Church, Family and Education

HENCEFORTH A NEW ORDER would prevail in Russia. Christoph, however, had other worries. Now he was the father of four children. After Paul, the first, they had come along in quick order: two girls, then one more boy, all healthy and well turned out. And yet, of the four, Paul was the most outstanding. He showed promise to be taller than Christoph and had inherited the good looks of his mother. The fair complexion, dark blond hair and the oval shape of his face, which Karin had bestowed upon him, had combined well with the features of Christoph’s family.

Carolina Hergert taught Paul, along with the other children of the village. Besides raising her own children, a boy and a girl, she singlehandedly developed Norka’s school system. The villagers were a prolific lot, four to eight children, even ten per family, were the norm, and they needed schooling. To begin with, Carolina had to make do with untrained helpers. Teaching alone at first, the sheer numbers of children soon overwhelmed her.

She looked for suitable women who had time to teach during the winter months, training them carefully. She arranged salaries for the women through the council of elders. At first, teaching commenced in the church. All grades were taught in one large room, because there were no other communal buildings in the village. Patiently, purposefully and intelligently she guided the elders to address the needs of the children in ways affordable for the community.

On her walks every evening before church, she had spotted an empty parcel of ground. There were no unused places in the village; every inch of ground had been allocated. Yet here she found a sizable parcel, lending itself perfectly to the construction of a schoolhouse.

Intrigued, she inquired about the place and was told that, until recently, building supplies, rocks for the road and iron rods had been stored there. Carolina knew that she had to plant a seed into the mind of the council. The elders were a stubborn, thoughtful lot, liking those ideas best that arose among their equals.

Carolina had learned long ago that to gain entry into men’s minds was to sometimes find a roundabout way. Whenever she thought about this phenomenon she smiled, because the principle applied to Russians and Germans alike. When she taught the children of the Russian gentry, their parents had often resisted new ideas and Carolina learned to intrigue the nobles with the unusual, until they themselves asked for new methods to teach their offspring.

Carolina had always stayed close to Pastor Elias Hergert and his wife Anna. Even during her “Russian” years they visited back and forth. She knew that her relatives promoted and cultivated learning. Didn’t Elias always say, “Learning is important to spiritual growth”?

After thinking her plan through for a few days she decided to present it to her uncle Elias. Autumn had arrived in the Saratov District, and during her evening walks a light, brisk wind promised colder nights, making her walk smartly. She had chosen such a perfect dry and moonlit evening to visit her uncle. She knew that he had arrived only yesterday, back from his route of visits through the territory, where he performed services, baptisms, wedding ceremonies, and graveside services.

As she walked in the middle of the broad street, the center of the village, avoiding the piles deposited by horses working late, she marveled at Elias’ capacity for work, his never flagging spirit, the balm he spread upon minds often stressed to the breaking point. He had been promised by the Synod in Germany that he soon would be able to call upon the help of young clergy, setting out immediately for the Volga region.

In the meantime he represented the spiritual center for all the villages between the Medveditsa River, the Karamysh, and the Volga. Carolina had traveled with him in a horse cart a few times to places like Walter, Dönhof, Huck, Frank and Grimm. The latter, a village a bit farther away, held a community of over one thousand two hundred souls, close to the Bolshoy Karamysh. She came to admire her uncle Elias during these outings. With the most cheerful spirit he battled the rutted roads, broken wheels, and a time or two a wolf pack. Against the animals he carried a shotgun, provided by the citizens of Norka for his protection.

She arrived at the Pastor’s house, a home distinguished from others only by a beautiful, solid-oak double door, a cross carved on each side. This was Elias Hergert’s only concession to his status. He wanted the congregants coming to his house to know that they were warmly welcomed under the protection of the cross.

Anna bustled to the door, hearing Carolina’s knock. Her face brightened as she beheld her niece.

“Komm herein, komm rein, meine Liebe. Elias wird sich so freuen, dich zu sehen. Deacon Brunner is already here.”

She had taken Carolina’s hand into her own soft, warm hands and pulled her into the house. Having passed the front door, the visitor found herself in a large room, which represented the entry, the living room and eating area. To separate the zones of use Anna had constructed screens, cleverly made from birch wood frames over which she had stretched quilted fabrics made from leftover pieces of cloth.

She moved one of these “walls” slightly and beckoned Carolina to enter the shielded corner of the room. Deacon Brunner, a bit older than when Carolina had seen him last, jumped up from a hard-looking leather sofa to greet her. He still possessed the unfocused look of a dreamer, a dreamer hiding a sharp mind. Beside the sofa, in front of a simple table, stood a few handmade chairs whose usability Anna had greatly enhanced with large, brown soft cushions placed upon their seats. Anna seated Carolina upon one of these chairs, only to excuse herself immediately, bustling to her kitchen. No one visited Anna’s house without being welcomed with food and drink. Elias joined Carolina and the Deacon moments later, coming back from feeding his animals. Everyone, even the pastor, had a few chickens, pigs, a cow, and a horse in the stalls behind the house. These animals constituted an important necessity. Life would have been impossible without them.

Over coffee and Kuchen the four spoke happily about the new developments in the Saratov District. They mentioned the Kontora apprehensively, because officials of this body had announced a visit to the district before winter set in. The villages prepared assiduously for these visits. They cleaned the village, filled potholes and prepared the church where the official business would be conducted. They even went so far as to rake the street. They were proud of their village and its appearance. As they talked about these preparations, Albert Brunner groaned, because he would be greatly involved in the preparatory work.

The three recounted Norka’s births, deaths and newly arrived settlers. At that point Carolina gently steered the talk toward Norka’s children and a new school building.

“What do you think will bring about the building of a school house for Norka, Uncle? We need a building in which we can divide the children by age. The church is not adequate anymore for this task, don’t you think?” she asked rhetorically, for she knew the answer already.

“Yes, I have been thinking how we can accomplish this,” admitted her uncle. “The problem is where to place it? All of the land is allocated. We’d have to re-divide and re-allocate quite a few parcels.”

“What if I know of an empty building site?”

“Where?” asked the Deacon and the Pastor as one.

“You know the dumping place where gravel, building materials and odd things were stored? It is almost empty now. With some removal of leftover materials it would be ideal. It’s located almost in the middle of the village, so the children would not have far to walk.”

“Hmm.” Elias mulled the information over in his head. For a while the four people were sitting in companionable silence.

“What about building materials? At the moment the village is woefully short of timbers for such a large building.”

“We had a few good harvests. There is a little money in the communal fund. We could buy wood in Saratov from a timber merchant.”

“You obviously have given this a lot of thought, my child. I have a feeling you also want me to play a role in your plans.”

“Of course, Uncle. I do. And you, Deacon, I would like your help too. Would you take my dreams to the council of elders? Present it in such a way that they believe it is their own most-wished-for project?”

Carolina’s seeds fell on fertile ground. Both men strongly believed that the village needed a schoolhouse. They were immensely impressed with Carolina’s solid facts, which they could present to the council, and they promised her to work on the school’s behalf.

After thinking of ways to present Carolina’s plan, Pastor Elias used the next meeting of the elder council to address the issue. Coming straight to the point, he said, “You know, dear brothers, that this village needs a schoolhouse. We have many children in need to be schooled and only the church as a building large enough for the teaching. I want you to bow your heads in prayer with me and think of a suitable place where we might erect such a building.”

After about five minutes of intense silence and prayer he solicited answers and, amazing grace, two of the elders brought up the empty supply ground. Gently steering the group away from all other places mentioned, Elias encouraged discussion of the place of his preference.

Once more they prayed and thought of ways of acquiring building supplies. And again the elders performed beautifully. They knew just where some money could be found and where the timbers could be bought.

Once the elders had made up their minds, they followed through with action. The entire village came together, cleaning the supply ground of debris; a group purchased the necessary timbers and roofing, and the men put up the building in a few days. As it turned out, the hardest, most time-consuming part was the construction of the tile stoves for each classroom, because no one was knowledgeable in the art. In the end artisans from other villages were hired for the work.

And so it happened that, on a freezing cold, blustery day in November, the new schoolhouse, the best-looking, most imposing building after the church, was blessed and named Martin Luther School, while Carolina’s little choir sang the hymns of the high holy days.

That evening Carolina reverently touched the brick façade of her new school. With unspeakable joy she walked home in the dark, saying prayers of thanks.