by Nancy M Bell
With Walter heaving from beneath, Agnes and Elsie pulled the unresponsive child out into the sunlight. Her fair hair splayed across her waxen face, the wind moving it slightly as if she breathed. Walter scrambled out of the opening the roof, face red with exertion, his lips tightened and grim. He caught Elsie’s gaze over Agnes’ back bent over her daughter and shook his head. Pain seized Elsie’s chest and almost cut off her breath.
“Come, let’s get Anna back to the house,” Elsie urged Agnes.
“Maybe she’s just cold, just sleeping.” Agnes raised her face to look at Walter. “All because of the stupid chickens. Why couldn’t she have stayed inside like we told her?”
“You go ahead and make sure the twins aren’t near the window in her room. Tell Ike we found her,” Elsie urged her daughter. “Walter and I will bring Anna.”
Agnes set her chin and started to argue, but Elsie forestalled her.
“Think of the twins. They shouldn’t see her like this. Go, take care of your babies.”
Nodding, Agnes gathered up the bundle of extra blankets and warm clothes they’d brought with them along with the bucket of tools. The small axe had fallen into the chicken house and she decided it could just stay there for now. With one last look at the still blanket wrapped form she stumbled through the snow toward the upper story window which was the closest way in to the house from this point.
Elsie watched her go before helping Walter get the stiff figure into his arms. The burden was so small and empty, vivacity and life fled with the blizzard. Such a waste, she thought. God must have a plan for her, for all of them. Elsie bowed her head to His will and followed Walter’s slow progress through the brilliant white and blue landscape. So much beauty did little to ease the bleak sorrow in her heart.
Elsie went in the window before Walter and held the curtains back as he clambered into the room with his burden. He moved slowly across the floor and stood by the bed for a long moment, as if reluctant to set his daughter down. Elsie shoved the window closed and came to stand beside him.
“Set her down, Walter. There’s nothing to be done.” She laid a hand on his stiff shoulder.
“I know. It’s just hard…” His voice broke and a shudder ran through him.
“I know, son. I know.” Tears were thick in her throat.
Kneeling, Walter set his daughter on the bed with gentle hands. He smoothed the pale hair back from her waxen face. Her eyes were closed and her face serene. If Elsie hadn’t known better she could almost convince herself the girl was sleeping. Walter staggered to his feet when Agnes came back into the room, shutting the door firmly behind her. He folded his wife in his arms as they stood beside the bed. Elsie busied herself tidying up the snow that had tracked in, keeping her own grief at bay and not wanting to intrude on the private moment of parents and child.
“Why don’t you go change, Walter? You too, Agnes. I can take care of what needs to be done here,” Elsie urged them.
“I’ll go change, but I’m coming right back. You shouldn’t have to do this on your own. Besides, it’s something I need to do.”
Elsie nodded and waited until they’d left the room before going to the still figure on the bed. She removed the boots and socks before starting to pull the outer garments free. The heater in the room had gone out and Elsie toyed with the idea of lighting it to warm her freezing fingers. Common sense stopped her, the room needed to stay cold until they could clear the snow and hack a grave in the frozen earth.
“Here, Mome. Let me help with that.” Agnes appeared at Elsie’s side and helped removed the frozen coat and scarf. She had brought a basin of warm water and clothes back with her. Once the girl’s body was naked the two women silently washed her and combed her hair. Agnes went to the clothes press and took out Anna’s Sunday dress and underthings. Tears flooded Elsie’s eyes so badly she could barely see well enough to help dress her granddaughter one last time.
“What are we going to do, Mome? We can’t bury her with all this snow.” Agnes swallowed a sob.
“For now, we’ll keep this room cold, which won’t be an issue in this weather, and keep the children out of here. Which won’t be as easy. Once the weather clears enough, your father and your brothers will dig down to the turf in the family plot and then light some slow burning fires to thaw the earth enough to dig. When they’ve got it deep enough, we’ll bring Anna.”
“Oh, God.” Agnes sank to her knees and gave into her grief.
Elsie kneeled beside her and gathered her in her arms, her own shoulders shaking with sorrow. “It’s hard, Agnes. It’s hard. But the Lord wouldn’t ask more of us than we can bear.”
Agnes shook her head and sobbed all the harder. When the storm of grief eased, she sat back on her heels and leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder.
“What about the pastor? We’ll need to be able to get him here to say the words over her.”
“Walter will manage that, I’m sure. The roads should be somewhat passable in a few days, Walter can take the horse and sleigh into Landmark and bring the pastor out.”
“A few days…” Fresh tears filled Agnes’ eyes and she reached out to touch her daughter’s cold cheek.
* * *
It was in fact, three days before Walter managed to clear a narrow lane with the tractor. The phone lines came back on line around the same time. Elsie took on the responsibility of calling the family and informing them of the tragedy.
Anna’s onkels met Walter at the small cemetery behind the orchard and helped prepare the grave. It was hard, cold work. Agnes couldn’t bring herself to go near the place. Elsie often found her sitting in the freezing bedroom with Anna. The preternatural calm of her demeanor worried Elsie. Agnes shook her head when Elsie encouraged her eat or get some rest.
“I only have a few hours left to be with her, Mome. I need to be here for her, and for me.”
Walter got in touch with the pastor and arranged for him to come out once the grave was ready. It was a sombre procession that left the house. Walter carried Anna from her room wrapped in a quilt. He laid her in the small oak coffin he’d laboured over in the work shop. Agnes lined it with padding covered in Anna’s favourite colour of blue. The twins seemed to understand the seriousness of the occasion and were uncharacteristically quiet. Agnes had explained to Anna’s death to them as best she could, in terms Elsie hoped they understood.
The family gathered around the coffin in the living room to say a final farewell before Walter closed the lid. Doris and Willy shyly approached the casket and placed a picture of Anna and Blackie coloured in bright crayon on top of the still hands folded on Anna’s stomach.
Elsie choked back a sob and blinked hard. She ushered the young children out of the living room and into the kitchen before Walter placed the lid over his daughter and drove the nails home. Ike was well enough to be down stairs and Elsie knew nothing would keep him from accompanying his granddaughter to the cemetery.
The sun was shining and the sky stretched in a blue cup over the prairie as the little procession left the house, led by the pastor, and made the short trip to the dark scar like a blight on the white landscape. Elsie stood with Ike, numb, and almost glad of the cold that kept her from truly acknowledging what was happening. It must be shock, she thought, this detached, horrible emptiness that refused to allow her to cry. Martin and Sarah had stayed away and Elsie was grateful for that. Sarah was finally starting to feel better, standing by the open grave of her niece wasn’t something that would help her depression.
Only Walter and Agnes stayed behind, while Anna’s Onkel Ed and Onkel Jake filled in the grave. Elsie was worried about Ike being out in the cold for too long, and truth be told, she didn’t think she could stand the sound of the hard clods dropping onto the small coffin that held her granddaughter. Wrapped in a blanket of numbness, she went through the motions for the rest of the day, and it wasn’t until she collapsed into bed that night that she let herself feel. Ike held her until she wept herself to sleep.
Chapter Nine
Spring Comes Every Year
After the long nights and short days of winter, the gradual warming of the late March weather was welcome. The house was unnaturally silent without Anna popping up at every turn. Even the twins were subdued. Elsie prepared for the yearly trip to Winnipeg for new Easter clothing. Her heart was sore with missing Anna, but for the rest of the family she must not let it show. Another sore spot to worry about was Sarah and Arnold’s impending departure for Mexico. Usually, the arrival of spring mud and the departure of the snow was a cause for rejoicing. Indeed, it still was, she supposed. It seemed that the year of 1947 was to present a series of challenges for Elsie’s extended family.
Plans for Sadie’s wedding were going ahead. The girl could hardly wait for June to come around, and Elsie wished she could hold time in her hand for a moment. Turn back the clock and keep a close eye on Anna during the blizzard, pay more attention to the child’s anxiety over the chickens. In addition it would postpone Sarah’s departure, which would be followed soon after by Sadie’s. Holding time in abeyance for a while would be most pleasing. She sighed at the foolish thought, things would transpire as God willed it, regardless of what one woman wished. The pastor spoke of giving yourself up to God’s will during Anna’s service. Elsie shook her head. Sometimes it was just so hard to do what she knew was right. Offering up a small prayer that all would be well with her family, she made a supreme effort to accept His plan and carry on as best she could.
The sun was shining on the prairie, sparkling in the creeks and the Seine River as Ike drove toward Winnipeg. Behind them in a small convoy came Helen and John, sharing a vehicle with Susan and Martin. Sarah and Arnold stayed behind to mind the stock on the family farms. Sarah said she had everything she needed for Mexico so there really was no point in them going. Ed and Berry, Jake and Nettie and Hank and Frieda were planning to meet them at Eaton’s in downtown Winnipeg. Portage and Hargrave was quite near The Forks where the natives came to trade in the early days. Now there was the railroad, the immigration sheds, the Union stockyards and holding pens for the livestock. The sharp smell of manure and cattle could be detected on the street by Eaton’s if the wind was right. The drive up to Winnipeg was longer than Elsie remembered, perhaps she felt that way from the constant need to answer questions from the twins in the back seat.
Elsie and Ike offered to take the youngsters with them and give Walter and Agnes a chance to have a break. Anna was a constant presence in Elsie’s mind, and she could only imagine what Agnes was thinking. The Easter trip to Winnipeg had always been Anna’s favourite outing.
Once inside the Winnipeg city limits the traffic was thicker, and although Elsie trusted Ike, it was hard not to grip the door frame and flinch when a truck came too close.
When they finally arrived at the T. Eaton store, she breathed a sigh of relief. It took a while to find a parking spot, but Ike managed to get one that was fairly close. They’d arranged to meet at the Timothy Eaton statue on the main floor. Elsie thought it was silly, but harmless fun, to rub the statue’s left foot for good luck. The space was crowded as the statue was a popular meeting place. It was presented to the Eaton family in 1919 by store employees as a tribute to the store’s fiftieth anniversary. It was in gratitude for the generosity extended by the Eaton store to those who served in World War 1. They pledged to all the employees serving overseas that they would have their jobs, or jobs of equal value, back when they returned home. For married men who enlisted voluntarily the company gave them full pay for the duration of the conflict, while single men received half pay. The soldiers also received regular parcels from Eaton’s containing coffee, chocolate, socks and other items stocked by the store. The company also donated all the profits from government war contracts back to the war drive.
Ivor Lewis, an employee of the Eaton’s advertising department created the statues. Two were cast, one for the main Toronto store which was unveiled December 8, 1919. The Eaton Choral Society sang ‘O Canada’ and Margaret Eaton and John Eaton accepted the tribute. A similar event took place in Winnipeg on December 11, 1919.
Personally, Elsie didn’t approve of the war effort in either of the two world wars, but she could appreciate the generosity that prompted the company’s actions.
Soon the family gathered and the women and children headed off to explore the delights waiting for them in the large store with nine whole stories of merchandise. The men dispersed to the main floor to make their purchases, and then to the foodeteria in the basement to await the end of the shopping party. By the time Elsie had traipsed from the second floor to the fourth and fifth floor, she was close to exhaustion. The youngsters were full of excitement, laughing and admiring their new clothes. Her daughters and daughters-in-law were just as happy with their new finery, if a trifle less exuberant than the children. Elsie caught herself more than once reaching for an item in Anna’s favourite colour, thinking how much she would like it. From the corner of her eye, she caught Agnes doing the same thing, pausing to turn away and blow her nose on a handkerchief. Her heart ached for her, but nothing would ease the pain but time and the faith that Anna rested in the loving arms, of Jesus.
At last all the purchases were complete, and after joining the men for a quick late lunch in the basement foodeteria, the group made their way back to the parked cars. Waving goodbye to the rest of the family, she bundled Doris and Willy into the back of the car, surrounded by the myriad of packages. Agnes and Walter would drop Susan and Martin off at their place before returning home. By the time they got there Elsie hoped to have the twins safely tucked into bed and asleep. She was sure she wasn’t the only one to be tired after such an eventful day.
The evening sun slanted across the Assiniboine River colouring the rippling water orange and gold. The water level was up, she noted with a farmer’s eye, hopefully there would be no flooding this spring. It was always a possibility and not a welcome one. The Red was more of a concern than the Assiniboine, but both could be troublesome. Elsie pushed the thought away as Ike left the outskirts of Winnipeg behind. The prairie was brilliantly backlit by the setting sun, the remaining pockets of snow stained red as blood in some places by the rays, in others shadows lay like blue bruises in the hollows. Bruised as her heart was when she thought of Anna. How much worse it must be for Agnes.
Walter had burned the old chicken house down once the snow melted enough. Ike mentioned it seemed a waste, as the building could have been repaired, but he seemed to understand why Agnes couldn’t bear to look at it. The thought of clearing out the poor frozen birds and replacing them with new chicks was more than any of them wanted to think about.
Ike and Walter cleared out a space in the big barn and fashioned a chicken coop there. While Elsie doubted they would ever see a storm like the blizzard of ’47 again, it seemed prudent to take precautions just in case. The area was now populated by 100 tiny yellow chicks. Dorisnie and Willy were already learning to take care of them under Ike’s careful eye.
* * *
Easter was a blessing with its promise of renewal and everlasting life. In many ways Elsie loved Easter more than Christmas. The joy of Christ’s resurrection on Easter Sunday was a welcome counter point to the solemnity of Maundy Thursday and Good Friday. The sun always seemed brighter when it rose on that particular Sunday morning, haloing the folds of undulating prairie in saffron and rose. April 4, 1947 was just such a holy morning. Elsie leaned a shoulder on the kitchen door frame, standing with a cup of coffee in her hands and watching the grey gloom of pre-dawn gently change into soft gold and shades of pink and coral. Then the sudden burst of the brilliant orange orb flashing over the distant prairie horizon brought joy and a sense of healing to her heart. Last year, she and Anna stood in this very spot to welcome the dawn of another Easter morning. In some odd way Elsie felt Anna’s presence at her side. With the dawn came the morning breeze, it brushed her cheek like a soft kiss and she held a hand to her cheek as if to capture the caress.
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bsp; It was the last quiet moment she had that day, except for church service. It was a heartfelt celebration of the promise of new and everlasting life given to them by the death and resurrection of Christ. Elsie loved singing the Easter morning songs of Alleluia, along with Rollt ab den Stein, Jesis Lebt and In Joseph’s Lovely Garden. She left the service with a profound sense of peace and a quietness of heart she’d hadn’t felt since the blizzard.
The house was soon full to bursting with the whole extended family. Everyone brought something that had been prepared beforehand, paska bread, potato salad, plummi mooss, baked ham, cabbage rolls, potatoes, cheese, pickles, cinnamon buns, Zweiback buns made special for the occasion, and cookies. The table groaned under the weight of the banquet.
This Easter was especially dear to Elsie as it was the last one where all the family would be together. Sarah and Arnold were planning to leave for Mexico on the 15th of April. Elsie wished they would wait for June after Sadie’s wedding, but there was a group of other families leaving in the middle of April and Sarah wanted to travel with them. Elsie pushed unpleasant thoughts to the back of her mind to be dealt with at a later date. Today was for enjoying the company of family and community and rejoicing in Christ’s gift and promise of renewal. The wonder of spring came every year and each time it was a miracle after the harsh winter months.
* * *
The whole family turned out to see Sarah and Arnold on their way. Elsie blinked back tears and hugged her daughter one last time.
“It’s going to be okay, Mome. I know this is what God has planned for Arnold and me. A new start and a new life.” Sarah squeezed her mother close. “I’m going to miss all of you, though. You, especially.” She sniffed and released Elsie to pat her nose with a handkerchief. “Now, I said I wasn’t going to cry.”
