Reluctant to Attend One-Room Schoolhouse

One-room schoolhouse wasn’t as important as farm chores.


| Good Old Days



The autumn came (1928) when I had to start school at the one-room country schoolhouse, something completely strange and scary. I hadn't played with other children much and felt terribly shy and unhappy about the whole thing. The first couple of days Dad took me with the horse and buggy. But when Dad wanted to leave me at school, that was different.

He dried my tears with his big red handkerchief and tried to console me.

But the second day was no better; in fact, Dad had a hard time getting me to stay. I thought of all the wonderful happy things going on at the farm and didn't want to be sitting at a school desk. Dad said, "I have to go back, the threshing rig will be coming today, and there's a lot I have to 'tend to before the crew comes to thresh the oats and wheat."

That was just the trouble; I wanted to be there when the threshing machine made its way up our long driveway.

After this long day of school, I ran in my eagerness to get home. I was breathless when I opened the door.

"Can I go out to the granary?"





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