Forever My Own

by Tracie Peterson

  But it was Kirstin who was really making him feel out of sorts. She wouldn’t come to play checkers or read to him. She wouldn’t speak more than two or three words when she came to help Lena change the bed and tidy the room. She was angry, and Ilian had never known a woman to be angry with him. It troubled him deeply.

  “Well, I’m sure you’re glad to have that cast off,” Lena said, bringing him his lunch. She put the tray on the table beside him, then pulled it closer so he could reach it without difficulty. “There’s a hint of warmth in the air today. Makes me think of spring and planting a garden.”

  “Too early for that,” Ilian said, smiling. “What have you made me today?”

  “Oh, this is just some of that fish and potatoes hotdish left over from last night. You seemed to like it, so I thought maybe you’d be willing to eat it another day.”

  “I am happy to eat whatever you give me. In fact, I have some money for you. I keep forgetting to give it to you.”

  “Money? Whatever for?” Lena asked as she went about looking for anything in the room that needed her attention.

  “You’ve taken care of me for nearly two months now. You need to be reimbursed.”

  “Your far has already taken care of that many times over. I told him no, just as I’m telling you, but he didn’t listen.”

  Ilian frowned. “Far isn’t responsible for my debts.”

  “I know that well enough,” Lena said, coming to stand in front of him. “He knows it too. He was just being kind, and I don’t want you making him feel bad for it.”

  Ilian was surprised by her comment. It was very nearly a reprimand. She was starting to sound like Kirstin.

  “I don’t plan to make anyone feel bad for anything, but I do believe in paying my own debts.”

  Lena nodded. “Then you take that up with him.” She gave him a broad smile. “I forgot to bring the applesauce. Let me fetch it.”

  “No, please wait.” Ilian didn’t want there to be any problems between him and Lena. “I’m sorry if I was harsh. You know things are difficult between Far and me.”

  “I do.”

  Ilian looked past her to the papered wall. “I . . . well, I am glad he kept up with the debt. I hadn’t really thought about it until recently because of the pain and frustration of being bedfast. I apologize for that, because I’m sure the added cost of my being here wasn’t easy for you without someone to provide for you.”

  “Nonsense. God provides for me and always has. And you’ve been very little trouble. Oh, you eat more than Kirstin and I, but Domar does too, and he gives me money all the time, well beyond what he eats. Your father is always looking out for me, even before you came to stay here.”

  “I know. You care about each other very much.”

  “We do.” Lena drew a deep breath. “You’d do well to figure out how to care about each other before it’s too late. Man has only so many years on this earth, and you never know which will be your last. You might think you can make things right later rather than sooner, but sometimes that isn’t the opportunity we get.”

  “But you know how things were. You knew my mother.”

  “Ilian, I did know your mother, and a more bitter and selfish woman I never met.”

  His jaw dropped, and Lena continued.

  “I can see you never expected me to say such a thing, and usually I am not one to speak ill of the dead, but in all my time with her . . . that was what I knew of her. She had no forgiveness in her heart. No kindness toward her husband and certainly no love. It can’t be easy to live without love, but your father had it from neither of you, and yet he continued to work hard to support you both and to show nothing but generosity. I never heard him raise his voice to your mother, and you know we live close enough to very nearly hear each other’s whispers. Yet I heard her nag and rail at him, screaming at the top of her lungs. It was embarrassing to witness it, and I felt sorry for her, but as a married woman, she should have respected her husband and at least allowed him his dignity.”

  Ilian was taken aback. That wasn’t what he remembered of his mother. He remembered her tears and quiet sorrows. Her misery. Oh, there were fights, to be sure, and yes, if he was honest, she started most of them and fought on long after his father wished to end it. Ilian had always told himself that was because his father didn’t care enough to understand her feelings, but maybe it was because there was nothing he could say or do to make her feel better.

  “I know you loved her,” Lena said, coming to his side. “I don’t want you to stop. But you need to rethink the past and realize she was a bitter person. She made everyone around her feel it, and if you are honest with yourself, you’ll see that her bitterness is what you feel for your father. Your father never wronged you. He went out of his way to be a good man to you—a good example. He loved you very much. He loves you now. You’ve never even tried to embrace his love, but it’s always been there for you.” She patted his shoulder. “There is no worse regret and sadness than having the power to make a thing right but leaving it undone and then finding it too late.” She didn’t wait for his response but headed for the door. “I’ll get your applesauce.”

  Ilian continued to stare at the door even after she returned with the applesauce and then left again. He was humbled by her words, knowing it to be true that he’d never given his father a chance to be right in any situation. He had heard some of his father’s point of view regarding the lack of money to travel, the poor timing or inability to get away from work, but Ilian had never really seen any of that as valid. They were excuses, nothing more.

  He picked up his fork and thought of Domar. His friend would advise Ilian to take it to God, to pray about it, but prayer had never meant much to Ilian. He’d never believed God had actual time or interest to listen to His creation.

  But maybe he’d been wrong about that. Maybe he was wrong about a lot of things.

  That afternoon Pastor Persson from the Swedish Methodist Church came to visit. In the past Ilian had wanted nothing more than a passing nod from the preacher, but today he had questions for the man of God.

  Lena seemed just as content to set up the visitation in Ilian’s bedroom as to hold it in the living room. Even Kirstin joined them, much to Ilian’s surprise. She looked so pretty with her hair braided down her back and covered with a simple white cap. She wore a traditional Swedish outfit with her skirt, blouse, and vest done in colors of blue, green, and pale yellow.

  “So there, how ya doing today?” Pastor Persson asked Lena once he was settled in his chair. “You weren’t in church the week before, and I didn’t see you on Sunday either. I feared perhaps Mr. Farstad had suffered a setback.”

  “Actually, no,” Lena answered before anyone else could. “Kirstin and I were there this week, but we sat behind the DeGroots. You know how tall all those boys are, and because of Ilian, we hurried home right after the service.” She grinned. “The week before, however, we played hooky. I had so much to accomplish before my grandson Domar headed back to the logging camp that we made the next day our Sabbath.”

  “Oh, I’m relieved to hear that. It’s not usual for you to be gone. I would have come to visit last week, but I had a cold and didn’t want to spread it to my congregation.”

  “And now are you feeling better?” Kirstin asked.

  “I am. Thank you. A little hot tea and rest and I’m right as can be. Ilian, I see you have your arm back.”

  Ilian nodded. “I do, and it’s a great relief. I’m hoping soon they’ll take off the leg cast as well.”

  “The doctor is quite pleased with his progress.” Lena got to her feet. “I’m going to check on our tea and cookies. Kirstin, why don’t you come help me, and then Ilian and Pastor Persson can get caught up on all that talk men like to discuss.”

  The ladies left, and Ilian couldn’t help but smile. “Do you have anything to talk about? If not, I have some questions.”

  The pastor smiled. “Go right ahead.”

  Ilian wasted no time. “M
y mother was something of a Deist, and I fashioned my beliefs after hers. I don’t consider myself to be a Deist . . . really I don’t consider myself much of anything when it comes to religion. I believed in a Creator. I didn’t believe in prayer, except perhaps to praise Him for what He had created, but otherwise I found it useless to expect He would be involved in our requests.”

  “I’m very familiar with the Deist way of thinking,” Persson declared. “I had an uncle who practiced that way of belief.”

  “Then, of course, you understand.” Ilian shook his head. “But Lena and her family aren’t of that thinking. They believe God is active in our lives. They see prayer as a way to be in constant communication with God. They believe God sent Jesus to save us from our sins and that the Bible is a book written by men who were given words from God. I’ve never thought such a thing, but of late I am rather comforted to think that might be true.”

  “Is it so hard to believe that a Creator could have created a book of history, laws, and His desires for mankind? He is very logical in that way, no? After all, He would surely know that chaos would ensue without directions for order. The Bible is filled with logic and reason, as the Deist mind would surely appreciate.”

  “But shouldn’t truth be subject to the authority of human reason? After all, we were created by God. . . . Is it not also true that He gave us the ability to reason for ourselves?”

  “But should there not be one profound and righteous truth over all reasoning? And shouldn’t that be God’s truth—His wisdom?” Pastor Persson took out his Bible and opened it. After flipping through the pages, he paused. “This is from First Corinthians, chapter one. Paul is encouraging the people to be of one mind in God. He’s telling them how important unity is and how little value the wisdom of the world holds. He says here in verse nineteen, ‘For it is written, I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and will bring to nothing the understanding of the prudent. Where is the wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the disputer of this world? Hath not God made foolish the wisdom of this world? For after that in the wisdom of God the world by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe.’ Later, starting in verse twenty-five, Paul says, ‘Because the foolishness of God is wiser than men; and the weakness of God is stronger than men. For ye see your calling, brethren, how that not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called: But God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty; And base things of the world, and things which are despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things which are not, to bring to nought things that are: That no flesh should glory in his presence.’”

  Ilian sat back for a moment and considered the Scriptures. “I don’t think I understand.”

  “Logic and reasoning have no power over what is most important. Wisdom cannot save you, Ilian. Only the cross can do that. Man may reason and speak from his authority all he likes, but he doesn’t realize it has already failed him.”

  “So we put aside my reasoning . . . my logical conclusions. Then tell me this: I hear Domar talk about his relationship with God. Tell me why Christians believe in God as their Father, in Jesus as their Savior, and the Holy Ghost as one who counsels and offers comfort.”

  Pastor Persson smiled. “You want me to tie it all up in an easy-to-understand package, eh?”

  “That would be very nice,” Ilian said, chuckling in spite of himself.

  “It really isn’t that hard. Love is at the core of it all. You believe God is perhaps indifferent. The Bible tells us otherwise. The Bible tells us that God is love, and everything about Him proves that to be true. The sinful nature of man has corrupted God’s creation. Sometimes the illogical reasonings of those who believe they know better are a stumbling block that creates chaos. God is love. That is at the very heart of relationship, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I suppose. The love of a man and woman draws them together. The love of mother and child bonds them in a way that is like no other. The love of friends for one another causes them to go above and beyond what they might do for a stranger. Love is powerful in a relationship.”

  The older man smiled. “God is powerful in a relationship, because He is love in its purest form. When sin entered the world and mankind was corrupted and turned from God, He did not stand by indifferent. We are His children. A parent who loves His own is not going to give them up. So God sent His son, Jesus, to give us a way to reconcile our relationship. The very source of love sent love to prove His love for us, even while we were still sinners.”

  The words stirred something in Ilian’s heart. “And this love is what we find at the cross? A love that will have no ending?”

  The pastor nodded. “How could it end? God’s very nature is love. Love would only die if God died, and He cannot. He goes on forever with no beginning and no end. Jesus died on the cross as an act of love, but He rose from the grave in an even greater truth of love. His love has not only conquered death—it has given us eternal life with Him.”

  “Here we are, gentlemen,” Lena said, bringing in a tray with tea and cups. Behind her, Kirstin carried a plate of cookies. Lena set the tray on the dresser. “Just put the cookies on the bed where they can reach them.”

  Kirstin came closer to Ilian. She refused to look at him, as she had before, but this time Ilian didn’t mind. His thoughts were full of what Pastor Persson had just told him. It seemed to make so much sense. Sense that hadn’t been there before.

  Lena handed the pastor and Ilian each a cup of tea. “Were you having a good discussion?”

  Ilian tensed. He didn’t really mind Lena knowing about their talk, but he was still trying to understand, and he didn’t need anything complicating the matter for him.

  Pastor Persson smiled. “Of course. I always enjoy discussing the world around us. Ilian will be more than happy when his recovery is complete, I’m sure, and by then perhaps we can take a walk and enjoy the spring. It will be here before we know it.”

  “Oh, I know. I long for it,” Lena agreed. “I get a hint of warmth, and I want to be digging in the dirt and planting seeds. My chickens long for it as well.”

  “All creation no doubt longs for it.”

  Ilian relaxed and sipped the tea. He didn’t know if Pastor Persson understood his feelings or not, but he appreciated the man’s discretion.

  They chatted for another ten minutes or so until the pastor announced he should be moving on. He allowed Lena to wrap a half-dozen cookies for him to take home and then bid them good-bye.

  Kirstin was left to clean up as Lena escorted the pastor to the door. Ilian took the opportunity to make his apology.

  “I’m sorry for the way I acted.”

  She looked at him, not speaking nor changing her expression.

  “I know I was harsh, and I have no right to tell you who you can be friends with. That was ungracious of me.”

  “It was mean and selfish,” she snapped back.

  He might have smiled at her spunkiness at another time, but right now he merely nodded. “You’re right.”

  She relaxed her blank expression with just a hint of a smile.

  “I hope you’ll forgive me. I never meant to dictate who could be your friend. The road I’ve walked with my father has been difficult, but I am rethinking the past, and partly because of your influence. But I don’t want to be pestered about it. I must come to it in my own way.”

  “I can be pushy,” she murmured. “I recognize that. I like to fix things and make bad situations good.”

  “So can we clear the slate between us and start again? I’m not asking you to be my friend, but maybe we could be at peace with each other and work toward that possibility.”

  Kirstin nodded. “I’d like that.”

  Ilian’s apology had taken Kirstin by surprise. He had never seemed like the kind of man who was willing to apologize. That afternoon she took a walk near the water. T
he air was still cold but not quite so bitter. She had always liked the water. Rivers, creeks, lakes, oceans. It didn’t matter. Water represented the possibility of things to come. After she thought Domar had been lost at sea, she’d held it in less regard, but now she thought it was appropriate. That vast ocean had presented her with possibilities she had never thought could be. On her own trip to America, she had gazed out from the deck at the greatness of the Atlantic. For days there was no end in sight, and they were but a tiny island floating across the mass of water in search of something more substantial. She remembered feeling that was a good picture of her own life.

  “Miss Segerson.”

  Kirstin turned at the familiar voice. “Hallberg, Mr. Webster. I’m Kirstin Hallberg. My grandmother is my mother’s mother, which is why she is my mormor. If she were my father’s mother, she’d be my farmor.” She thought it very rude that he hadn’t bothered to remember her name.

  He smiled. “I speak no language save English. It’s served me well enough over the years, but at times like these, I find such information fascinating.”

  Kirstin shrugged. “What can I do for you?”

  “I wondered if you’d talked to your grandmother about selling.”

  “We’ve discussed the situation several times, but as she’s told you, she’s not interested. This is her home, and she’s quite content. Besides, it’s winter, and no one who has a choice would move during the coldest months.”

  “Well, my thought was that the residents could have until May to move. It will warm up by then for sure.” He smiled as though he had just offered her a grand gesture.

  Kirstin looked at the surrounding neighborhood. “The people here love their homes. Why would you take that away from them, Mr. Webster? Have you never loved something enough to fight for it?”