The Pride and Prejudice in Our Story: Conclusion

Honeymoon 2001

If you've missed the first two posts in this series, you will want to read Part One and Part Two before reading the conclusion to "The Pride and Prejudice in Our Story" The following is an excerpt from Part Two:

"You got a call tonight from ...FROM A YOUNG MAN!"

"Who?" I was truly surprised.

"He said his name was Joe. He called your house first and your dad gave him the number here."

"He called here? Joe called here?"

"Well honey," she waved her hands in the air excitedly, "aren't you going to call him back?"

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On the first date-second time around (two years after the first date), Joe showed up at my house wearing a light blue oxford. He smelled of aftershave. My heart was fluttering. As he greeted my parents I observed him. He seemed taller. His shoulders were so broad. His hands were . . . 

Well, you get the idea.

We went to a seafood restaurant. After dinner, we sat in the parking lot and talked. He was working as an estimator for a construction company now. He was thinking of going to Bible college. Our communication was pleasant --very low key. I enjoyed it, but I was still being cautious with my heart. 

I did feel a physical attraction to him, yet I was still unclear as to where the relationship should go. After this date, we went out several times, and nothing changed. I felt neither more nor less sure about whether he was the one. But I liked being with him and I was determined to be more patient that I had been before. So each time he asked me out, I said yes.

Though we spent ample time alone together, he attempted nothing which would compromise my conscience. One day he told me he was resolved to win me "though honesty and integrity". I thought this was especially noteworthy. 

When did my heart turn to him? When did I first realize that he might actually be the man I would pass through life with?

It happened when our canoe tipped.

Joe had planned a canoe trip for the two of us just outside of town. There were options: you could book a 3 mile, 5 mile, or 10 mile trip. He reserved the 10 mile trip. He told me later that we were getting nowhere by going out to fancy restaurants and movies for a few hours at a time. His plan was to spend the greater part of a day with me in the wild. He felt certain this would provide his best opportunity to win me over.

The morning of the canoe trip, my friend Debbie called.

"So what do you think?" she asked. "Could he be the one?"

"Honestly Debbie, I don't know which way this relationship is going to go. I like him just fine, but I'm not in love."

Joe packed a cooler full of goodies for our journey. I thought he looked nice in a green T-shirt and khaki shorts. He guided me to the front of the canoe. I reached for an oar.

"You don't need to row." he said. "Put it down. Let me row for us."

I contemplated this for a second. I felt a bit odd just sitting there like the Queen of Sheba. But he was insistent; his offer was sincere. I recognized the effort he had put into planning things. I didn't want to make him feel deflated, so I put down the oar.

For the next five miles Joe was my gondolier. I grabbed the oar a few times to help steer, but replaced it reverently on the floor of the boat when it was not needed.

We hit some rapids. The boat tipped. I flew into the water and bounced up drenched . . . and laughing! He was soaked too. All at once, we were laughing together. . .

laughing about how ridiculous we both were,

laughing because it felt good to be young and alone with each other on a splendid summer day.

And as we laughed, all that was left of my pride and prejudice -- broke loose and floated away.

We waded up the river pulling the boat along. It felt right to be pulling together with someone. When we got back in the canoe, I rowed too.

And Joe told me I was the most special woman he had ever known.

This time his sincere feelings fell softly over me and settled into the virgin soil of my heart,

And there my love for him began to grow.


This concludes "The Pride and Prejudice in Our Story". I would love to read your love stories. Please share!

The Pride and Prejudice in Our Story (Part Two)

2001

The following is an excerpt from Part One of "The Pride and Prejudice in Our Story":

"I got a call from Joe tonight. He asked me to thank you for the letter, but he is very busy on the rodeo circuit and he doesn't plan to come back in town for quite a while. He's not interested in pursuing things further at this time."

Dad watched me process this. He put his hand on my shoulder and said, "I don't know about a young man who would dump a blonde for a bull. Forget about him, honey."

I straightened up. I felt strangely calm. 
"Don't pity me, Daddy. It's not meant to be. I'm fine."

* * * * * * 

Remember that little porcelain angel strumming a harp which Joe gave me after the ballet? 

Within the week I tossed it into a cardboard box and sent it off to Goodwill.

Time passed. Life went on as before, yet not as before. A bit of the wind had been knocked out of my sails. 

Early one morning, I was jogging with my married friend Julie. 

"So, are you interested in anyone right now?" Julie asked.

"Not really, no," I replied.

"What about that cowboy you dated a few times . . . what was his name - Joe?" 

I stopped and looked at her in astonishment.

"Julie! How could you suggest that person? I would not date him again if he was the last man on the planet!"

Meanwhile, Joe was crisscrossing the country riding bulls for all he was worth. I am told he mounted a bull over 800 times during his rodeo career. He was even on TV.  After the letter he began to feel an internal struggle. Though he continued to press forward though hundreds of miles of open highway, his heart was pulling him home. At last his career ended in a dusty ring in Texas when he got caught under the belly of a bull and was kicked in the back of the head.

Once back in town he attended a wedding reception.

"Don't you have a girlfriend, Joe?"  someone asked.

"No, I don't now, but I'm going to have one soon," he replied. "In fact, I'm going to marry a girl named Adriana, she just doesn't know it yet ..."

At the same time, my heart was beginning to feel more frequent jabs of loneliness. It was as if a tiny shard had entered in and was inching its way deeper into the core of me. In the spring I was chased down and bitten by a dog while rollerblading through a quiet neighborhood. I fell off a horse at my riding lesson. I suddenly had too many students. Papers were due. I had a recital to plan. And then my younger sister got married; and though a joyous occasion, it was also a quite hard on my firstborn psyche. 

Standing at the prow of a riverboat on a glorious afternoon, I observed a married couple give each other a knowing look. It was a look which spoke of shared delight and of what would come later for them -- a look which I had never shared with anyone.

I went to a see a romantic movie with my friend Debbie. On the way home, she asked, "What is the most romantic thing a guy has ever done for you?"

I thought of the porcelain angel, and my mouth felt dry. I had to admit it was the most romantic gift because it represented a moment -- a moment a noble young man had found good.

One evening in late summer I drove to my  grandmother's home to spend the night. She greeted me with grin. I could see she was positively bursting to tell me something. 

"What is it, Mimi?" I couldn't help but smile too.

"Honey, you got a call from . . . FROM A YOUNG MAN!"

"Who?" I was truly surprised.

"He said his name was Joe. He called out to your house first. Your dad gave him the number here!"

"He called here? . . . Joe called here?" I stood transfixed.

"Well honey," she waved her hands in the air excitedly, "aren't you going to call him back?"

* * * * * * *

Tune in next time for the conclusion of "The Pride and Prejudice in our Story" 

Don't forget to "Like" Classical Quest and join me for the Pride& Prejudice Synchro Read!

Happenings: Why I'm Not Homeschooling My Kids

My classical quest has truly come to feel like a physical quest to me --  you know the storybook kind with lots of hills, valleys and dark forests. This summer, I've struggled to stay on the path. There have been more than a few obstacles to overcome. 

At this moment I feel as though I'm standing on a pinnacle looking back over the last several months. 

Last winter, two weeks before my fifth baby was born, we put our oldest two kids in public school. Before this event, public school was never an option. I really thought we would homeschool until all our chicks left the nest. Long after it stopped working for us, I kept chanting, "I will work HARDER!" over and over. (Have you ever read Animal Farm, by George Orwell? There was an old work horse who always said, "I will work HARDER!" whenever things went awry. Eventually he was sent to the glue factory. I've always related to this character for some disconcerting reason.)

To be perfectly honest, when my kids were home they weren't always being schooled. My long, rough bout with morning sickness caused everyone to fall far behind. At eight months pregnant, I  often fell asleep during their lessons. My pre-school aged kids watched too much Netflix. I felt guilty for taking any rest during the day. It seemed the whole future of civilization depended on whether or not I could hold things together! (Indeed, a lot of homeschool moms feel this way; I've known some to crack under the pressure.) My husband came home to a frazzled wife every day. On days when we got a good bit of school work done, the house was a wreck and dinner was frozen pizza. On days when there was a nice home-cooked meal and a reasonably clean house, school didn't happen.

Homeschooling was a hard thing for me to give up. You could say I was "beating a dead horse" and I didn't stop beating it until after the horse had been dead so long it was beginning to stink. That's when my husband sat down with me. He gently grasped both my hands, looked me straight in the eyes and said, "We are going to put the kids in public school and they are going to be fine."

I'm very grateful to the homeschool movement for bringing classical self-education back into vogue.  I wonder if I would be on this quest now if it were not for my homeschool connections. Part of me will always be a homeschool mom at heart. My husband and I talk frequently about the possibility of bringing our older children home in the future -- but for now we are simply taking it a year at at time.

One thing is for certain, my children's public school teachers rescued us last year. I have immense appreciation for them now. When (and if) we homeschool again, I will not do it out of fear. ("I must protect my kids from the system.") And hopefully I won't do it in a spirit of pride. ("I can do a better job than my local school teachers can.") I feel sorry for the judgmental feelings I used to have about anything public school related and I feel sad that I have been guilty of showing disappointment toward families who "gave up" and put their kids into the system in the past.

Some have expressed surprise and even consternation over our schooling decision. I don't really owe anyone an explanation, but as a blog author with a loyal following, I feel as though it is time to communicate some reasoning and clear up the misconception that I put my kids into a brick & mortar school so I could have more time for myself -- for reading through the classics and self-education. We didn't put them in for that reason, but now that they are in, yes, obviously I have more time for writing and reading! Also, I have more time to prepare meals for seven people, keep up on housework and have precious one-on-one time with my two little ones who are still at home!

What has this leg of the journey taught me? Humility, empathy and perseverance -- in that order.

What is your life-quest teaching you?