With the honking of the Canada geese and the autumn dance of the leaves in the blustery winds, we knew fall was here. The berry patches had been stripped of all of their fruit. We had either canned the berries or else dried them in the sun.
Wynn was working a little closer to the settlement now, and I was up in time to prepare his breakfast each morning before he went to another day’s work.
The welcome day arrived when Nimmie moved from the cramped cabin to her new home. I insisted on the enjoyable task of caring for Nonita while Nimmie settled in with the nesting instinct of a mother robin. When I reluctantly returned the precious little bundle, Nimmie chirped and twittered to her little nestling and Nonita smiled and gurgled back.
I often noticed the Indian men studying the sky. Even the women, as they walked to the nearby woods for their daily wood supply for their fires, glanced heavenward as though the skies held many answers to the days that lay ahead.
I wanted to keep the Indian summer forever. I was not happy about the thought of being shut in again by the swirling snow and the howling winds. I was sure Wynn was not looking forward to the difficult days of winter either, but he made no comment.
Kip’s fur grew thicker and fluffier and I knew the wild animals, too, were wearing a warmer coat against the cold that was to come. I no longer heard the birds fighting over the scraps of produce left in my garden. Most of them had already migrated south.
And then one morning when I rose from my warm bed, I noticed a chill about the house, even though Wynn had already started the fire in the stove. My glance went to the window and I saw the snow gently sifting down. If I had not been dreading it so, I would have most surely thought it to be beautiful. It fell in large, soft flakes, and as it floated gently on the slight wind, it looked like fluffy down. After my time in the North, I knew better, so I did not stop to enjoy the sight. Instead, I went into Wynn’s office to draw some consolation from him.
“It’s snowing,” I informed him as soon as I reached his door.
He looked up from the dog harness he was mending and nodded.
“It’s only October,” I complained, as though Wynn should know better than to let it snow so early.
“I know,” he answered. “It likely won’t last for long.”
I knew he was trying to reassure me. I also knew that some years the snow did come to stay even in October. I hoped this wouldn’t be one of those years.
I looked at what Wynn was doing. The dog harnesses were only used when there was snow on the ground.
He noticed my accusing gaze.
“Didn’t have anything else that needed doing this morning,” he explained defensively, “so I thought I might as well get an early start on this.”
I nodded and changed the subject. “I’ll have breakfast in a few minutes,” I said, and turned back to the little kitchen area and the singing kettle.
The snow fell all that day, and the next and the next. We won’t be seeing the last of it for some time, I groaned silently.
I was feeling close to despair when there was a knock on my door. Nimmie came in, shaking the snow from her bare head and the blankets covering Nonita.
I was surprised to see her, but I shouldn’t have been. A little thing like a few inches of snow would not have kept Nimmie home.
“I have some good news,” she said, even before she unwrapped the baby and removed her coat.
She didn’t wait for me to ask but went on, “Remember I said that Ian had to pay a visit to the main village?”
I nodded, reaching for the squirming Nonita.
“Well, he’s back. I asked him to check with the chief about us starting a school. He did, and the chief just shrugged his shoulders and said that if we wanted to teach the children letters, it was up to us, just as long as we didn’t interfere with their rightful duties. We can go ahead, Elizabeth; we can start our classes! Now that winter seems to be here the children will be free to attend for a few hours each day.”
We could go ahead and start our school! So the snow had brought some good. I looked out the window as my heart thanked God for the welcome news.
I turned back to Nimmie, the small Nonita still in my arms. “Oh, Nimmie!” I exclaimed, “we have so much to do to get ready! So much planning. Where will we hold it and—?”
Nimmie laughed and reclaimed her baby. “Slow down, Elizabeth,” she said; “we’ll get it all worked out.”
I made the tea and Nimmie sat down at my table. We got pencils and paper and began to work through every part of our plan.
I would do the actual teaching. Nimmie would be my helper and interpreter as needed. We planned to pool our resources for classroom supplies. Ian could send out for some pencils and scribblers for the students’ use. He had another wagon train due in soon with the winter supplies for the settlement. The carrier was leaving in two days with the additions to Ian’s supply list, so our needs would have to be figured out and presented to Ian very quickly.
My mind could hardly work in the excitement. Another of my prayers had been answered: We would get our school.