Carolyn put her shoulder bag and two tote bags into the compartment beside her seat in the mammoth Lufthansa 747 aircraft. Mitch had made the arrangements and, as usual, spared no expense to make sure she was comfortable. Her husband had put her, Faith, and Georgia in business class for the long flight to Frankfurt. Faith, blonde hair in pigtails, sat on the big leather seat, jean-clad legs straight out, feet dangling, Puppy Brown hugged in a protective embrace. She looked so much like May Flower Dawn at six years of age, it pierced Carolyn’s heart. She buckled Faith’s seat belt before her own and brushed her knuckles down her granddaughter’s satiny cheek. “Excited to see Daddy, sweetheart?”
Faith nodded. Carolyn leaned forward and looked across the aisle. “How’s GeeGee doing over there?”
Georgia sat across the aisle, face pale and strained. She gave a nervous smile. “I’m fine.” She looked anything but fine, but Carolyn understood all too well. Learning Jason had been seriously wounded in Afghanistan and flown to Landstuhl had them all on their knees.
They’d gotten the news two weeks ago that Jason had been wounded, but didn’t know until a few days later the extent of his injuries and where he had been transferred. Eventually, Jason would end up in the States, but how long before that happened? weeks? a month? two? Just as he’d done in the days following Faith’s birth, Mitch had moved mountains to get family members together during this time of crisis. He had gotten Jason home from Iraq within five days of Faith’s birth at Jenner. May Flower Dawn had spent a week in the hospital after Faith was born. Tests confirmed what she already knew: she didn’t have much time. The doctor ordered palliative radiation to control the pain. Dawn came home, and hospice was called in. Christopher withdrew from classes at Stanford and came home to spend as much time with his big sister as possible.
Everyone had worried about Jason. He’d been strong through Dawn’s last weeks, but grieved hard when she died. He lost weight, couldn’t sleep, wouldn’t talk. Pastor Daniel took him away for a few days, and Jason seemed better when they returned, less lost and broken. He held Faith close. When called back to duty, he went with God before him and as his rear guard.
Carolyn looked at the beautiful little girl sitting in the big, cushy leather seat next to her. If not for this adorable little munchkin, they all would have fallen to pieces.
“Champagne, madame?” A pretty, dark-haired flight attendant carried a tray of tulip glasses filled with juice or champagne. Georgia took orange juice.
Faith looked eagerly at Carolyn. “Can I have some juice, Grammy?” Carolyn said yes and declined anything for herself. She felt a little queasy with nerves. The last time she’d traveled any distance on her own was driving Chel across country after Woodstock, and that didn’t offer the best of memories. Dawn would have told her not to worry. God would be flying with them. She smiled as she imagined Jesus in uniform, sitting in the cockpit.
Faith squealed in delight and spread her arms. “GeeGee, we’re flying!” Georgia closed her eyes and gripped the arms of her seat. After what seemed a surprisingly short amount of time, the bell pinged and the captain announced the 747 had reached its cruising altitude and everyone was free to move around the cabin. Dinner was served. Carolyn took Faith to the bathroom, then strapped her back into her seat, covered her with a blanket, and read her favorite book to her, Horton Hears a Who! Faith fell asleep halfway through the third reading. Georgia had lowered her seat and finally looked peaceful.
Carolyn took out her wireless laptop. While she waited for it to boot up, she thought of how many times she’d used the computer over the past few years to connect with Jason on the other side of the world, Faith perched in her lap. When he came on the screen, she’d point. “There’s your daddy. Say hello, sweetheart.”
Jason would grin. “How’s my little girl?” Carolyn hadn’t wanted Jason to miss anything. She’d posted movies of Faith rolling over, sitting up, crawling. Faith had been walking by the time he came home from Iraq. Jason made the most of what little time he had with his daughter. Eighteen months after returning from Iraq, he was deployed again.
Georgia went to pieces when Jason was called up for a third tour of duty, this time in Afghanistan. “They’ll keep sending him,” Mitch told Carolyn. With so few men, the military had no choice but to reuse the ones they had. “As long as there’s war in the Middle East, he’ll be going in and coming back.” It didn’t look like it would end anytime soon.
Every night, Faith said the same prayer. “God, please bless Daddy and bring him home safe and soon. Help GeeGee not to worry so much. God bless Grammy Caro, Bumpa Mitch, Granny H, and Uncle Chris. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
Then word came that Jason had been wounded and was being airlifted to a hospital in Germany. He wouldn’t be sent back into a war zone again. His war-won disabilities would bring him a Purple Heart and commendation, but also very likely an early out from the military. Jason had hoped to serve his full twenty years before returning to civilian life.
Mitch came on the screen. “Hey, darlin’. I miss you two already.”
“Thank you for putting us in business class, Mitch. It’s luxurious.” They talked for a few minutes, and then he let Carolyn’s mother take his seat. Even Mom had grown accustomed to sitting in front of a computer and carrying on a conversation via webcam.
“How’s our munchkin, honey? Behaving?”
“Momentarily. She’s asleep. So is Georgia. They both conked out right after dinner, which was served on white tablecloths with china and silver. Can you believe it?”
“We had pizza on paper plates.” Mom winked, so Carolyn knew she was needling Mitch again. Carolyn could hear Mitch laughing and speaking in the background. “Oh, shut up.” Mom sighed. “He wants me to tell you I almost lost my dentures. Not to worry though. Your man is taking good care of me.”
“Don’t forget to use your walker, Mom.”
“Now don’t you start!”
Mitch leaned down so Carolyn could see both their faces. “Don’t worry about us. We get along just fine. If your mother misbehaves, I’ll send her to her room.” He gave Mom’s cheek a brisk kiss. “My turn.” Mitch helped Mom off the chair, then sat in front of the monitor. “Someone will be waiting for you at the airport. I arranged a ride to the train station.”
Mom leaned down. “I put something in your suitcase, honey. If you have time… well, you’ll understand. Give Jason a big hug from his granny-in-law.”
“The whole church is praying, Carolyn.”
Carolyn slept easily after that.
As the train flew down the tracks toward Landstuhl, Carolyn felt Faith pressed close beside her, Puppy Brown still tucked under her arm. He’d fallen from Faith’s seat while she slept on the plane. They’d been so busy gathering their things, they had forgotten him. Fortunately, one of the flight attendants spotted the well-worn, well-loved stuffed animal tangled in the blue blanket and caught up with them in the Jetway. Faith had held him at arm’s length and told him not to get lost again.
Carolyn kissed Faith on the top of her head. “Your great-great-grandfather came from this country, Faith. He grew up somewhere near Hamburg.” Carolyn imagined Oma making her way through Europe to England and eventually boarding a ship to cross the Atlantic, then marrying a German boarder who rented a room in her house. Under other circumstances, they could have been on a heritage trip with Mom and May Flower Dawn.
She and Mitch had talked about Mom’s coming, but she refused. “No, no. You need to get to Jason as soon as you can, and I’d hold you back. If I were younger, maybe, but not now. I’m not up to it.”
In truth, Carolyn had been relieved. Even with a wheelchair, the trip would have been too grueling for Mom, who had just turned ninety-three. She had a hard enough time getting from her rooms to the dining room table these days. Carolyn and Faith often served tea in Granny’s “parlor” rather than have Granny make the long walk to the kitchen.
Carolyn dreaded the time when she wouldn’t have Mom with her. The last six years had been precious, a time of finally getting to know each other. God had given them back the years the locusts had eaten, just as Dawn had prayed He would.
When they reached the Schloss Hotel, they checked in, went upstairs, dumped their luggage, and then took a cab to the hospital. Georgia had to provide Jason’s full name, serial number, and doctor’s name at the reception desk. The nurse gave them directions to intensive care. Only one person could go into the room at a time.
Carolyn sat in the waiting room with Faith. “Am I going to see Daddy, Grammy?”
“I hope so, sweetheart. That’s why we’ve come so far.”
When Georgia came out, Carolyn knew things weren’t good. Her smile wobbled as she took Faith on her lap and said Daddy was sleeping and it might be a while before he’d wake up.
Carolyn went in next. Jason looked like death, with tubes and IVs and everywhere machines beeping and blinking, his head swathed in white. His left leg had been amputated above the knee, his right set in a cast. His left arm was bandaged from wrist to shoulder. Carolyn took Jason’s right hand and leaned down. “It’s Carolyn, Jason. Faith is here with us. Everyone sends their love. They’re all praying. You hold on, soldier. You come back to us.” She kissed his brow. “You have Faith, Jason. She needs her daddy.”
When Carolyn came out, Georgia stood, holding Faith’s hand. The nurse had said she could stay as long as she wanted, and it would be good if she talked to her son. She leaned down and kissed Faith. “Don’t wait around here, Carolyn. She needs to go to bed. I’ll be fine.”
After dinner in the hospital cafeteria and looking in on Jason once more, Carolyn took Faith back to the hotel. She tucked her granddaughter into bed and read Horton Hears a Who! again.
“Grammy? Is Daddy going to die?”
Carolyn didn’t want to lie. “I don’t know, sweetheart.”
“Does he still want to be with Mommy?”
Children never missed anything. “Mommy would want him to stay here until you’re all grown-up.” She held her granddaughter close, and they prayed Daddy would wake up soon and get better.
Georgia didn’t come back to the hotel that night.
Getting ready the next morning, Carolyn found the bundle of letters from Oma’s friend Rosie Brechtwald tucked under her clothes.
When Carolyn and Faith arrived at the hospital, Georgia was just coming out of Jason’s room in intensive care. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“He’s going to be okay!” Carolyn cried as she shared the news with Mitch and her mother. Mom leaned down behind Mitch and asked for medical details. “He came out of the coma last night. They’re moving him into another room tomorrow morning. That’s all I know.”
“How’s Georgia holding up?”
“She’s exhausted, but a lot better than she was.” Carolyn ran her hand over her granddaughter’s head. Faith grinned around her straw and then went back to drinking her milk. People milled around the hospital cafeteria. “Faith got to see Jason this morning. He’s pretty weak right now, but he smiled.” She winked at Faith. “A big smile when he saw his little girl.”
Mitch asked questions, and Carolyn told him as much as she knew. “He’ll be sent back to the States for rehabilitation. Texas, I think.” Carolyn spotted Georgia entering the cafeteria and waved her over. “Georgia just came in. She’s smiling. There must be more good news.”
Georgia leaned in to say hi to Mitch and Hildie, then asked Faith if she wanted to talk with Daddy. He was asking for her. Georgia took Faith by the hand, and Carolyn said she’d follow in a minute.
“Mitch, I’ve been thinking about going to Switzerland in a few days, as soon as we know everything is fine with Jason. I’d like to see Oma’s hometown. Would that be all right with you?”
Mitch nodded. “Mom told me about the letters. Maybe you can even find someone from your grandmother’s friend’s family to give them to.”
“I don’t know if Hotel Edelweiss is still there, but I’ll see what I can find. Georgia will keep Faith here. We bought a few games and crayons and a coloring book to keep her occupied. She’s been good as gold. Jason told her she’s going to grow up to be as beautiful as her mommy. He’s been carrying a picture of May Flower Dawn he took when they were first married and living in San Luis Obispo. Faith thought she was an angel with a halo of light. Jason told Faith her mommy always read her Bible in the morning as the sun was coming up. I told Jason I want a copy of that picture. It would make a wonderful portrait.”
Mom leaned closer so Carolyn could see her on the screen. “Take lots of pictures, honey. I’d love to see where Oma grew up.”
Carolyn searched the Internet and booked one night at the Hotel Schweizerhof in Zurich. The grand old hotel was expensive, but it was right across the street from the train station. Now that her plans were falling into place, she felt like a child facing the first day of school. She laughed silently at herself. Oma had gone around the world by the age of twenty-three! It seemed ludicrous to hesitate in the face of any challenge with Oma’s blood running through her veins. “You have to take life by the horns,” Oma said once.
Oma had certainly done that. Oma had told her about the fake Count and Countess Saintonge who ran the housekeeping school in Bern, about Herr Derry Weib and Chef Warner Brennholtz at the Hotel Germania in Interlaken. She had talked about Lady Daisy Stockhard and her spinster daughter, Miss Millicent, always on the hunt for a suitable husband. It had surprised Carolyn to find out Mom hadn’t heard any of those stories.
She got up early, packed, and kissed Faith on the forehead. Georgia walked her to the door. “I don’t know how to thank you and Mitch for flying me over here, Carolyn.”
Carolyn hugged her. “Jason’s our son, too. I’ll call tonight so you can tell me how our boy is doing.”
She caught the early train to Zurich. The scenery was glorious, the passengers friendly. Hotel Schweizerhof couldn’t have been more convenient. She checked in and asked where she might do some shopping. Her winter coat kept her warm in Sonoma County, California, but she knew after walking from the train station that it wouldn’t suffice in the Alpine country of Switzerland. And she’d need boots instead of walking shoes.
She hunted from store to store until she found a coat and boots at reasonable prices. After a late lunch in Old Town, she headed back toward Hotel Schweizerhof. She spotted the ornately beautiful Swiss National Museum, but it was too late in the day to visit. She went inside the Central Station and had dinner in a café where she could watch travelers come and go.
She called Georgia that evening.
“Jason was in a lot of pain today. Faith and I went out for a long walk.” Georgia laughed. “I needed to wear her out before we went back to the hospital.” Faith had crawled up into bed with Jason while Georgia was in the bathroom. “The nurse found her asleep next to her father, with Puppy Brown tucked under her chin. When she started to move her, Jason told her to leave her there.”
Before calling it a night, Carolyn e-mailed Mitch.
Hotel Schweizerhof is a grand, glorious old hotel right across from the train station where I dined this evening. I’m having dessert now-a bar of Lindt white chocolate with almonds, which was delivered, free of charge, to my room. Tell Mom I’ll bring her some. Off to Steffisburg tomorrow.
Carolyn caught the morning train to Thun. Resting her chin in her hand, she gazed out the window at one picture-perfect Christmas scene after another passing by. Small bursts of color, painted or natural, splashed against the white. The Alps rose like mighty sentinels on guard.
The two-hour train ride passed quickly, and she found herself standing once again in the crisp Swiss air, her breath steaming like a dragon’s. The station manager spoke English. Yes, Hotel Edelweiss was still in business, though it didn’t take in as many guests as it once had. He knew the family very well. “Ilse Bieler and I went to school together.” He made two calls. A room was available. A taxi was on its way.
While she waited, snow fell like goose down after a pillow fight. The driver took her along a small river, across a bridge, and along the main street of what had been Oma’s childhood hometown. A white church with a thick bell tower stood at the end before the road curved right. He drove up the hill overlooking Steffisburg and parked in front of a two-story Bernese-style house. A small sign with Hotel Edelweiss painted in red had been bolted to the dark wood of the house.
As Carolyn walked up the steps, a woman wearing ski pants and a heavy blue and red sweater opened the door. She had dark hair and brown eyes and looked to be in her late thirties, around the same age May Flower Dawn would be, had she lived. Carolyn felt a sudden welling sense of loss. She introduced herself. “Ludwig Gasel called earlier. He said you have a room.”
“Come in, please. I’m Ilse Bieler. My family owns the hotel.” The woman stepped back, leaving the doorway open.
Carolyn liked the cozy feel of the stained wood walls, red sofa and chairs, multicolored woven carpet, and fire ablaze and crackling. Ilse Bieler showed her to a room upstairs with a view of the church steeple among the trees. “We have coffee and cookies downstairs,” Ilse told her, then closed the door as she went out. Carolyn quickly unpacked and went downstairs. She hadn’t come all this way to hide in her room. Ilse Bieler offered coffee. “What brings you to Steffisburg?”
“My grandmother grew up here. I was curious to see if any family members might still be here. She had a special friend who lived here at the Hotel Edelweiss.”
“Really? What was your grandmother’s name?”
“Schneider.”
“A common name. Do you know anything about them?”
“Oma said her father was a tailor and her mother a dressmaker. She had an older brother, Hermann. I don’t know what happened to him. Her mother died young. And she had a younger sister, too. Her name was Elise.”
“Elise.” Ilse lifted her shoulders. “Also a common name.”
The telephone rang and Ilse excused herself. She spoke German for several minutes and hung up. “The church may have information on your grandmother’s family.” Ilse suggested Carolyn check the public records as well, and she told her how to find the building where they were stored. “And you’ll meet my grandmother later. She’s napping right now. But she knows everyone in town.”
The church records gave the date of her great-grandparents’ wedding as well as her grandmother’s baptism. The town records office yielded drawers of family information that went back to the seventeen hundreds! Overwhelmed, Carolyn said thank you and left. Maybe she would just take lots of pictures around town and then return to Landstuhl. She headed up the hill to Hotel Edelweiss.
Ilse introduced her to her grandmother, Etta, a lovely, gray-haired lady around the age of Carolyn’s own mother. She switched from German to English and back again with enviable ease, while Ilse served cabbage soup, sausages and vegetables, fried potatoes and onion salad.
Ilse asked Carolyn if she’d found any information about her family at the church or records office.
“A few important dates at the church, and I practically ran out of the records office when I saw how much they had. I could spend the rest of my life going through all of it.” She shrugged. “My mother wanted me to take lots of pictures. I think that’s what I’ll do.”
Etta passed the plate of sausages around again. Carolyn told her they were delicious.
“An old family recipe,” Etta said with a smile. She cocked her head and studied Carolyn. “You mentioned that your grandmother had a friend here at Hotel Edelweiss. Do you know her name?”
“Yes. Rosie Brechtwald. Have you heard of her?”
Etta gasped. “Rosie Brechtwald was my mother! My granddaughter is named after her-Ilse Rose. My mother wrote letters to a friend who ended up in America, but her name was Waltert. Is that your grandmother?”
“Yes! Marta Schneider Waltert. I have your mother’s letters with me.” Carolyn went to her room, retrieved the bundle, and returned downstairs.
Etta looked delighted. “I grew up on stories of your oma. My mother used to read her letters aloud to us. They wrote back and forth for over fifty years! When Mama died, I wrote to Marta, but the letter came back. I would like to hear the end of the story.”
“I’d like to hear the beginning and the middle.” Carolyn smiled. “I have a hundred questions.”
“Do you still have Marta’s letters, Mama?” Ilse glanced at Carolyn. “She never throws anything away.”
“I’ll look in the family trunk after dinner is finished.”
Etta Bieler brought a box into the living room and set it on the coffee table in front of the fireplace. She took out bundles of letters, tied with faded ribbons. “My mother learned about organization from her father. When he died, she took over this little hotel. She kept perfect files.” The letters had been kept in chronological order.
When Carolyn started looking through Oma’s letters, her heart sank. “They’re written in German.” Why hadn’t she thought of that? All of Rosie’s letters to Oma had been in German.
“Ah, but look in the bottom of the box.” Carolyn removed the rest of the letters and found a thick sheaf of papers under them. Etta’s eyes twinkled. “My children found the story of their grandmother’s friend so fascinating, I encouraged them to translate the letters when they were studying English in school. They enjoyed the practice, and we all enjoyed reading through them again. I remember them very well. Marta’s father made her leave school. He sent her to Bern to become a servant.” She chuckled. “But your oma had bigger dreams than being someone’s maid. She wanted to learn French and English so she could have a hotel like this one. Mama said what Marta set out to do, Marta did.”
“She never had a hotel.”
“No, but she owned a boardinghouse in Montreal. That’s where she met her husband. They moved to the Canadian wheat fields and, later, to California. It’s all in the letters. I think the only thing she didn’t plan was meeting your opa. We all loved that romantic story. Marta didn’t think she would ever marry; then she met handsome Niclas, graduate of Berlin University, also an immigrant. Marta taught him to speak English.”
Ilse yawned and said she needed to get to bed. She had to get up early and have breakfast ready for some guests who wanted to go out cross-country skiing. Carolyn apologized for keeping them up so late. “Would you mind if I took these upstairs to read?”
Etta had already begun opening Rosie’s letters. “They’re yours to keep. Our family enjoyed them, but you must have them. They’re part of your family history.”
“I can’t wait to read them. There is so much I’d like to know about my grandparents. Maybe she wrote about her sister, Elise, too. She sometimes mentioned her to me-even used to tell me I looked like her. But she’d never tell me anything more than that.”
Etta looked troubled. “My mother told me the story. It’s in the early letters-references to it, not details. You may not want to know.”
“I think it’s important I do.”
“Mama said Elise was very beautiful. I’m sure you do look like her. She was very quiet and painfully shy. She stayed in the shop with her mother while Marta was sent out to work. Mama didn’t say much about what went on in your grandmother’s family, just that Marta did not have an easy life. Her father sent her to Bern.”
“To housekeeping school.”
“Ja, but Mama said Marta wanted more than that. She went to Interlaken.”
“And worked at the Hotel Germania.”
“That’s when her father sent Elise to work for a wealthy family in Thun. It turned out very badly.”
Carolyn saw how Etta hesitated. “How badly?”
“The master of the house and his son abused her.” She lowered her eyes and Carolyn understood. “Marta took her sister out of that house and brought her home, but Elise was already pregnant. No one knew yet, but the girl never went out after she was brought home. She stayed inside the house. Everyone assumed she was taking care of her mother, who was very ill with consumption. Marta confided in my mother that she feared for Elise. Apparently the girl was very dependent on her mother, whom Marta felt coddled her all too much. Then when her mother died, Elise disappeared. Everyone went searching for her. It was my mother who found Marta’s sister by the river. She had frozen to death. And she was heavy with child.”
Carolyn closed her eyes. Oma had kept secrets, too. Her sister’s rape, an unwed pregnancy, suicide.
Etta went on with the rest of what her mother had told her about a plain girl wounded by a father who didn’t love her, but used her as a source of income for the family while her mother languished with consumption and her exquisitely beautiful and delicate sister remained hidden away like Rapunzel inside a tower. When Marta went away to work, her father had demanded a portion of her wages, and Marta capitulated until Rosie Brechtwald had written the truth. “Mama knew Marta would never come back after her mother and sister died.”
Carolyn ached for Oma.
“I’m sorry. Perhaps I should not have told you.”
“I’m glad you did. It explains so much.” No wonder Oma had been so determined to make sure her own children could stand on their own two feet. Cloistered by fear, weakened by a needy mother’s coddling, Elise had been unprepared for the world. In the end, she gave up her life without a fight.
How many times had Carolyn considered doing the same thing? Once she had almost walked into the sea. God had used a man wounded by war to draw her back. He’d used an unexpected pregnancy to give her reason to keep on living, to work hard, to accept consequences and blessings along the way. But she had kept silent, too, keeping the pain locked in and pressed down.
“You look like Elise. She was my little sister, and she was very, very pretty, just like you,” Oma once said, but wouldn’t explain. Yet, Oma hadn’t treated Carolyn the same way she had treated Mom. Oma had held her close, told her repeatedly she loved her, encouraged her to step out in faith. Oma had learned that withholding love might make a daughter strong, but also left deep wounds. On both sides.
Carolyn read the letters translated by Etta’s children and tucked them into the corresponding originals written by Oma in German. She read until her eyes blurred.
I am in England. Papa sent a wire telling me to come home. He said nothing about either Elise or Mama, and I knew he would expect me to spend the rest of my life in the shop…
Cousin Felda said it was you who found Elise. I dream of her every night…
Later, Oma moved away from London to “better air” and lived and worked in the “fine Tudor home” of Lady Daisy Stockhard, who loved high tea every afternoon at four o’clock. When one of the other servants left to get married, Oma replaced her as Lady Daisy’s companion.
She is a most unusual lady. I have never known anyone to discuss so many interesting topics. She doesn’t treat her servants like slaves, but is genuinely interested in our lives. She had me sit with her in church last Sunday.
Her daughter is never happy with anything, not even her mother. She is off on another hunt for a husband, and when she’s gone, everyone in the house breathes easier, even Lady Stockhard.
Oma wrote of the long voyage to Canada:
I had days when I would have jumped overboard to end my misery if I could have climbed the stairs to reach the deck. They have packed us like cattle in a barn. The woman in the bunk next to me moans day and night. I know how she feels, but sometimes think about putting a pillow over her head, if I had a pillow. I can laugh about it now that I am on terra firma again.
And in Canada, she found so much more than she was looking for.
Dear Rosie,
I am married!
I never thought anyone would want me, and certainly never a man like Niclas Bernhard Waltert… I thought I was happy when I bought my boardinghouse, but I have never been as truly happy as this. It makes me afraid sometimes…
Carolyn understood the feeling of unworthiness all too well.
She continued reading. Oma’s letters changed. Disappointment set in when Niclas lost his job at the railroad and decided to become a farmer. Oma couldn’t understand how a man of learning would want to work the land.
Dearest Rosie,
Niclas has left me and gone off to work on a wheat farm in Manitoba. He went away three weeks ago and I have not heard from him since. I begin to understand how Elise felt when she walked out into the snow…
I would have given anything for an education, but Papa said schooling was wasted on a girl. And Niclas, who has the knowledge to be a professor, wants to throw it all away and live out in the middle of nowhere tilling soil and planting wheat. He wants me to sell the boardinghouse. He wants me to go on this “adventure” with him. I would kill him if I didn’t love him so much…
Opa had gone alone, and Oma’s letters showed how much she suffered for her decision.
Why must I give up everything I have worked so hard to gain to follow a man whose dream will impoverish us? But how can I not? Life is barren without Niclas. I will have his child soon…
Carolyn read of life on a wheat farm miles from the nearest town, winters when the temperature dropped well below zero, a landlord who cared nothing about their plight and cheated them out of their share of the profits. She wrote lovingly of Bernhard, and she worried about the new baby coming.
Several months passed before Oma wrote another letter, and it held the first mention of Hildemara Rose.
I fear for this little one. I understand now how Mama’s heart broke every time she held Elise. She was small and frail, too…
Pray for your namesake, Rosie. One breath from heaven could blow her away, but God forbid I go too far in protecting her and bring her up to be weak like Elise.
Opa and Oma left the farm and went to Winnipeg. Opa went back to work for the railroad. Another child came.
Our third child, Clotilde Anna, arrived a month after Niclas went back to work. She is as robust as Bernhard, and every bit as loud in her demands.
Soon, Opa began to talk about farming again. This time he was dreaming of California.
The man will not be happy until he has his way. And I am tired of fighting with him.
Life in California was difficult. First the family lived in a tent by an irrigation ditch, then in a structure not much better on a farm owned by…
… Mrs. Miller, who orders us around like serfs while she and her daughter, Miss Charlotte, sit on their behinds and listen to radio programs in the big house. The wind and rain blow through ours, and she expects us to pay for “improvements.” The children have constant colds. I fear most for Hildemara Rose. She has Mama’s constitution…
Oma reported on the achievements of Bernhard and Clotilde and Rikka in a matter-of-fact way, but her eldest daughter perplexed her and seemed a constant worry.
What must I do to make my girl strong? Niclas tells me to be gentle with her, to love her for the child she is. But he doesn’t understand what happens to a child who cannot stand up for herself. I can’t give in and become like Mama, coddling and protecting her… I would rather she hate me than end up like Elise.
And then the day came when Hildemara got the courage to speak up. Carolyn could hardly imagine the scene as Oma’s letter described it.
After all this time, my girl speaks up to me and what do I do? I slap her across the face. I did it without even thinking. I had said something hurtful to Niclas, and he left the table, and Hildemara Rose exposed my shame…
I could see the hurt in her eyes. I wanted to shake her. I wanted to tell her she had every right to scream at me. She doesn’t have to sit there and take it! She would have turned the other cheek if I’d raised my hand to her again.
I have not cried so much in years, Rosie. Not since Mama and Elise died.
Carolyn lay back and closed her eyes. She’d never seen Oma cry, never guessed the depth of pain she carried. Oma had gone to her grave in silence, still wounded. Carolyn realized how alike they were, and Mom, too. How many other unhealthy coping tools have we passed down, Lord? Show us, so we can turn swords into plowshares. Wiping tears away, she thanked God again for May Flower Dawn. God had used her and other prayer warriors to bring the walls between generations tumbling down. I miss her, Lord. I had so little time with her.
And she felt His answer. You have time and eternity.
Then Hildemara further asserted herself by choosing to go to nursing school, against Oma’s wishes. But when she graduated at the head of her class, Oma’s pride was evident.
She is not a timid child anymore. My girl knows her place in the world. I am so proud of her, Rosie.
Opa got cancer.
I had no choice but to ask Hildemara to give up her life and come home. He needs a nurse. He worsens by the day and I can’t bear to see him in such pain. She is a great comfort to us both.
Oma grieved over Opa’s passing, then began to worry about Hildemara Rose again. She didn’t return to Merritt Hospital, where she had been working before Oma asked her to come home and take care of Papa. Carolyn knew a crisis was on the horizon, and in the next letter, it had happened.
A young man came to Niclas’s funeral. I had never seen him before, and Hildemara had never mentioned him. But I knew when I saw them together, they love each other. She had it in her head that she had to stay and take care of me. As if I cannot take care of myself! I said enough yesterday to make her pack and leave. l appreciate all she’s done, but enough is enough.
I offered to drive her to the bus station this morning, hoping for a chance to explain myself a little better. But she had already asked her brother to take her.
She was hurt and angry, once again misunderstanding my intentions. When will she understand how much I love her? How easy it would have been to let her stay and be my comfort! But at what cost to her? Elise was Mama’s comfort and suffered for it. So did Mama in the end, though she didn’t live with the fullness of it. No matter how much it hurts, I must be strong for Hildemara Rose’s sake.
When Hildemara became sick with tuberculosis, Oma lived in fear of her dying.
I went to Arroyo del Valle to see Hildemara Rose. She had Mama’s pallor and the deep shadows under her eyes. I could see no life in them when I first arrived. It terrified me… I called her a coward. Though it broke my heart, I mocked and belittled her. Thank God she got good and mad. Her eyes spit fire at me and I wanted to laugh with joy.
Better she hate me for a while than give up on life and be put in an early grave. She was trying to get up when I walked away…
Carolyn blinked back tears as she read Oma’s description of Charlie’s birth. Oh, Charlie. I still miss you so much it hurts. Oma was concerned even then about the breach between herself and Mom.
Hildemara Rose and I get along, but there is a wall between us. I know I built it. I doubt she’s forgiven me for my harsh words at the sanatorium, and I will not apologize for them. I may have to prod her again. I’ll do whatever I must to keep her spirits up. Oh, but it hurts me so to do it. I wonder if she will ever understand me.
No, Oma, I don’t think she ever did. At least not yet.
Years later, Oma wrote about the gold, jade, and pearl brooch. Carolyn fingered it as she read.
I was so stunned and touched by Hildemara’s gift, I said something stupid. I could see the hurt in her eyes. It’s become a bad habit, saying hurtful things to her. I reached out, but she’d already turned away, and I had no voice to call her back. I take out the brooch every day and look at it. My girl has a fine, generous heart…
Oma had tried to reach out to Mom in those later years, and Mom shrank back. Mom and Oma never had someone who pulled them together the way May Flower Dawn had done for Carolyn and Mom. She had built a bridge so the same mistake wouldn’t be carried into the next generation.
Sometimes seeds fell on rock, but they still found a way to grow, to press up toward the sun, to cling to life no matter what. Oma had done that. She had left a legacy. Endure whatever life dishes out. Learn all you can. Count your blessings. Never give up. Keep growing in the Lord.
One week with Oma had changed May Flower Dawn. Oma said once her great-granddaughter had a teachable spirit.
Dawn had been the best of all the women in their family. She had Oma’s drive and ambition, not for possessions, but to become the woman God intended her to be. She had become a nurse like her grandmother, caring for others. Carolyn often wondered what qualities she might have passed along to Dawn, and she realized her daughter had been broken, too, and humbled. But God had not crushed the tender reed.
Carolyn came down for breakfast and found the other guests already on their way out. Etta set a basket of fresh rolls on the sideboard as Carolyn poured herself a cup of coffee. “I was up most of the night reading the letters. I’ve certainly learned a lot about my grandparents… and my mother. Thank you so much for giving them to me.”
Etta smiled. “I grew up on stories of Marta’s adventures. Your oma was a remarkable woman. I would love to have met her.”
The telephone rang. Etta held it out. “It’s for you.”
Georgia. “Jason is being transferred to Brooke Army Medical Center in San Antonio. He’ll be flown to the States in a few days. We’re ready to go home anytime you are.”
Carolyn Skyped Mitch and gave him the good news, then asked, “Is Mom already in bed?”
“No, she fell asleep on the couch while we were watching the news.” He chuckled. “I’m in my office and I can hear her snoring.”
“Can you get her? I have something important to tell her.”
It took several minutes before Mom appeared in front of the monitor. “Mitch said you wanted to talk to me.”
“I’m at Hotel Edelweiss with Rosie Brechtwald’s daughter. Oma loved you, Mom. She was proud of you.”
“I know.”
“No, Mom, you don’t know. But I have proof, lots of it, and it’s all in Oma’s handwriting. Rosie Brechtwald saved all of Oma’s letters. Her daughter gave them to me. You’ll be able to read them when I get home.”
“Did you take lots of pictures?” Mom’s voice had a tremor.
“Yes, Mom. At least a hundred.”
“When you and Faith get home, we’ll have tea and cookies and make an album together.”
“Sounds wonderful.”
They would talk about things they had kept hidden, shine light on the shadows, cast out any remaining doubts.
“I love you, Mom. I’ll see you soon.”
“I love you, too, honey. I always have.”
Love one another, Jesus said. Sometimes it took a lifetime to learn how. Sometimes it took hitting rock bottom to make someone reach up and grasp hold and be lifted from the mire to stand on a firm foundation.
Sometimes a child had to show them how to love, and another child, left behind, had to remind them to take one step at a time.
Faith. How appropriately Dawn had named her child. Every time Carolyn said it, she remembered what May Flower Dawn had dreamed. So did Mom. So did Jason. So did every member of the family. Keep faith. Nurture it. Let it grow. Watch what can happen when you do.
God would light the way. Faith would keep them on the right path.
a cognizant original v5 release november 24 2010