A Time to Bloom (Leah's Garden #2)(67)
“And you’re one to throw aspersions, Ellen Dwyer,” Maybelle Young put in. “I hear tell your eldest son was seen comin’ out of that tent last Saturday night.”
“Well, I never—”
“Ladies, please,” Del broke in. “I’m sure what we all want is to find ways to keep this saloon—for such it is, even if it’s in a tent—from causing further harm to our families or community. Does anyone have any ideas as to how we might do that?”
Silence, and then Rebecca Weber put up her hand. “My mother used to belong to a women’s temperance society when I was a little girl. Perhaps we might get some ideas from what they did.”
“That’s right.” Lark nodded. “Our mother was part of one too. Most societies stopped meeting during the war or switched to focusing on abolition or helping soldiers. But we could certainly glean from their experience.”
“Much of what they did was education, wasn’t it?” Lilac put in.
“Yes.” A prickle of excitement straightened Del’s shoulders. “Maybe we could hold a rally on the dangers of alcohol, perhaps right here at the church.”
Lilac nodded. “Dr. Adam could speak on the health side of things.”
“Would the church really be the best place?” asked Mrs. Caldwell. “It’s lovely for us, but if we want to reach folks most vulnerable to liquor, we might consider holding it outside. Perhaps have food and music—make it an event people will want to attend.”
“Mrs. Caldwell, you are ever wise.” Lark jotted in her notebook, making Del glad they could split the labor like this. She’d nowhere near the capacity to both lead and try to take notes, especially with these women proving harder to corral than her entire classroom of lively youngsters.
“We should ask Reverend Pritchard to lend his support too, maybe speak at the event as well.” Lilac again.
Ideas continued to fly, from obtaining literature on the evils of alcohol—a step approved by a majority—to demonstrating its demeaning effects by getting a pig drunk as part of the entertainment—a notion soundly shot down.
“Well, I believe that’s sufficient to get us started.” Del drew a breath. “Mrs. Caldwell, would you speak to your husband about where we might obtain some temperance literature? And, Forsythia, you’ll confer with Adam about giving a talk?”
Forsythia, who had arrived late due to something with her children, nodded from the back, where she stood bouncing a tired Mikael in her arms.
“And Larkspur or I will talk to Reverend Pritchard.” Preferably Lark. Del glanced around the room. “While you are all gathered here, I also wanted to speak to you about our need for a schoolhouse.”
“Isn’t this your schoolhouse at present? What’s wrong with it?” Mrs. Dwyer appeared determined to keep her tongue as sharp as her nose today.
Del bit the inside of her cheek. “Yes, the church is serving adequately for now. But I believe your children deserve a dedicated schoolhouse to replace the one destroyed by the tornado. One where we can settle and make it our own, not have to constantly shift around, setting up and tearing down.” Why was this something she always had to argue for? “If our town can raise a train station in a matter of weeks, and now soon complete a boardinghouse, why not a school? Or is the education of our young people lowest on our list of what matters?”
“Hear, hear” came a hearty reply from the front row.
Del glanced in surprise to see Mrs. Jorgensen nodding in approval. She scanned the group, meeting the eyes of each mother there. “I know your sons and daughters, and I love them. I love teaching them, discovering the riches of the past and the glories of God’s creation with them, seeing the world afresh through their eyes. I want a schoolhouse where they can have the space to flourish, to cover the walls with maps and charts and their own creative work. But I can’t make it happen alone, and I can’t seem to make it happen by appealing to the men of this town. And so I come to you. Will you help me?”
Everything was quiet for a moment, and then applause started from the front corner where Lark sat. Gradually, it spread through the gathering. Heads nodded, approving.
Del’s face heated. “Thank you. But what I really need are ideas. How can we get this school built?”
Mrs. Caldwell lifted a hand again. “What about a school raising? We’ve had barn raisings often enough. If we got everyone together, surely we could raise a schoolhouse in a couple of days.”
“You really think so?” Del glanced at the other ladies. “We’d need supplies as well as the labor for building.”
“Don’t we still have some money from the Thanksgiving fundraiser last fall?” Lilac asked. “Surely that could cover buying lumber, at least.”
“And if it doesn’t, I’m sure Mr. Caldwell would agree to help donate the rest.” Beatrice gave a firm nod. “He believes in education for the future of this state—or he will, when I remind him trains alone won’t build a nation.”
Scattered chuckles.
“I’m sure Edgar and I could help with supplies too, nails and window frames and such.” Lucretia Jorgensen shifted her heavy shoulders. “We’ve grandchildren in the school, after all.”
“And our husbands and sons will certainly pitch in for the building, am I right?” Rebecca Weber glanced around, humor in her eyes. “If they still want three square meals a day and their washing done, that is.”