From This Day Forward

by Lauraine Snelling

  “Please, we must,” she had urged her daughter.

  “Mor, I don’t want to go through another time like that with him.”

  “I understand, but please. One step at a time. This has gone on too long.”

  “Forgiveness has to go both ways.”

  John had asked Ingeborg to pray a few days ago, as he was meeting with Thorliff, and she had. But neither had said what happened. Not that John had had time for much with school starting. And helping Amelia get ready to teach.

  When Ingeborg heard the school bell releasing the students, she took her basket and walked to the church.

  Astrid met her halfway. “Here, let me take that.” She sneaked a peek into the basket. “Oh, gingerbread. I’ve not had that for a long time.”

  “How are things going to go with Amelia teaching school?”

  “I told her I would help with the cooking. Especially now that Mrs. Korsheski has left us. Mor, she is such an amazing woman.”

  “I know. All these years and she finally came to Blessing. We are so privileged.” Ingeborg waved at the schoolchildren. “When does Deborah leave? I thought it was going to be August.”

  “It was going to be September. But after Mrs. Korsheski watched us working here, she said Deborah’s skills are advanced beyond the course she would have taken. Instead, she’s now enrolled in a special course that starts the first of October. While I want her to have the training, her absence will leave a mighty big hole.”

  As they neared the church, Astrid started dragging her feet. “I don’t know why I feel so hesitant.”

  “You don’t want to be hurt again.”

  “I’m trusting you, Mor, that that won’t be the case.”

  “For that, I am trusting God. I thought perhaps we could just sit up by the altar and pray until the other two get here.”

  Ingeborg paused when they entered the sanctuary. Sun slanted through the south-facing stained-glass window, the blues and reds glowing on the floor too. The white altar beckoned them forward, the hush embracing them as they dragged four chairs together and set them in a circle. They took their seats and Ingeborg closed her eyes, the better to listen. The voices of children, laughing and calling, floated in the open window along with the song of a meadowlark lilting on the air.

  Lord, help us to hear your voice. Holy Spirit, bring peace and harmony—and healing.

  She heard John greet Thorliff before they reached the steps to the front door.

  “I sure hope this works, Mor,” Astrid whispered.

  “Me too.” Ingeborg stood to greet the men. “Welcome to the most peaceful place in Blessing.”

  John smiled. “That it seems. After our first day back at school, I can use some peace.”

  “How did it go?”

  “Well, actually. Anton Gendarme mesmerized his students, and those that weren’t in his classes were actually jealous.”

  Thorliff very obviously was avoiding looking at Astrid. “I sent out the ads for another teacher. Talked with the editor of the Grand Forks paper, and he agreed to run a short article. Did you by any chance contact the district superintendent’s office to put in a plea?” he asked as he sat down in the far chair.

  “I did and he said he’d keep his eyes open. Obviously there were no candidates in the file.” John scrubbed his thinning hair back. “We really need someone to do some office work at the school too. Teaching and principaling are getting too complicated.” He smiled at them all. “Enough about school problems. It’s nothing we can’t handle.”

  He took his chair and relaxed against the back. “Ingeborg, I think you are right about the peace here. How about we all just sit quietly for a while and then I’ll open with prayer?”

  Ingeborg nodded and closed her eyes, the better to think and pray. She could feel Astrid relax beside her. Across the small circle, Thorliff settled in. Lord Jesus, thank you for being here. So there are five of us and you know our hearts and our needs far better than we do.

  One of the men blew out a breath and inhaled gently. A breeze from the open door felt cool, as if an unseen hand were waving a fan. She could feel herself melting into the chair.

  “Holy Father, thank you for the peace we are finding here. Speak, please, to our hearts that we might know your wisdom. You bring healing wherever you go. Thank you and amen.”

  The ensuing silence continued the peace.

  Thorliff cleared his throat. “Lord, as Mor said, I have been blaming you for taking Elizabeth when I . . . we needed her so. So unfair, and in my mind, cruel, especially to me and my children. I know I’ve been like a wounded dog, lashing out at my family, my friends, whoever got in my way. I see that I am bitter and angry and I—”

  Ingeborg wiped her eyes. Lord, help my son. She heard Astrid sniff beside her.

  “Elizabeth must be so ashamed of me.” He paused. “John, what do I do?”

  “You seem to be doing just fine to me.”

  “I am so tired.” Thorliff’s voice broke. “So tired.”

  Astrid dug in her reticule for a handkerchief and blew her nose. She eased her hand into her mother’s. And clung.

  “According to God’s Word, it is necessary to ask for forgiveness from those we have wounded,” John said.

  “That’s probably half of Blessing.” Thorliff pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped his face. “I lost my father and then my wife. I wanted to go talk to Pa so badly. Two of the most important people in my life. But then I look at Mor. She has moved on.” He propped his elbows on his knees. “Other people have moved through the grief. As Astrid said, it is time for me to do the same.”

  “Ja, you are on the right track.”

  Thorliff reached across the space for Astrid’s hand. “Please forgive me. You were right. I just hope it isn’t too late.”

  Astrid squeezed his hand. “Too late for what?”

  “To be your big brother again. To be the pa my two children need.”

  “You never quit being my big brother. Yes, I forgive you, but you have to do the same for me. I should not have exploded at you like that.”

  “I think you needed to. I was being extremely hard of hearing.” He nodded. “Like John says at communion, you are forgiven.”

  They rested in the silence.

  “I asked for Christ’s forgiveness Sunday at communion, and this time it wasn’t just saying the words,” Thorliff said. “And the verse ‘and while we were yet sinners,’ that meant me. I have sinned against Him by thought, word, and deed. No longer just words to say on Sunday.”

  “Sometimes our lives need to nearly be destroyed before we realize He died for us. Each of us,” Pastor Solberg said.

  “Mor, thank you for all your prayers. I knew you would never quit loving me.”

  “Good. Then more of my prayers were answered.” Ingeborg’s handkerchief was soaked. “Inga has prayed for you every night too, as has Emmy.”

  Solberg nodded. “And I don’t know how many others as well. And Thorliff, we’ll keep praying for you. Grief will try to strangle you again. It hits you out of the blue at times. You won’t forget Elizabeth, but the pain will go away, bit by bit, now that you are willing to let it go.”

  Ingeborg had a little trouble speaking. “And the good memories will return. Talk to your children about their mother, especially Inga. She is so bright. Poor little Rolly will only remember what you—what we all tell him about his mother.”

  Thorliff looked utterly broken. “Thelma is another one who has borne the brunt of my actions. I will take care of that too.”

  Another pause that was no longer uncomfortable.

  “Thorliff, my son,” Ingeborg said, “be gentle with yourself. I learned that the hard way, and I pray you have, and will too. Someone once said, ‘Two steps forward, one step back.’ Talk to us, your family, when you need to. I regret I did not share more about Roald with you. Hard work helps one deal with grief, but it is not the healer. Love is.”

  “I think we can close with prayer, unless
someone has something else needing to be said?” When they all shook their heads, John blew out a breath and waited for the peace to settle again. “Thank you, Lord God. You are here with us, around us and in us with your healing love and touch.” He laid his hand on Thorliff’s shoulder. “Thank you for this son of yours, for bringing healing and newness of life, for the forgiveness we all count on. Draw him and all of us ever closer to you. In Jesus’ precious name we pray, amen.”

  They all stood, and Thorliff shook John’s hand. “Thank you. You have no idea how much I was dreading this.”

  “Oh, I have a pretty good idea. But again, I have had the privilege of watching our God in action through these years. Ingeborg and I say this so often: We pray and ask, and then the best thing is to step back and let God do His work.”

  “Thank you, Mor.” Thorliff hugged her and turned to Astrid. “Thank you for braving the lions’ den and being treated so badly.”

  Astrid wrapped her arms around his rib cage and hugged him. “I don’t ever want something like this to happen again. If we can’t get along, how can we expect others to?”

  “How about we drop you off at your house and I’ll walk Mor home?”

  “How about we both walk her home and then you can walk me home? I need to walk more, not just around the hospital. That’s what I tell my expectant mothers, and this doctor better take her own advice.”

  “Or her mother will be sure to remind her.”

  “Remember, Thorliff, I am always here to listen.” Pastor Solberg shut the church door behind them. He settled his hat on his head and, with a smile, started for home.

  “Do you suppose Rebecca’s is still open? A soda sounds awfully good right now.” Thorliff looked from his mother to his sister. “That is, if you have time.”

  “We can take time.” Ingeborg locked her arms through her children’s. “I haven’t had a soda since . . . since I don’t know when. The way I feel right now, we should throw a party for all of Blessing.”

  Chapter 28

  May I walk you home?” Anton asked Deborah after church.

  She returned his smile. “It’s not very far, you know.”

  “We could make it farther.”

  She turned as Samuel stopped beside them. “Hi, Deborah. Anton, we’re playing ball at the field after dinner. Tante Ingeborg has an open invitation to dinner there, if you’d like to come.”

  “Thank you. I’ll see about dinner.”

  “Deborah, you can come too, you know.”

  “We’ll see.” She watched Samuel wave and stride off, stopping to talk with Thorliff.

  “Shall we start?” Anton asked.

  Why doesn’t Toby ever do this? She ignored the fleeting thought. Most of the people were still visiting in front of the church, including her ma, who nodded when she caught her eye. Deborah and Anton headed north but turned at the new street, as everyone called it, and headed toward the river.

  “So how is school going?” she asked.

  “My uncle David said I would find the students here excited to learn. He was so right. I have a feeling I can change my plans about what to offer and proceed faster than I had thought. That’s exciting for a schoolteacher.”

  “And you are teaching algebra to the older grades, along with a science, geometry, and ancient history?”

  “Yes. The only problem is that it’s hard to get used to having someone sign for me. I asked Grace if she would teach me, so we started doing that in the evening. I’ve never taught where there are deaf students.”

  “Interesting. We all take that for granted since we’ve been signing since we could talk. Well, not me, since I wasn’t born here, but my sister, Manda, and I learned right away.”

  “Really? I thought you’d lived here all your life.”

  “No, Ma’s brother, Zeb MacCallister, found us in a dugout near the Missouri River. Our mother had died and our father left one day and never came back. We were both very nearly starving, and I was very sick, so he brought us here to Blessing.”

  He stared at her. “I have a feeling there are a lot of interesting stories in Blessing.”

  “There are indeed.” The breeze lifted the brim of her straw hat and blew the end of the ribbon around her neck. “What was your life like?”

  “Boring in comparison with yours. As I mentioned at the box social, I have two sisters and two brothers, I went to boarding school for high school, and then to college. My brothers are now at that school.”

  “Your sisters?” They stopped at the junction. “Which way?”

  “Would you like to go to Mrs. Bjorklund’s for dinner?”

  “I think not today. Ma said I should invite you to our house, if you had no other invitations.” She shook her head. “I mean—I said that wrong.”

  “I think I’d like that. I enjoy your family.”

  They strolled past the newspaper office and Astrid’s house, where Amelia waved from the porch.

  “Come sit a while,” she invited.

  Deborah waved back. “Thank you, but not today.”

  “You all take this so . . . so nonchalantly. This would never happen at the Gendarme home.”

  “Really? What?”

  “Oh, people inviting you to come to dinner after church, or just stopping to visit, or . . .” He shook his head. “So very different.”

  “Different is good—I guess.” Deborah waved at Rebecca as they passed the Soda Shoppe and then the Blessing Mercantile before turning toward the MacCallister ranch.

  “So this is your ranch?”

  “No, my pa’s. Zeb adopted Manda and me, then after his wife, Katy, died, they all headed to Montana to raise horses, and he asked the Solbergs if they would live here and keep me, as I was too young to go with them.”

  “That must have been difficult for you.”

  “At least I didn’t get sent off to boarding school.”

  “I got a good education, and we spent the summers as a family at the beach house.” He paused. “That’s just what people around us did.”

  Deborah remembered some of Grace’s comments about life in New York City, where Jonathan grew up. “Do the Goulds have a beach house too?”

  “Yes, right next to ours. Our houses in the city are near each other too. That’s why Jonathan and I became such good friends.”

  “Sounds like things I’ve read about in books. I guess I’ll get my taste of city living when I go to Chicago.”

  “I heard you were leaving in September but that got changed.”

  “Yes. The course of study I will be taking will begin October first.” She paused. They had reached the house. “You are staying for dinner?”

  Emily burst out the door and stopped in front of her, whining. “Deborah, can you please retie my bow? Thomas pulled on it, and it untied.”

  Giggling, Deborah retied the bow, and Emily ran back inside. Deborah turned to Anton, ushering him in the door. “Welcome to family life, Blessing style. Come, we’ll probably be eating out on the back porch, where it is cooler. Fall seems to be taking its own sweet time coming.”

  John looked up from the catcher’s mitt he was relacing for Mark. “Welcome. You do plan to play ball, don’t you? They’ve asked me to umpire, since Lars is off harvesting.”

  “Uh, I suppose so. Athletics were not my best pursuit,” Anton admitted.

  “Then you’ll fit right in here. Most of us, the athletics pursue us.”

  Mary Martha smiled at Anton. “Welcome! What would you like to drink? We have ice water, pink lemonade, or plain water. Deborah, if you would bring out the scalloped corn from the oven. Thomas, bring the salad. Emily, you forgot to put all the silverware on the table.”

  “You could probably have iced coffee if you want.” John motioned Anton to come to the table.

  “Thank you, but pink lemonade sounds delightful.” He leaned over to whisper to little Gudrun, who was visiting. “What makes it pink?”

  “Thtrawberrieth.” She had recently lost her two front teeth.

&
nbsp; “Oh good.” Anton took the chair John pointed him to.

  With the food on the table, they all sat down so Mark could say grace. “Thank you for our good food and that Pa fixed my mitt. Amen.”

  Deborah watched the emotions play across Anton’s face. Did they not say grace in his house, or were the children not permitted at the table or not allowed to talk unless spoken to first? Some things were unfathomable.

  After dinner, Deborah helped put things away and do the dishes, while the two men sat in the shade, discussing the school.

  Mary Martha nodded toward the men. “John is so pleased with Mr. Gendarme as a teacher. What a gift we have been given.”

  “It’s a shame Mr. Gould doesn’t have someone else to bring here. Ma, as I talk with him, I see that life can be so different in other places.”

  “True, and coming from an extremely wealthy background, I am surprised that he fits in here like he does. I have to admit, I had my doubts.”

  “Mr. Gould fits in, but I remember when his wife was here. She wanted no part of us.”

  “And yet she bequeathed our deaf school all that money, and I have a feeling that Mr. Gendarme will make sure his family funnels money into our public school system too.”

  “For the new building, you mean.”

  “He paid for all the textbooks and supplies for his classes. Please don’t tell anyone that.” Mary Martha stared out the window. “We are blessed in so many ways by so many people. Like Thomas Devlin, who just strolled into town, and look what a difference he made here.”

  “Pa really misses him, doesn’t he?”

  “They were kindred souls. We don’t meet many friends like that in our lives, so we treasure those given us.”

  Deborah dried a glass and put it up in the cupboard. What about Toby? Was he a kindred spirit? Was Anton? Was neither of them? Perhaps Toby would never be in love with her like she was in love with him, or maybe his love would be different. Or perhaps Anton . . . maybe God was answering her prayer in a different way. Like Pa had said one time or many, “Don’t pray, telling God what you expect Him to do and how you want Him to do it, but put your requests in His hands and watch to see what He is doing.”