No Distance Too Far

by Lauraine Snelling

  “Well, part of the problem,” Thorliff answered, “is that the surgery is not owned by the folks of Blessing. It is owned by my wife and me, and yes, it is inadequate. We didn’t dream Blessing was going to grow as it has and how it will grow even faster with new folks and new businesses coming to town. You know how far away Grafton and Grand Forks are.”

  Pastor Solberg stood. “I believe that God is blessing all the people around us and that we are being given a huge mission—to care for the sick and to use our prosperity wisely. As Jesus walked this earth, He healed the sick that came to Him. We have doctors who do what they can with their training and advances in medicine.”

  The discussion continued until sometime later, when Thorliff asked, “Is there anyone else who has something to say?” When no one answered, he nodded. “Since this is an informational meeting, I call it closed. You have agreed on who will speak for all of us as this project continues. I believe from everything that was said tonight, most of you are in favor of proceeding. We will keep you informed, and if you have any questions, ask me or send your questions to the newspaper.” He thanked the Chicago people for coming and dismissed the meeting.

  The citizens of Blessing filed out, continuing their discussions as they returned to their homes.

  “Thanks for taking Elizabeth home,” Thorliff said to Andrew and Joshua as they came back through the door. They had picked her chair up and carried her to the surgery and up the stairs to her bedroom, where Thelma helped her into bed.

  “You’re welcome.” Joshua looked around and smiled at Astrid.

  “I am amazed at the civility of this meeting. No one got up and yelled; no one left in a huff. Not everyone absolutely agreed, but they listened. You can tell that people here love their town and like working together.”

  “We’ve always worked together, from the very beginning. I’ll tell you there have been some rather strong debates and a few major disagreements, but Pastor Solberg has always been able to pour oil on troubled waters. I’d like to be listening on the party line later this evening or in the morning.” Haakan glanced at his wife, who smiled and shook her head at the same time. He crossed the room to shake the hands of the two men and thank them for coming. Then he turned to Dr. Morganstein.

  “You have made our lives richer by the lessons you’ve taught two of my daughters. I cannot thank you enough. I don’t begin to understand all the medical advances, but I do know farming. You plant the seed in the soil, pray for the right amounts of rain and sun, and be there to harvest at the right time. I think our two lines of work have a lot in common. God brings both the healing and the harvest, and we all do our part to the best of our ability.”

  “You speak very wisely, Mr. Bjorklund,” Dr. Morganstein said. “Thank you for giving me and my hospital the privilege of training the two doctors Bjorklund. I am so glad to see you again and in such better circumstances.”

  “Ja, my Ingeborg recovered well. Thank you that I still have her. I have our buggy outside to take you back to the boardinghouse if you are ready. I know you must be weary after a day like today.”

  “Weary, yes, but so excited at the prospects.” She looked to Mr. Josephson. “We will take you up on the ride, or at least I will.”

  Astrid walked them out. “I will see you again in the morning. Thank you.”

  “Good.” Dr. Morganstein took her arm. “I can see why you didn’t want to leave Blessing.” They walked to the buggy, and Haakan assisted the doctor into the seat.

  THE NEXT MORNING Mr. Josephson handed Thorliff a packet before they were to leave for the train and an envelope for Astrid. “We look forward to our joint venture, if possible.”

  After the farewells and the train had left, Astrid opened her envelope and scanned the contents. She handed it to Thorliff. “Does this say what I think it says?”

  He read the paper and looked into her eyes. “Perhaps it will be negotiable.”

  Astrid stared at the words that leaped out at her. This agreement is contingent upon the proviso that both Dr. Astrid Bjorklund and Dr.Elizabeth Bjorklund are in a position to oversee the hospital. What was she to do? Lord, is this your answer? Her heart cried out to say yes, but she knew that as God did not break His promises, she should not break hers. Here she was, caught in the middle, and she did not know which way to turn.

  30

  They know that I am committed to two years in Africa. Dr. Morganstein and I talked about that.” Astrid felt like tearing the letter into shreds and throwing it into the air for the wind to scatter. “Why wait and hand me a letter? Why not talk this over face-to-face?”

  “I don’t know.” Thorliff opened his packet and pulled out several sheets of paper. Glancing through them, he stopped at one that matched Astrid’s. “It is dated this morning, so it must have been a recent decision. There was no time for a discussion.”

  “ ‘Contingent upon.’ ” She humphed and stomped. “It’s going to take a year to build this anyway, is it not?”

  “Not necessarily. Once they finalize the purchase of the land, we can begin immediately. We would want the initial building set in for the winter, when we would finish it. The real contingency is having enough labor here to do both the hospital and machinery at once, plus houses for future residents. We need to put advertisements in newspapers here in North Dakota and as far away as Chicago and St. Louis, I would imagine. The Twin Cities for sure and others south.”

  Astrid listened to both her brother and her pounding head. “I’m going to talk with Elizabeth and then go out to see Mor. Or maybe I should telephone for her to come in so I am near the surgery if there is an emergency.”

  “You go talk with Elizabeth, and I’ll call Mor. Then I have to get this edition to bed. I’m going to have Samuel help with the printing tonight.”

  “All right.” Astrid climbed the three steps to the side porch and the surgery entrance. At least there was no one sitting on the bench waiting for her to open. As far as she knew, there were no appointments either. Glancing into the examining rooms to make sure they were ready for patients, she shut the doors and climbed the stairs to where she knew Elizabeth was waiting for any news she had to share. She certainly wasn’t expecting what Astrid had to say.

  She entered the bedroom, where Elizabeth was half lying on the settee in front of the window. A slight breeze billowed the sheer white curtains, wafting in summer fragrances, redolent with lilac, rich earth, and all manner of things growing.

  “I was beginning to think you had stopped off to talk with Sophie or something.”

  “No. Thorliff and I had a brief discussion about the bombshell we were given.” She dropped the letter into Elizabeth’s lap. “You better be feeling strong right now, for this is a shock.”

  Elizabeth pulled the letter out of the envelope and read through it, closing her eyes and heaving a sigh as she leaned against the back of the settee. “Shock is right.”

  Astrid crossed to the window and stared out toward the boardinghouse. Ringing hammers and the grate of a saw reminded her that building was indeed going on in Blessing. A man called instructions to someone else. It sounded like Toby. Children laughed and shouted from Sophie’s backyard, where Inga had gone to play too. The new swings that Garth had built for the children, along with a sandbox, were popular.

  She looked up to find Elizabeth staring at her. She sighed and turned to the door. “I need to talk with Mor. Thorliff said he’d call her and see if she can come in.”

  “I’d like to be in on the conversation.”

  “Okay.” Astrid heaved another sigh, a sudden attack of tears impending. “I need to go for a walk.”

  “I wish I could come with you.”

  “Me too. Have Thorliff take you down to the back porch, and in the meantime, I ask you to pray for this entire mess.”

  “All right.”

  “Mor is coming in,” Thorliff said when he met her at the bottom of the stairs. “She had to finish something first.”

  “I wish I could go
out and work in the garden for a while. I seem to hear God there.”

  “We have a garden,” he said. “The weeds are coming up after the rain so fast you can watch them grow.”

  Astrid glanced down at her dress. “I’ll go change.” Back up the stairs she pulled a faded dress out of the clothespress and swiftly changed, braiding her hair so it would stay out of her way. Down in the kitchen she donned a faded apron and headed outside, where she sat down on the steps and pulled off her shoes. Setting them aside, she took a trowel from the basket and crossed the recently cut grass to the garden plot. A hoe hung on the rail fence. Hoe or dig by hand? Which helped her think better?

  Wielding the hoe, she stuck the trowel into her pocket. Thorliff and Thelma had stuck sticks in at the ends of the rows with the name of the plant in charcoal. Astrid started with the potatoes, now well up and fighting for their lives. Thanks to the rain, the rich black soil was soft and pliable. The weeds fell under the slashing hoe as Astrid attacked the enemy.

  “If this is a sign from you, heavenly Father, I thank you for answering my prayers. But what about giving my word to Dean Highsmith? Why did I feel so led to go to missionary school? Wasn’t that a waste of time and money?” She jerked a handful of stubborn pigweed out and slammed the dirt end against the ground to dislodge the soil. When the roots were bare, she tossed the clump onto a pile she’d started along the fence. A stack of weeds kept the other weeds from sprouting, she’d learned.

  The song of a meadowlark caught her attention, and she looked up to find the bird, shading her eyes with her now dirt-crusted hand. Liquid joy, she’d heard a poet describe a meadowlark’s song.

  The longer she hoed, the more peace seeped in, until she finally stopped and kneaded her back with her fists. Hearing voices, she glanced back at the house to see Mor and Elizabeth visiting on the back porch.

  “Lemonade is on,” Elizabeth called.

  “I’m coming.” Astrid picked up and tossed the remaining weeds on the long pile. She stopped to inspect the peas in need of a trellis, as they were beginning to send out tendrils, smiled at the leaf lettuce about ready to pick, then hooked the hoe over the fence and returned to the house, wiping her dirty feet in the grass as she went.

  “Here’s a pan so you can dip out some rain water to wash in.” Ingeborg came down the steps to hand her one.

  “Takk.” Astrid dipped water from the rain barrel and sat down on the steps with it to wash her hands and feet.

  “Feel better?” her mother asked softly.

  “I do. There is something about killing weeds that frees the soul. The lettuce is about ready, the carrots are barely up, and some of the beans are pushing up. I know Thorliff won’t be stringing the peas tonight, so I think I will.”

  “Emmy and I were out in the garden this morning too. We strung the peas a few days ago. I dropped her off at Sophie’s to play with the others.” She handed Astrid a towel kept on a hook for just such instances.

  As they sat down, Elizabeth smiled. “I’m glad I’m not a weed.”

  “Me too.” Astrid took a healthy draught from her glass. “Leave it to Thelma to always know just when to provide relief.”

  “Your face is red.”

  “No doubt. I was in the sun.” She glanced at her mother. “And no, I did not wear a sunbonnet, as you can see.”

  “When did you ever?”

  Astrid nearly choked on her next swallow, laughter bubbling up in spite of herself.

  “How did your discussion with God go?” Elizabeth asked.

  “I am either writing or telephoning Mr. Josephson this afternoon— most likely I will write to him, since he is on the train and not in his office.”

  “To say?”

  “That I will be here in Blessing and that you are committed to regaining your strength, whatever it takes and however long it takes.” She looked at her mother to see her face shining with such love and joy that it brought a lump to her throat.

  “Thank you, Father.” Ingeborg sniffed and rolled her lips together. “I know my prayers have been selfish, but I thank God for this turn of events.”

  “Then I will have to write to Dean Highsmith, or call him, and explain the circumstances.” She heaved a sigh. “That will be the difficult one.”

  “So how do you feel about it?” asked Elizabeth.

  “I am running over with joy. I get to stay home, at least for now. Perhaps someday I will go to Africa.”

  “When you are married, and if your husband wants to go?”

  The three women laughed at the sally.

  “That one really irritated me,” Astrid said, picking up a molasses cookie. And if her husband was ever to be Joshua, she couldn’t see him willing to go to Africa. She frowned a little. Did she know how he felt about her being a doctor? Had they ever discussed it?

  Ingeborg and Elizabeth exchanged smiles. “We understood that part.”

  “I’m going to change clothes and, if there is no one in the waiting room, go write my letters. That way I can get them in the mail today. Thank you for coming, Mor. I was sure you were going to have to convince me of what to do.”

  “Convincing always works better when God does it.”

  Astrid nodded as she opened the kitchen door. “Sure smells good in here.”

  Thelma turned from the stove. “Dinner will be ready in half an hour.” She eyed the dirty apron and dress.

  “I know. I’m on my way upstairs to wash and change. Thanks for the lemonade.” She realized she was humming as she mounted the stairs. Did this sense of peace bring on the hums? Once clean again, she sat down and quickly wrote the letter to Mr. Josephson. The letter to Dean Highsmith took more time.

  After the salutation she wrote:

  It is with deep regret I am writing to ask you to remove my name from the program. Due to a string of events, I realized that I need to be here in Blessing, at least for the next several years. As you know, we are on the verge of building a hospital here, and the foundation in Chicago said the plan was contingent upon the two Bjorklund doctors being here to run it. This contingency was a shock to all of us.

  She stopped and stared at that line. Was it necessary? She almost crossed it out but then continued.

  Perhaps sometime in the future I will be able to continue with service in Africa or some other place. Thank you for all that you have done for me, for your encouragement, and for the time I spent at your school.

  In the Master’s service,

  Dr. Astrid Bjorklund

  She stared at the final lines. That was indeed appropriate, for she was and would always be.

  The others were halfway finished with dinner on the porch when Thorliff strode up the walk from the newspaper office on the other side of the carriage house. “Sorry I am late, but I had to finish the last article.” He served himself from the bowls and platters handed to him. “This smells wonderful, Thelma. Thank you.” After a few bites he looked to Astrid. “Garden looks great.”

  “Thank you. Lots more to go.”

  “There’s always work to be done in the garden. It’s a good way to work out frustrations.”

  “Really? I never knew that.” Astrid’s eyebrows tickled the wisps of hair that fell over her forehead. They all laughed at her arched response, but the look she shared with her brother invited him to join her in her newfound peace.

  Later, after tending to a farmer with a swollen jaw and pulling the offending tooth, Astrid picked up her letters and walked over to the post office.

  “You are just in time,” Mrs. Valders said. “In fact, if you would take the mail pouch over to the train, I would be most grateful. My foot will be grateful too.”

  “Of course I will, but what is wrong with your foot?”

  Mrs. Valders ignored her question when another patron walked in.

  Astrid slung the pouch over her shoulder, walked over to the station, and handed it to the stationmaster. He hung it on the hook by the tracks, and they both stood watching the train grow to life-size, smoke t
railing from the stack and steam screaming from the locked wheels. Several people stepped off the train while the engineer swung the water spout over the engine and opened the trap for the water to gush into the boiler. Another man swapped the incoming mail for the outgoing and tossed the full bag to the stationmaster.

  “You want to take this to Mrs. Valders?” he asked.

  “I will. Thanks.” Astrid crossed the street again and swung the bag up onto the counter. “All right, now tell me about your foot.”

  “It will be better soon. I think I just sprained it.” She pulled back her skirt to show a swollen right foot. “See? I told you, nothing to worry about.”

  “How about you sit down and let me make that decision.” Astrid pointed to the chair behind the counter. “You can sort mail while I check your foot.”

  Mrs. Valders grumbled but did as she was instructed. She flinched when Astrid removed the shoe and pressed around the ankle and the arch with gentle fingers.

  “Hurts, eh?” She rotated the foot to check the ankle. “Did you put ice on this?”

  “No. It’s not that bad.”

  “You need to put ice packs on it three times a day and elevate it for the swelling to go away.”

  “How am I supposed to elevate my foot when I am running around here like a chicken with my head cut off?”

  “What happened?”

  “I tripped over Benny’s scooter. It wasn’t his fault. I just wasn’t paying attention.”

  Astrid nodded, making sure her doctor face was in place. –Hildegunn Valders sticking up for Benny? Wait until she told her mother.

  “Okay, how about we do this? You put ice packs on the foot in the morning, at noon, and when you close up the post office. When you are here, you do as much as you can sitting down. Use that stool sometimes too, and we’ll wrap your foot with strips of an old sheet.”

  “Thank you. Say, that was a good meeting last night.”

  “Yes, I thought so too.” Astrid got to her feet. “I’ll get some bandages and be right back.”