“Yes. It means that Cassie finally located where they sent Richelle and Erika. But she was not able to get in to visit them. However, they can receive mail.”
“Which means that they will know that Leyna is with us and is all right,” Lisa added. “Oh, Benji, that is wonderful news.”
“Yes.” He took the letter. “I will burn this immediately, but I wanted you to read it first.” He exhaled slowly. “What a huge relief. You need to tell your mother and grandmother, and Jo and Leyna. Even before the wedding.”
“Yes! One tiny light in a world of horror and darkness.” She turned and went back inside.
Benji read the note one more time, then put it back into the envelope and followed her inside. As he passed the fire, he paused to take the poker and stir the logs back into flame. Then, noting that no one was paying him any particular attention, he tossed the envelope on the fire. He poked it down between the logs and watched as it caught fire, then walked over to join Lisa.
The room instantly went quiet as everyone realized the time had come. President Enzenberger stood at one end of the living room. Everyone else lined the walls around it.
Benji took Lisa by the hand and they both straightened. As they did so, Jolanda and Leyna moved up beside Lisa, and Hans Otto took his place beside Benji. Jo was Lisa’s maid of honor and Leyna her only other bridesmaid. Hans Otto was Benji’s best man. Coming up to stand two steps behind them were Enrika and Nikolaus, faces as bright as summer sunbeams. Niko carried a small satin pillow with the rings on it. Rikki clutched a bouquet of artificial edelweiss blossoms in both hands. Like Lisa, the other girls all wore simple white dresses that came to their knees. And like Benji, Hans Otto and Niko were wearing their Sunday suits with red bow ties.
The room was silent. Then President Enzenberger nodded at his son, who stood waiting, fingers poised over the keys of his accordion. On signal, the strains of Mendelssohn’s Wedding March filled the room, and Benji and Lisa moved slowly forward.
December 1, 1938, 2:02 p.m.—Eckhardt Home
There were seventeen people in all, counting all seven of the Eckhardts, Benji, Leyna, cousin Gerhardt, Emilee’s two counselors in the Relief Society presidency, President and Sister Enzenberger and their son, and another couple from their branch.
As Lisa looked around the room, tears came to her eyes. She had always pictured a grand summer wedding, with hundreds of guests and rooms filled with flowers and elegant decorations on every side. But this seemed so much better. All that was missing was her father and the Zeidners. She had to quickly push that thought away before the tears flowed.
As they stopped just in front of the branch president, Benji squeezed Lisa’s hand and smiled down at her. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” he whispered.
“Absolutely. I’ve waited fifteen years for this moment. You’re not going anywhere without me ever again, Herr Westland.”
“No I’m not, Frau Westland,” he said softly. “You have my word on that.”
President Enzenberger cleared his throat, and the music stopped.
“Ladies and gentlemen, brothers and sisters, the hour has arrived, and we should like to begin.” He looked around the room. “We welcome you all on this joyous occasion.” His eyes were suddenly shining. “We also welcome those not seen.”
That brought several heads up.
He went on, speaking almost reverentially. “There are some of us—and I was one of them—who may be thinking, how tragic and sad that Hans Eckhardt is not able to be here for the marriage of his beloved Alisa. But as I thought about that this morning, I decided that I do not feel that way any longer. It is part of our faith that this mortal body we inhabit here on earth is but the house for the real person, the real soul. Not long ago, Hans was called upon to lay down that body, which now lies in the grave.” His voice softened almost to a whisper. “But it is my unshakable conviction that Hans Eckhardt still lives. And knowing how much our Heavenly Father values families, I find it perfectly logical that Hans would not be held back from being here for his Lisa.”
He turned to Lisa, whose cheeks were stained with tears. “How proud of you he is today, Alisa. How very, very proud. I hope you can feel him here today.”
He turned back to the crowd as she pulled a linen handkerchief from the pocket of her dress and dabbed at her eyes. She was not the only one doing so.
“By law here in Germany, religious clergy are not permitted to perform a marriage. Only state officers can do so. So this morning, in the town hall in Marienplatz, Lisa and Benji officially became husband and wife. Fortunately, the law does allow religious clergy to conduct wedding ceremonies that are in harmony with our belief that it was God who performed the first marriage on this earth when He said to Adam and Eve, ‘Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife.’ And that is why we are gathered here this day. To solemnize the legal formality with the much more powerful bonds of faith.”
He quickly sobered. “As we all know, tomorrow is going to be another difficult day for the Eckhardt family. Five of their number will be boarding a train for Holland, then crossing the English Channel to find a new home. How long that separation will last we do not know. But with that in mind, the family has chosen to make this last day before their departure a joyous one. The marriage of Lisa and Benjamin begins it. Later this evening, when all of the guests have gone and the family is together, they will have a Yuletide celebration of Christmas together.”
He took in a deep breath. “I know it is customary for men and women of the cloth to give marriage counsel to the bridal couple.” There was a mischievous glint in his eye now. “Sometimes going on at such great length as to put the couple and most of the audience in a state of deep sleep before they conclude.”
That filled the room with soft and warm laughter.
“I assure you that will not be the case here. But there are just a few things I would share with Alisa and Benjamin as we join them in holy matrimony.” His smile broadened. “Though I know that you can hardly bear not to be holding hands with each other, I would ask that you not do so until I so indicate.”
Blushing, they let go of each other’s hands, which caused another ripple of amusement.
“Alisa and Benjamin, what we shall do in just a moment is put you under covenant. I shall ask you to join hands, signifying that you are one in that covenant. And then I will ask you each separately to verbally confirm your willingness to make that covenant. Listen carefully to the promises you make to each other, for if you are truly faithful to these marital covenants, they will be a source of enormous joy in your lives, a joy not found anywhere else in this life. But I would call your attention to one particular promise you will make this day. It involves the word cherish.
“Cherish is a simple word, often linked with the word love. To love and to cherish, we say. Benjamin, you will be asked if you will love and cherish Alisa. And Alisa, you will be asked if you will love and cherish Benjamin. So let’s examine those words more closely. We all have a pretty good idea of what it means to love, but how is cherishing different from love?”
He reached inside his jacket pocket and withdrew a sheet of paper folded lengthwise and opened it up. “Some years ago,” he went on, “I came across a wonderful article about cherishing.” He paused again as he retrieved spectacles from his shirt pocket and put them on. “Let me read you some of the author’s words. I think they are very insightful. She begins, ‘Cherishing: The very word carries with it the concept of tenderness, the idea of holding dear, of feeling warmth toward another person, which warmth comes from deep within our souls. Cherishing is, of course, a form of love, but one can love without cherishing. More accurately, cherishing is an exalted form of love, the highest, noblest, strongest feeling one person can have for another. Cherishing is a love that has come to its full maturity. It is a bonding not only of the physical, but of the
spiritual, emotional, and intellectual dimensions we share in common with each other.’”
He looked at them. “I especially like that concept, that it is all of these different dimensions.” He lifted the paper again. “‘One who cherishes regards the other not as an extension of himself or herself but as a unique, forever-becoming, beautiful person who is encouraged to reach his or her highest potential. The person who cherishes envelops the other with a cloak of dignity and respect. That person creates an environment so safe that the partner can share his or her innermost feelings, dreams, failures, or successes without fear of ridicule, rejection, or revulsion.
“‘The one who cherishes seeks to connect and bond with the person he or she cherishes, to experience that person’s deepest inner-self and to share, in return, his or her own. To do that, he or she doesn’t just feel love, but expresses his or her love through acts of tenderness, appreciation, and devotion. And in those expressions, we affirm the other’s true worth.’”
He folded the paper and returned it to his pocket. “I love that final concept. Through cherishing, we truly affirm another’s worth.” He removed his glasses and put them back in his pocket. “My wife, whom I cherish above all others except for God Himself, has made a lovely, handwritten copy of this article and framed it for you, so that you can hang it on the wall in your home and have it ever before you as a reminder of your covenants with each other this day.”
That warm, loving smile stole back. “All right, then. Now, Benjamin, will you take Alisa by the right hand, please?”
As he did so, President Enzenberger addressed the others in the room. “Would you note that if I had asked them simply to hold hands they would still be facing forward, toward me. But by grasping right hands, they now face each other. That is significant because they are not making a covenant with me. They are making a covenant with each other.”
His voice deepened and he began to speak more slowly and with great solemnity. “Brother Benjamin Mons Westland, you now take Sister Alisa Maria Eckhardt by the hand as a token of the covenants you make with each other in the sight of God this day. Do you covenant to take her as your lawfully wedded wife, and do you, of your own free will and choice, covenant, as her companion and lawfully wedded husband, that you will cleave unto her and none else; that you will observe all the covenants and obligations associated with this holy state of matrimony, promising that you will love, honor, and cherish her for as long as you both shall live?”
Benjamin was gazing deep into Lisa’s eyes, and for a moment his voice caught. Then he nodded and said loudly and clearly, “Yes.”
President Enzenberger turned to face Lisa. “And do you, Alisa Maria Eckhardt, covenant to take Benjamin Mons Westland as your lawfully wedded husband, and do you, of your own free will and choice, covenant, as his companion and lawfully wedded wife, that you will cleave unto him and none else; that you will observe all the covenants and obligations associated with this holy state of matrimony, promising that you will love, honor, and cherish him for as long as you both shall live?”
With eyes glistening with happiness she nodded. “I do.”
“Then, by virtue of the priesthood authority I hold as a high priest in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I hereby pronounce you, Benjamin Mons Westland, and you, Alisa Maria Eckhardt, husband and wife, legally and lawfully wedded in the sight of God for the rest of your mortal lives. May God bless this union with joy and with posterity, and may you find joy in that posterity. May God enable you to keep the sacred covenants you have made with God and with each other this day. These blessings I invoke upon you, in the name of Jesus Christ, our Savior and Redeemer. Amen.”
He stepped back, smiling broadly. “You may now kiss each other as husband and wife.”
Slowly, almost shyly, Benji turned and took Lisa in his arms. For a moment he held her, looking into the depths of her eyes, mesmerized by them, and then he kissed her. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back.
And the room erupted in laughter, cries of congratulations, and vigorous applause.
10:55 p.m.
Benji and Lisa sat on the sofa alone, holding hands, not speaking. Her head was on his shoulder and her eyes were closed, but he knew she wasn’t sleeping.
The room was dark except for the glow from the embers of the fire and the faint light of the streetlamps outside. The candles on the Christmas tree were all out now, mostly burned down to their small metal holders. On the table, all four nutcrackers were done with their work of the day, as confirmed by the piles of nutshells on the table and scattered on the floor around them.
After sitting quietly together for a long while, Benji spoke. “Thinking about your father?”
“Yes.” It was a bare whisper. “He loved Christmas. Mama always said she had six kids to deal with.” Lisa laughed through the tears. “Sometimes he’d be so excited that he’d come in and wake us kids up early. It used to make Mama so angry. Or at least she pretended to be.” Her voice caught. “Did you watch her tonight as the kids were decorating the tree?”
“I did. It was very hard for her. But she is a strong woman. An incredible woman.”
“I wish I were that strong.”
He went to protest, but she rushed on. “Oh, Benji! I don’t think I can go to the train station tomorrow. I’ll break down, and I don’t want to have the kids see me bawling my eyes out.” Tears began to slide down her cheeks.
He just clung to her, whispering in her ear, stroking her hair, kissing her cheeks. Eventually Lisa leaned forward, her face in her hands. “What if I never see them again?” she finally whispered in a voice so taut with pain that he could barely understand her.
He carefully considered that, knowing that this was not just a question born of anguish and that trying to soothe her with empty promises wouldn’t do. After a minute, he began gently rubbing her back. “Here’s a proposal for you.”
Lisa sniffed back her tears. “What?”
“We’ll pack our stuff tomorrow too and take it to the train station.”
She pulled back. “Benji, they’re not going to let any adults on that train. None except the escorts. All children are to be unaccompanied or England won’t let them in.”
He went on slowly. “They won’t reach Amsterdam until tomorrow evening. They’ll put them in hospice or something, then the next day they will ferry them across the English Channel to Harwich, where they will disembark and start their processing.”
Lisa sat up straight, turning to look at him, wiping at her cheeks with the backs of her hands. “Go on.”
“So what if we don’t wait until Sunday to leave? What if once they’re on the train, we take a trolley or a cab out to the airport and catch a flight to London?”
“But our tickets are for Sunday. And Mama and Oma are going to be heartbroken if we leave that soon.”
“Not if they know that we can be there in Harwich, at the dock when the children arrive.”
Lisa’s eyes grew larger, then she shook her head. “But the lady at the Kindertransport office said that the children have to go with the English couples they are assigned to. We can’t just whisk them off. She said if we don’t abide by the rules they could send them back.”
“They’re not going to send them back, Lisa. But we’re not going to break the rules, either. But we would be there when they arrive. They would know that we’re in England and that they’re not—”
She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard. “Yes! Yes, Benji! Yes! Yes! Yes!”
December 2, 1938, 6:10 a.m.—Eckhardt Home
Emilee stood silently as she watched them file in. Jo and Leyna had obviously been crying. Their eyes were red and puffy and they looked totally drained. They held hands as they sat together on the sofa. If Inga had been crying, she was hiding it well, but as Emilee watched her sit down next to Jo, she realized with a start that her mothe
r-in-law looked suddenly old, like every one of her seventy-seven years had finally caught up with her in the last two weeks. She sat beside Jo and took her free hand but said nothing.
Lisa and Benji came in also holding hands, but the joy she had seen in their eyes earlier was mostly gone now. Lisa especially looked as though she hadn’t slept at all. In addition to the puffiness of her eyelids and her bloodshot eyes, her face was lined with deep-down emotional exhaustion. They took the two chairs by the fireplace and took each other’s hands again.
Emilee smiled to herself. At least she has Benji. Thank the Lord for striking that spark within them so many years ago. And for bringing Benji back to her at this time.
The moment they were settled in, she began. “This is going to be a very difficult day. I think we all understand that. Perhaps, in some ways, it will be even more difficult than what we have already endured. This is why I wanted to speak with you before the younger children awaken. It is going to be an especially difficult day for them, and it will be all the more so because they don’t understand why this is happening. Or even what is happening. So we must be strong for them.”
She looked at Inga. “I think Oma and I have shed more tears in these last two weeks than we have in our entire lifetimes. But today, we must be stronger than our tears. Today we must be stronger than our emotions. We cannot cry. No matter how deep the pain, no matter how bitter the circumstances. Our tears will only frighten Niko, and Rikki, and even Hans Otto, for all of his schoolboy toughness. We must be strong, or this day will be even more horrible than it is already destined to be.” She looked at each of them in turn. “Any questions?”
No one moved. Then Leyna started to raise her hand. As Jo saw that and turned to her, she quickly brought it down again.
Fire and Steel, Volume 6 Page 56
