by Dean Hughes
“Only a little. You might give some to members if you want, but I would keep a reserve. You’ll need to eat, and the way the trains are jammed, it could take a day or two to get out.”
“President, do you know the Stoltz family, here in Frankfurt?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Before we go, I want to talk to Brother Stoltz and see whether he’s willing to be baptized.”
“You’d better not take time for that. If you can get out, just go.”
“But the family needs to be united. And he could be such a big help in the branch once we’re gone.”
“I know, Elder. But my concern right now is to get all of you out of Germany before this war starts and the borders close.”
“Are all the missionaries gone from Frankfurt?”
“No. We’re trying to close out the office. We have a million things to do, and Sister Wood is trying to finish up some lesson materials the members can use. But we’re hoping to leave by tomorrow—or maybe the next day.”
Elder Thomas wondered. If the president’s missionary work could keep him another day, maybe his own work could too. Still, he knew what he had to do—he had to obey his mission president.
And so the elders walked to the train station, and they stood in a long line. But the harried clerk was not a lot of help. There were no tickets available on any train leaving Frankfurt that afternoon or evening. Finally, he said he could sell them tickets all the way to Amsterdam on a train leaving the next morning, but he couldn’t guarantee that the schedule would hold overnight. Elder Thomas was too elated to worry about that. He had his answer. Now he had to stay.
And so the elders hurried back to the Stoltz’s, and they repacked their bags, leaving behind all sorts of things for Sister Stoltz to keep or to pass on to other Church members.
Elder Thomas was on his knees in the living room, packing, when the door opened and Anna stepped in. She looked tired but beautiful. She didn’t say anything, but Elder Thomas saw her swallow, as though she were trying to find her voice.
“Guten Tag,” Elder Thomas said lightly, trying to sound casual about being there. He stood up.
“What. . . .” But she didn’t finish.
“We’re leaving Germany,” Elder Thomas said.
“I know. We heard. But I didn’t expect you here.”
“We’re leaving our trunks behind.” It wasn’t much of an explanation, but he didn’t want to go through the whole story.
“How long will you be here?”
“We leave in the morning.” Elder Thomas finally thought of his companion. “This is Bruder Taylor,” he said.
Elder Taylor shook her hand. “It pleases me,” he said softly.
Sister Stoltz had come into the room now. “Isn’t this wonderful?” she said, and she walked to Anna and put her arm around her waist. And then she added, “I’m preparing something to eat. Anna, you keep them company until it’s ready.”
Anna nodded, and then she sat down on the couch. Elder Thomas knelt by his suitcase again, but he kept looking at her. “Where are you going?” she asked.
“To the Netherlands. And then . . . I don’t know.”
“Bruder Meis told us the last time you went to the Netherlands, you came back—after three weeks.”
“Yes. But it won’t happen that way again. President Wood said we won’t be back.”
She nodded, and he saw the sadness in her eyes. “It will be nice for you, to see your family.”
“We may not go home. We may finish our missions somewhere else. No one knows for sure.” Elder Thomas looked down at the things in his trunk, but he couldn’t think what to do with anything. All his concentration was gone. “How’s the branch doing?” he asked.
“Good. Everyone is kind to us. I teach the small children in Primary. Mother teaches the older ones.”
“That’s good, Anna. What about your father? Does he go with you?”
“Yes. Every week.”
Elder Thomas finally heard some animation in her voice. He looked up again. “That’s what I was hoping. Do you think he’ll ever join the Church?”
“I think he wants to. He’s never quite certain. You should talk to him while you’re here.”
“I plan to.”
Elder Thomas looked down again. She had begun to smile, to accept the joy of the moment, however brief. But the discussion stayed on the surface, and the problem was, there
wasn’t much to say. They talked about the people in the Frankfurt branch, and they glanced back and forth at each other, both so self-conscious that it was actually easier not to look.
“Does anyone know anything about Bruder Goldfarb?” Elder Thomas asked.
“No one can contact him directly, but President Meis gets reports from someone. All we hear is that he is still there in his shop, alone.”
“I wish I could go there today. If it were only dangerous to me, and not for him, I would.”
“Don’t do it. Maybe there’s something we can do—at some time. If there is a way, my father will do it.” And Elder Thomas had to accept that. He had no other alternative.
By the time the elders had finished packing and Sister Stoltz had brought in some coldcuts for them to eat, Peter showed up. He had hardly calmed down before Brother Stoltz came in. They all talked about the evacuation of the missionaries, about the possible war, about the change that would come to all their lives.
“Bruder Thomas,” Brother Stoltz said, “a long time ago I told you we might end up enemies. And you said we never would.”
“We never will, Bruder Stoltz.”
“Yes, I believe that’s so. You and I cannot be enemies. But America may follow the other countries into the war. And you missionaries returning home could become soldiers. Whether you like it or not, you could come back to this soil to shoot at us.”
“I couldn’t do that.” Elder Thomas was sitting at the kitchen table. He looked up at Bruder Stoltz, who was standing by the kitchen door, but he couldn’t look at him long. He knew he was making a promise he might not be able to keep. And yet some things were so deeply contradictory that they seemed impossible.
“Our missionaries will never shoot at us,” Sister Stoltz said. “Not even Hitler can make that happen.”
“There is no end to the evil men can do,” Brother Stoltz said. “We have seen enough already to know that.” He looked at Elder Thomas. “This Kellerman—the Gestapo officer—came to us one day. He said you had been followed here many times, and he wanted to know what our connection to you was.”
“What did you tell him?”
“We told him that we attended the same church. But he didn’t care about that. He was only here to frighten us. It’s what these men do. When they have nothing better to do, they go about making life a terror for anyone they can.”
“Will he bother you anymore now?”
“Who knows? If he asks me what I think of the Nazis, I ought to tell him. Someone needs to stand up to them.”
“And die,” Anna said. “Please don’t talk that way.” She walked over and took hold of her father’s arm.
“Oh, I won’t. Don’t worry. I’ll be like every other German. I’ll sit by and let this happen. Our nation will be destroyed, and I’ll do nothing at all about it.”
The room fell silent.
“What about the SS men?” Elder Thomas was finally brave enough to ask. “Have any of them bothered Anna?” He looked at Brother Stoltz, unable to pose such a repugnant question to Anna herself.
“We have been fortunate in that matter,” Brother Stoltz said. “So far.”
“She is strong,” Sister Stoltz said. “These men don’t like strong girls. They like the ones they can convince easily—ones who like the power of such brutal men.” And then she added, “Bruder Thomas, the Lord is looking out for her—just as you said he would. Anna will be all right.”
“At least it’s what we hope,” Brother Stoltz said, not offering his usual cynicism.
“Bruder S
toltz, you need to be baptized. You may not be able to stop Hitler. But you can bring your family together. You can bring the priesthood into your home.” He stood up, so he could look directly at Brother Stoltz.
Brother Stoltz was still wearing his suit from work—the only suit Elder Thomas had ever seen him in. He hadn’t even taken off his tie. He looked down and rubbed his hands together, and he didn’t say no.
“Anna tells me you go to the branch meetings,” Elder Thomas said. “And you like them.”
“Yes, that’s true. I like the hope it offers.”
“Do you pray?”
“Yes. I do that.”
Elder Thomas was not surprised but pleased, and he liked Brother Stoltz’s tone of voice. “What do you feel when you pray?”
“I like to pray. I enjoy the thought that there actually is a God and that he cares about us—even in all this disorder and ugliness. But I don’t know. Perhaps I feel good when I pray only because I want to hide from the possibility that there is no one to help us.”
“At some time, you have to listen to the Spirit. Accept it. Not discount it every time you feel it.”
Again Brother Stoltz looked toward the floor, and he rubbed his hands together. “I made a little test for the Lord,” he said. “It’s not the right thing to do, I suppose, but I did it.”
“What test?”
“Last night, I talked to Bruder Meis. He told me that the missionaries were leaving. I knew how much my family wanted to see you, and so I asked the Lord to send you here.”
“Heinrich, you didn’t tell me that,” Sister Stoltz said.
“I know.”
“Why was that a test?” Elder Thomas asked.
“I told the Lord, ‘Send him here if you care about us.’”
“We didn’t plan to come this way, Bruder Stoltz. But it was the only city we could get tickets for. And we couldn’t get a train for the Netherlands until tomorrow. So maybe God made it happen.”
“It’s possible.”
“Oh, Heinrich. You ask and you receive. And even then you doubt.” She too walked to him, took hold of his other arm.
“But how does one know? What if the elders hadn’t come? Would it mean there is no God? It’s all so difficult to know.”
“Bruder Stoltz, we are here. I wanted to come. I think you should be baptized. Now. Tonight, before we go.”
Brother Stoltz’s head came up, and those intense blue eyes, like his daughter’s, filled with tears. “That’s what I told the Lord. I said, ‘Send Bruder Thomas. I’ll take that as a reason to commit myself. I’ll be baptized.’”
“Then you will, Heinrich?”
Brother Stoltz looked at Anna, and then at Peter, across the room, and then he turned and took his wife in his arms. “Ja. Ich bin bereit.”
I am ready.
Elder Thomas could hardly believe he was hearing this.
“But let’s do it quickly. If I think very long, I’ll change my mind. I feel something very strong right now, but I’ll question it soon. I know I will.”
Elder Thomas stood. “I’ll go find Bruder Meis. And I’ll check at the bathhouse. I don’t see any reason we can’t do it tonight.”
“It’s good,” Bruder Stoltz said.
Peter ran to his father and grabbed him, and Anna reached around and hugged him from one side while Sister Stoltz still had him from the other. The four stood together, holding each other, while the missionaries watched. Elder Thomas had never known such joy in his life—nor such sorrow. If only he didn’t have to leave.
Chapter 16
Elder Thomas and Elder Taylor were able to find President Meis, and he knew the man who ran the bathhouse. These were chaotic times for everyone, but the owner was more than happy to rent his establishment for the evening. President Meis, however, suggested something that added a new layer of difficulty. His second counselor, Brother Richter, was an older man whose health had been bad all summer. Brother Stoltz had already been a big help to the branch, but he could do more if he were called to the branch presidency. The only problem was that a missionary had served as district president, and he had already left.
And yet, everything fell together. President Meis was able to take a streetcar to the mission office, and President Wood authorized the reorganization of the branch. He sent one of his counselors, another missionary, to take care of it. And Brother Stoltz accepted the call, before his baptism.
A little group gathered together at the bathhouse that evening. Outside, trucks full of troops were roaring through the city, and all the talk was of war. Inside, Elder Taylor, who was about to perform his first baptism, sat next to Brother Stoltz, dressed in white. The handful of members sang with power, and Elder Thomas talked about peace.
“We search for peace, and we find very little,” he said. “Men are aiming guns at each other right now, preparing to make war. Soon, perhaps, the only place we’ll find peace is within ourselves and in Jesus Christ. We must trust that in the end, all will be well—as our favorite hymn tells us.
“I want you to know that you will always be my brothers and sisters. Nothing will change my heart. Or Brother Taylor’s. The day will come when we will be united again. I hope that war won’t come, but if it does, trust that members of the Church all over the world will pray for you, will love you, will be waiting for the day when this darkness clears.”
Elder Thomas invited Elder Taylor and Brother Stoltz to come forward. Once in the water, standing next to Elder Taylor, who towered over him, Brother Stoltz looked up at Elder Thomas. He seemed more resolute than joyous, but he did look calm.
After the baptism, the Saints sang hymns as they waited for Brother Stoltz and Elder Taylor to change clothes. And then, when they returned, Brother Stoltz sat down on a chair next to the pool, and the brethren gathered around him. Elder Thomas confirmed him a member of the Church. He blessed him that he might become a man of great faith, that his doubts might disappear. As he said the words, he felt Brother Stoltz begin to shake. And when the prayer was over, Brother Stoltz stood up with tears on his cheeks and something new in his eyes. He wrapped his thick arms around Elder Thomas.
President Meis then ordained Brother Stoltz an elder, and Elder Buhl, from the mission office, asked the members to release Brother Richter and to sustain Brother Stoltz as second counselor in the branch presidency. The members were not surprised, and of course, every hand went up. Once more the men gathered around, and this time Elder Buhl set Brother Stoltz apart.
The closing hymn was “God Be with You Till We Meet Again,” but Elder Thomas wished he had never chosen it. He could hardly get through the song, and everyone else was struggling too.
Brother Meis closed the meeting with a tearful prayer. He asked the Lord to protect and bless the missionaries as they departed, and he prayed that other missionaries would soon return. “But now, while they are gone, please strengthen those of us who remain, that we might carry on the work,” he asked. And Elder Thomas tried to picture it. Would there be battles here eventually—soldiers, artillery, even bombs?
When the prayer ended, there was only silence, but finally Sister Stoltz turned and embraced her husband. Anna and Peter followed, and the members lined up to shake Brother Stoltz’s hand. Elder Thomas was watching them when he felt a touch on his arm, and he looked to see Anna next to him. “I must say something to you,” she whispered.
The two were not far from the others, but the rumble of the echoing voices was loud in the tiled room. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for what you have done for my family.”
He turned toward her, but he stepped back just a little. “Believe me, Anna, this has been my pleasure.” He knew he sounded overly proper, but he also knew it was the only way he should talk to her.
“I’m afraid I won’t see you again,” she whispered.
Elder Thomas’s breath caught. He couldn’t let her get too personal. “We can always remember each other,” he said, and instantly he hated the words. She was looking up at h
im, those huge eyes swimming in tears. “Anna, you’re young,” Elder Thomas said, but he didn’t dare add to that.
“I’m not a child. I know what I feel.”
Elder Thomas had to end this. “Anna, I’ll pray for you,” he said, trying to sound like a missionary. “I’ll always remember you and your family. I hope you’ll all be kept safe.”
“Will you write to me?”
“Yes. Yes, I will.” And he knew that once he was released, he could be more open with her. “But if war comes, letters might not get through.”
“I know. But let’s try. Do you want to write to me?”
“Yes. Certainly.” But that was all he said. He stayed under control.
It was on the train the next morning that he missed her so deeply that he wished he had said everything, mission rules or not. He wished that he had begged her to wait for him, and that he had promised to return to Germany as soon as he could. There were so many things he didn’t know about her, so many hours he wanted to spend with her. And now she was just . . . gone.
“Are you okay?”
Elder Thomas was staring out the window at the countryside—watching Germany disappear from his life. He and Elder Taylor had found seats at first, but as the car got crowded, they got up and gave their places to a woman and her daughter. Now they were standing at the back, leaning against the wall behind the last seat. Elder Thomas was next to the window; looking out gave him something to do besides stare at the crowds of people.
“I’m okay,” he said. “It’s a hard time for all of us.”
“I feel like I’ve been cheated out of my mission,” Elder Taylor said. “Until last night, it didn’t seem so bad. But being with that branch and performing the baptism, now I feel like I’m supposed to be here.”
Elder Thomas saw a couple of soldiers glance at them, surprised to hear English. Elder Thomas wasn’t sure it was a good idea to bring attention to themselves. “I feel that way too,” he said quietly. “I would have been going home in February anyway, but I still wish I could stay until then.”
Elder Thomas watched the pastures and garden plots outside. He saw women in long skirts, their heads wrapped in scarves, and men in high boots and wool trousers. It was Sunday morning, but they were working—maybe because of the impending war.