Jan couldn’t help it. He chuckled and followed the chuckle with a booming belly laugh. He held up his hand apologetically, but kept laughing. When Norvald slanted his eyes toward Jan, he laughed harder.
Adolphe reddened and stood up. “Your behavior is extremely disrespectful, Herr Thoresen,” he snapped.
Jan made an effort to control himself. He looked around at the adults at the table, wiped his eyes, and then addressed himself to Adolphe.
“So, to be clear on this, Minister Veicht, you believe God has told you that because Karl is my older brother, I should give him my house, ja?” Ivan quickly translated Jan’s words to German.
“Yes. That is what—”
Jan interrupted him. “And you believe that because my wife and I have only two children, we won’t have any more? Is that also it?” Jan’s tone became cold. Ivan looked uneasily from Jan to Adolphe as he translated.
“As I said, I have prayed on this—”
Jan interrupted him again. “So—just to be clear—God did not tell you that my fru is expecting? That our family will soon be growing larger? That is surprising, nei?”
Adolphe reddened further, but Jan continued speaking.
“Let me tell you what I believe, Herr Veicht. I believe my brother’s house and my house are not your business. I believe how many children I have or my brother has is also not your concern. And, finally, I believe you have not heard from God on this matter. Shall I prove it to you?”
As Ivan translated, Jan stood up, went to the door, and bellowed for Karl. A few moments later, a puzzled Karl stepped into the room.
Adolphe had jumped to his feet again. “This is outrageous! You do not presume to speak to me, your minister, in such a way—”
Jan ignored him. “Karl, Minister Veicht had some interesting things to say to me just now. I will tell you, in front of Norvald Bruntrüllsen and our elders so that they may be witnesses to it.”
Jan faced Adolphe. “Minister Veicht tells me God has told him that, because you are the older brother and I am the younger brother, because you have more children than I do and have need of a larger house, I am to give you my house and build myself a smaller one on your property.”
He turned to Karl. “Bror, did you ask Minister Veicht to tell me this? Did you know he would ask such a thing?”
Karl’s jaw hung open. He swiveled from Jan to Adolphe and back. “What? What foolishness is this? You and I have already talked this over, ja? We will stay in your home another year until we can rebuild our house. It is not a problem.”
He growled and glared at Adolphe. “I have asked no such thing of Minister Veicht—nor would I!”
Jan slowly leaned toward Adolphe. “Herr Veicht, out of respect for your office, I will not take you outside and teach you not to use the Lord’s name in vain.
“But listen to me and listen well: Never again interfere in affairs over which God has not given you authority. The Bible teaches that the husband is the head of his home, sir, not the minister.
“And as a husband and father, I am no longer the younger brother you spoke of, Herr Veicht. You should know this, because the Bible also teaches, For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, and cleave to his wife. While I lived under my father’s roof I was the younger brother, but no more.
“I am the head of my own family. Never again interfere with that for which God has given me responsibility.” Jan’s gaze swept over each of the elders, one at a time, scorching the men with its intensity.
Rikkert spoke up hurriedly, “Brother Thoresen, we did not know. I am sorry.”
Jan nodded and then, giving Adolphe one last glare, turned on his heel and strode out the door. Karl, shaking his head, hurried after him.
“Brother, I had no idea,” Karl reassured him the fourth time. “I would not air our business before others! Surely you know this?”
“Ja, I know, Karl,” Jan answered for the fourth time. “But this explains Herr Veicht’s questions two weeks past, eh?”
The ride home had been completely silent with the exception of Karl and Jan repeating the same things to each other. Jan and Karl rode side-by-side on the wagon bench; the women and children rode in the back.
Jan glanced behind him and, seeing the children dozing, added quietly, “We have spoken of Herr Veicht before, Karl. I am troubled by where his leadership is taking our church, ja? Is this not a good example of what troubles me? Tomas would never have presumed such a thing.”
“But what would you have us do?” Karl asked, his lips pursed. They both knew their wives were listening to their conversation.
“Nei, I ask nothing. I am praying, especially for our elders. Herr Veicht could not have taken the leadership without a vote if the elders had held him to the congregation’s rules, ja? Now we must wait for God to show us the way, because I will have no part in strife or division.”
Jan realized then that Karl had not defended Adolphe as he had in the past. “You see now, do you not?”
“Ja,” Karl answered. “Ja, I do.”
He was silent a while. “Jan, I miss Tomas. My heart struggles to remember that to love the Lord is the most important thing. Instead I find myself asking what would Adolphe think of me or would this displease Adolphe? That is not right; I see that now.”
Karl was startled to feel Amalie’s hand on his elbow. He looked back at her and found tears in her eyes. “Tusen takk, my husband. I thank you for saying this so I could hear it! My heart has been starving for months.”
Jan and Karl looked to Elli. She was nodding in agreement. “Ja. Where is the joy we used to feel in our church? Look at Heidi!” Elli glanced down guiltily. “I do not wish to gossip, Karl. I only wish to say that Heidi is . . . is not allowed to, to express joy any longer.”
The four of them were silent the rest of the drive home.
~~**~~
Chapter 18
Elli knelt by the side of her and Jan’s bed and thanked God for the babe growing inside her. O Lord, you have heard my prayers and I am so grateful!
She rose and started to dress, thinking of her day and planning her tasks. She and Jan had decided not to tell anyone of the baby until Elli’s pregnancy was farther along, but Jan had told Minister Veicht and the elders—and Karl, Norvald, and Ivan had been present.
Elli smiled. Well, so the cat is out of the bag! She did not mind. She laid a gentle hand on her belly. Soon you will let the world know you are coming, eh? You are not yet five months old, but soon you will grow bigger and my belly will proudly announce you are coming.
That night Elli woke to a vague discomfort. She turned, trying to get comfortable. Instead, her back ached and would not allow her to return to sleep. She got up and walked around the room, rubbing at the ache. A moment later she gasped in pain. The cramping took her by surprise, but she recognized it for what it was.
“Nei, O Lord! Please keep this baby safe inside me!” she whispered. Despite her discomfort, she lay down, pulled her knees up, and remained still, hoping the cramps would ease.
Instead, she felt a warmth trickle between her legs. She shuddered and sobbed, wadding her nightgown and pressing it between her legs from where the warm flow came.
Jan woke to Elli’s sobs. “What is it?”
Elli’s whole body now shook, causing her teeth to chatter as she tried to answer. “The, the baby . . . the baby is coming! Too soon, too soon!”
Jan pulled on his trousers and ran upstairs to pound on Karl and Amalie’s door.
Hours later, Amalie uncovered the tiny remains and showed them to Elli and Jan. Jan stared at the tiny boy baby . . . no bigger than a tea cup but perfectly formed. He lifted the tiny fingers—so perfect—and stroked them. Then he gripped Elli’s hand and they wept together.
“Where is my mamma?” Kristen demanded. “What has happened? Everyone is sad!”
Jan looked at his two barn, his treasures. “Your mamma has lost the baby,” he said softly.
“What does that mean?” Kristen
insisted, her voice rising. “Where is the baby? Where has it gone?”
Jan took Kristen’s hand and held it between both of his. “It means the baby was born too soon, datter. He was too little to live, so his little spirit has gone to Jesus.”
Søren stared at the floor, but Jan could see him struggling with tears. Jan pulled Kristen onto his lap and reached out an arm to Søren. As he had wept with Elli, he now wept with his children.
Late that day Jan and Elli buried the baby on the gentle, east-facing slope near their apple trees. “Tomorrow the sun will rise and warm this ground,” Jan murmured. “It is such a pretty place! I will place a marker here for this little sønn of ours and we will see him again in heaven.”
Through the late summer months Elli cried her broken heart in Jan’s arms. During the day she did her duties and cared for Søren and Kristen.
But at night, she wept.
For weeks this had gone on. Until last night. Last night as she had cried in Jan’s arms, he had spoken words to her, words she did not like to hear but . . .
Elli’s tears stained the quilt that was spread across their bed. Lord, you have given us two beautiful children, children any mother or father would be proud to have.
She wiped her eyes and struggled on. I thank you for them, Lord. I have desired more children and I have asked you these eleven years to give us more babies, but they have not come, ja? Now I must surrender my desire to you, once and for all.
I know Jan and I are not too old, but Jan has said it best. I am wasting my life and joy pining over what I do not have, when I have so much! Now, for good, I must lay this desire of mine on your altar. If it dies, I will be content in your love. If, someday, you surprise us with another child, I will be just as content in your love.
She rested her forehead on the bed and waited, just waited. Do you have something to say to me, Lord?
Her heart picked up as she lingered, hoping to hear God speaking to her. Instead, a Scripture passage came to her.
For I was an hungred,
and ye gave me meat:
I was thirsty,
and ye gave me drink:
I was a stranger,
and ye took me in:
Naked,
and ye clothed me:
I was sick,
and ye visited me:
I was in prison,
and ye came unto me.
She covered her eyes with her hands, shutting out the light. O Lord, she breathed, I am waiting for you to speak to me! Another verse intruded on her thoughts.
Verily I say unto you,
Inasmuch as ye have done it
unto one of the least
of these my brethren,
ye have done it unto me.
Elli groaned. Yes, Lord. I know this. But I am waiting for you to speak to me!
When nothing but silence greeted her, she finally rubbed her face and stood up. “Oh,Fader,” she prayed aloud. “I give my babies to you. The babies I have longed to hold. The little sønn who is with you already. I trust you, Lord. I am ready to move on now.”
The Scriptures she had remembered earlier again resounded in her mind.
For I was an hungred,
and ye gave me meat:
I was thirsty,
and ye gave me drink!
Elli stopped short. Was this God speaking to her?
She thought for a long while; she pondered the number of families she knew who had struggled in the past year in some way. Could she do more to help them?
All right, Lord, she breathed. I am listening . . .
~~**~~
Chapter 19
1872
A year had passed since she lost the baby. Elli marked the anniversary in her heart, but she turned steadfastly from self-pity. She no longer allowed it a place in her life. It had been hard to do so at first, but she had persevered.
How she had grown in her walk with the Lord since that day, the day God had spoken so clearly to her!
Even with Amalie pregnant again, Elli no longer felt the sting of her own empty womb. Over the past year she had made it her undertaking to give herself to those in need, often nursing sick families or providing hot meals for them. I have found comfort in comforting others, she acknowledged.
Their whole farming community, indeed their state and bordering states, were struggling with drought. Two growing seasons without enough rain had left them with meager crops. Many families were barely getting by.
Tomorrow I must do something for the Beckers, Elli planned on the way home from the church meeting. Talbert and Maria must be struggling to care for their family right now!
The Beckers, another German family in the church, lived a few miles north and east of them. According to a nearer neighbor, all the Beckers except Talbert—Herr Becker—were sick.
“Maria had a baby only a few months back and now she is down with fever. Talbert is caring for her, the baby, and their other children,” the neighbor said, clearly concerned. “I did his chores yesterday and the day before and my wife has brought them several meals.”
Talbert must be pulling his hair out by the roots. Elli shook her head. When a wife was ill in bed, many a husband was at his wit’s end to feed and care for the sick wife and children. He must still manage his own chores, many which could not be neglected or put off.
The next morning, thinking to provide the sick family with a few nourishing meals, Elli doubled her bread making. While the loaves were rising, she cut onions and the butt of a leftover roast into small pieces and set them to braise in hot, melted fat.
While the onions and chunks of roast were sizzling, she scrubbed and cut up carrots, potatoes, cabbage, and turnips. She slowly added flour, water, and the drippings from the leftover roast to the meat and onions, stirring until the bubbling mess thickened.
Elli set a large pot on the stove and poured the meat, onions, and gravy into it. Then she added the chopped vegetables, and a jar of canned mixed vegetables—corn, lima beans, and chopped winter squash. She seasoned the stew with pepper, fresh sage, and rosemary and set it to simmer on a back burner.
In another pot she boiled a chicken for broth. You’re a tough old bird, she laughed to herself. But your meat will make a small chicken pie for us and your broth will feel good on sore throats, eh?
She took inventory of her preparations: Nourishing broth, my good stew, several loaves of fresh bread, a dish of butter, some cheese, and dried herbs for tea. That should keep them a day or so, she deliberated. Then, considering the number of Becker children, she began rolling out crust for pies.
Elli tripped down the cellar steps and hauled up a basket of apples. Two pies for them, two for us, she hummed.
Later, as she pulled the browned and bubbling pies from the oven, Elli saw Søren striding past the house on his way to the barn. She leaned out the back door and called to him. When he came near she asked, “Will you harness the bays for me in an hour? I want to take a hot meal to the Becker family.”
It will be an hour’s drive to take the food to them, she figured as she began packing the items she would take. I will stay only an hour so that I am back in plenty of time for supper.
The faint track to the Beckers’ farm was dry and Elli had no difficulty finding her way. The wagon sped along at a good clip until she pulled into the yard fronting the family’s small house.
Elli looked around and, frowning, recognized that the Beckers were in a worse way than she had thought. The rundown appearance of their house and barn bore stark testimony that they were struggling just to survive during these years of drought.
Elli knocked and, after several minutes, Talbert opened the door to her.
“Ach, you poor dears,” she commiserated as she stepped inside.
The few windows of the house were cloaked. The house was unbearably stuffy and Elli could scarcely see in the dim light.
“Please don’t open the curtains, Elli,” Talbert begged in German. He gestured to the windows and Elli understood.
“Maria has a bad headache and the light pains her so.”
Although she did not grasp the meaning of all his words Elli nodded. “I brought some hot food,” she answered him.
Coughing into his hand, he nodded his thanks and then disappeared into the back of the house. Elli had observed how poorly he looked himself.
It took Elli two trips from the wagon to the house to bring in the meals she had brought with her. She made her way to the little kitchen on her first trip and paused in shock.
Every dish in the house must be dirty, she realized in dismay. Before she could unpack the food and serve a meal, she would need to clean the kitchen.
She opened the back door for light, built up the fire, put the broth and clean water on to heat, and spent half an hour washing and tidying up. As she worked she heard children coughing and fussing weakly from a nearby bedroom.
When she finished cleaning the kitchen, Elli poured warm broth into mugs, set them and a lighted candle on a tray, and made her way toward the crying. She found four of the Becker children in a single bedroom.
The stench of urine and feces struck her.
Dear Lord! The children are not making it out of the room, let alone out of the house to use the necessary! She struggled to swallow the gorge that rose in her throat.
When she had mastered her reaction and set her mind to ignore the filth for the time being, Elli spooned broth into the children’s mouths. They cried piteously as the broth crossed their raw throats and she had to cajole them to take more.
The children coughed and complained of sore throats; they were also feverish and listless. Elli returned to the kitchen and filled the mugs with tepid water. It took her a long while to get the water down their raw and swollen little throats.
Elli realized she had already been at the Beckers’ far longer than an hour. I will be late getting home, she conceded, and it cannot be helped. I haven’t even seen Maria yet. And, dear God, the children’s room!
Wild Heart on the Prairie (A Prairie Heritage, Book 2) Page 14