The year was 1936. Farrington community, ten miles from town, had a one room school house. This particular year there was only one little girl old enough to attend first grade. Her name was Jeannie. She was to become my best friend. She was eight yrs old. I was five. Not quite old enough to go, but the school board approached my parents and asked them to allow me to start early. Though I was young, I was eager, and so I began my education that fall.
Our teacher, Mrs. Lewellyn was a lovely woman with dark hair, a sweet voice, and a sunny disposition. All the children loved her. Each row of desks was a different grade, one through six. There was no one in the second grade but a couple of lively boys were in the third. It was all very exciting learning to do numbers, the alphabet, and writing. But the very best was the art table and the songs we learned and making new friends.
One cold winter morning heavy dark clouds began to roll in from the north and covered the bright blue skies. The wind began to howl around the school building and the bitter cold moved in. We were busy with our lessons and paid little attention, but Mrs. Lewellyn was aware of it and watched closely as conditions worsened.
When lunch time arrived she gathered up our lunch boxes and doled out half of what we had. By then ice and snow had begun to fall. We had our turn at running out to the outdoor privy and hurried back inside. The bigger boys helped her bring in wood for the fat bellied stove that sat in the center of the room near her desk. We watched as the snow began to build up on the window seals. To the children it looked like a winter wonderland. To our teacher it looked like trouble.
As the day progressed the snow deepened. Our teacher let us play games of I spy with her diamond ring and we gathered around the piano and sang songs. We thought it was worlds of fun but as evening came and the snow had piled around the building and the wind continued to howl and we could not see anything for the heavy snow it was frightening. I wanted to go home.
Mrs. Lewellyn got out our lunch boxes again and got down her tin of cookies that she saved for special occasions and made it seem like we were having a party. She had a teakettle on the stove and made us all tea and though it seemed a festive affair the desire to go home was uppermost in my mind.
Soon the lamps had to be lit and the cold from the big windows seeped into the room. We gathered around the stove to keep warm and she held me on her lap as she read stories to us. My heart ached and my stomach hurt and I wanted my Mama but I would not cry. I was not a sissy. I fell asleep and Mrs. Lewellyn wrapped me in my coat and placed me on the art table with my friend Jeannie.
We woke to a bright, white, still world. The snow had stopped. As far as we could see there was nothing but snow. Mrs. L. made us more tea and passed out some of her treasured cookies. Then one of the bigger boys looking out the window said he saw something moving down the road. We all rushed to see. It was just a black dot moving slowly toward us. As we watched we could see it was a tractor, soon we could see a man behind the wheel. He was all bundled up in a big coat and had a cap that covered his ears and a scarf over his face. He pulled up in front of the school building and tramped through the crusted snow to the front door. It wouldn’t open. A snow drift had it blocked.
The big boys inside pushed and the man outside pulled; it began to move a little. He scooped the frozen snow away but some fell inside as the door opened. Cold air swooped into the warm room. The man stepped inside slapping his cold hands together. Ice had formed on the scarf across his face from the moisture of his breath. He took off his gloves as his eyes swept the room, Reaching up he pulled the scarf from his face. “Daddy”... His arms opened wide and I leapt into them releasing the tears that I had held all night.
Soon other tractors came down the road and between my Daddy and the other fathers all the children were taken home. We were the last to leave the school that day. Mrs. Lewellyn locked up the door after she made sure the fire was banked and safe. She bundled up and Daddy took her down the road to her home with me riding on his lap. He had come after me and led the way through the drifts of snow and Ice. I was his little girl. He was my Hero. Always was, always will be.
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