“In the spring when the class graduates, you will stand at the head of it. What do you say, Miss Hale?”
Tabitha turned and looked from Rose to Carpenter for help. Rose’s tearful smile and Carpenter’s grin told her that they approved. She had only one more concern.
“May I ask a clarifying question, Dean Wellan?”
“Of course, Miss Hale.”
“You mentioned that the Red Cross may be asking for more nurses. Could you elaborate, please?”
“Ah, yes.” He fiddled with his spectacles a moment. “Wars and rumors of wars, Miss Hale. Prognosticators and scaremongers within the government see a buildup toward war in Europe. They may have war there, but I sincerely doubt that we, the United States, would involve ourselves in a distant regional squabble. However, should war break out, the Red Cross organization predicts that the world will face a critical shortage of skilled nurses.”
He placed his spectacles on his nose. “The government has said nothing officially, of course, but we do not wish to be found wanting, should the call come.”
“I see, sir.” Tabitha thought for a moment. “One further question, sir?”
He inclined his head.
“If I were to accept your generous offer, would I be permitted to take advanced courses in specialties of my choice?”
“I do not see why not. What specialty areas are you considering?”
Tabitha nodded. “In the areas of contagious sicknesses and traumatic wound care, sir.”
His brows arched. “Very ambitious selections, Miss Hale. May I ask if you have a personal reason for studying contagious sicknesses?”
Her throat closed up as she tried to speak. She threw a look for help toward Rose, who nodded her encouragement. After a few swallows, Tabitha whispered, “A dear friend of mine, of ours—” she indicated her friends from Denver, “passed away due to complications from influenza.” Her voice stuck and would say nothing further.
“Miss Hale nursed our entire household through that influenza, Dean Wellan,” Rose supplied. “With no training except what our family physician provided over the telephone, Tabitha introduced strict protocols that kept others from falling ill. She cared for all who did fall sick. We knew then that she had a calling to nursing. However, we lost one dear member of our family during that ordeal.”
Dean Wellan sighed. “As hard as we try and work, we always lose some patients.” He nodded to Tabitha. “I give my permission to your request. I will speak to the dean of the medical school. The courses you suggest would be taken with graduate nurses and student physicians.”
“Then, sir, I accept your offer, with thanks.”
They both rose and Tabitha shook Dean Wellan’s extended hand.
Almost as an afterthought, he exclaimed, “Dear me. I almost forgot.”
He found the paper he had tucked into the sleeve of his ink blotter and handed it to her. “It appears you have not been home in quite some time. A five-day pass, Miss Hale. Please return by the date noted. You will be on the work schedule for the next day and will be allowed to take your final exams at the end of the month. Have a nice visit with your family. You deserve it.”
Tabitha, Carpenter, Rose, and O’Dell left the dean’s conference room in silence. Tabitha was overcome and stared at the pass.
“Five days!” she murmured.
“Will you pack and come home with us, dear?” Rose inquired.
“What? Oh, yes! How wonderful! I will see everyone again—it has been such a long time.”
“We should get on the road as quickly as we can,” Carpenter suggested. “Although it is still early afternoon, we will likely be late for dinner.”
He took her arm and they walked ahead of Rose and O’Dell. He was anxious to have a private word with Tabitha.
“I must say something to you, Tabitha; I must confess something that lies heavy upon my heart.”
“What is it, Mr. Carpenter?”
“You told me on Christmas day as we ate dinner at the Palindrome Hotel—a year and a half ago!—that you were working all nights. I knew it wasn’t right! I could see how exhausted you were. I even decided to look into your situation—and I could have easily asked Dean Wellan to explain.”
He sighed and squeezed her arm. “And yet I promptly forgot. Even when it crossed my mind later, I did nothing. It is my fault that your circumstances were not rectified in time to ensure that you graduated with your class.”
Tabitha was silent for many steps. “I accept your apology, Mr. Carpenter; however, I do not fault you, even a little. No, I believe God has been working his will in my life through this difficult time.”
“Can you tell me what you mean, Tabs?”
A smile curved her mouth. “The Book of James tells us to ‘count it all joy’ when we suffer various temptations. Well, I have been tempted many times to give up—but God would not let me. I have been tempted to lose my temper—but my Lord forbade me. I have been tempted to strike out at Nurse Rasmussen. I have been tempted to hold what she has done against her and even tempted to give in to hatred and unforgiveness. In all these things, he has shown me that I cannot call myself a Christian and live that way.
“And so, I see that through all these difficulties, God has been working, working to refine my character. My unruly temper is my greatest enemy—and now I realize how necessary the refining of my temperament is. I believe, as it says in the Book of James, that these trials have worked God’s purposes in me so that I will be whole, complete, and lacking nothing.
“Knowing this, that the trying of
your faith worketh patience.
But let patience have her perfect work,
that ye may be perfect and entire,
wanting nothing.”
Carpenter squeezed her arm again, signaling that he understood.
As they walked, Tabitha added, “And I perceive, although not clearly yet, that the Lord has a plan for me, a plan that requires a refined heart and character. I cannot wait to discover what that plan might be!”
He grinned down on her. “I so appreciate your absolute confidence in God’s guidance, Miss Hale. Yes, I, too, cannot wait to see his plan for you unveiled!”
They arrived at the walkway to Tabitha’s dormitory. Rose and O’Dell caught up with them. Tabitha was still thinking of the coming year and her new role in the school.
“It will be a great responsibility,” she whispered, more to herself than to any of them.
“It will be a great honor, Tabitha,” Rose assured her.
O’Dell and Carpenter agreed.
“I have only one thing to say against Dean Wellan’s proposal,” Carpenter said.
They looked for him to expound.
“It will keep Miss Hale here, in Boulder, for another year. That, my friends, I am not fond of. Not at all.”
They laughed together with good humor and tripped down the walk to the dormitory’s front doors, Rose on O’Dell’s arm, and Tabitha on Carpenter’s.
~~**~~
Chapter 14
Fall 1913
Tabitha sat on the platform with the staff nurses and waited for their audience to settle. She felt stiff and uncomfortable under the speculative glances of the incoming freshman class.
Lord, I do not really belong up here—I am not an instructor; I am scarcely more than a student myself and still wear a blue-banded cap.
Then she remembered. I told Mr. Carpenter that the Lord had a special purpose to my being here. I must look for that purpose in all I do this year.
She took a deep breath and sat a little straighter in her chair as Dean Gunderson stood and moved to the lectern. “Ladies, if I may have your attention, please.” The shuffling and whispers died. Forty nervous young women looked back at her.
Not all of them are nervous, Tabitha noted. Some are as excited to begin their training as I was.
Dean Gunderson, her expression serene, addressed the incoming students. “Good morning to you all and welcome. Before we begin, if a
ny of you have chewing gum in your mouth or on your person, please proceed immediately to the trash bins at the back of the hall to dispose of it.”
Amidst a low grumbling across the hall, several girls jumped to their feet and hurried toward the trash bins. Tabitha watched one young woman swallow (with difficulty) the gum in her mouth. A little knot of three girls near the front frowned and murmured complaints among themselves. Their chomping jaws slowed to a stop, but they remained seated. One of the girls made a face; her friends giggled behind their hands.
Dean Gunderson may have taken note of the varied responses, but she gave no sign of it. Instead, she continued, “Ladies, you are here to become nurses, and your goal is an excellent one. Nursing is a vocation of service to humanity, a dedication of one’s entire self to the healing care of all peoples and their physical needs.
“However, the work of nursing is hard, demanding, and inglorious. The hours are long, and—I must assure you—the discipline is rigorous. If—” now she bent a penetrating look upon the three girls who had grumbled the most, singling out their leader— “if you find the discipline of following our rules too discommoding, please do yourselves the kindness of acknowledging that nursing is not for you and withdraw today. We have other candidates standing by should you choose to . . . drop out.”
She stared at the offenders and waited. Two of the girls swallowed their gum on the spot. The third slid to the aisle and trotted toward the trash bin.
Dean Gunderson delayed until the chastened student returned to her seat and lowered her head. “Thank you. As I was saying, nursing is a pursuit of great worth. That said, in return for your dedication, you will receive neither riches nor acclaim. Your reward will not be in the recognition of others but within yourselves, in knowing that you have served well.
“By your enrollment in our school, you have stated that you wish to don this mantle, the heavy responsibility of a nursing professional. I commend you for this first step, but it is only the first step of many to come.
“Your training, which commences today, will test your resolve in every manner and at every juncture. Do you have an unshakable calling? Will you endure? Will you stand the test? That remains to be seen.
“I urge you, then, to gird up the loins of your mind. I counsel you to hold this selfless goal in front of your eyes and seek no other end or ambition but the one that is before you today.”
Tabitha thrilled to Dean Gunderson’s words. For you, Lord! Let all my efforts and service be for you!
As the senior nurse continued to challenge the incoming class, Tabitha’s attention strayed. She lost herself in the earnest faces turned toward Dean Gunderson, many of them shining with excitement, others troubled or uncertain, some even fearful.
My job will be to counsel and encourage these young women, to help them overcome when they are struggling.
Tabitha swallowed at the immensity of the responsibility before her. Lord, I will not be able to do this without your help. I thank you that you have given me your Holy Spirit, who is my Counselor and Helper. I can do what you have called me to do, if I lean upon, if I rely on you.
Tabitha’s attention returned to the podium. Dean Gunderson began introducing the staff and eventually made her way to Tabitha, the last in line.
Tabitha flushed as the attention of all present turned upon her. She tried not to shrivel under the scrutiny of so many eyes.
“Miss Hale is the school’s freshman proctor. She is, herself, a student near to graduation; however, she is near the top of her class and has earned the respect and esteem of the staff and administration.
“As proctor, Miss Hale’s primary responsibility will be to ensure, to the best of her ability, that not one of you falters or fails. She will monitor your progress and will advise and counsel you as needed. Her hours of availability will be posted on her office door. Please take advantage of them; you would do well to heed her guidance and instruction.”
Tabitha took her seat again and sat tall and still. The meeting went on for a while longer, with various staff members setting out the school rules and policies.
As she listened with only half of her interest, Tabitha was drawn to a young woman on the far right of the auditorium. She was fair and slender, perhaps even slight. It seemed to Tabitha that the girl had intentionally sat alone, for several unoccupied seats were between her and the next student in the row.
She hadn’t realized she was staring so intently until the girl nodded and smiled a shy acknowledgment. Tabitha started and then smiled back. Something about the girl resonated in Tabitha’s heart.
When the meeting ended, Tabitha followed Dean Gunderson’s instructions to mingle with the students and form some initial attachments. She did not have to try hard: The eager students lined up to introduce themselves and ask her questions. Tabitha tried her best to greet each of them with grace, but their trusting, practically adoring looks almost undid her.
Goodness, she sighed inside. This will take some getting used to. They act as though I am the answer to all their problems—when I am struggling just to learn their names!
Tabitha extended her hand to the next girl in line. “Good morning. Welcome to our school.”
“Good morning, Miss Hale. I am Claire Silverstine.”
There she was, that smiling, wan-looking girl, the one who had sat apart from the rest of the class.
Tabitha studied her. “Good morning, Miss Silverstine. I am pleased to meet you.”
“Thank you! The pleasure is mine.” She looked aside for a moment and then smiled and turned back to Tabitha. “I am not a freshman, actually. I had to drop out for health reasons at the end of my freshman year, so I am a second-year student. Do you remember me? We had a class together—Dr. Monroe’s anatomy.”
Tabitha frowned and tried to place her. “No . . . that is, perhaps? Have you lost a great deal of weight, Miss Silverstine?”
“Yes! You do remember me, then. Indeed, I was a bit on the chubby side then, but I have lost all my ‘baby fat’ as my brother calls it. And then some.”
“But are you quite well now? Has your stamina returned?” Tabitha examined her more closely, a little concerned.
“I have recovered from my illness, yes, although my strength is not yet what it once was. We shall see. God willing, I shall rise to meet expectations.”
“Please come see me if you find yourself struggling—or if you just wish to talk over your progress,” Tabitha offered. “Although you are not a freshman, I would be happy to help in any way . . . even pray with you.”
“I knew it,” Claire smiled wider. “I just knew you were a Christian when our eyes met earlier. Thank you. I will most certainly take advantage of your kind offer.”
She nodded a goodbye, still smiling. As Claire turned away, Tabitha smiled back and reached to greet the next student.
The term was vastly different than any previous term Tabitha had experienced. In some regards it was easier; in other respects Tabitha felt stretched to the breaking point.
Rather than a narrow bed in the open upper floor of one of the two freshman dormitories, Tabitha now had a small first-floor bedroom. Her room was adjacent to a tiny office, and the office had its own door that opened to the dormitory’s common area.
No sooner had she posted her office hours upon the office door—two hours each afternoon—than the signup sheet for each day began filling. Students could request time in increments of fifteen minutes but no more than thirty in a single session. Almost immediately, every minute was filled for the next two weeks.
Tabitha’s schedule presented new challenges, too. She worked her assigned hospital shifts in the evenings, with Dean Gunderson herself double-checking that Tabitha’s required obstetric, pediatric, and surgical hours were satisfied first.
The two specialty classes Tabitha had requested met in the mornings. That left late mornings and early afternoons for Tabitha to study before she unlocked her office for the scheduled appointments. The appointments themselves
opened her eyes to the diverse situations or issues confronting new students, problems that the students often viewed as insurmountable obstacles.
In that first week Tabitha realized that she also needed to allot sufficient time to tutor flagging freshmen. To that end, she established a study hall before breakfast. Then there were occasions where she needed to meet with Dean Gunderson for advice on how to address a particular student’s needs.
Fortunately, Tabitha had only the two classes. And only because I insisted on taking them, she recalled with wry semi-regret.
The first class Tabitha attended each morning was on public healthcare nursing, including the prevention and containment of contagious diseases. With the exception of herself, all the students were licensed, seasoned nurses.
If that class were not sufficient to illustrate Tabitha’s unusual position in the school, her second course, traumatic wound treatment, did the trick: The class was composed entirely of second-year medical students—all males. As the only woman amid the dozen young men, her classmates’ pointed stares and whispers made her discomfort worse.
Now I know what a lone grasshopper in a crowded chicken coop must feel like. She snorted to herself and shook her head.
Her discomfort remained until a second woman breezed into the room. Spying Tabitha, she slid into the seat next to her and held out her hand. “Cathy Worth,” she murmured. Her dark hair was cropped close to her head; her manner was brusque but pleasant.
“Tabitha Hale,” Tabitha whispered back. “Am I glad to meet you! I thought I would be the only nurse in this class.”
Cathy, fixing Tabitha with a cool, detached eye, replied, “You still are. I am a medical student.”
“Truly? Why, how wonderful,” Tabitha enthused—a little in awe.
“Yes, I am glad to be studying to be a doctor, Miss Hale. However, I would not describe the experience as wonderful.” Cathy graced Tabitha with a mock smile. “You will see as class goes along.”
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