A Measure of Mercy (37 page)

“Would you go too?” Ingeborg asked Freda, concern inching higher as the pause lengthened.

“No, I don’t think so. I like it here, and I like what I am doing. I would like a house of my own, is all.”

Ingeborg sighed in relief. “Thank you. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate that.” She looked to her husband. “Perhaps next spring we can see about building you a house.”

“It needn’t be big, not for one person.”

“You are always welcome at our house. I hope you know that.”

“Oh, I do. And I don’t want it far away from the cheese house.”

Haakan halted the team at the gate. By now the grass wore white frosting, and the snow was settling on roofs and roads. After dropping off women and children, Andrew and Thorliff drove the buggies to the barn and unhitched their teams to get the horses into shelter instead of waiting in the weather. Solem and Anna and their children rode with Andrew, and Gilbert came with Thorliff.

As they all gathered in the kitchen to remove coats and hats, the children headed into the parlor, where the toy box waited, the women began setting out the food, and the men, when they returned from the barn, gathered around the stove in the parlor.

Ingeborg could hear the hum of their discussions but not the gist of it. Elizabeth and Ellie were laughing about something, and Freda was handing Anna things from the pantry to put on the table. Ingeborg brought the deep kettle with the potatoes, which had simmered while they were gone, to the sink and poured the potato water into a separate crock, planning to use it in the soup she would make in the morning. Then she pulled the potato masher out of the drawer and mashed the hot potatoes, added cream and butter, salt and pepper, and mashed until the lumps were gone. She gave the contents a good whipping to lighten them up.

At the same time Freda had taken the venison haunch out of the oven and removed it from the pan. As she added flour to the drippings, Ingeborg shoved her kettle to the back of the stove to keep warm.

“You want to finish the gravy or slice the meat?”

“I’ll do the gravy.” She turned. “Anna, would you put the rolls in the oven to warm up?”

Haakan stepped back into the kitchen. “I asked Joshua to join us, but he had promised to help Johnny Solberg with guitar lessons, so he might be a bit late.”

Ingeborg nodded. “Ellie, please set another place.”

“Good thing you have such a big table.”

“I know. And the children can sit on laps for now. Haakan is planning on building a lower table for the children, now that we have more of them.”

As soon as they had the food in serving dishes, Ingeborg called everyone to the table. “Haakan, please lead the grace.”

As silence fell, Haakan said, “I Jesu navn, gär vi til bords,” with all the others joining the age-old Norwegian grace. At the amen, everyone sat but for Ingeborg and Freda, who brought the remaining plates and platters to the table. Ingeborg smiled to herself to see her three men, each with a child on a knee, dishing up their own plate plus the small one for their child. She knew that other families didn’t do things this way, but when Thorliff started it, Andrew followed, and now Haakan did the same.
Thank you, Father,
whispered through her mind as she made sure all the bowls were refilled.

“You sit down now,” Freda told her. “I will pour the coffee.”

For a change Ingeborg did just that, dropping a kiss on Emmy’s head as she sat beside Haakan. “Do you want me to take her?” she asked quietly.

Haakan shook his head. “She’s fine.”

She’s fine
. Such a short comment but so perfect.
Aren’t we all fine?
Healthy, happy, gathered in a house all snugged up for the winter, all
together, including grandchildren, cousins, our family.
The thoughts kept floating through her mind as she filled her plate, with Haakan making sure she got some of everything.
Oh, Lord, how blessed we are.
I cannot thank you enough. The only one missing is Astrid. I pray you keep
her safe, and you know my opinion on where I want her to go next.

Between bites she brought her attention back to the conversation around the table.

“If the snow keeps up, like I think it will, as soon as it is deep enough, we can use the sleighs for our Christmas tree–cutting trek.”

“Where do you cut trees?” Gilbert asked, confusion in his eyes. “There are none here.”

“Some of us go across the river to Minnesota. Once out of the Red River Valley, there are plenty of pine trees. A farmer over there lets us cut trees in exchange for a wheel of cheese,” Thorliff explained. “Far and Lars usually go. Not sure who else will go along. They bring back one for the church too.”

“Enough for the whole town?”

“No. Some come in a railroad car.”

“We used to bring one back for everyone, but now there are just too many households.” Haakan set Emmy down when Inga slid to the floor. “You girls let Carl play too.”

“Carl has the train,” Inga said. “We have the ball.”

“Ball?” Carl slid off his father’s knee. “Play ball.”

Ingeborg rolled her lips together. Astrid was usually the one who played with the children. Why was her name coming up so often today? Was there something going on with her? More than the every day? Or was it just that Christmas was coming and it was her first one away from home?

29

D
ECEMBER
20, 1903

A
line from Pastor Solberg’s sermon this Sunday before Christmas ate at Joshua like a dog gnawing on a bone. “The one who suffers the most when you refuse to forgive someone—” there was a long pause, and he looked directly into Joshua’s eyes, or so he thought—“is you.” The silence shouted and echoed the comment.

Joshua stared at the man in front of the congregation. Had he really said that? At the end of the four-part series on forgiveness, all of which needled Joshua mercilessly anyway, this was hard to hear.

He played the final song on his guitar along with Elizabeth on the piano, but his mind refused to take part. Good thing his fingers knew where to go and what to do.

“Are you all right?” Dr. Elizabeth asked him when they finished playing after most of the congregation had filed out.

Joshua nodded, shook his head, and nodded again. He sighed and looked toward her. “He packs a punch, doesn’t he?”

“Pastor Solberg?”

“Um-hmm.” He unbuttoned the strap that looped over his shoulder. “He makes it sound so simple.”

“Sound simple and be simple don’t go hand in hand. Sometimes they’re not even speaking.”

He nodded. Good thing he had told Johnny Solberg that he couldn’t give him a lesson today. “Merry Christmas, Dr. Bjorklund.”

“Where’s Mr. Landsverk going?” Ingeborg asked when Dr. Elizabeth joined her and Kaaren outside.

“I don’t know. Why?”

Ingeborg pointed to the figure striding back toward town. “I thought he was coming to dinner.”

“Perhaps he had something he needed to do beforehand.”

“So are we all ready for the Christmas program tonight?” Kaaren asked.

“Far as I know the musicians are. Johnny is going to play too, for his first time.”

“Guess he won’t be Joseph this year, then?”

“No, and Samuel is acting like I’ve been beating him because I said he had to take the part,” Kaaren added.

“Good thing we had a large-size male garment.” Ingeborg had been in charge of sewing Christmas costumes ever since the plays began. This year she’d made a new crown for one of the kings because the other had disintegrated. “The angel wings are getting a bit worn.”

“I know. And Dorothy’s baby, Adam, is pretty large to be playing baby Jesus, but all will be well,” Elizabeth said. “No matter what happens, we all love it. This is the third or fourth time we are using the original one that Thorliff wrote.”

“I tried to get him to write another, but he said he just didn’t have time. Who wrote the story he’s been serializing in the paper this year?” Kaaren asked.

“He won’t tell even me. Says it will be a surprise in this week’s edition.” Elizabeth looked around for her daughter.

“She’s with Emmy. I think they are making snow angels with the big girls.” Ingeborg shaded her eyes with a flat hand. “Over there by the trees.”

The sun shimmering on the snow made the blue sky even bluer, if that were possible. Black fence posts wearing white top hats stuck up through the sparkling drifts, mute lines of sentinel soldiers.

Ingeborg raised her face to the sun, which had little warmth. “I am so grateful for days like this. I want to soak in the sun and trap it to take out in bits and pieces when I need it.”

“Like when that old north wind is howling?” Kaaren took her arm. “The men are waiting, most likely thinking they’ve not been fed for a week.”

THAT EVENING AT the church there was standing room only, as the stage in front took up extra room. Dr. Elizabeth, Joshua, Lars, Trygve, and Johnny played a medley of carols while people filed in and scooted closer so more could sit down. Kerosene lamps on wall sconces provided light, along with stair-stepped candelabras that Mr. Sam had created for the church. A pine tree dressed in angels— crocheted, carved, knit, and pieced—waited in the corner for the candles to be lit.

The players took their positions. Thorliff stepped to the podium and silence fell, that awestruck moment when the world waits for the story to be told again. A child’s voice sang from the rear. “O come, O come, Emmanuel . . .”

Joshua answered. “And ransom captive Israel . . .”

The children’s choir picked up. “That mourns in lonely exile here . . .”

Joshua replied. “Until the Son of God appear.”

Everyone sang the chorus. “Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.”

Silence reigned again, and then Thorliff began reading the familiar story.

Ingeborg dabbed at her eyes, her sniff joining others.

The baby slept through the program, only one angel lost a wing, and the lamb tried to escape, but Joseph reached over and grabbed it, handing it back to the shepherd. The king’s new crown glittered in the lamplight. Grace, who was so aptly named, signed for those who couldn’t hear. She’d come home in time to do just that, and the smile she sent Jonathan at the piano bench left no doubt in anyone’s mind as to her love for him.

And the age-old story, always new and full of promise, dug into each of their hearts and blossomed in love.

As they all sang “Silent Night,” three people lit the candles on the tree while others doused the kerosene lamps so that the lighted tree was the only light.

“Oh, pretty!” Inga’s voice could be heard to the corners, bringing chuckles and other comments.

The delight on Emmy’s face when she was given a peppermint stick, an orange, and a wrapped package like all the other children made Ingeborg tear up again. “You can open it,” Ingeborg told her.

“See, like this.” Inga opened hers, as always making sure Emmy knew what to do. Inside each box was a book, thanks to Thorliff and Elizabeth, who had given the children this present ever since they came back to Blessing.

Emmy studied the orange, sniffed it, and held it out to Ingeborg.

Then following Inga’s lead, she sucked on her peppermint stick, her face glowing in delight.

By the time the program was finished, the candles extinguished, the costumes in a stack by the side door, and small children asleep in their folks’ arms, everyone headed for home, accompanied by sleigh bells and laughter.

“That was so beautiful,” Freda said. “And when they sang some of the carols in Norwegian, why, my heart just flew home.” She paused a moment. “But, you know, I think this was the best Christmas program I ever saw.”

“Ingeborg says that every year.” Haakan nudged his wife. “Don’t you?”

“I do?” Ingeborg stared at him wide-eyed. “That couldn’t be me.” She glanced down at the little one nearly hidden by the buffalo robe. “She’s almost asleep.”

“I’m not surprised. Next year she’ll be in the program too.”

THE NEXT MORNING Ingeborg found an envelope stuck in the doorframe. She opened it to read:

Dear Mrs. Bjorklund,

Thank you for the kind invitation to join your family for Christmas Day, but I am leaving on the train this morning to return to Iowa. You know my family is there, and thanks to Pastor Solberg, I have an errand to do. May you all have the most blessed Christmas ever.

Sincerely,
Joshua Landsverk

“So that was what he was about,” Haakan said when he heard her read it again later. “He told Thorliff and Hjelmer he would need to miss some work.”

“But at least Penny got to move in.” The move had taken two days, with everyone who could take the time helping.

“There is still much to do inside, but it is livable and the furnace works just great. I think we’ll put one in here next fall.”

“Along with the bathroom?”

“That comes in the spring, although I could do the inside work on it this winter.” He nodded, digging at his teeth with the tip of his tongue, along with a slow nod that told Ingeborg he’d disappeared into thought land.

“Today Emmy and I are making fattigmann.” Ingeborg swooped the little girl up in her arms and danced them around the kitchen.