He held the book in his left hand then placed his right on Jenny’s forehead:
“Praise to you, God, the Almighty Father. You sent your Son to live amongst us and bring us salvation. Praise to you, God, the only-begotten Son. You humbled yourself to share in our humanity and you heal our infirmities. Praise to you, God, the Holy Spirit, the Consoler. Your unfailing power gives us strength in our bodily weakness. God of mercy, ease the sufferings and comfort the weakness of your servant, Jenny, whom the church anoints with this holy oil. We ask this through Christ our Lord.”
And, once again, Jenny surprised Father with, “Amen.”
“Oh, yes sweet Lord, Hallelujah.”
Turning to the end table, Father took out the cotton which was in contact with oil in the jar. It had already been blessed by the bishop of the archdiocese on Holy Thursday prior to Easter Sunday especially for that purpose, but Father so desired Jenny healed that he blessed the oil again for added measure. Father began to fervently pray from memory for blessings and healings. With each request Father asked for, Matilda added “Yes, Jesus, you be doing it now…”
“Oh God,” Father began, “of all consolation, you chose and sent your Son to heal the world. Graciously listen to our prayer of faith; send the power of your Holy Spirit, the Consoler, into this precious oil, this soothing ointment, this rich gift, this fruit of the earth. Bless this oil (over which Father made the sign of the cross) and sanctify it for our use. Make this oil a remedy for all who are anointed with it; heal them in body, in soul, and in spirit, and deliver them from every affliction. We ask this through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy spirit, one God, for ever and ever…”
And a very weak, but appreciative voice from the bed responded, “Amen.”
“Amen, thank you sweet Jesus,” Matti whispered.
Father squeezed the cotton, releasing oil onto his thumb and forefinger, then anointed Jenny’s forehead with oil, making the sign of the cross and said, “Through this holy anointing may the Lord in his love and mercy help you with the grace of the Holy Spirit.”
“Amen,” said Jenny attentively.
Father anointed Jenny’s hands with oil as well.
“May the Lord who frees you from sin save you and raise you up.”
“Amen,” said Jenny, her voice no longer audible.
Matti answered for her dear beloved friend, “Amen…”
Father stood erect and returned his gaze to the pastoral book to say the prayer after the anointing.
“Let us pray:
“Lord Jesus Christ, you chose to share our human nature, to redeem all people, and to heal the sick.
Look with compassion upon your servant, Jenny, whom we have anointed in your name with this holy oil for the healing of her body and spirit.
“Yes, sweet Jesus…”
“Support her with your power, comfort her with your protection, and give her the strength to fight against evil.
“You be strong now, Jenny, Jesus here to help you…”
“Since you have given her a share in your own passion, help her to find hope in suffering, for you are Lord for ever and ever…”
“Yes, our comfort may be hurting, but our joy for you Jenny be filled with praise!”
Father waited for Jenny’s response, but there was none. He looked over his book and down on Jenny. Her eyes were closed. Again, it was impossible to tell if she were awake or asleep.
Holy Communion was next, but he didn’t know if he should disturb her or not. Her chest slowly rose and fell; there was still time for the Eucharist. Perhaps she should rest. Father decided to say the Lord’s Prayer. Both Chloe and Matti joined in:
“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from all evil—”
“Amen,” said Jenny, startling Father and the other ladies.
“I am so happy to see you awake, Jenny, would you like to receive communion?” Father asked, before she could drift away again.
“Yes,” said Jenny softly, nodding her head ever so slightly.
Father quickly returned his attention to the end table and picked up the brass container with the Host. He turned back to Jenny, took out the Host and raised it up.
Jenny stared at the Host as Father said:
“This is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.
Come to me, all you who labour and are burdened, and I will refresh you.”
As Father lowered the host and brought it towards Jenny, she responded, “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you…but only say the word and I…shall be healed.”
It touched Father’s heart to see the immense effort Jenny exerted in saying those words. Tears filled his eyes as he placed the Host on her parched tongue. Both Chloe and Matti were sobbing.
“The body of Christ,” was all Father could say, he was too choked up to say any more.
Jenny received her Lord and closed her eyes. She was spent. Every ounce of energy, gone.
Father straightened himself and turned towards the night table. He put the lids back onto both vessels and returned them to the satchel then removed the vestment; he kissed the cross on it and returned it to the bag as well. Once more he picked up the book and said a prayer which follows communion:
“All powerful God, through the paschal mystery of Christ your son you have completed the work of our redemption.
May we, who in these sacramental signs proclaim his death and resurrection, grow in the experience of your saving power.
We ask this through Christ our Lord…”
Father waited for Jenny’s response, but there was only the sound of very shallow breathing. Father continued:
“All powerful God, we thank you for the nourishment you give us through your holy gift.
Pour out your Spirit upon us and in the strength of this food from heaven keep us single-minded in your service.
We ask this in the name of Jesus the Lord…”
“Amen…” this time Matti completed the response for Jenny.
“All powerful and ever-living God, may the body and blood of Christ your Son be for our sister, Jenny, a lasting remedy for body and soul.
We ask this through Christ our Lord…Amen.”
“Amen, and I be saying it again, Amen…sweep your healing into this child oh Lord…” said Matti, before she broke down again.
Father slowly closed the book and brought it towards his chest. He looked lovingly at Jenny. He felt as drained as Jenny appeared. The sorrows of earthly life had deeply pierced his heart. Tears rolled down his cheeks and fell upon the book, wrinkling more pages. He likened it to the time when Jesus came to the tomb of Lazarus, his beloved friend, and was so moved that He restored Lazarus’s life. Father, too, loved Jenny, he now pleaded with all his being that the good Lord might do the same…to heal her, make her whole.
What Father saw before him, however, was a far cry from a miracle. Jenny was dying and he felt helpless, but to trust in the Lord. His heart ached so it threatened to break. Energy had left him only adding to the weariness he’d been feeling lately.
Father slowly raised his right hand and blessed Jenny.
“May the Lord be with you and protect you. May He guide you and give you strength.
“May He watch over you, keep you in His care, and bless you with His peace.
“And may almighty God bless you, in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit…”
Father waited a moment, hopeful for a response then said, “Amen.”
It was finished. Father placed his book into his satchel and closed it. He set the bag on the floor and pulled the chair up besid
e Jenny’s bed and sat down. Fatigue and exhaustion overwhelmed him. He knew he should go home and rest, but he couldn’t leave her side. He placed his hand over Jenny’s and began reciting scriptural passages as he had when he entered the room:
“I believe that I shall see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Psalm 27:13
Come, blessed of my Father, says the Lord Jesus, and take possession of the kingdom prepared for you… Matthew 25:34
The Lord Jesus says, today you will be with me in paradise. Luke 23:43
In my Father’s home there are many dwelling places, says the Lord Jesus. John 14:2
The Lord Jesus says, I go to prepare a place for you and I will come again…to…take you myself…John…”
Father could barely go on, his heart felt too heavy. He recalled when Anna died how he lain on the bed after the attendants removed Anna’s body.
Now, for the second time in his life, Father cried out as he did then, “Oh Father in heaven, come and take me, too…” He hung his head and sobbed.
Father felt someone’s hand on his shoulder, slowly nudging him…
“Father, Father, I think you need some rest.”
Father looked up at Dr. Kreake looking down at him.
“Oh, good morning, doctor, I must have dozed off.”
Father stood and shook Dr. Kreake’s hand. “How is our Jenny doing?” inquired Father, knowing the answer and yet wanting to make conversation.
Dr. Kreake just shook his head.
“I just came to check on her before I made my morning rounds. She is refusing all medication and life support.”
Father slowly shook his head, “She is ready to see her Lord.”
There was a lengthy silence. Father looked at his wrist watch, “Oh my, it’s only 6:00 a.m.. You do get started early.”
“Well, I must admit, I am earlier than usual, today. Jenny hasn’t been well. I wanted to see her before I got started.”
“Yes, I understand, I want to be with her and support her as well. She is such a lovely lady.”
Dr. Kreake smiled then moved to Jenny’s bedside.
Chloe and Matti were standing on the other side of Jenny’s bed, tears flowing from their eye’s. Matti’s rapidly moving lips, although silent, reflected fervidness.
Father didn’t even know the ladies were still present in the room until he felt the power of Matilda’s faith…
“Ah, good morning girls. I see you are both still here.”
“It’s good to be here, Father, beside my sister’s side. Oh my sweet Jesus is going to heal Jenny. I just knows it…”
Chloe remained silent as her hand softly assuaged Jenny’s shoulder.
Father nodded and said, “Well, I best be going.” Father picked up his satchel, turned to Jenny and stared for a long time. Her left hand must have found its way up to her chest while he was asleep. She was clutching onto her pewter guardian angel. She was still wishing for someone to come and give her a kiss. It reminded Father of the envelope Jenny had given him.
He’d struggled for hours the evening before deciding whether to open it or not and find out who her first love was. Perhaps he would peek into the envelope…it could be part of the Lord’s plan.
Fresh tears welled up in his eyes. If it is your will oh Lord, restore Jenny. Bring back her health and life. Let her serve you a little while longer…if it is your will… “God be with you,” he whispered then turned and walked out.
Father walked wearily down the hospital corridor, completely drained and exhausted. How deeply he prayed for a healing, a miracle. He had given it his all, but it was not meant to be. Nurses, doctors and aides bustled back and forth tending to their duties. Father was oblivious to it all. He felt in his heart that the end was near, but not only for Jenny.
A brightness glowed about him as he trudged along.
Chapter Seventy-Six
Even though the shadows of the night still covered the valley, the birds had anticipated the light long ago and were already chirping their greeting to the impending morning.
Henry was still asleep in his chair in the sun-room as the sun peeked over the horizon and a ray of light streaked into the room. The sudden brightness stirred him and he gently awoke to the sounds of nature. He shivered. The fireplace was on, but it couldn’t keep up with the cold air pouring in through the open screen door. He quickly got up to close the patio doors.
A thick mist spread over the entire valley floor. Whenever this occurred, it always reminded Henry somehow of a cloud that got too heavy and fell from the sky. Even though he felt chilled, he couldn’t help but step outside and seep in the peace and calm of the early morning. There is such a spiritual presence at this time of day. Truly meant for praying and meditating, preparing for the day ahead. His thoughts were suddenly broken by a skirmish at the bird feeder.
A group of sparrows where trying to fend off a woodpecker who was using his size to get more than his fair share of the sunflower seeds. Even the birds have their quarrels. It reminded him of Marjorie and her son, but…he didn’t want to go there, now.
Rather, he breathed the fresh air deeply into his lungs and surveyed the valley once more. As the rising sun burned off the fog, shadows of trees and hills emerged like ghosts before his eyes, almost as though being created for the first time. He wondered if that is what it was like when God created the earth out of the purity and depth of His thoughts. No wonder He saw that it was all good. Henry felt so blessed that he lived in this little slice of heaven.
The sound of the creek rushing over the beaver dam drifted up to him from the valley below. He couldn’t see it through the mist, but its sound indirectly instilled a feeling of calm. The calm did not come from the turbulence of the water falling over the dam, but rather, the still water in the pond just before the dam. It reminded him of the 23rd Psalm and he softly muttered under his breath, “He leadeth me beside the still waters…and gives me rest.” Seeing his breath in the cool morning air as he spoke reminded him of how chilled he really was.
Henry picked up a blanket and warmed it in front of the fireplace for several minutes then spread it over his chair where he nestled into it, his bones drawing as much of the warmth as they could. His joints and muscles were sore and stiff from sleeping in the chair all night. He should have gone to bed, but the dream he had so unnerved him that he wanted to get right back to sleep and continue the dream. The shock of seeing Camilla as Marjorie might not be so far fetched as he had thought. She looked so much like Jenny and for months, now, he had been fantasizing about Marjorie, desiring Jenny, that it was just natural for him to see Camilla there.
The old Westminster wall clock in the sun room read 7:28 a.m., still enough time to read some more of the diary before having to head in to the Gallery. As he reached for Marjorie’s diary on the end table next to him, he wasn’t certain any more if he wanted to know the truth about Marjorie as he was comfortable in the fantasy he had created and felt safe within its boundaries. Whatever scene or scenario he wanted to conjure up for the day was easily in his control.
But now, he was facing the real Marjorie. The story of what had happened between her and her son had already upset him. Truth and consequences were at the doorstep and once he opened the diary his fantasies would be all but completely shattered. It could set him adrift again like a leaf in a prairie wind, completely at the mercy and hands of destiny.
Fear and trepidation had set in and he no longer felt the eager desire to read the diary and yet this foolishness had to end. Father was right, as usual. The notion that Marjorie and Jenny were one in the same, was a figment of his imagination, an illusion and began to concern him.
“Better snap out of all this before you lose touch.” The real Marjorie was just some very sick lady in a care home and not the Marjorie he had created – an ideal Marjorie with similar tastes, likes, dislikes, character and even looks t
o that of the love of his youth. Whether it would destroy the wonderful world he had created or not, it had to end.
Henry slowly opened the diary to the section labeled private thoughts. Instead of flipping randomly through this section as he had the day before, he started from the beginning. That way, he’d know the truth. The first few entries had to do with her 15th birthday and people she invited to her party. In the next she described her feelings about having to move again. She loved Vancouver, had made friends and now her father was being transferred to Regina, some city in Saskatchewan that she knew nothing of. She dreaded to move there and start all over again.
The next entry however, immediately caught his attention:
July 6, 1956.
I think I am really going to like it here in Regina after all. I just met this cute boy at a grocery store. I helped him pick up cans of salmon that he knocked over. Oh, I can’t explain how wonderful it was to look into his eyes! I still can’t get over it…
He walked me home and I held his hand as we crossed a busy avenue. It felt so romantic. After lunch, he is going to take me to Balfour Collegiate to register, I can hardly wait. Perhaps we will hold hands, again.
Oh yes, his name is Henry.
Henry jumped up, making certain he was awake and not just having another dream. Marjorie was Jenny!? Still in a state of disbelieve, he re-read the last sentence several times. It was right before his eyes in black and white. He had suspected it, felt it in his bones, dreamt about it, fantasized about it, even thought he was losing touch with reality and here he had been right all the time.
Marjorie Hamilton was Jenny Sarsky!?
Henry paced the floor, trying to work out the tremendous surge of energy sweeping through him, as he leafed through the next few entries. Each one confirmed the awesome truth that Marjorie was Jenny! Their walk home in the storm, getting soaking wet, running barefoot on the grass. Their summer walks, the movie outing, their first kiss…
The Angelic Occurrence Page 68
