"Yes, Headmistress" (part 8)

(Previous posts from this series):

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7

Part 8

These two sweet things were safe and sound, and in the capable hands of Miss Lunn. She said they were the first Americans at this primary school in ten years. So they would be unique; interesting; divergent. Right? I couldn't wait to find out!

First day of school

I walked home through the most enchanting fall morning. A delightful beginning! There would be time to unpack boxes and gather groceries and bake an apple pie. We would all celebrate our first day in grand style. 

   (The Darlings)

Instead of purchasing apples, I remembered the apple trees scattered among the gravestones just steps away, behind the ancient church. To get there I walked through our back yard, where rose bushes crowded along a long stone wall. This wall and these roses were the best spot in the garden. They would be magnificent in spring. How could I be so blessed?

The wall was perhaps two feet high, so it was easy just to step over and find oneself in the churchyard. I was in no hurry now. A sweet silence beckoned me to mosey and to read the ancient gravestones surrounding me. The names were old and traditional - Jeremiah, Martha, Ruth, James - as were the dates, going back to the 1700's and earlier. I had never been in a graveyard this old. 

The apples I found were perfect for pie making, and I carried 5 of them back through the churchyard. There was a reason I was eager to bake in this new place of ours: it had an AGA cooker! I had never heard of an AGA cooker, but soon remembered the connection between the AGA and Rosamunde Pilcher books. The AGA figured very importantly in all of her novels, for many of her heroines did their cooking with one. How charming to be included! 

I walked back to the school, just in time to find out how my two had survived. A group of mothers and small children stood waiting, and I noticed the dark and lively mother of the adorable four. This lady was all smiles and laughter, and she greeted me right away. "I remember you from this morning! Are you the new Americans?"

I don't remember our exact conversation, but during it I was warmly welcomed and certainly accepted. In a few minutes the children began spilling out the entrance, and what did we see? One of her daughters was walking with my own. We both laughed. Could it be? Friends.

It was time to go, but before we parted I said, "...and what is your name?"

Her youngest was pulling her ahead, "Come on, mum!" but she turned, laughing and calling out, "Rosie!"

Rosie. It was perfect. There was something about that name that exactly fit.

See you along the way!

the SconeLady