Pewter Angels (37 page)

Henry didn’t want to thank God for the food or for anything else. He was still mad at Him for not having received a letter from Jenny, and now for allowing this … this tragedy to happen to their family.

Father Connelly ate half his sandwich and more than half a bowl of soup before he said, “I am so sorry, Mrs. Pederson.” Henry saw his mother wince at the title and he wondered if she was still Mrs. Pederson if his dad no longer loved her. “You will have to excuse me. There’s a service tonight, and I have to get ready for it.”

“Of course, Father,” his mother said. “Thank you so much for coming over. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“Glad that I could be of some help,” he said. He got up and pushed his chair back. Then turning to Henry, he said, “Good night.”

“Good night, Father.”

The priest walked to the front hall closet, put on his overcoat, boots, black hat and black gloves.

“God bless you all,” he said, making the sign of the cross to bless the entire house and those within. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Mary.” He turned and hunched his shoulders, bracing himself for the bitter cold outside.

Henry was relieved to see him go. He didn’t like Father Connelly sitting in his dad’s chair, eating his dad’s supper. His
dad
should be here. Henry wanted to know where he was. He screamed the thought so loud in his mind that he looked up at his mom to see if she had heard him. Her back was to him at the sink. She had not sat down again. Her soup was untouched. She turned on the water to fill up the sink. Henry rose and took his dirty dishes to her.

“Is there anything else I can do, Mom?”

“No, that’s all right, Henry,” she answered. “Why don’t you go listen to the radio or read a book?”

Henry walked towards the living room and then stopped. He went back to the kitchen, picked up a towel and began drying the dishes.

They stood there silently for awhile, then Henry asked quietly, “Why do you think dad did this?”

Henry’s mom thought for a long moment, then sighed. “I really don’t know, Henry, and perhaps even your father doesn’t know. Sometimes the grass looks greener on the other side of the fence. And maybe he just wanted to find some way to get out of it all.”

“What do you mean, Mom?”

“Well, he doesn’t like his job very much, and he was complaining about how cold the plant has been lately. Maybe he just wanted to get away from it all. Go to a warmer climate and start over.”

“But, what about us? What about you? Why not take you instead of that … that … other girl?”

“I can’t answer that, Henry. I thought things were okay.”

“How can you be so calm about it, Mom? I’m so angry I just want to hurt him as much as he’s hurt us!”

His mother dried her hands on her apron. Without turning to Henry or looking at him, she put her arm around his shoulder.

“I feel angry and hurt, too. That’s just the way life is sometimes, but things will work out. We still have each other.” She patted his shoulder and pulled him towards her for a brief moment. “Thanks for helping me, Henry.”

She turned, then went into the living room and turned on the radio before picking up a magazine, settling with it in her usual spot in the corner of the couch.

Henry followed, but stopped at the living room entrance. He watched his mom sitting under the tall lamp stand, pretending to read, pretending everything was normal, pretending her heart hadn’t just been cut out of her. His heart went out to her. He wanted to say a prayer for her but he was still fuming at God.

Henry figured his mom needed to be alone and didn’t need the extra burden of having to put on a strong front for his sake. He couldn’t take much more himself.

“I think I’ll go to my room and read for awhile. I have some homework to do, too. Do you need anything, Mom?”

“No, go ahead, Henry. That’s a good idea. Try to get some sleep.”

“Good night, Mom.”

Henry made a valiant effort to concentrate on his homework but gave up and tossed himself on the bed. He grabbed his pillow and buried his head in it, trying to squeeze out the turmoil. He lay there for the longest time and eventually drifted off to sleep. He awoke a few hours later, cold from not having slept beneath the covers. The clock on the end table showed three-thirty. He got up and tiptoed to the bathroom. As he passed his parents’ bedroom, he heard his mom. He stopped and listened. She was sobbing quietly. Tears immediately came to his eyes.

He went back to his room and this time snuggled under the covers, hoping the warmth would dispel both the cold outside and the cold in his heart. He tried to get back to sleep, but the idea of his mom lying there in bed without his dad beside her haunted him. His father was far away, sleeping with another woman.

Henry wished it were morning, so he could get up and do something to get his mind off it all. Not knowing what else to do, he started to pray for his Mom, for Jenny, for his Dad.

He decided to give God one more chance.

H
enry had a terrible time
concentrating at school the next morning, and by lunchtime he had such a headache that he went to the nurse’s office and asked for a note to be excused. When he got home, his Aunt Darlene was there. His mom and Darlene were in the living room, reading a booklet.

“Why are you home from school?” his mother asked.

“Oh, I just have such a headache I can’t concentrate on my classes at all. I saw the school nurse, and she excused me for the day.”

“I see,” his mother said. “Well, I haven’t gotten lunch ready yet.

Do you want me to make something?”

“Oh no, I’ll make myself a sandwich and have a glass of milk when I’m ready.” Henry walked into the living room. “What are you reading?”

His mother and Aunt Darlene looked at each other.

“Well, Henry,” Aunt Darlene started, “I brought this novena prayer over for your mom. If you say this prayer for nine days in a row, followed by a Hail Mary and an Our Father, St. Francis will intercede for you and have God answer your prayers.”

Henry looked at his aunt and then at his mom, not knowing what to say. He still was upset with God for allowing this to happen in the first place, and now they were praying for some saint to ask God to end it. It just didn’t sit right with him.

His mother was a woman of strong faith; she prayed all the time. She looked up at him with plaintive eyes and her words were soft. “I’d really like to try this, Henry.”

“It’s a good idea, Henry,” Aunt Darlene added. “Prayers are answered all the time if the whole family prays together.”

“So what are we going to pray for, that he comes back?” Henry asked.

“Yes, that’s right,” Aunt Darlene answered. “That he comes back, that he’s sorry for what he did, that he gets his job back, and that we become a family again.”

Henry thought about it. How could they become a family again after what his dad had done? He wasn’t even sure he wanted his dad back at that moment. He looked at his mom. She was so lonely, and she had so much hope in her eyes. Maybe things could be reversed and their home life restored.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Mom?” he asked. “Yes,” she said, and a tear trickled down her cheek.

That decided it. “Okay, Mom, let’s try.”

“Well, we can start right now,” Aunt Darlene said, trying to seize the moment. She knelt in front of the couch. His mom slid off her chair and knelt beside Aunt Darlene, and reluctantly Henry joined them, resting his arms on the seat cushion of the sofa.

After a brief silence to foster a prayerful state, Aunt Darlene opened the booklet, made the sign of the cross, then read the prayer:

F
ather St. Francis, remember me and all your people, who are surrounded by so many dangers and difficulties. Help me to follow in your footsteps, even if it is from a great distance. Give me strength, that I may resist all evil. Purify me, that I may shine forth Christ. Cheer me in the Lord, that I may be happy. Pray and intercede for me in my intentions to bring back Bill and restore this family perfectly and better than it was before, with complete trust and commitment to each other.

Pray, too, St. Francis, that God’s spirit and grace may descend upon me: that I may have the true humility you had; that I may be filled with the charity with which you always loved Christ crucified, who with the father and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, world without end. Amen.

Aunt Darlene followed the prayer to St. Francis with an Our Father and a Hail Mary, then concluded with a Glory Be for good measure.

After she finished, she crossed herself, and Henry and his mom did the same. “We are to say this prayer for nine consecutive days, and on the ninth day, our prayer will be answered,” Aunt Darlene said. “I’ll come over every evening, and we will say the prayer together right after supper since everyone will be home at that time.”

“Oh, that’s so good of you, Darlene,” Mary said, her eyes shiny. After a short pause, she composed herself and added, “I’ll make us some coffee. Want a sandwich, Henry?”

Henry wasn’t hungry but thought that maybe it would give his mom something else to think about, so he replied, “Sure, that would be great, Mom.”

As Aunt Darlene and Henry sat at the table and waited for the meal, Henry was tempted to ask his aunt why she thought his dad would do such a thing, but changed his mind. They needed to talk about something else, the weather, her job or his Uncle Ron, but before he could decide on a topic, the sandwiches were ready.

“Is it okay if I go to the grocery store this afternoon?” Henry asked.

“I thought you had a headache and needed to go to bed?”

“Well, going to work is different than having to concentrate on math. It doesn’t require thinking, if you know what I mean.”

Mary looked at him and smiled for the first time in two days.

“Sure, go ahead.”

When henry got to the store
, it only took one look from Mr. Engelmann to know something wasn’t right. When Henry did not go to school, something was amiss. Mr. Engelmann stood directly in front of Henry, studying him for a moment.

“What’s troubling you, Henry?”

Henry didn’t know how to say it. He was ashamed and embarrassed. He knew he had to tell Mr. Engelmann, wanted to tell him, in fact, but he was afraid. This went right to the core of his family and Henry wanted Mr. Engelmann to think he came from a good family, not one that ….

“My dad left with another woman, Mr. Engelmann,” Henry said, exposing the whole truth in one fell swoop. Henry tried to gauge his boss’s reaction and wondered what he would say.

Mr. Engelmann gazed at Henry, nodding as if he were scanning Henry’s face and mind at the same time, reading every nuance. Finally, he said, “How is your mother, Henry?”

Henry was surprised by the question. He had expected Mr. Engelmann to ask how
he
was doing. “Oh, she … she’s …” He was going to say
fine,
but that would be lying. “She’s very hurt and upset.”

“That is a sad thing to hear. It’s very hard to understand how such a terrible thing can happen to a family.” Henry nodded as Mr. Engelmann continued. “Unfortunately, these things can and do happen, even in the best of families.” Then he added, “Your dad made a mistake, yes, Henry?”

“Yes!” Henry blurted. “I’d like to hit him!”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Mr. Engelmann said. “It makes me upset just to hear it. Well, Henry, how do we deal with such a terrible thing happening to a family?”

“I don’t know
what
to do! All I can think of is how mad I am at him. That I want to hit him, hurt him like he hurt Mom …”

“And you, too,” Mr. Engelmann added.

“Yeah! Yeah, and me, too.”

“I understand how painful this must be for you.”

“Yeah, it is, Mr. Engelmann.”

Mr. Engelmann was silent for a moment. Not once did he tell Henry not to feel that way or make him feel defensive or guilty. Mr. Engelmann accepted where he was at and understood how he felt.

“Your dad made a mistake, we agree. But it’s important to separate what he did from who he is as a person.”

That was not at all what Henry had expected to hear.

“What do you mean?” he asked, puzzled.

“I met your dad, and from the way you’ve talked about him over the past several months, he is a good man.” When Henry took a breath to interrupt, Mr. Engelmann continued, “But circumstances led him to do something that wasn’t good. What I am saying, Henry, is that we must always try to separate what a person does from the person as a whole.

“If you look over your life, Henry, are there times when you did things or said things that may not have been right or true? To lie is wrong, but to condemn you as a person would not be the right thing to do, either. You are right to be upset with your father for what he has done but you can still love him—just like I can forgive you for perhaps lying in your past because I know you are a very good young man who maybe made a mistake in the journey of life.

“It’s easy to judge or condemn, but if you were in the same set of circumstances, you might very well have done the same thing.”

“Never!” Henry exploded, “I would never have done that to my mom or … my wife, rather.”

“Well, that may very well be true, Henry, but all I am saying is for you to be open to the possibility that you might have done the same thing in similar circumstances. Perhaps, someday, your dad may explain to you why he did what he did. The moment of weakness, the temptation—”

“If you’re saying I should forgive him, forget it … I can’t.”

“I understand, Henry. This is not an easy thing to deal with.

There are many people involved here, many things to try and understand and sort out, but let’s see what we can do.” Mr. Engelmann came over to Henry and put his arm around him. “Let’s go make some hot chocolate and talk a little more.”

Both of them were thankful no one was in the store. It was too cold to go out back and sit on the old crate in their private classroom. So they headed back to the storeroom where Anna had set up a little coffee station months earlier.

“Hard working men need to take a break sometimes,” she had said.

Mr. Engelmann turned on one of the burners of the two-element stove that sat on top of an old table. Beside the stove was a coffee pot and a teakettle, which was always filled with fresh water. Coffee mugs lay inverted on a clean dish-towel in front of it, and between the mugs and stove were all the usual fixings: tea, sugar, chocolate and coffee. Mr. Engelmann took two large mugs and set them upright, then reached for the tin of chocolate, scooping a couple of heaping spoonfuls of chocolate into each mug before putting the teakettle onto the now red-hot burner.

While they waited for the water to boil, Henry started the conversation again. “How do you forgive when you feel so much anger and resentment towards people close to you? I know I was able to let go of my anger towards Eddy, but this is different. I’m upset with my dad, and Jenny’s parents, too. I think they’re the reason Jenny hasn’t written and why we’re still apart. And now with my dad leaving, I feel like I don’t even want to live anymore. It’s not worth it for all this pain!”

Mr. Engelmann thought over his next words. “There are times in our lives when everything crashes in, when things completely overwhelm us. That’s why it is so important, especially in such times, that we have each other, to have someone we trust and can share our deepest thoughts and emotions with, someone who understands and can help us carry the burden.”

Henry nodded.

“And never forget, too,” Mr. Engelmann added, “that we must turn to God for help as well. He says, ‘Come unto me all you that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.’ My biggest trial was to forgive the Nazis after they killed Anna’s parents, and my sister and brother. For years Anna and I lived in hate and anger for what they did to our loved ones. And the more we hated, the more trapped we were in our pain, our unforgiveness.

“We prayed for release and to be delivered from our bondage and our hate. We knew deep down that this was the only way to be free and to live again. In a moment of anguish and despair, Anna and I cried out for God’s help to deliver us. And our prayers were heard and answered. Since that day, Anna and I have known only peace and the true meaning of love.”

Henry stared at Mr. Engelmann, trying to absorb his meaning.

“The Nazis, too, are children of God. I abhor what they did, but I love their being as much as I love you. We must always separate the person from their action. Love is what connects us all. You, me and everyone and everything in the world was made by God out of love and
for
love. Everything that God created is good.”

“Well then, what happens?” Henry wanted to know. “Why do people do such cruel and hurtful things?”

“God gave us a free will, Henry. He didn’t want to make us robots, one dimensional. He made us so we are free to choose His love or reject it. And the choices and decisions we make are based on our experiences, our interactions with others, what we have learned and what we are led to believe. It’s complicated, but in the end, each moment we live is based on what happened before. And it is on that basis that we make decisions.

“We make millions of decisions and choices in a lifetime. That is why it is so important to develop sound values to live by. Honesty, kindness, truthfulness and forgiveness are important values and principles to live by. The more we adopt and ingrain such values into our lives, the easier it is to make the right choices. As we grow, we learn which decisions are good and which are not good for us. Which decisions help our Lord to make the world better and which hinder Him.

“Most of these learning experiences are not too harmful; most of the little bad decisions we can overlook. Unfortunately, Henry, some decisions we make are so big that we can’t overlook it or forgive so easily. Your dad made such a choice. In a moment of weakness, his human frailty took over, and he made a decision that was not good for him or for those around him.”