by Dean Hughes
“Good night, Wally,” Bobbi said. And she stepped into her room. Then, without turning the lights on, she walked to the window. The moon was casting a glow through the apple tree. Bobbi could see the dark limbs, like arms. She thought of all the times she had climbed that tree when she was a girl—those summer days when the apples were still not ripe. Dad had always told her not to eat the apples yet, that they would make her sick. But she had eaten them anyway, green, and she had loved them. Now, she remembered herself perched in those limbs, a salt shaker in one hand, an apple in the other, and suddenly she wished more than anything that she could have that time—that Bobbi—back.
Chapter 8
When the knocking began, Elder Thomas thought he had overslept. But the room was dark, and he realized it was still early. The next thought, of course, was that it was Kellerman. But why? They hadn’t done anything. They hadn’t gone anywhere near the ghetto.
Elder Thomas grabbed his robe, which he had left hanging over a chair the night before. The knock was back, more persistent this time, but not hard. Elder Thomas felt somewhat calmed. He didn’t hear Kellerman in it. But he stepped to the door, still unsure, and opened it a little. He was surprised to see Peter Stoltz standing there, wide-eyed, his hair ruffled as though he had just gotten out of bed.
“Anna is very sick,” he insisted. “Can you come? Mama wants you.”
“Yes. Yes. Come in for a moment.”
“No. I’ll start back on my bicycle. Come as quickly as you can.”
Elder Sawyer was already getting out of bed. Both elders dressed quickly, saying little to each other. But in the courtyard, when they were getting their bikes, Elder Sawyer asked, “Do they understand about administering? Is that what they want?”
“Yes. I think so. We told them about it.”
The elders pumped hard. They left their bicycles in front of the Stoltzes’ building, and they hurried up the stairs. When they reached the landing, Peter was standing in the doorway. “Come in,” he said. He walked on through the living room to a hall and then stopped by a door and motioned the elders in.
Inside, the room was lighted dimly by a single lamp in the corner. Frau Stoltz had been sitting by the bed. She stood up, still holding a basin and a wash cloth. She set them down on a little stand by the bed, and then she wiped her hands on her apron. She reached out to Elder Thomas. “Thank you,” she said.
“What’s wrong?”
“Influenza.” Elder Thomas heard the despair in Frau Stoltz’s voice.
“How bad is she?”
“Not good—not at all. The doctor comes every day. But now he says we can only wait and see. Her fever is very high.”
Elder Thomas stepped closer to the bed, and he was astounded by what he saw. Anna’s eyes were sunken, her face skeletal and white. Frau Stoltz had been wiping Anna’s face with a damp cloth, and her hair was matted. She seemed to have no substance, as though she were as thin as the sheet over her. She was dying, Elder Thomas realized, and he felt a sudden panic.
“She was talking to us until last night. But now she is sinking.” Frau Stoltz began to cry. “Will you bless her? Can you bring her back?”
Elder Thomas had administered to only one other person in his life—a woman who had been only mildly ill by comparison. No one had ever asked him to bring someone back from the edge of death. “We do have the power,” he said, frightened to make a promise and at the same time disappointed with himself that he didn’t feel more certain.
“Please do it, Bruder Thomas. Please. She’s my life.”
Elder Thomas nodded. He reached into his pocket and grasped the little bottle of oil. “Where is Herr Stoltz?” he asked.
“He doesn’t believe in this. He allowed me, finally, to send for you, but he wants nothing to do with it. He’s very angry right now, Bruder Thomas. He can’t bear this. I don’t know what he’ll do.”
Elder Thomas could feel the weight. He wished he had his father with him, or an apostle—someone with deeper faith, greater power. “Will Herr Stoltz at least come in? He should be here for the blessing. He could say a prayer, or—”
“No, no. He refuses. He told me it’s superstition, and he won’t be part of it.”
Elder Thomas nodded, and he considered for a moment. “Frau Stoltz, I need . . . to be ready. I want to pray. Could I go into the living room for a moment?”
“Of course. Go ahead. But don’t take too long.”
Elder Thomas looked at his companion. “Come with me,” he said, and the two walked to the living room. Elder Thomas wanted to include poor Frau Stoltz, who needed the prayer too, and Peter, who looked so desperate. But there were things he needed to say to the Lord—things he didn’t want them to hear.
So the elders knelt together, and Elder Thomas prayed. “Father in Heaven,” he said, “I’m scared. I’m not big enough for this.” And then he explained that the Stoltzes were honest and good, that they were worthy of such a blessing. “Please, Father, don’t let my weakness stand in their way. Trust in Frau Stoltz’s faith more than in mine or Elder Sawyer’s. She called us here because she believes in our power. But our power is thy power, Lord, and we are nothing without it.”
Elder Thomas’s voice came close to pinching off. “I’ve never been asked to do anything so important as this, Lord. I trust in thee to put the right words in my mouth—that I may speak thy words, not mine.”
When Elder Thomas got up from his knees, he was feeling better, but he was still scared. He looked at Elder Sawyer. “It’ll be all right,” Elder Sawyer said, but Elder Thomas seemed to see there a reflection of himself—someone young and nervous, not an Alma or a Parley Pratt.
Elder Thomas wiped the tears from his cheeks. He took a breath. He wanted to walk back into that bedroom with some confidence, but his thoughts were running fast. What if he blessed her to live but she died? What would Herr Stoltz say? What if he put his hands on her head and didn’t know what to say?
“You anoint her, okay?” Elder Thomas told his companion. “Just do it in English.”
When the two returned to Anna’s bedroom, Elder Thomas nodded to Frau Stoltz to assure her, but he could feel his hands shake as he handed the vial of oil to Elder Sawyer.
“What’s Anna’s full name?” he asked Frau Stoltz.
“Anna Eleanore Stoltz.” Frau Stoltz was grasping her hands together, her fingers tightly laced. “What should I do?”
“You and Peter just stand here close. Listen to the blessing. Pray with us. Add your faith to ours.”
Peter nodded and stepped close. His eyes were wide, almost frantic.
Elder Thomas touched his companion’s shoulder, and Elder Sawyer stepped forward. He leaned over and let a little drop of oil fall onto Anna’s forehead, at the hairline, and then he turned and handed the bottle and the lid to Elder Thomas. It all seemed rather awkward, but Elder Sawyer did say the prayer all right. And then Elder Thomas stepped closer to join him.
Anna’s bed was low, and the elders had to bend down and reach rather far to place their hands on her head. Elder Thomas felt the heat in her head, heard her take a longer breath, as if in response to the touch. Then he felt something else. As he shut his eyes, he felt his chest swell and fill with calm. All the shaking stopped—and he knew.
The words were easy. He sealed the anointing and then he said, “Anna, you have important reasons to stay upon this earth. We command you in the name of the Lord to be restored to your full health and well-being. Return to us and be healed.”
Later, he would try to remember what he had said, but what he would remember more than anything was the feeling that had come over him: the overwhelming love he felt for the Lord, for Anna and her family, and the light that seemed to fill him up.
When he ended the prayer, he turned to Frau Stoltz, who was crying audibly. She grasped Elder Thomas around the shoulders and pressed her head against his chest. “Will it be so?” she said. “Can it really happen this way?”
And instantly Elder Thom
as felt the first doubt. A moment before, he hadn’t questioned at all—he had known. But Frau Stoltz seemed unsure, and when he looked at Anna she seemed unchanged. Her breathing was imperceptible. She seemed gone already, the same as when the elders had entered the room.
It was Elder Sawyer who said, “She is fine. I know it.”
That was the best Elder Sawyer could do with his German, but Elder Thomas felt another surge of confidence. He patted Frau Stoltz on the shoulder and said, “Trust in the Lord.” But he couldn’t bring himself to use the strong words he had used in the blessing, and he wondered why.
As the elders left the room and turned down the hall, they could see into the kitchen where Herr Stoltz was sitting at the table. When he heard the elders coming, he looked up. “This was my wife’s desire,” he said. “I want you to leave now and not come back.” He seemed hostile, his voice brittle with anger.
And it was that voice that Elder Thomas remembered as he and Elder Sawyer bicycled back to their apartment. He had seen nothing but light for that minute or so during the blessing, but now he felt the darkness in Herr Stoltz’s angry eyes, and the desperation in Frau Stoltz’s.
It was a hard morning, but Elder Sawyer kept reassuring Elder Thomas. The Spirit had told him the words were right—Anna was going to recover. Elder Thomas envied Elder Sawyer’s faith. He tried to be as strong. But he was already trying to think how he could console the Stoltzes, explain what had happened if the blessing wasn’t granted. And that only led to the worst thought of all: a world without Anna.
When would he know how all this had come out? If she died, would the Stoltzes let him know? Elder Thomas was not patient about such things, and all morning he was tempted to bike back and at least ask whether anything had changed. But instead, the elders put in their usual study time, and then they went out to knock on doors. Elder Thomas had the feeling that he had better work hard, keep doing his duty. He wanted—needed—a blessing today, and he had to be worthy.
He was preoccupied during the tracting hours. He stayed within himself and kept asking questions. What will I say to Frau Stoltz? To Peter? What will happen to Herr Stoltz? He tried to picture Anna’s recovery, the joy that would bring, but he had to force himself to think of it. His worries had taken over. At some point during the morning, he even allowed himself to ask whether he believed in blessings, whether he even had a real testimony of the gospel.
A cool gray mist was hanging over the city that March morning. Elder Thomas felt it, the grayness pushing its way into his spirit. By eleven-thirty, instead of twelve, he was saying, “Elder, why don’t we head home and get some lunch?”
“Should we stop by the Stoltz’s?” Elder Sawyer asked.
“You heard Herr Stoltz. He doesn’t want us to do that.”
“How are we going to know?”
Elder Thomas shook his head. “Maybe Frau Stoltz will send Peter again—if there’s good news. If things don’t go well, I’m not sure we’ll hear from them.”
“Don’t say that, Mit. She’s getting better.”
“I know. I just . . .” Elder Thomas didn’t know what to say. But he didn’t think making a lot of claims was going to help. He had to be ready for whatever happened.
As the missionaries coasted to a stop at their apartment, Elder Thomas saw a man standing near the front door. His first thought was that the Gestapo had returned. But then he recognized that barrel chest, those thick arms and legs. It was Herr Stoltz.
At the same time, Elder Thomas saw the stiffness, the grave look on Herr Stoltz’s face. Elder Thomas hated to think what he was about to hear. The idea crossed his mind that Herr Stoltz was there to curse them, to tell them that their blessing had only given his wife false hope before the end.
Elder Thomas stepped off his bike and hoisted it over the curb. Then he set it down and walked straight to Herr Stoltz. It was only when he got close that he saw the calm in the man’s face. “How is she?” Elder Thomas finally dared to ask.
“I came to tell you,” Herr Stoltz said. “After you left—only a short time after—the fever left her. She is getting better. She is sitting up now. She had a little to eat.”
All the agony suddenly released in Elder Thomas, and a sob broke from his chest. “Thank God,” he said, forgetting to speak German. Elder Sawyer came up behind him and put his arm around his companion’s shoulder. “She’s all right,” Elder Thomas told him, feeling something much more powerful than he had expected.
Herr Stoltz didn’t speak for a long time, but when Elder Thomas had gotten out his handkerchief and had managed to clear his own eyes enough to see again, he saw that tears were in Herr Stoltz’s eyes, too.
“I don’t know what this means,” Herr Stoltz said. “I cannot say for sure that your blessing made any difference. It might have happened anyway.” But these were only his words. His voice was completely changed. He sounded humbled.
“Herr Stoltz, I am never very sure about such things myself,” Elder Thomas said. “But I want you to know this: When I put my hands on her head, the Lord filled me with truth. I felt it. I knew she was all right.”
“It’s that simple for you?”
Elder Thomas wanted to say yes, but he told the truth. “No. After I left your house, I doubted myself. I thought maybe I had only felt what I wanted to feel. I’ve been worried all morning.”
“So which is it?”
“The blessing was a miracle, Herr Stoltz. I’m sure it was. Believe that, and don’t let my weakness cause you to doubt.”
Herr Stoltz ran his hand across his cheek and quickly flicked away the tears that had dropped onto his face. “Bruder Thomas, you are a remarkable young man,” he said. “You trust. You believe. But you don’t lie to me. You didn’t have to tell me that you doubted yourself.”
“I wish I hadn’t. I hope I can get to the point where I don’t do that.”
“Perhaps. But your honesty means much to me. It gives me reason to trust you. It makes me think you really did feel something from God.”
“I did, Herr Stoltz.”
“I would like to believe in miracles, Bruder Thomas. I can’t say that I do. But I am thankful to you. And I’m thankful to God . . . or fate . . . or whatever brought my dear Anna back. And I’m sorry for the way I treated you at my house.”
“You were afraid,” Elder Thomas said.
“Yes. I was.” But he had said all he could say. The tears were streaming down both his cheeks. Elder Thomas wanted to wrap his arms around the man, but Herr Stoltz was still a little too formal for that. And so Elder Thomas wiped his own eyes again and allowed the silence.
Finally, Herr Stoltz said, “Anna wants you to come back. She wants to thank you.”
“Of course. Should we wait until—”
“Come now, if you can. It would mean very much to her.”
“Yes. We can come.”
“I’ll take the streetcar back. You go ahead on your bicycles. You will get there before I do.”
“We’ll go with you on the streetcar, if you like.”
“No. I need the time. I need to think. I haven’t felt this good inside for a long time. I want to enjoy that.”
Elder Thomas understood. He turned to his companion. “Do you want to have lunch first, or should we go now?”
But Elder Sawyer must have known there was only one answer to that question. His eyes were wet, too, but he was smiling. “Let’s just go,” he said.
“I’m sure my wife will feed you,” Herr Stoltz said. “She’ll want to feed you every day from now on.”
Elder Thomas thought he knew what that meant, but he decided not to ask. All that would take care of itself.
Herr Stoltz seemed to see the question in his eyes, however, and he answered. “I regret what I told you before. You may come to us. I care not what the Gestapo has to say about that.”
“Good. We want to keep teaching you. And we would like you to come to church.”
“Yes. I thought about that on the way over here.
I want to attend your church—at least once.”
Elder Thomas smiled. He had more than one visit in mind. “Good,” he said again. “We’ll work all that out. We’ll see you at your house.” He shook Herr Stoltz’s hand, and he felt the man pressing back, offering as much affection as he knew how to give.
The elders began to walk away when Herr Stoltz said, “Just a moment. Could you do something for me?”
“Of course.”
“Could you say a prayer? I want to be grateful, and yet I’m not sure how I’ll feel about all this in the future. It would be more truthful if you said it for me.”
And so the three walked into the courtyard, behind the house, where they could be alone, and Elder Thomas prayed. He thanked the Lord for the blessing, and he asked a blessing on Herr Stoltz, too, called him ‘Bruder’ for the first time. “Let him feel thy Spirit,” Elder Thomas said. “Let him know the truth of what happened today—and the truth of the restored gospel.”
Herr Stoltz didn’t say “Amen,” but he shook Elder Thomas’s hand again, grasping it even tighter than before.
The elders didn’t ride hard on the way to the Stoltz’s. They were feeling more thankful than excited, and so they enjoyed the time to talk. They compared their feelings, the sure word they had received, and Elder Thomas chastised himself a little for the concerns he had expressed afterward. “I know we have the same priesthood as the apostles do,” Elder Thomas said. “But it’s hard to picture the Lord paying attention to guys like us.”
“Hey, if I had given the blessing, I would have felt the same way,” Elder Sawyer said. “But I heard you, and it was like this whole new voice, like some authority coming from you that I couldn’t have imagined before. I knew that you knew.”
It was all very difficult for Elder Thomas to imagine about himself, and he knew that he would probably doubt again. Still, he would never be exactly the same person. His faith had moved up a notch, and there wasn’t any going back from that.
When the elders knocked on the Stoltz’s door, Frau Stoltz was the one who answered. She grabbed Elder Thomas immediately, and she clung to him and cried. Elder Thomas thought she was going to soak his shirt before she was finished, but