by Riker, Becky
Ellie's eyes had widened and her jaw dropped. Karlijna waited a moment before going on.
“My family had more money than some because God was gracious to us and made my father's business good even in poor times. We had a big house.
“My friend, Batia, and her family were told they must leave one day in October. My father went over late at night and brought them to our house. When the soldiers went to their house to find them, they could not. Batia's family escaped Belgium a few days later.”
“Where did they go?” Ellie whispered
“I do not know, but after that we had many times where people would come to our house, often in the middle of the night. Some stayed a few hours, some for a week.”
“Were you afraid of getting caught?” Sig had lines of worry creasing her forehead.
“I was not afraid at first, but my father's business partner was arrested. He was beaten and released the next day. Two days later he disappeared, and we never saw him again. I was very afraid after that.”
Ellie wrapped her arms around herself, “Why did you keep doing it? Surely the people you were hiding would have understood.”
Karlijna shook her head, “We could not stop. These were friends of ours, people my father did business with, families with small children. We could not stop.”
She took a deep breath.
“One day the soldiers came to our house. They took my father. My mother told us each to gather together some clothes and a blanket. Then we waited for my father to return. While we wait, we continued to take people in, but told them we may be leaving at any time. My father returned in the middle of the night. As we prepared to leave, a knock sounded on the door. It was more soldiers. They searched the house and shot the seven Jews who were hiding there. Then they took all of us to their headquarters.
“Father said we would not deny help to the Jewish people. They asked my mother why she continued to do it though Father was gone. She said the same thing as Father.
The man doing the questioning became angry and called to the other soldiers. He told us we could join the Jews we loved so much, and he sent us to the train station. It was January and very cold out, yet we were made to sit out all night to wait for the train. We had our small bags of clothing and blankets and Mother had managed to bring some bread and cheese from home. We huddled together all night with Veronike in the center to keep her tiny body warm.”
Karlijna had to stop for a moment to collect herself. Veronike had been so sad to leave her little dolly at home, and one of the soldiers had taken the ribbon from her jacket saying his own little girl would like it.
Sig moved over to the other bed, “Do not continue if it is too painful, my love. It is not necessary to keep speaking.”
Karlijna nodded, “I will continue another time. I should do my algebra.”
Ellie had tears running down her face, “I don't think I could even do English right now.”
Sig stood up, “It will probably be better then to take a little break anyway. Come have some coffee and cake.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Dear Michael, March 26, 1944
I read that the Germans have now overtaken Hungary. This is a fearful thing. There was some hope in January when we were told the Soviet army had advanced into Poland.
Today, the pastor spoke on praying for your enemy. I admit to having trouble with that. Is it not enough to not hope ill for them? I know the answer to that. I tried very hard to pray for the soldiers at the camp, the one who shot my mother, the ones who took my sister, but I could get no further than, “Lord, bless them today.”
I do not wish good for them. I only want them to be stopped so they stop hurting people the way they have hurt me. Sometimes I even wish for someone to do to them what they are doing. I probably need to pray for a new heart for myself.
Ellie and I got the highest scores on our geography quiz. She says it is because I helped her with her understanding of Europe, but it was on Africa. She makes me laugh.
I wrote earlier that I had begun to tell Ellie of my experiences leading up to my time in camp. She has not since asked me for more information, though I sat down and talked to your mom and dad about it some more. I think it is hard for her to believe that people could be so cruel to other human beings. Nobody wants to believe that.
I am praying you will be able to pray for those who hurt you. I pray every day for your safety.
Your Friend,
Karlijna
Karlijna picked up the letter she had just gotten the day before. It was from Regina.
Dear Karlijna, March 2, 1944
I hope you are well and that you like your new life. We are experiencing a new life here as well. Erich came home one day. He had received word from one of his sisters – the one in Ireland. She had turned from her father's faith and become a Christian like her mother's family. Most of her family has rejected her, but Erich has been writing to her. Last week he accepted Jesus as his Lord. I had been wanting to tell him about my conversation with you but was too afraid until then. Now I have accepted Him too.
Maurice is very angry with me and has told us we must leave. It breaks Rachel's heart. She, too, would accept the truth if she didn't fear her husband's reaction. Please pray.
The other news I have to tell you is that Erich has found work. I hope it will not grieve you when you hear he has your former position. Mr. Sodergaard has been very kind to us and we will be moving into a small house that he is including as part of Erich's salary. I know how he and his sister mistreated you, but I think he has changed since then.
He has begun attending your old church with us. His sister still goes there, but she will no longer speak to him. He is saddened by this, I think, but he has never spoken of it in my hearing.
I am glad to know I will see you again – even if it isn't until we are at Jesus' feet.
Regina
Karlijna realized she had not told Michael yet, so she tacked it on as a post script. Then she turned out her light and went to bed.
A series of letters came from Michael two days later. Karlijna tore into her share, finding the one with the earliest date.
Dear Karlijna, March 1, 1944
Today I got three letters – all from you! I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your frequent letters. My sisters write occasionally, but it is not often enough for me to be satisfied. We are all nearly starving for news from home. I have some men who receive virtually no letters, yet they always jump when mail call is announced. It is disheartening. There is one here – a lieutenant named Sam – who I don't think has gotten a single letter. His mom can't read and nobody else has bothered. It's too bad because he's a great guy.
It sounds like you are making friends. This is no surprise. I'll keep praying for you and Sara, though.
The other day I had XXXXX for lunch. It was not what I expected it to be. It was worse. I only ate it because one of the guys goaded me into it.
I'm sorry, but I have to cut this letter short because we're being called, and I don't know when I'll get this mailed if I don't do it today.
Michael
Karlijna wondered what Michael had eaten and why the censors had taken it out of his letter.
Dear Karlijna, March 13, 1944
Did I tell you I got a letter from Louisa? I don't think she's ever written before. She said she wishes you would come out and visit. Maybe you should tell her how you think Sara would feel about that. Then she wouldn't feel bad about you turning down her invitations.
I laughed when I read your story about Pete calling me Mike. All my family calls me Michael, but my friends call me Mike. You can call me whatever you want.
Maybe I should start calling you Karli like Ellie does. It is very cute. I hope it doesn't bother you to have your name shortened.
We've been pretty busy this week. I won't tempt the censors by telling you anything about our actions, but I'm so tired right now I think I could sleep in the middle of the street and a bombing raid wouldn't
wake me up. You teased me once about being a heavy sleeper. I'd prove it if I fell asleep now.
We were able to go to church last week. It was good to be able to worship even if it isn't what I'm used to. I don't think I'll be able to go tomorrow because I'm holed up somewhere – waiting.
There is an awful lot of waiting in war. I wish I could say I used it to pray, but I don't always do what is best. I've written to you, my sisters, my aunts and uncles, my parents, and any of the guys from home who have written to me.
This is the last sheet of paper I have, and you can see I should have been more careful with the size of my letters. You always write so small yet it is legible. I hope you don't get a cramp from it. If I wrote that way, you wouldn't be able to tell what half of it was.
Michael
Dear Karlijna, March 24, 1944
Yesterday I got a letter from Sara asking why I write so much more to you than to her. I wrote back saying if she would write long letters to me I would have something to answer and that I assume she is writing longer letters to Harry than she is to me. Now I wonder – after I have gone and mailed it – if she is going to take more from that than I meant to say.
I'm reading Romans 12 right now and thinking of you. Verse 12 says to, “be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.” That sounds like you. In fact, the whole chapter reminds me of your desire and your efforts to love those around you – even those who do wrong to you.
I had trouble with that yesterday when I was dealing with a fellow officer who tried to get me in trouble for a decision we had made together. I wish I could say I just accepted the blame and didn't argue, but I'm afraid I stood up for myself. You would not be proud of me, I think. I hope I will do better another time.
I was in to see the doctor the other day because of a pain in my heel. He looked at my foot, scowled, picked up my boot and reached inside. He pulled out a piece of metal. I was embarrassed by it – especially since I had been having the pain for two days. You would think I would have at least checked. The doctor called the rest of the staff over to witness his cure. I had to laugh with them, but I'm still blushing.
I've got an assignment coming up that will prevent me from writing for a while. I hope you continue to write to me so I can get a good bundle when I return.
Michael
Karlijna laughed in the appropriate places but wondered about the last letter. What was he talking about when he said Sara might read into his statement? She took her letter down to the kitchen.
“Are you finished already?” Sig asked.
“Finished?”
“You usually write back to Michael immediately.”
“I know,” Karlijna sat down and began folding the napkins Sig had washed, “but he said he won't be able to get mail for a while, so I thought I may as well wait until tomorrow.”
“I know he appreciates it.”
“He said some of the men don't get very many letters and it bothers him.”
“What else did he have to say? My letters were pretty short this time.”
“I brought the last one down. Would you like to read it?”
Sig nodded, “If you don't mind, I would love to.”
Karlijna handed it to her, “I actually was hoping you could tell me what he meant about Sara. I didn't understand.”
Sig read the letter while Karlijna finished the napkins and then the dishcloths. She looked up to see the older woman looking at her with a half-smile on her face. There was a hint of tears in her eyes.
“What is it?” Karlijna asked.
Sig shook her head like she was trying to clear it, “Nothing. I guess I'm just wool-gathering.”
Karlijna frowned, “I think that is one of your expressions that don't make sense when I take them literally.”
Sig laughed, “Yes it is. It means I was remembering things and got lost in my thoughts.”
Karlijna smiled, “I hope they were good thoughts.”
Sig didn't answer, but stood up, “I think you should ask Michael what he meant by the first part of that letter.”
Karlijna took it from Sig's hand, “You thought it was strange too? I could ask Ellie, but she says Michael writes boring things to me. He tells her the exciting stuff. I'm not bored, though.”
Sig coughed, “I think it would be better to let Ellie read her own letters. Michael may not intend for them to be shared with all his family.”
Karlijna grimaced, “Do you think he would mind that I shared it with you?”
Sig shrugged, “If you want to know, you'd better ask him. He'll be honest.”
Karlijna went upstairs to do it then so she wouldn't forget.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Michael was more surprised than he should have been to receive his “railroad tracks.”
“Hey, Gunderson,” Sam called out, “I hear you made captain! Congratulations.”
“Thanks. Have you heard yet?”
Sam shook his head, “I think I'm getting passed over this time.”
Michael couldn't understand why they would. If anyone had deserved a promotion it was Sam Dixon. He was a smart, hardworking man. He was also tough as nails. There was nothing to say or do about it, though, so Michael kept silent.
“Are you moving on?” Sam folded the letter he was writing to his father.
“I don't know yet.”
“Hope not.”
“Me too.”
The Gunderson family was happy to hear of the promotion and not nearly as surprised as Michael. Sara took it in stride as Harry had recently been made a corporal in the Army.
“I just don't understand why Michael didn't write to me about it,” Melba complained to Sara later that day when she went to visit and make care packages.
Sara consoled her friend, “Maybe he did, but it hasn't gotten to you yet. We haven't had word from him – only the official letter.”
Melba seemed pleased with this, “I suppose we can hope to hear how he feels about it soon then.”
“Let me know when you get something. He doesn't write much to us.”
“I thought your mom said she got a lot of mail.”
Sara was working on a knot in the sock she was knitting, “Oh we do, but he doesn't say much. Except to Karlijna,” Sara huffed, “He has plenty to say to her.”
Melba's hands stopped their motion, “The German girl?”
Sara looked up at Melba's tone, “I didn't mean it like it sounded, Melba. The letters are pretty much the same every time. They send Bible verses back and forth to each other. His letters must not be too private because she reads them to all of us.”
Melba hadn't cared one way or another about the refugee the Gundersons had taken in until that moment. How dare a foreigner come in and try to seduce away her boyfriend. Melba was not about to admit that she hadn't received a single letter from Michael since that girl had come around – since a quick one in November, actually, telling her he didn't think it was a good idea for them to correspond anymore. Even Sara didn't know the letters Melba was always reading were the ones he had written the year before.
“Are you sure it is a good idea for her to be living with your family, Sara? Ellie has always been so impressionable.”
Sara held out the sock to examine her work, “I was a little skeptical at first, but Ellie seems to be doing fine. In fact, Dad says her grades have improved.”
Melba managed a tight smile, “That's good.”
* * *
Along with his promotion, Michael got a short leave. He decided to spend a little time with his uncle.
“Michael, my boy,” Leif greeted him, “it has been a while.”
“Only about a month,” he reminded him.
“I think it is more like two,” Ingrid commented as she gave him a hug. “You were last here the beginning of February. But you are a busy man with a war to fight.” She looked at her husband pointedly, “We will not hold you to a time schedule.”
Michael smiled, “I think I smell cookies.”
“So,” Leif cut to the heart of the matter, “how is Karlijna?”
Michael picked up a broom and began to sweep the floor, “She seems like she is doing well. My mom writes that she is more sure of herself than she was when she arrived.”
“That's good,” Leif opened his till and counted the money. “Does she write to you herself or is all your information from others?”
“She writes more often than the others.”
“That's good too. When are you going to tell her how you feel?”
“I don't know if I should.”
“Why not?”
“I started writing letters to another lady who said she was interested only in friendship. Then, last fall, she said something about expecting our relationship to change once I got home.”
“What did you do?”
“I wrote back saying I wasn't interested and I thought we should quit writing.”
“Did she stop writing?”
“Her next letter was an apology saying she shouldn't have burdened me with that and she had been having a bad day, it wasn't really how she felt, she was lonely for her brother.”
“So?”
“I didn't write again. I was very clear going into the exchange, and I never said anything that should make her think otherwise. She has still been writing about once a month.”
“So you're the town heartbreaker.”
“No, I'm not,” Michael was annoyed at the implication that he had welcomed Melba's attentions.
“Fine,” Leif led him to the living quarters, “I still don't see what this has to do with Karlijna.”
Michael stopped before Leif could open the door, “I don't want to do to her what that girl did to me. Change the rules.”
