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fair—only time would tell what was in my future, and theirs.
    As usual, Mr. Ludwig had taken his post outside his office door. He greeted each of the children by name as they passed him on the way to their classrooms. I wasn’t certain if the morning ritual was a test of his memory or if he thought it bolstered the children’s self-esteem. After the first few weeks, I’d expected him to cease the practice, but there had been no sign he intended to quit.
    â€œGood morning, Miss Rhoder. How are you this fine day?”
    â€œFine, Mr. Ludwig.” I slowed my step as I approached and stopped beside him. “If you have a moment, I’d like to speak with you in private.”
    His jaw twitched at the prospect of changing his daily habit, but he ushered me inside. “Is there a problem?”
    Knowing he wanted to return to his regular post, I quickly explained this would be my final week at the school. “I do hope you can locate someone to replace me. Perhaps an ad in the newspaper might prove beneficial.”
    He shook his head. “I don’t think a newspaper advertisement would succeed in bringing a volunteer teacher to our doors. We will have to wait for God’s provision.”
    I wanted to tell him that sometimes God expects us to take action while we wait but decided such a comment might do more harm than good. “Then I will pray for Him to provide the perfect teacher.”
    Seemingly pleased with my answer, Mr. Ludwig nodded and hurried back to his post outside the doorway. Sorrow weighed heavy on my shoulders as I trudged toward my classroom. Nettie Wilson skipped toward me, her wispy blond hair flying in all directions.
    â€œAre we having story time today, Miss Jancey—I mean, Miss Rhoder?” She flashed a worried look toward Mr. Ludwig.
    â€œYes, but not until later this afternoon.” Telling the children during story time might help soften the blow. At least that was my hope.
    We walked hand-in-hand to the classroom, where the other children had already gathered and were shuffling to their seats. For the remainder of the morning and early afternoon, I did my best to conduct classes in my usual manner. If the children noticed my inability to concentrate or to display my customary enthusiasm, they didn’t comment. After they returned indoors from their afternoon playtime, I pulled my chair to the middle of the room and motioned for them to form a semicircle around the chair.
    â€œWe’re going to end the day with story time today because I have a very special tale that I want to tell you.”
    Caroline’s hand shot into the air. “Is it a story we’ve heard before, Miss Rhoder?”
    I smiled and shook my head. “No, it isn’t.”
    â€œIs it from a book, or is it one you’re making up in your head?” Matthew Turner didn’t bother to raise his hand before asking, but I didn’t reprimand him.
    â€œThis isn’t from a book.” As I looked into their expectantfaces, I burned this moment into my memory. I didn’t want to forget any one of these children. Each one had become precious to me. Hot tears burned my eyes, and I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket.
    â€œWhy are you crying, Miss Rhoder?” Bertie wiggled forward, her lips quivering with concern.
    â€œI think there’s something in my eye.” I didn’t tell Bertie it was tears. That wouldn’t help matters in the least.
    After inhaling slowly, I folded my hands in my lap and glanced around the room. “Many years ago, a young man and woman fell in love with each other and decided they wanted to get married.”
    â€œ Eww . Is this going to be a love story?” Matthew curled his lips and wrinkled his freckled nose.
    I chuckled. “I won’t talk about kissing. Does that help, Matthew?” He bobbed his head and grinned.
    â€œAs I was saying, this young couple decided to get married. They first lived in