A Measure of Mercy (38 page)

“Again?” Freda set the last of the breakfast dishes in the pan of hot soapy water on the stove.

“I know. I saved the lard from the last ones. We should do doughnuts too. We have plenty of buttermilk.”

“I thought I’d make buttermilk pies. My mor always made those for Christmas dinner.”

“You better make four or five, then. The whole family will be here, and then in the afternoon everyone takes the sleighs out, and we go visiting.”

“But who do you visit when everyone is out?”

“It seems to work out.”

Ingeborg got out her recipe and mixed the ingredients for the fattigmann, Emmy standing on a stool beside her, a towel tied around her for an apron. “Now, when we roll these out, we cut them and you tuck the tail into the slot, and then we fry them.”

Emmy nodded as if she understood every word.

Ingeborg rolled and cut the diamond shapes, a slot in the middle, and showed her helper how to tuck the tail in. They giggled together, and Ingeborg dropped a piece of dough into the lard kettle on the stove to make sure it was hot enough.

Then she slid the fattigmann into the kettle. Freda watched the cookies brown, flipped them over, and with a slotted spoon, dipped them out and laid the treats on dish towels to drain. When they’d cooled, they shook them in powdered sugar and filled the few tins they had empty.

“You have powdered sugar all over your face,” Ingeborg told Emmy and held her up to see in the mirror. Emmy giggled and brushed the white spots away. She turned to smile at Ingeborg, who kissed the little cheek. “You still taste like sugar.”

When Haakan returned from town, he brought an envelope from Astrid. He opened it with his pocketknife and pulled out the paper.

“Dear Mor and Far,

“I’m keeping this short, but I wanted to make sure you would be home Christmas Day. At one o’clock in the afternoon I plan to telephone you. I just have to hear your voices and tell you God Jul. Merry Christmas. And how much I love you.”

Ingeborg sniffed. “Having her here would make Christmas perfect.” She looked down to see Emmy staring up at her, her eyes round and face sad.

“No, I am not sad . . . well not much, little one.” She bent over and hugged Emmy close. “And you make me so happy that I can’t squeeze you enough.”

That always made Emmy giggle.

“And one of these days, I think you are going to talk, and that will make me really, really happy too.”

Haakan cleared his throat and continued with the rest of the letter.

“I dream of home and white snow, not the dirty stuff on all the streets here. Even the snow on the rooftops is an ugly gray from all the coal burning. But we are busy here. As Dr. Morganstein has said repeatedly, sickness and accidents don’t take a vacation at Christmas. She also told us to prepare for more cases of family abuse. There is so much sadness at this time, when instead the whole world should be rejoicing. I better hurry. I just heard them call my name.

“Love and joy,
“Your daughter,
“Dr. Astrid Bjorklund

“P.S. I’m sorry that Mr. Josephson and Mr. Abramson decided to postpone their visit until spring, but this way perhaps I can be there too.

“A”

“She loves to sign her letters that way, I think.” Ingeborg smiled at her husband. “Is it a sin to be so proud of one’s child?”

“If it is, we have it together.” Haakan slid the letter back into the envelope. “I could sure eat some of the fattigmann about now.”

“That’s why we had to make them again.”

———

CHRISTMAS DAY DAWNED clear. Ingeborg scraped a spot free of ice off the kitchen window so she could see the sunrise. “Thank you, Lord, for a glorious day. No blizzard this year as there has been in the past.” She thought back to the night before, when they had lighted the candles on the tree in the parlor. Inga, Emmy, and Carl had stared, oohed and aahed. Ingeborg, as always, did the same, kneeling beside the little ones and cuddling them close while Haakan read the Christmas story. Christmas trees needed to be lit in the evening. Today would be beautiful, but not as it had been the night before.

They attended church at ten and had dinner at noon, the smoked geese having been stuffed and put in the oven before they left for church. The children danced from the tree, with the presents stacked around, to the kitchen and back to the tree while the women cleaned up the dinner and put things away.

“Presents now?” Inga asked for the thirtieth time.

“Not yet. Not until after Tante Astrid calls us on the telephone.”

Inga rolled her eyes. “Cookie then?” She quickly added a “please” for good measure.

When the telephone rang two times, everyone fell silent as Ingeborg rushed to answer it. “Hello?”

“Mor, God Jul. Merry Christmas. Hold the receiver out so I can shout to everyone.” And shout she did. Then they all shouted
Merry
Christmas
back to her.

After quick visits with each one, Astrid said softly, “I miss you all so much.”

“And we miss you.”
I miss you the most
. But Ingeborg could hardly speak through the tears. “I sent you a box of Christmas goodies. Did you get them?”

“Oh, I did. Thank you so much. We had a party the other night and shared our boxes from home. Yours were the best. Well, I better let you go. Have you opened the presents yet?”

“No, I made them wait until after we talked with you. This is the best present.”

“And Inga is—?”

“Being Inga. She can’t wait. She’s staring up at me right now, her look saying ‘Hang up the telephone.’ ”

“Give her a kiss from me. Bye, Mor.”

“Bye.” She bent down and kissed Inga’s cheek and then her nose. “Those are from Tante Astrid.”

“We can open presents now.” Inga ran into the other room.

“Emmy, you sit down here by me.” She patted the floor beside her. “And Carl can sit here.”

Thorliff gave his mother a look and shook his head. “The queen has spoken.”

Lord, I do pray that everything is going well for Mr. Landsverk.
And thank you for everyone here. For all the blessings you have poured
out upon us. For sending us your son. And thank you for good weather,
no blizzard.

30

M
ID
-J
ANUARY
1904 C
HICAGO
, I
LLINOIS

A
strid got comfortable on her bed and then traced her finger along her mother’s handwriting before opening the envelope.

Dear Astrid,

I cannot begin to tell you how much hearing your voice meant to me—to all of us, but to me especially. I just needed to hear your voice. What a gift the telephone can be. I have decided that since the call gave us all so much pleasure, we will do it again, only not wait until the house is full of company. I wish you could have seen the look on Inga’s face when you spoke to her. Her eyes lit up and she danced in place. “Tante Astrid!” she whispered. Well, you know how Inga whispers.

We had a wonderful day here. The children so loved the Christmas tree, even when the candles weren’t lighted. I would find Emmy just sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring at it, all by herself. It is the first thing she runs to in the morning. I’m not sure how we will explain it to her when we take it down. I wish I knew if she is learning English. Perhaps I need to relearn some simple Sioux words to see if that would make her answer me. I know she can hear.

When Thorliff brought in the puppy for Inga, she stroked the puppy’s ears, grinned up at her pa, and said, “Really? For me?” Thorliff asked her what she would like to name her, and she stared at him, shaking her head.

We all tried to think of a name, but none has stuck yet. She is brown and white and fluffy. I don’t think she’ll be a cattle dog.

Emmy loved the rag doll that Ellie made for her. She used black yarn for the hair and tan skin for the face and body. Emmy hugged that doll to her chest and never let it go for the rest of the day. I was thinking we should make a papoose pack for her and skin leggings and shirt for the doll, like Emmy wore when she came. Ellie dressed the doll in a skirt, waist, and apron.

Inga, Carl, and Emmy wore the rabbit-skin mittens I made for them for the rest of the day. I need to make more of those. They are the warmest. Remember the rabbit-skin vests that Metiz used to make? I found one of Andrew’s, and while it is still too big for Carl, Emmy appropriated it for herself. She was so worn out by the time everyone left that she curled up behind the stove on her quilt right along with the cat. I remember Andrew doing the same thing. This has been a year of more memories than others, I think.

Well, I better head on for bed. Both your pa and I pray for you every day, and I know God is holding you tight in the palm of His mighty hand. I know too that He will make His will clear to you at the right time, although I keep reminding Him of how much we want you to come back to Blessing.

With all my love and rejoicing in who you are,
Your mor

Astrid mopped her tears and read the letter again. While they had tried to provide a Christmas for the children on the ward, she was glad so many were able to go home. She had been hoping that Gerald and Rebecca could have come for Benny before Christmas, but sometimes even the best laid plans didn’t make it. She could hardly believe they would be arriving the very next day. Containing her excitement took any extra energy she owned.

She tucked the letter into the larger fabric envelope that contained all the others and then returned to her bed with her back against the wall, contemplating her tired feet. She must have walked ten miles today. At least it felt like that. Two babies had been born on Christmas Day—both healthy, as were the mothers. An old man on the surgical floor had died that night. And tomorrow Benny would meet his new parents. They were arriving on the train before noon and would stay overnight in the hotel down the street. She had leave to join Rebecca and Gerald for supper in the dining room here at the hospital.

As she finished getting ready for bed, her thoughts got away from her. She’d not heard from Mr. Landsverk. No answer to the letter she sent him before Christmas and not even a note saying Merry Christmas.

Take every thought captive,
she reminded herself.
You can’t be worrying
about something you have no control over. Like that man.
He was the one who asked her to write, who said he would write.
Take every
thought captive. Put Jesus in my mind instead.
That was not a Bible verse but something her mother said that always made her calm down and think better. Astrid said her prayers, starting to omit Joshua and then changing her mind.
Take care of him with all the rest of my family and
friends, and thank you for your Word, which does sustain me. In spite of
me. I love you, Jesus
. Her amen never quite made it.

She woke at the knock at her door and made her way to the washroom, where other students and nurses were in the same bleary shape as she. At least she’d been allowed to sleep through the night. One did not take that privilege lightly, she’d learned well. Down in the dining room she poured herself a cup of coffee, filled her plate, and found a place to sit with some of the other student doctors.

“So Benny goes to a home today?” one of the young men asked.

Astrid nodded. “Rebecca Baard, now Rebecca Valders, has always been one of my good friends. We grew up together, and now she and her husband are coming.”

“They understand about his handicap?”

“Oh yes. I’m not worried about him going to Blessing. The whole town will become his family. Managing his crutches might be difficult in the snow, but I have a feeling someone will devise him a wagon or sled or something to make his life easier.”

She glanced up to see Red Hawk taking the vacant place on her left. “Good morning.”

“No, good night. I’m on my way to bed.”

“Night shift?”

“Three accidents brought in. One was a woman who fell down the stairs.” His sideways glance told them his opinion of that excuse.

“How bad?”

“Fracture of the right femur, broken ribs, and maybe internal injuries. She says she needs to get home to take care of her children.”

“She won’t be taking care of anyone for a while,” another young doctor added.

“If we got rid of the booze in this town, this hospital would have a lot less patients,” one of the women, well known for her views on prohibition, chimed in.

“There was a big bust at the speakeasy. Several dead and one wounded brought in here. I guess some of the other hospitals took in the rest.” Red Hawk shoveled eggs and bacon into his mouth. “Saturday night in the big city.”

“Who operated?”

“Jensen.” Herbert Jensen, a third-year student, was staying on for more surgical training. “Two wounds actually, one in the left leg and the other in the side. Missed all the vitals. The man was grumbling about not seeing a
real
doctor.”

“How did he know?” Someone down the table leaned forward. “Jensen has had more training than half the doctors practicing out there.”