More Than a Dream (36 page)

Life on the hill is lonely without my favorite walking partner to argue with on my trek up and down. Fall is my most favorite time of the year, but I know you will tease me and remind me that I say that in the spring too. Like you, winter is my least favorite, but there is much to be said for the brilliance of sun on new snow and the exuberance of a snowball fight.

There is not much other news from Northfield. I dislike bragging, but Edward and I trounced the opposition in the debate on state’s rights last week. We received a hearty round of applause and have now challenged the debating team from Carleton to a match. I will let you know how that goes.

In the meantime, remember that you are held up in all our prayers, mine especially.

Your friend,
Thorliff

November 1, 1895
Dear Thorliff,

When the wind blows off Lake Michigan, it goes right through you, freezing cold and damp to the core. And winter has yet to roar in, which according to my sources will be fierce. One of the boys brought in a woolly caterpillar, and his stripes are wide and really woolly, so that is supposed to indicate a hard winter. This is a city of extremes. Hot and so humid in the summer, cold with a wind that wants to rip one apart in the winter. We had heavy rains this fall and already we are seeing the effects of lack of warmth in our patients. Some of the tenement owners do not heat their buildings anywhere near enough, and the minimum upkeep of replacing windows and walls is ignored. I do not know how they can in good conscience get a decent night’s sleep. I would hope guilt plagues them and gives them nightmares. Dr. Morganstein says I have not begun to see the suffering, but I am already wishing there were more that I could do. You want to write editorials? I can give you real-life stories that would make your hair stand on end.

Remember when you asked me if something was wrong and I said no? Well, there was something wrong, but I felt I shouldn’t tell anyone for fear of worse things happening. I know that might not make sense to you, but now the story has come full circle and I feel I can share. Perhaps this will work into one of your stories someday. Goodness knows, it will read like a novel. I did finally realize who the man was who abducted me. He is the husband of the woman I told you about who died when we did a Cesarian section to try to save the baby. Her husband had pushed her down the stairs, which precipitated the whole thing. Anyway, he’d been shadowing me in Chicago, thus the feeling of someone watching me. When I came home he followed me to Northfield and shadowed me until he got the opportunity to grab me. He wanted to kill me but was already realizing that he couldn’t do that, and then when he heard you calling my name that first evening, he took off into the woods, figuring I would be found or would escape or something. How do I know all this now? He came into the hospital. When I saw him here, I nearly collapsed, thinking he was after me again, but he asked to speak to Dr. Morganstein and me. He confessed the whole thing, begged my forgiveness, and said he has sworn never to drink again. He had gone to confession with his local priest, and the priest said he must give his terrible mixed-up life over to the Lord, and his penance is to never drink again and to confess to us and ask for a way to make restitution. He also had to go to the police and confess, and they kept him in jail for a time, but since I was not hurt and refused to press charges, he is hard at work. I know my father would want him imprisoned forever, so I have yet to tell my parents the whole story.

And yes, I forgave him. I already had in my heart, for as Reverend Johnson said, I cannot let a root of bitterness grow, and I add fear to that, for fear is nearly as choking as bitterness. So Dr. Morganstein has made him into an orderly, and he is such a help with heavy things.

Can you believe what a gracious and amazing God we have who could work all of this out for good?

I am sorry to go on for pages and pages like this, but I had to tell you what had happened. If you would, please show this to my mother and father; first ask my father to not threaten dire destruction when he reads it. I want them to know what happened, but I have no time to write this twice. Please prepare them, as I know you can, and I thank you in advance.

Blessings, my dearest friend.
Elizabeth

November 10, 1895
Dear Elizabeth,

Dare I write Dearest Elizabeth? For that is what I am feeling. I know that there was a deep change in my feelings during and after the horror of that night. And you were right. I had to take a long, hard, fast walk to keep from getting on that train and coming to Chicago to first of all, beat that man senseless, and second, to haul him off to the police. But with the walk and your wise words and reading and rereading God’s Word where He says that He will repay, that vengeance is His, I finally calmed down. I took those verses printed out with me when I gave the letter to your father and mother. I think forgiveness comes easier for women, but both your parents are calmed down again and talking rationally. Evening was probably the best time for them to read the letter because there was no train leaving before the next day.

I stand in awe and amazement at your forgiving attitude. Even remembering how you looked when I found you makes my blood boil, and I have to listen to Paul’s instruction on taking every thought captive. Reverend Mohn spoke on that very thing at chapel, telling how our minds can tear off in all kinds of directions and we can believe things that aren’t true and be frightened with fears that never come about. I think forgiveness fits into this, for if I allow myself to dwell on what that man did, I shall soon be in jail for murder, but if I rely on God’s promise to be my avenger and believe what He says about living a life of forgiveness, I am then the man He desires me to be. I cry out with the man who said, ‘‘Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.’’

Please do not laugh now, but I had to go out to Mrs. Kings-ley’s to pick up her story for the paper. I believe your father delights in teasing me about this bodacious woman, but I think she has a new conquest, for I met a young man from Carleton exiting her home as I arrived. He wore the same shocked, red-eared look that I’m sure I wore when she first accosted me. I still believe that at times there is safety in running. And this has given me another chance to learn about taking every thought captive in order to maintain purity of heart.

Old Tom is predicting early snow this year, and it was cold enough this morning that it could soon be on the way. At least you don’t have to trudge the hill any longer, but I miss your sweet presence by my side.

Yours,
Thorliff

November 30, 1895

Forgive me, Thorliff, for not writing sooner. We had a tenement go up in flames due to a faulty furnace, and since we are the closest hospital, we received most of the victims. Caring for the badly burned patients has taken every moment of the day and night. Please pray for us, as we are weary beyond measure. I ask special prayers because my hand slipped in surgery, and it could so easily have caused terrible repercussions. I have tried to determine the cause of this sudden weakness but so far to no avail. It is hard to remember to praise God in the midst of all this.

Yours,
Elizabeth

December 1, 1895
Dear Mor and Far, Astrid and Andrew,

Thank you for your letters and the package of cheese. I have taken orders and will need three wheels shipped before Christmas. I could go into the cheese distribution business without much effort. You must tell me what price I am to charge, as I have lost contact with the prices of goods since all my meals are provided by someone else. I am sorry to say that I will not be able to come home for Christmas because Mr. and Mrs. Rogers are planning a trip to Chicago to have Christmas with Elizabeth. She cannot get away from the hospital long enough to come home. I have mailed a box to you, and I hope it arrives in good condition.

School is going well, as is the latest novel I am working on. I get so little time to write on it that it might take me ten years to finish. I cannot believe I managed to churn out a chapter a week for all those months. However, perhaps that is the kind of deadline that I need. I am more involved at school, serving on the monthly paper, which is almost like a magazine, and I really enjoy the debate team. We have a match with Carleton coming up, and my partner and I will be arguing on the pro side of whether or not our government should sponsor public works projects. I guess arguing comes naturally to college students. Debates are going on all the time.

My coursework is heavy this year, so I spend a lot of time studying. The Beatitudes and the Sermon on the Mount continue to cause discussions as to what Jesus actually meant and how His words apply to us. I am always grateful Pastor Solberg taught us that the easiest way to understand the Bible is to just read what it says and not try to second-guess the meaning. Although there certainly are passages that manage to be in conflict with each other. Thus all the arguments, or rather discussions.

Elizabeth is back in Chicago at the hospital where she worked for the last two summers, only now she is in medical school there.

How are Knute and the others doing? It was so hard to believe such an accident could happen and just when Swen was so happy. And Mor, what about you? You have been very silent on the subject, but I know this must be so hard for you to bear.

Andrew, is that new dog anywhere near as smart as Paws? If so, I’m sure you have him trained to bring up the cows by now.

My love to all of you. I remain your dutiful son and brother,

Thorliff