Treasures from Grandma's Attic (3 page)

4

The Perfect Paper

“Why aren’t you eating your breakfast, Mabel?” Ma asked me. “Don’t you feel well?”

“I’m fine, Ma,” I replied. “Just nervous, I guess. We have a big arithmetic test today, and I’m afraid I’ll make foolish mistakes. I know how to do the problems, but it seems as though I always slip up somewhere. I just never notice until after the papers are graded.”

“Try not to be anxious about it,” Ma said. “Remember, ‘in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God shall keep your heart and mind through Christ Jesus.’ That’s in the fourth chapter of Philippians. We’ll pray about it, and I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

“Thanks, Ma. I’ll be especially careful, too. Just once I’d like to get ahead of Warren Carter. He thinks he’s so smart in arithmetic that no one can beat him.”

“I hope that’s not the only reason you want a good grade,” Ma said. “That’s hardly a worthy motive.”

“Oh, no,” I assured her. “That’s not the only reason.”
But it’s the main one,
I admitted to myself. “If I could just show Warren that a girl can do as well as he can, I’d be happy.”

On the way to school I told Sarah Jane, “I’m not going to make a single mistake on the test.”

“How can you be so sure?” she wanted to know. “Have you seen the answers?”

“Of course not. I haven’t even seen the problems. I just know. We prayed about it this morning. I can’t wait to see Warren’s face when I get a hundred percent.”

“Maybe the Lord will let you make a mistake to take you down a peg,” Sarah Jane suggested. “You’d be too proud if you got a perfect paper.”

“Thanks a lot,” I retorted. “I thought you were on my side.”

“Oh, I am,” Sarah Jane said. “I’m just reminding you that pride goes before a fall.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I declared. “If my conscience ever wears out, I’ll always have you.”

Sarah Jane smiled. “What are friends for? I just wish I had a chance to get a hundred on that test. I know I’ll make mistakes.”

The test was every bit as hard as I thought it would be. I worked slowly and carefully, and when Miss Gibson said we had just enough time to check our work, I went back over each problem. I was satisfied that I had made no errors when I turned in the paper.

“I’m glad that’s over,” Sarah Jane said as we ate lunch. “I’ll be happy with a passing grade.”

“Did you ask the Lord to help you?” I questioned her.

“You can’t ask the Lord to make you smarter than you are,” a voice said. We turned to find Warren Carter standing behind us. “Anyway, I don’t think God pays attention to things like schoolwork. He has more important matters to take care of.”

“There may be a few things you don’t know,” I told him. “Who do you think gave you your brains, anyway?”

“God did. And He expects me to use them, not come asking Him to pass a test for me. But I suppose girls need all the help they can get.” Warren walked away, leaving us to glare after him.

“Someday he’s going to fail something,” I predicted. “He’ll see how important it is to pray.”

“The wicked do prosper,” Sarah Jane said with a sigh. “He probably did as well on the test as you did, without praying about it. That will make him all the more unbearable. You should have thought to pray that he’d make a mistake.”

“Well, I did pray that I’d get a better grade than his,” I admitted. “I certainly studied hard enough to deserve it. He thinks he knows it all so well that he doesn’t have to work. He’s the one who needs to be taken down a peg.”

Sarah Jane nodded in agreement, and we went back to the room for afternoon classes.

When I got home after school, Ma was waiting for me with fresh cookies and milk. “How did it go?” she asked. “Do you think you did a good job?”

“It was hard,” I replied, “but I did my very best.”

“That’s all we expect of you,” Ma said. “No one needs to do better than that.”

“Ma, do you think God made boys smarter than girls?”

“No, I don’t. I’m sure there are some boys who are more intelligent than some girls, but it works the other way around too. I don’t think God favors boys over girls.”

“Warren Carter does. And he says you might as well not pray about a test, because God isn’t interested in that kind of thing.”

“That’s too bad,” Ma said. “I find it a comfort to believe that God cares about anything that affects His children. There’s nothing too small to pray about.”

I waited impatiently for Sarah Jane to reach our gate the next morning. “Can’t you hurry a little?” I called. “What took you so long?”

“I had to change my dress,” she replied. “Besides, I didn’t know school was a place you hurried to. What’s the rush?”

“I want to see the grade on my paper.”

“Not I,” she stated firmly. “That’s a pleasure I’d put off indefinitely if I could. I hope it won’t ruin your day if you don’t get a hundred.”

The opening exercises seemed to take a lot longer than usual. I was almost chewing my fingernails before Miss Gibson picked up the test papers from her desk.

“The examination was especially hard this time,” Miss Gibson announced. “There was only one paper with a hundred percent, and that was Mabel O’Dell’s. Warren Carter had ninety-eight.”

I felt the blood rush to my face, and Sarah Jane’s mouth dropped open. “You did it!” she exclaimed. “You beat Warren by two points!”

“I’m proud of you, Mabel.” Miss Gibson smiled at me as I went to get my paper. “You worked hard on this. And you, too, Warren,” she said to him. “One error is still an excellent test.”

But not perfect,
I thought triumphantly. It would have done my heart good to say it out loud, but I knew it was better not to. Warren’s look of disbelief was reward enough for me.

“I’ll have to admit I didn’t think you could do it,” Sarah Jane said. “Or maybe I thought Warren couldn’t make a mistake. I’m sure proud of you. Your folks will be too.”

I knew they would be pleased, and I put my paper in my books to take home. It was hard to concentrate on English and history and science the rest of the day. I noticed Warren wasn’t doing very well either, but I didn’t feel sorry for him. He deserved it for what he said about God and girls.

I showed Ma the test as soon as I got home and then put it on the table for Pa to see when he came in. “I don’t know when I’ve enjoyed anything as much as beating Warren Carter,” I said to Ma. “Maybe he won’t be so sure of everything from now on.”

“Don’t gloat,” Ma said. “Think how it would be if you were in his place.”

I tried to do that, but it was hard not to believe he had it coming. After supper I helped Ma with the dishes. Then I spread my homework out on the table while Pa was looking over my test paper.

“Mabel,” he said, “this answer isn’t right.”

I dropped my book and hurried over to him. “It has to be, Pa! Miss Gibson corrects them from the key in her book!”

“Books have been known to be wrong,” Pa replied. “I’ve worked this out twice and got the same answer both times. You look at my figures.”

I carefully checked the problem that Pa had done. There was no doubt; mine was wrong.

“How could that book have an error in it?” I cried. “People depend on books to be correct. Miss Gibson didn’t see it!”

“She wasn’t expecting it,” Pa said. “I’m sure she didn’t think it was necessary to work every problem when she had the key.”

“How did you find it? With all the problems on that test, how did you see the wrong one?”

“Just by chance, I guess,” Pa answered. “I thought I’d see if I still remembered how to do these and I just picked one to work.”

“Oh, this is awful!” I moaned.

“There’s nothing so awful about one mistake,” Pa said. “You still have an excellent test paper.”

“But not perfect,” I replied. “I don’t want just excellent—I want perfect. I’ll die. I feel sick just thinking about it.”

“It hardly seems sensible to quit school over one arithmetic problem,” Ma pointed out. “Just think of the favor you’ll be doing the people who got it right.”

“I am thinking,” I said. “What if that’s the one Warren missed? He’ll have the hundred and I’ll have ninety-eight. He’ll never let me forget it. In fact, he’ll claim he was right about not praying. It wasn’t any use.”

Ma was silent while I gathered up my books to go to my room. “I’m sorry, Mabel. I know how disappointed you are. It’s especially hard to think you have a perfect paper and then have it taken away from you.”

I nodded. “Warren was right about one thing, though. He said I couldn’t ask God to take a test for me—especially not when I wanted to prove that I was better than someone else.”

I debated about whether to tell Sarah Jane on the way to school. Finally I decided she might as well know sooner as later.

“I’m not going to tell anyone else but Miss Gibson,” I said. “She can tell the others.”

“Why tell her?” Sarah Jane wanted to know. “The mistake in the book wasn’t your fault.”

“The mistake on my paper was,” I replied. “It would be cheating to just let it go.”

“How about putting down a wrong answer on your next test?” she suggested. “Then you’d be even.”

I shook my head. “I couldn’t do that. It wouldn’t be fair to the ones who had it right.”

“I was just trying to think of some way to keep Warren Carter from crowing about how great boys are,” Sarah Jane said with a shrug. “I didn’t think you’d go along with it.”

Miss Gibson was surprised when I told her what Pa had found. “I believe that’s the one Warren had marked wrong!” she exclaimed.

“I was pretty sure it would be.” I sighed. “Justice wouldn’t be served if it weren’t. I got what was coming to me for thinking I was so much smarter than he is.”

“Mabel,” Miss Gibson said, “I’d rather have an honest student with errors in her work than a dishonest one with a perfect record. When you are grown, people will be more interested in your integrity than in your knowledge of arithmetic.”

That pleased me, but the real surprise came at lunchtime when Warren sidled over to where we were sitting. “That was a brave thing to do, Mabel,” he said. “I don’t think I’d have wanted to. You might even have the right idea about praying. You’re really all right—for a girl.”

6

The Seamstress

“Ma, did you remember that we’re having an ice-cream social at school in two weeks?”

“Yes,” Ma replied. “I remember. And I’ll have a cake ready for you to take; don’t worry about it.”

“It’s not the cake I was thinking about,” I told her. “It just came to me that a new dress would be nice.”

Ma looked up from the bread she was kneading. “It would be fine, but I have more projects going now than I can finish in two weeks. Your good dress looks all right.”

“How about letting me make it myself?” I ventured. “I’m sure I could do it. I’ve watched you sew all my life.”

“I’ve watched Pa mend harnesses too, but I’m not going to try it,” Ma retorted. “There’s more to making a dress than sewing a seam. It’s always nice if it fits when you’re finished.”

“I can’t learn any younger,” I said. “At least that’s what you and Pa say when you want me to do something.”

“You win, Mabel.” Ma laughed. “I’ll get the patterns out after dinner and see if I have something easy to start on.”

As soon as the dishes were cleared away, Ma brought her pattern box to the table.

“Here, I like this,” I said.

“I don’t think you should try pleats,” she protested. “You don’t want anything with little tucks, either. They’re awfully hard to make even.”

“How about gathers? I could do that, couldn’t I?”

Ma looked doubtful, but after going over all the patterns, she sighed. “That seems to be our only choice. I guess there’s not a whole lot you could do wrong to a gathered skirt.”

Sarah Jane was skeptical when I told her that I was making my dress for the ice-cream social.

“You don’t have enough patience, Mabel. You know how you hate to take things out and do them over. You’ll get tired of that the first day.”

“What makes you think I’ll have to take anything out?” I protested. “I could have it just right the first time, you know.”

“I suppose you could,” Sarah Jane conceded. “But you’ll have to admit it isn’t very likely.”

She was right, of course. I had a habit of finishing things in a hurry and then finding mistakes. Ma was concerned about that too.

“Let me check each step before you go on to the next, Mabel,” she said. “If you have to take something out, it will be easier before the whole dress is put together.”

“No one has any confidence in me,” I grumbled. “Why do you all assume I’ll get things wrong?”

“We have nothing but past experience to go on,” Ma replied. “But don’t be discouraged. We learn by our mistakes.”

“If I’d learned from every mistake I’ve made, I’d be twice as intelligent as I am.”

Ma laughed and went back to her work. Later, when the dress was cut out, I began by putting the skirt together. Straight seams were not difficult, and when I showed them to Ma, she nodded.

“That’s fine. Now pin the bodice together and baste it. We’ll see if it needs tucks anywhere.”

“Pin, baste, and sew,” I muttered. “You don’t do all that when you make a dress.”

“Neither will you when you’ve put several hundred of them together,” Ma replied. “Believe me, you’ll save time in the long run.”

The top of the dress was more complicated. After I had pinned the two sections of the back to the front, an extra long piece of material hung at the bottom.

“These parts don’t match,” I called to Ma. “You must have cut them wrong.”

She came to look. “They aren’t cut wrong. You didn’t put the darts in the front.”

I unpinned the pieces and placed the darts where they belonged.

“Aren’t you glad you didn’t just sew those together?” Ma asked me. “Pins are easier to remove than stitches.” Ma was right, but I was in no mood to agree. I was already tired of the dress.

Finally I had the bodice basted together, and I put it on for Ma to check. But when I went to find her, she had gone out to work in the garden.

“I can’t go out there in nothing but my underskirt and a dress top,” I complained to myself. “And who knows how long before she’ll be back.”

I went back to Ma’s bedroom to look in the mirror. The dress certainly looked perfect to me. Why waste time when it was all ready to sew? Ma might be out there for another half hour.
I’ll just go ahead and sew it up,
I decided,
and surprise her.

Sarah Jane appeared at the door just as I finished the last seam.

“I thought I’d come and see how you’re doing on your dress,” she said. “Is it all done?”

“Don’t be silly,” I replied. “I’ve just started. But I do have the sides of the skirt sewed up, and I just finished putting the top together.” I whipped it off the sewing machine and held it up for Sarah Jane to see. “Doesn’t it look nice?”

There was a silence as she took the piece and stared at it oddly. “Hmm. But, Mabel, aren’t you supposed to sew the seams on the wrong side of the material?”

I gasped and snatched it back. “What do you mean? Oh, no! I didn’t turn it wrong side out before I basted it, and I sewed over the basting! What will I do now?”

“You know how much I hate to say ‘I told you so,’” Sarah Jane snickered, “but my guess is that you’ll take it out.”

I rushed to the window and looked toward the garden where Ma still worked. “I can’t get all those stitches picked out before Ma comes in,” I said. “She’ll say more than ‘I told you so’! I was supposed to let her look at it before I sewed.”

“Don’t stand there moaning,” Sarah Jane said. “Start working on it. You’ll never get it taken apart by having hysterics.”

Suddenly I spotted Ma’s scissors on the table. “I’ll cut them off,” I declared.

“You’ll do what?”

“I’ll cut the seams off. Then I can turn it wrong side out and start over. That way she’ll never need to know.”

“In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never been able to keep anything from your ma,” Sarah Jane told me. “You were just not meant to be deceitful. Or your ma wasn’t meant to be deceived.”

I was already cutting away the seams. “This isn’t deceit,” I replied. “This is survival. I’m learning how to turn my mistakes into intelligence. Put these scraps in the stove, will you?”

I turned the pieces wrong side out and was pinning them together when Ma came in.

“My goodness,” she exclaimed. “Is this as far as you’ve gotten? Seems to me you were doing that when I went outside.”

“I don’t think I should hurry; do you, Ma?” I said. “I want it to look real nice.”

Sarah Jane choked and hurried over to the water dipper.

“I guess I’d better go, Mabel. You’ve got a big job there, and I wouldn’t want to disturb you.” She rushed out the door, leaving Ma looking after her in surprise.

“She didn’t stay very long, did she?”

“She stayed long enough,” I told Ma. “And she’ll be back. You can count on that.”

I sat down with a sigh and prepared to baste the pieces together again. This time I’d let Ma see it before I stitched it on the machine.

“All right, Ma,” I said finally. “Is it ready to sew?”

Ma looked critically at the front. “Something doesn’t look right,” she said with a frown. “Come here and let me see the back.”

I went over to her and turned around.

“Why, what in the world!” she exclaimed. “It doesn’t come together in the back! Did I cut it too small?” She took it off me and turned it wrong side out. “How wide did you make the seams?” She sat down and looked at it in bewilderment. “I can’t believe I could have done that. And here I was talking about your mistakes.”

Ma was so dismayed that I couldn’t stand it. I threw my arms around her neck and cried.

“You didn’t do it, Ma.” I sobbed. “I did.” And I told her what had happened. She put her head down on the table, and her shoulders shook with laughter.

“I don’t see what’s funny.” I sniffed. “I can’t wear a dress that doesn’t meet in the back.”

Ma wiped her eyes and picked up the bodice. “I suppose we could piece it,” she suggested.

“Piece it!” I howled. “I won’t appear at the ice-cream social in a dress that’s pieced together like a quilt!”

Ma began to laugh again. “That’s all the material I have like that, Mabel, or I’d cut out another bodice for you. Maybe I can salvage enough for an apron.” She rolled up the skirt and top and handed them to me. “Put these in my room, please, and set the table for dinner.”

I could hear her chuckling as she washed and cut up the vegetables. Somehow I felt worse than if she’d scolded me.

“I know what you mean,” Sarah Jane said when I told her the story the next day. “If you get scolded, you know you deserved it. But if you get laughed at, you just feel stupid.”

We walked a little way in silence. Then Sarah Jane began to giggle. “Your ma’s not going to let you make the apron, is she?”

I glared at her.

“I was just going to suggest that if she did, the material would make nice carpet rags when you’ve finished with it.” Sarah Jane ducked and ran up the lane ahead of me.

“You’d better run,” I hollered, “or I’ll make a carpet rag out of you!”