A Harvest of Hope

by Lauraine Snelling

  “Oh yes. I asked Miss Vera to accompany me. She doesn’t seem the least put off by all this carnage.”

  “I should hope not. She’s a nurse. You lie back, and Gray Cloud will change the pack in fifteen minutes or so. You need to do this four times a day. And I want to see it tomorrow morning again. I’m sure Nurse Wells will be delighted to help you.” Was that a blush she saw rising on his neck? She kept her smile to herself and turned as soon as Gray Cloud tapped on the door and entered. Was she matchmaking? She knew Vera wouldn’t mind assistance in the romance department. After all, Astrid had heard the others teasing her about coming to Blessing to find a husband.

  She left Gray Cloud changing the packs to keep them warm. The room smelled like someone had been making pickles. She’d not had time this summer to help with making pickles, something she enjoyed helping her mor with. Mrs. Jeffers had done it all. If Astrid allowed herself to follow that line of thought, she knew she could make herself cringe with guilt in short order. While she knew the reasons she could not be home more, being the only available doctor one of them, sometimes she had to speak firmly to herself about trusting that God knew what He was doing. Most likely her mor was right when she said that learning to trust God, really trust Him, was a lifelong process.

  Picking up her black bag, she again started for the door.

  A very sorry-looking couple was coming into the hospital. The Munros! Poor Izzie Munro looked wan and harried. She was carrying a fussy bundled-up baby.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Munro! How do you do?” Astrid put down her bag. She would not be leaving yet.

  “We’re doing fine. Fine.” Mr. Munro looked awfully grim for someone who was doing fine. “We brought in little Annabel. Maybe something wrong.”

  Astrid took the baby from Izzie’s arms into her own and was shocked by how little the bundle weighed. “Let us go to the examining room.” She led the way.

  Mr. Munro explained, “Baby Annabel cries, doesn’t sleep well.”

  Astrid unwrapped the little bundle on the examining table. Clean blanket, clean baby sacque. Obviously the infant was well cared for. But look how thin the tiny arms and legs were. And how bloated the abdomen. Astrid stood erect. “Mr. Munro, the child is not getting nearly enough milk. She is starving.”

  Mr. Munro wagged his head. “She’d suck all day if we let her.” He pointed to his wife. He was obviously a modest man. He did not point specifically to her breasts.

  Astrid held aside the woman’s shawl. The front of her blouse hung straight down. Flaccid breasts, certainly not filled. She dropped Mrs. Munro’s shawl back in place. “Mrs. Munro—may I call you Izzie, please?—you’re not eating much. Why?”

  “Food costs too much money. We have no money.”

  “Do you not earn the same pay as everyone else?”

  Mr. Munro nodded. “Same pay, aye, but I must give half of it to the bank. So we do not have much.”

  Astrid’s jaw dropped. “Why?”

  “The bank man. Mr. Vedder. Valler.”

  “Valders?”

  “Aye, the very one. He gave us a loan, and we must pay it back.”

  “A loan.”

  “Aye! Soon as we pay the loan, then we’ll have money like everyone else.”

  Fury rose up so wildly, so quickly, Astrid had to breathe deeply for a moment just to get her voice back. “But half your paycheck? No! You do not have to repay at that rate!”

  “Aye, we do. Mr. Valders will ship us back to Scotland if we do not.”

  “What?” Of all the . . . Three people starving, and Anner . . . “Come with me.” Astrid marched to the kitchen. “Mrs. Geddick? There you are. I’m sorry to make more work for you, but these people are very hungry. Mrs. Munro cannot make enough milk for her baby. Feed them a big meal, please.”

  Mrs. Geddick stared for a moment openmouthed. “Oh ja! Oh ja!” She hustled toward the stove, muttering something.

  Mr. Munro shook his head. “No. We’ll not do this. We cannot pay for—”

  “We would not let you pay. Now please listen carefully, Mr. Munro. You do not have to give the bank half of your pay. Really. You do not. You will buy food for your family—”

  “He will send us away. We spent everything to get here. We will have no job, no home at all.”

  “No!” She grasped both of his arms. “Anner Valders cannot get you deported. He will not send you away. Feed your family.”

  “But . . .” Fear clouded his eyes, intense fear.

  Mrs. Geddick came marching over. “Mr. Munro. Do you trust your doctor?”

  “Aye, but . . .” His eyes darted from face to face.

  “She says you do not worry. Do you trust her?”

  And an amazing thing happened. The fear softened. His sad gray eyes met Astrid’s. “Aye. I trust you. I do not trust him. I will not give the bank more money. When you say I should, then I will give him some.”

  “Good! Now please sit down, both of you. You will eat dinner here. Tomorrow you will come to the kitchen and eat dinner again. Mrs. Geddick, is that all right?”

  “Ja! Oh ja. They must eat dinner here every day until she makes more milk. She did not dry up yet?”

  “No. I think we caught it in time. I hope so.”

  Mrs. Geddick wagged her head. “Look, the baby. The poor, hungry baby.” And she hurried off to fill two plates and warm some milk in a bottle for the baby.

  Astrid said good-bye to the Munros, gathered up her shawl and black bag, and again headed for the door. She managed to get through it this time, out into the bright afternoon sun.

  Although the sun was warming, the nip in the air reminded her that fall was in full swing. Golden cottonwood leaves whirled and danced to the ground in the breeze. While far fewer, the maple leaves glowed red against the yellow carpet. Look at this beauty! She must put aside her anger. It was doing no one any good, herself especially, and it was spoiling this God-given beauty.

  Astrid turned into the gate at Elizabeth’s. She knew how terribly Elizabeth wanted to go to the celebration and finally made a decision that she hoped she would not regret. While Scooter greeted her, the silence of no Inga made her shrug.

  “Where’s your girl?” she asked the bouncing dog as she mounted the steps.

  “Coffee’s ready,” Elizabeth called when Astrid opened the door. Soon the isinglass-covered winter door would replace the screen doors of summer. While she loved fall, she was not ready for winter, not by any stretch of the imagination.

  “She’ll be right here,” Thelma said, pointing to the chair by the round table in the corner. The geraniums from outside already graced the windowsills, blooming as if they had not so recently been moved.

  “Is Inga out at Mor’s?”

  “Ja. She spent the night with Emmy.” Thelma finished pouring coffee and studied Astrid before walking back to the stove. “You look terrible. Tired.”

  “Don’t we all?”

  “Sorry for the delay.” Elizabeth came through the arched doorway. “I was hoping we could have coffee outside, but it’s too chilly.”

  Astrid lifted her cup and blew on the rising steam. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

  “I have been contemplating something.” Elizabeth sat down across the table and leaned forward. “I truly believe I can attend the celebration tonight for at least the program. I wouldn’t stay for the dancing, of course. I really want to hear the children do their part.”

  Astrid wagged her head. “You did it to me again.”

  “What?”

  “Read my mind. I decided the same thing, but you have to promise you’ll come late and leave early.”

  Elizabeth reached across the table to take her hand. “Thank you. I didn’t really want to fight you on this, but I am feeling so much better, and this is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I promise to be careful of germs. I’ll even scrub my hands with vinegar when I get home.”

  Should she mention Anner’s shabby trick with the Munros? No. If she described it, she would just bec
ome irate all over again. Instead she caught Elizabeth up on all else that had transpired at the hospital, concluding with the lacerated Dr. Deming. “He will smell like pickles at the party tonight, but I have a feeling he won’t be dancing much with anyone other than Vera.” The two women chuckled together and shared a smile over their cup brims.

  “We better enjoy moments like these. They don’t come very often.” Elizabeth turned to Thelma. “Did you hear that? You need to come sit down for a minute too.”

  “I will.” Thelma paused. “Later.”

  Astrid stared at the woman, who was taking two pies out of the oven. Thelma actually made a joke. When she looked back at Elizabeth, they both fought to keep the laughter from bubbling out.

  Miriam hurried back to her room at the boardinghouse after she finished the day shift, wishing she could just eat her supper and spend the evening writing to her family. Tired did not begin to describe how she felt. Bone weary was closer to it.

  “You have mail,” Maisie Landsverk said, reaching into the numbered cubbyholes behind the front counter, where she kept mail for the boarders. “You hit the jackpot with two envelopes.” She set the mail on the counter. “Do you have your dancing shoes all shined for the party, or rather the celebration?” she corrected herself.

  “Everyone sure is excited about it.” Sometimes not answering a direct question was a good thing.

  “We need to thank people. That we still have a boardinghouse and any other buildings in Blessing is so miraculous. I’m glad this celebration is for thanking God also.”

  Miriam nodded and smiled. “Will you be able to attend?”

  Mrs. Landsverk nodded emphatically. “We are putting up a sign that if someone needs something, they can find us at the schoolhouse. I won’t stay for the dancing, but Sophie and I will be some of those doing the thanking.” She cleared her throat. “So close.” She shook her head slowly, as if still in shock. “So terribly close. I thank Him every day that no more lives were lost. Or even horrid injuries. Reverend Solberg reminded me of that the other day when he and Mr. Devlin were having coffee in the dining room.” She half smiled. “We need reminders, you know.”

  “That we do. Thank you.” She turned away and looked up the staircase. Right now that seemed like a lot of stairs to get to her room.

  “Do you want me to send up a tray?”

  Miriam turned back. “You would do that?”

  “Of course. Give you a chance for a short nap at least.”

  Do I look that tired? “Thank you.” After a comment like that, somehow the stairs did not look so intimidating.

  She set her things down, cut open the envelopes, and lay down on the bed to read. One from Mercy and, surprise of surprises, one from Este. She read his first.

  Dear Miriam,

  We are all doing well here. I like my job. Joy and Truth are doing very well in school. We are happy at the hospital. We miss our mum bad, but I know she is in heaven with Father and they are both happy again.

  We miss you too.

  Fall is here.

  Your brother,

  Este

  Miriam laid the thin paper down on her chest and stared at the ceiling. He wrote to her. Este wrote to her. In spite of hating writing. It wasn’t that he couldn’t. After all, he had completed eighth grade with high marks, but that didn’t mean he liked to write. Or read, for that matter. He did not mind reading as much as writing. She remembered his saying that one time.

  The room was growing dim, due to the sun setting so much earlier. Instead of reading it again, she made herself get up and light the lamp beside her bed. Lying down again, she reread it. Unbidden, the words tiptoed through her mind. Thank you, God in heaven, that Este wrote to me. Did God really care for her so much that He made Este write to her? That was an even more shocking thought. What would Father Devlin have to say if she happened to mention such silliness to him?

  Now that caused a snort to erupt. Miriam Hastings, how you carry on. She folded the first letter, slid it back in the envelope, and drew out the second. From the differences in penmanship, she knew her sisters had collaborated.

  Dearest Miriam,

  I have a feeling you are going to be mighty surprised to be receiving a letter from Este. I wish I could be there to see your face. I want you to know we did not even force him to write. He is so grateful for his job and loves the garden better but does well in the kitchen too. Our Tonio is such a hard worker and hates laziness, as you well know. He’s still at his job loading railroad cars, and his boss notices how hard he works. Perhaps one day you’ll even hear from him.

  Nurse Korsheski said that she wants me to go into nursing school. I don’t believe for a minute that I could pass the entrance exam, and I told her that. So you can guess what she has done. She has given me copies of the past tests so I can find out where my weaknesses are. Then I will know what I need to study the most. Is she not the most amazing of women? She speaks so highly of you and promises me I shall become a nurse like my sister. O Lord God, would that I could.

  The others are doing well. I will let them tell you. Don’t you be worrying about us, you hear? As Mother said, God is taking care of us, like He said He would.

  Love,

  Your sister, Mercy

  Dear Sister,

  Thank you for your last letter. We like hearing from you. Mother saved all your letters so sometimes we read them all again. That makes you seem closer somehow.

  Este said to tell you he will write another time. He loves working in the garden, and Mrs. Korsheski says he is a natural gardener. Like our mother. Remember how she loved her gardens?

  I like being back in school again, and I help Mercy with the mending at night. Right now we have a stack of mending to catch up on. Truth reads to us as we sew in the evening. Este reads books on gardening that he gets from the gardener. Oh, he is learning how to keep that furnace going at the hospital too.

  Sometimes I wish Tonio worked at the hospital like we do. Mrs. Korsheski said again that she will have a position for him if he ever needs one. Don’t you think that learning plumbing and repairs would be better than having a strong back, especially when winter comes?

  Truth says I am being long-winded.

  We love and miss you.

  Joy

  Dear Miriam,

  School is going good. I like my classes but arithmetic is hard. Tonio said he would help me, but he works too late.

  It is getting dark early, so we need the lamps almost as soon as we come home. I feel bad using up the kerosene so I can finish my lessons. I try to do it while it is still light by the window.

  But Tonio told me not to worry. This winter will not be like the last one. We have money to buy oil for the lamp and fuel for heat.

  Do you need any more of your winter things?

  I love to read your letters,

  Truth

  Like the other, Miriam reread this letter too and sighed. At least they were all doing well. Mrs. Korsheski had indeed lived up to her word to provide so that Miriam could stay here in Blessing and finish her contract. Eyes closed, Miriam let herself think what seeing her family again would be like. The others would grow taller. The boys stronger.

  Another sigh escaped into the silence of the room.

  A knock at the door jerked her upright.

  “Miriam, it’s Maisie. I brought your tray.”

  Oh no. She’d fallen asleep. For how long? She called, “Thank you!” and opened the door.

  Mrs. Landsverk handed her the tray. “Your Trygve was by, but he did not want you disturbed. He asked me to tell you he will come by for you.”

  “Why would he . . . ? Oh, the party. I’d forgotten about the party.”

  “You will so enjoy it! He is a fine young man.” Mrs. Landsverk closed the door on her way out.

  Miriam set the tray down by the window. Nearly dark already. She must eat quickly. Trygve would be there soon.

  So she would enjoy the party, eh? Hardly. What she wanted to enjoy was sl
eep. And that would probably not come for long hours yet. She sighed and picked up her fork.

  Chapter 26

  She wasn’t waiting in the vestibule.

  Trygve paused. Hadn’t that been their agreement? And no one was behind the desk either. He checked in the dining room. No, not there either. For some reason he felt a bit uncomfortable going up and knocking on her door.

  Maisie descended the stairs and smiled at him. “If you are looking for Miss Hastings, she’ll be down shortly. I just took her up some supper.”

  “Thank you. Do you take such good care of all your guests?”

  “I try to. Some are just easier than others. Can I get you some coffee while you wait?”

  “No thanks. How are the repairs to the building coming along?”

  “Wisely, they took care of the roof first, so we are weather tight again. That east wall will take some time. But we have only two rooms that are not habitable, and we have windows boarded up. It’s not pleasant to live in a room that is constantly dark, but our guests are being so patient while waiting for the windows to be replaced. No complaining to speak of.”

  “Glad to hear that.”

  “And we are grateful for every day the bad weather holds off.”

  He heard a door shut upstairs and watched as the shoes and skirt descending the stairs quickly switched to Miriam’s smiling face. As always, his heart kicked into a faster pace. Lovely, graceful, desirable—words that danced through his mind. Would that she could feel the same way he did. Crossing to the bottom of the staircase, he held out his arm, bent at the elbow for her to accept. When she did, he grinned down at her.

  Another door closing and a conversation up above caught their attention. When Dr. Deming and Miss Wells descended, the four greeted one another. “Are you walking over?” Trygve asked.

  “Of course.” Dr. Deming smiled down at his partner. “That’s all right with you, isn’t it?”

  Vera nodded. “We could all walk together.”

  Once they were outside, Dr. Deming commented, “I didn’t want to miss this, but if you think all these bandages will make others uncomfortable . . .”