Chapter Twenty-one

"The teacher is the one who gets the most out of the lessons,
and the true teacher is the learner."
~Elbert Hubbard

Mid-morning at school found Ann sitting at Elizabeth's desk as the students completed their Math assignment. She looked up to check on the students and saw Albert and Caleb were whispering. She slowly stood and, seeing her move their way, the boys stopped and returned to their work. She walked behind them, leaned down, and whispered, "Gentleman, I told you before there would be no talking or whispering while doing your assignment. You'll sit apart to eat your lunch today."

Albert closed his eyes, clearly disappointed as Caleb's eyes flashed with anger. "That's not fair," he protested loudly, startling the rest of the students from their assignments. He crossed his arms and pouted.

"Return to your lessons, scholars," Ann instructed the other students. Some followed her direction, but most only pretended to as they surreptitiously continued to watch. She turned to Caleb and, in a low voice, told him, "Life is not fair. Now, if you choose to continue to misbehave then you can spend the entire lunch period inside. It's your choice." She stood up straight and headed back to her desk.

"Mrs. Thornton?" Rachel called as Ann passed her table. Ann turned to her and Rachel said, "This is the time Miss Thatcher usually works with Sarah."

"I'm sorry, what?" Ann asked.

"Miss Thatcher usually helps Sarah with her writing practice around this time of the morning," Rachel explained.

"And who is Sarah?" Ann asked.

"Me!" Sarah yelled from the table closest to Elizabeth's desk. Again, the entire class was distracted from their assignment. "Can you and me write some letters and numbers?" she asked Ann.

"Why do you have a separate penmanship lesson?" Ann asked.

Sarah's eyes widened. "Pen mansion what?" she asked, confused,

"Ma'am?" Rachel sought Ann's attention. When Ann looked her way, she whispered, "It's because Sarah has a hard time writing. Her Ma said it's because her muscles didn't get strong after she was born."

Ann looked at Sarah, who gazed back at her expectantly. Ann finally walked to Sarah and told her, "Okay, then you practice writing on your slate."

Sarah vigorously shook her head. "No, ma'am," she informed Ann," Miss Thatcher always sits with me and has me write using a big ol' pencil."

Ann studied Sarah for a moment. "Well... umm...do you have that pencil?" she asked.

Sarah nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Sure do!" she said very loudly as she proudly held up her jumbo pencil.

Some of the older boys snickered, prompting Ann to give them a look that clearly told them to get back to their task. They did so.

"Okay," Ann said, turning back to Sarah, "now practice writing your name."

Sarah shook her head. "No, ma'am," she said.

"Why not?" Ann asked, surprised by Sarah's rebuff.

"Don't know how to spell it," Sarah answered.

Ann sighed before she leaned over and asked Sarah, "'May I?"

Sarah said, "Okay," and handed the pencil to Ann. Ann wrote "S-a-r-a-h" on the paper. Then, she handed the pencil back to Sarah.

"Now, you write it. Write those letters," Ann instructed.

Sarah nodded and put her pencil to the paper. Ann watched as Sarah attempted to form the letters. The S looked like a capital I and it covered roughly half the page from top to bottom. She tried to make the lower case a, but it looked more like an e. Ann exhaled with mild frustration and pulled a chair over next to Sarah at the table. Before sitting, she glanced around to be sure that rest of the class was on task. She spotted Albert and Caleb playing tic-tac-toe on a slate. She cleared her throat and they looked up at her. She shook her head. Caleb erased the slate and both boys turned back to their work.

Ann sat down and, again, took the pencil from Sarah. "Okay, let's try this again. Here's an a." Ann wrote an a on the paper. "Now, you try," she directed as she handed the pencil back to Sarah.

Sarah took the pencil and tried again to make an a. This time it looked like a very squiggly u. "How'd I do?" she asked Ann, smiling widely.

"You did well. I can tell you're trying," Ann said. Then, she pursed her lips and considered what to do next. After a moment, she grabbed another sheet of paper and the pencil. She began writing several a's on the paper. When she was almost to the bottom of the paper, she suddenly dropped the pencil and placed her hands in her lap.

Sarah looked at Ann, startled. Ann curled her mouth into a small smile and told Sarah, "I think that's enough. Now you trace the a's."

Sarah picked up the pencil and tried to trace the letters. Ann rose and started to move away. "No!" Sarah called.

Ann looked down at her, shocked. "Excuse me?" she asked.

"You can't leave me!" Sarah protested. "You have to sit with me and help me, just like Miss Thatcher," she told Ann emphatically.

"You just keep tracing and I'll be back to check on you," Ann assured her.

Sarah shook her head. "That's not how Miss Thatcher does it," she informed Ann. "She helps me."

Ann rubbed her hands together and fumbled for words for a couple of moments before she told Sarah, "Perhaps not but that is how we will do it." She turned on heel and headed back to Elizabeth's desk. She sat down and folded her hands together and slowly rubbed her thumbs together, studying Elizabeth's lesson plan book.

Sarah looked at the paper and looked up at Ann. She frowned and tears began to fill her eyes. As the tears began to fall down her cheeks, she began to sob. Rosaleen looked up and saw her friend crying. She moved from her chair and hugged Sarah, trying to console her. Instead, it seemed to make her cry harder. Her loud sobs roused the entire class from their work. Ann looked up to see all the students talking and many of the girls rushing to Sarah. "Ladies, please return to your seats," she directed.

"But Sarah is so upset, Mrs. Thornton!" Gem told Ann. "When she gets like this, Miss Thatcher usually has to take her out on the porch. Then, she calms down."

Ann folded her hands and brought them to her chin, clearly frustrated. She stood and walked to Sarah. "Girls, return to your seats. I'll take care of Sarah," she told them as she placed her hand on Sarah's arm. Sarah now had her head down on her arms and was sobbing loudly. "Come, Sarah," she told her.

Sarah looked up at Ann, still crying. Ann put her hands on Sarah's shoulders and guided her from the chair. Sarah continued to wail as Ann led her out of the saloon. Before they went through the doors, Ann called to the class, "Please continue to work, scholars. I will be right outside and can hear everything."

Ann directed Sarah to the bench on the saloon porch. They both sat. Sarah's crying subsided a bit and she turned to Ann. "Why you don't like me?" she asked Ann.

Ann's eyes flashed with shock and she shook her head. "Of course I like you, Sarah," she assured the girl.

"Then why won't you help me?" Sarah questioned.

Ann sighed. "I did help you," she reminded.

Sarah shook her head. "Not like Miss Thatcher."

Ann shook her had and closed her eyes. "I guess not," she told Sarah.

Sarah was no longer crying. "Miss Thatcher is the best teacher ever!" she proclaimed.

Ann nodded and told Sarah, "Okay, let's head back inside. Hopefully, Miss Thatcher will be back tomorrow and she'll help you with your writing better than I could."

"Yay!" Sarah cheered as they headed back into the saloon.