for another hour. That is, if she keeps to her usual schedule. It’s five o’clock now, and John, her husband, is sitting in the recliner drinking Pepsi. I don’t know if I ever told you, but John can hardly get around anymore. He’s not in a wheelchair yet, but close to it. And Mrs. Bach wants someone with him all the time.
    Every time I come he asks, “How’s your boyfriend?” He asks all kinds of questions about you—and the same ones over and over, as he’s quite forgetful. I was sitting here a bit ago, staring into space, and he said, “That’s all right, go ahead and write it down.” He loves to tease. Today he asked me how many times I’ve said “I love you” in this letter. I didn’t answer, so he said, “The whole page, huh?”
    Maybe you have an idea how my Wednesdays go. By the way, I do love you.
    Last night one of Mom’s Englisha friends, Elena Marshall, was here. She talked to me secretly. She wants to bake a cake for Mom and Dad’s anniversary on the fifteenth. It’s their twentieth, and I was glad because I’d been thinking we should do something.
    Well, I have to go. I’ll write all about the wedding. Until then, take care of yourself.
Wednesday evening...
    “Rejoicing in hope; patient in tribulation; continuing instant in prayer” (Romans 12:12).
    I was going to wait until tomorrow night after the wedding to write to you, but I was sitting here lonesome for you so I decided I’d write some tonight. I don’t feel very cheerful about going to Richard and Joan’s wedding. If only you could be here, it would make all the difference. So much for being “patient in tribulation.”
    How is school going? If you have time or want to sometime, send me the pupils’ names and the grades they are in. Please describe each one and his or her traits. That is, if you know them well enough. I think this would be very interesting.
    The weather was warmer here today, eighty-two degrees and beautiful. If it’s this nice tomorrow, Richard and Joan will have a perfect day for their wedding. They must have made some changes in the plans because the ceremony will now be at Joan’s place. And after that everyone will walk down to the Helmuth home for dinner. The evening hymn sing will also be at the Helmuths. Mom has to be at the Helmuth place tomorrow morning at eight. She will stay all day because she’s one of the cooks.
    My aunt Hannah, who lives in northern Indiana, wrote today and shared more bad news about her daughter, Jessica, who is in rumspringa . I’m so glad our group of young people around here aren’t into wild stuff. Jessica goes to town and sits at a bar about every evening. Every time I think about her it makes me sad. We’ll have to