Then Came Heaven Read Online Free PDF Page A

and begin our afternoon lessons with a prayer.”
    Michael Poplinski jabbed his buddy Jimmy Lucas on his way down the aisle, feinted to avoid the retaliatory punch, then put on a burst of speed and skidded to a halt beside his desk. Sister waited with her hands folded while the shuffling subsided and the room grew quiet.
    “In the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost...” Thirty-five children made the sign of the cross with her and began the afternoon as they always did, with a prayer. When it ended, they took their seats with a sound like a flock of geese landing, while Sister walked around her desk to face them. She was a tall, thin woman with pale skin and kind hazel eyes. Her eyebrows were the light brown of summer cornsilk and her lips as prettily curved as the top of an apple. Even when she was displeased, her expression never grew grim, nor did her lips lose their forgiving lift. When she spoke, her voice was filled with patience and quietude.
    “Third-graders, you’re going to work on your spelling.” Her two rows of third-graders occupied the right half of the room nearest the south windows. Every girl wore a dress. Some of the boys wore overalls with striped T-shirts, others wore corduroy pants and cowboy shirts. “The list of words is on the blackboard, and I want you to write them once on a paper of your own—has everyone got a tablet?” Fourteen children tipped sideways to search for their tablets. “Tear off one page, please.” Fourteen sheets were ripped off fourteen tablets before the children tipped sideways again and stuffed their tablets away. Finally it was quiet and Sister Regina continued. “After you’ve written the whole list of words, use them again to fill in the blanks on this worksheet.” She passed out the worksheets and got the third-graders busy, then went to the left side of the room to work with the fourth-graders on their arithmetic tables. She had brought a basket of oranges into the room to demonstrate addition and subtraction: three oranges plus two oranges equals five oranges. She gathered her twenty-one fourth-graders around her desk so they could all see the oranges and the corresponding flash cards.
    At close range, it was obvious that the children had played hard in the hot sun at noon recess. The smell of their sweaty heads reminded her of the dogs they used to have on the farm who would follow her dad and brothers through the snow when they went to feed the stock, then come back inside and lie on the kitchen floor by the wood-stove to warm and dry.
    Still lecturing, Sister Regina maneuvered herself to the bank of south windows and raised three of them, letting the fresh air waft in, then pulled down the green roller shades above. The bright autumn afternoon light continued streaming in below the shades as she returned to her desk, where the arithmetic lesson continued.
    She was still there shuffling oranges when someone knocked on the door. The interruption signaled a swell of chatter, and she shushed the children as she moved to answer.
    In the hall Father Kuzdek stood with Eddie Olczak.
    “Good afternoon, Father. Good afternoon, Mr. Olczak.” She could tell immediately something was terribly wrong.
    “Sister, I’m sorry to interrupt your class,” Father said. “Could you shut the door please?” Father was recognizably distraught and Eddie had been crying. When the door closed Father said, “We’ve brought some very bad news, Sister. There’s been a horrible accident. Eddie’s wife was killed by a train this morning.”
    Sister Regina gasped softly and her hand flew to her lips. “Oh no.” She made the sign of the cross, then broke a cardinal rule by touching a layman. “Oh, Mr. Olczak,” she whispered, laying a hand on his sleeve, “I’m so sorry.” Horror had sent her heart clubbing at the thought of those two little girls in the classroom behind her and this hardworking and gentle man with whom they were all so familiar. Why