Leta Rejects Marriage

"I don't think I could ever be married again,"Leta told her sister-in-law Florence one morning. 

It was late October 1931, the United States economy had entirely collapsed, and hundreds of their neighbors were out of work. Even Leta’s brother, Florence’s husband Aaron, had to take a pay cut in his job as the custodian of a local elementary school. Leta had not worked herself in more than six months. While they always had a garden for some vegetables, they were now fully focused on growing a large amount of their own food. They ate from it throughout the summer and autumn, and Florence and Leta stocked as many home canned products as possible. Florence also had a generous heart. Once a month, she took two jars of each—corn, green beans and tomatoes—to church for soup for the hungry. When she was available, Leta assisted and served. They also had a few chickens, which Leta and Aaron received from one of their farmer cousins.

“At least we’ll always have eggs and tomatoes,” Aaron said one particularly evening at a paltry supper. 

Rather than spend money on new clothes, Leta repaired and made adjustments to what they already had, working miracles with a needle and thread. Florence’s daughters, now 16 and 14, respectively, were still growing, but the elder was able to wear Leta’s clothes and the younger could still wear her older sister’s hand-me-downs. Like most younger children, June hated wearing her sister’s clothes, but Leta could fix them especially for her, which alleviated some of the dissatisfaction. 

Their intention was to survive the difficult time, and as Florence made known more than once that she hoped her sister-in-law would find a suitable mate to take care of her, Leta’s revelation startled her.

 “Why?” she inquired, her hands trapped by soapy dishwater. “I thought you were being courted by that car mechanic Aaron introduced to you.” 

“Not any more,” Leta answered, as she dried the plates Florence just washed.

“I thought he liked you, and you liked him,” Florence said. 

“Yes, that’s true,” Leta answered. “He even proposed to me.”

Florence stopped washing the dishes to look at Leta.

“I turned him down,” Leta continued. “I know, Florence, you think me foolish, but in spite of all of that, I just couldn’t say yes. My heart was not in it.” 

“Why not?” Florence persisted. 

Leta sighed loudly. Even she had trouble explaining her feelings. How could she tell her beloved sister-in-law what her heart was telling her about husbands and marriage. When she was a young woman, like most, she had wanted to be married, to raise a family and to keep house for all of them. And she believed she had found all that she wanted in her second husband Albert. He was attentive, loving, considerate, good to her children, a solid provider and a lot of fun. When he was taken from her so brutally, she never thought she could feel so good again in her life, so she chose men she believed cared about her and would be good providers to her and her children. Unfortunately, neither proved to have any of the qualities she needed in a marriage. They were even unsatisfactory providers. At first she hadn’t noticed. In the marriages, there was relief from the strain of providing for two children and herself. Over time, her husbands’ ability to fulfill their part of the marriage and family became apparent and difficult, and she had to extricate herself and her children. 

For the past two years, however, she had been living for herself. The children were living with their father and his mother. Certainly, men were an important part of her experiences. For the first time since she was married to Albert, she realized that she was having fun in her life, and she was not ready to stop. She was not at all interested in a commitment of any kind. Twice since she left her most recent husband, she received proposals of marriage. Both times the offer came as a kind of affront to her sensibility, and she declined. 

How could she explain all this to Florence, who lived such a simple and contented life—with her husband, two children, a home and church? 

“I just don’t feel it,” Leta answered. It wasn’t a satisfactory response, but it was all she had. 

“Leta,” Florence began and paused for effect, “you are 37 years old. You are not getting any younger. How are you going to live?” 

“I’m managing,” Leta responded. “Flo, I’m not expecting you to understand, but I don’t know how better to tell you that I’m happy like this. Sure, it isn’t always easy, but I’m doing well. Look at me. Look closely. I’m happier than I’ve been in years. I don’t want another man to ruin it.” 

“Marriage isn’t always easy, that’s true,” Florence said, “but it’s still the natural place for us. Everyone is married!” 

“Well,” Leta said slowly, “not me. Not right now. Maybe not ever.” 

Florence didn’t say anything for a few minutes. The room was so quiet that Leta could hear the wind creaking lightly in the attic. Finally, Florence took a deep breath. 

“At least promise me that you won’t stop thinking about it,” she finally said. 

“Yes,” Leta agreed, “I can promise that.” 

"Good."