A Measure of Mercy (32 page)

25

C
HICAGO
, I
LLINOIS

A
strid stared at the November calendar. In less than a month she would be halfway through her training in Chicago. Unless she chose to stay at the hospital for additional training. After she had successfully turned the baby in utero, Dr. Barlow had suggested just that. Her staying on.

“You will get far more experience here than you will in such a small place as Blessing.” Sitting on the corner of his desk, he had removed his glasses and polished them with a handkerchief. “I believe you are a woman gifted with a keen mind and a natural sense of what is needed.”

Astrid blinked and almost asked him to repeat himself. Surely he hadn’t really meant what he said. “Th-thank you, sir.”

“Your essay says that your mother is a healer. Is that right?”

Nodding, Astrid tried to remember what essay he was talking about. It must have been on her entrance exam. She’d found it nearly impossible to remember what all she had written in those whirlwind hours.

“And you’ve learned all you could from Dr. Elizabeth Bjorklund? She was leaving here just when I arrived.” He tapped the paper he’d picked up from his desk. “You are very young to have covered all this. Most of our students have been through college and now are in their third year here. Some will go on to internships either here or at other hospitals. That could be you.” He waited, as if expecting her to answer. When she didn’t, he continued. “If you could go anywhere, what specialty would you be interested in?”

She knew he wanted an answer now. “I . . . I don’t know. I’ve not given that any thought at all. We, Dr. Elizabeth and I, were looking for more training in surgery, because she was sure medical techniques had changed in the years since she had been here.” Other than the mission field. Should she tell him about that? “We hope to build a hospital in Blessing.”

“Well, I strongly suggest you give my recommendation some serious thought. If you have any questions, feel free to come and ask. Dr. Morganstein concurs, and I know she is planning on talking with you too.” He stood. “In the meantime, keep up the good work.”

Astrid stood and nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Barlow. I’ll do some thinking and praying on that.” After she’d left the room, she had sagged against a wall in the hallway.

What a shock that had been. A good shock, but still . . . She pulled her gaze away from the calendar now and sat back down in a chair, her coffee cup on the table beside it. So many things to think about, and whenever she tried to spend time really thinking, she fell asleep. Praying was about the same way. She’d tried reading her Bible, and more than once found herself with her cheek on the pages when Elyse came into the room some hours later.

“Just follow the leading you know.”
How often had she heard Pastor Solberg say that? She eyed the bed. With the time she had before evening rounds, she could take a nap, write a letter, or study the book on hands she’d borrowed from the library. Opting to write to Pastor Solberg, she took her writing case out of the trunk under her bed and, propping her back against the wall, set pencil to paper. She didn’t have time to fuss with pen and ink.

Dear Pastor Solberg,

I have wanted to write and ask your opinion on a matter that is troubling me, and I believe now I am desperate enough that I cannot wait any longer. You and I had discussed the prospect that God might be calling me to become a medical missionary in Africa. You said at that time that God would make this clear to me. So far He has not, at least not in a way that I can understand. Yet the thought never goes away.

If He is calling me, would I not begin to have a desire to go there? To feel some kind of peace about what’s ahead? I know that worry is not of Him, and yet I find myself awake in the night, straining to hear His voice like Samuel did. But I hear nothing, and yes, I must confess, I am worrying over this. I still do not want to go to Africa, but I do want to follow God’s will for me.

Help me, please. Pray for this to be made clear. And please pray that I can wait for the answer, if that is what I am being told to do. I cannot afford to lose sleep, as our schedules here are busy, full to the minute, and I am getting so tired.

She stared at her letter. It sounded awfully whiney. A sigh puffed out her cheeks. Maybe she should just toss this in the wastebasket and start over. But when would she have time again? She leaned her head against the wall. Oh, to be able to just sleep until she woke up.

I must close and join Dr. Whitaker on rounds. Greet everyone for me. I miss you all so, but not nearly as much as at first. Perhaps I am adjusting after all.

Sincerely,
Dr. Astrid Bjorklund

Without reading it again, she folded the letter and slid it into an envelope. Once the address was added, she pushed herself upright and, letter in hand, headed for the front desk, where stamps were available and the mail went out.

“Dr. Bjorklund?”

She turned at the call. “Yes?”

One of the nurses from the children’s ward was hurrying toward her. “If you have time before rounds, could you drop by and talk with Benny? He’s been asking for you.”

“Of course. Have they found out anything about his home and family?”

“Not really.”

“Has anyone been looking?”

“That is the job of the social services. We gave them the information.” The older nurse shook her head. “You have to learn the system, you know. There are rules we have to follow.”

Keeping her tone civil in spite of what she wanted to say, Astrid thanked the woman and finished her errand. Who wrote the rules? And wasn’t that little boy more important than any stupid rules? Since Benny had been transferred back to the children’s ward, she paused outside the door and made sure she was wearing a cheerful smile.

Several of the children greeted her when she entered the long room lined by beds on both sides. She stopped at the foot of Benny’s bed and pulled his chart from the rack on the bed frame. According to what was written there, they’d been able to cut back on the pain medicine, and he was considered ready to be sent home if they could decide where to send him. She glanced over the chart to see him sitting against the pillow, arms crossed over his chest, staring at two children playing in the aisle.

Astrid sat down on the side of his bed and waited for him to look at her. When he ignored her, she tapped his arm. “Hey, Mr. Benny, how are you feeling today?”

“My foot itches.” He still refused to look at her.

“I understand that. It’s called phantom pain. It will go away eventually.” She waited some more. If stubborn had a name, it could be called Benny. But perhaps that was what had kept him alive on the streets of Chicago.

“Are you ready to tell me your last name yet?”

He shook his head.

“Do you have a last name?”

He wrinkled his mouth but gave no other response.

“Benny, how are we to find someone to help you if you won’t give us any information?”

A tiny shrug raised his thin shoulders.

She waited again, thinking and praying about what to do next. “Nurse said you were asking for me.”

“You din’t come this morning.”

“I know, but I am here now.”

“Not the orphan place.”

Ah, so someone had told him he would be going there if they found no family. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” She’d have missed the slight nod had she not been watching from the corner of her eye. She’d learned that she could get more information if she acted more disinterested. So he did have siblings. “Are you the oldest?” A barely perceptible headshake. “So you have a big sister. I always wanted a big sister, but I have two older brothers instead.”

He looked straight at her, his gaze far older than any six-year-old she’d known.

“Bigger brother then?”

His eyes dimmed. “He died.”

The whisper near to broke her heart. Tough as he tried to be, the hurt hadn’t left.

Lord God, there has to be a home for Benny
.

Send him to Blessing
.

She’d heard that prompting before but had forgotten to bring it up yesterday as she’d planned. Of course. Someone in Blessing would take him if the hospital would send him there. She leaned forward and wrapped the little boy in her arms.
Benny, we are going to find
you a home and a family. I know Mor would take you without batting
an eye, but you need younger parents. You need brothers and sisters and
cousins and a bed to sleep in and enough food to grow like you should.
All the time her thoughts ran rampant like a herd of frightened cattle, she rocked him gently.

If I were married, I’ d take you.
A vision of a certain broad-shouldered man with laughing dark eyes zipped through her mind. Joshua Landsverk was indeed interesting.
Pay attention here,
she chided herself. Who should she talk to in Chicago about her idea?

How she would love taking this little boy home to Blessing for Christmas. Could they keep him in the hospital that long? Would she get time off at Christmas like Grace had been able to from her school? Schools closed down for the holidays, but hospitals were most likely very busy. Another question to put to someone in charge.

“Benny, I have to go take care of other patients now. I’ll come back later. Can I bring you anything?”

He lifted his head. “Cookies?”

“If I bring you a plate of cookies, will you share with the other children?” His emphatic nod made her smile. “I’ll be right back.” As she left the room, she was mentally counting how many cookies they would need. Someone was bound to say this would spoil their supper. Had she gotten herself in hot water? Perhaps sneaking him one would have been better.

But the cook down in the kitchen smiled back at her request. “I will send ’em up immediately, soon as we can count ’em out. Take them to Benny, is that right?”

“Yes, please. He’s a six-year-old double amputee. Third bed on the right.”

“Lord love the poor child. You go on about your business.” Cook nodded toward a stack of cookies cooling on the counter. “Take one for yourself. Doctors always need a pick-me-up.”

That evening after supper she found a note on her door regarding a meeting with Dr. Morganstein and some others at two in the afternoon, two days hence. They would be discussing possible plans for the hospital in Blessing.

Astrid stared at the note on Dr. Morganstein’s personal stationery. They should have Elizabeth there, not her. But one of the reasons Astrid was in Chicago was to gain the training for the new hospital. Elizabeth would have liked to have taken time off to come, but she didn’t feel she could. She folded the paper and slid it between the pages of her Bible. Time for another session in the dissecting lab with their friend Hank, as they had begun calling the cadaver. Perhaps Dr. Red Hawk would not be there tonight. They’d started the thoracic cavity in class earlier in the day. She really couldn’t continue without him. She picked up her kit and headed out the door. If he didn’t make it, she would go back to dissecting the hand. Amazing creation, the body. The human hands and feet had the highest concentration of individual bones. She mumbled the litany of the bones of the hand on her way up to the laboratory.

Red Hawk was nowhere in sight, so she had a peaceful time further dissecting the hand. Only one other pair of students was in the room, and their discussion made for comforting background noise that kept the darkness in the corners. After she put the cadaver away in the cooler, she left the room. Exhaustion didn’t catch up with her until she was halfway down the worn walnut stairs and sagged against the hand-smoothed banister. Where had Red Hawk been? He knew they were having another exam the day after tomorrow. Or was it already after midnight? She kicked off her shoes and then fell into bed, clothes and all. When the knock on the door woke her, she forced herself to throw the cover back and sit up.

Thank you, Lord, for a real sleep for a change.
She rubbed her eyes and stretched, then grabbed her towel and soap and staggered to the washroom. Maybe cold water would help more than hot.

THE NEXT AFTERNOON she arrived for the meeting dressed in a navy blue gored skirt with a lace inset waist rather than the uniform apron. Wearing her own clothes made her feel dressed up and lent a feeling of confidence, or that is what she told herself. Somehow the fluttering in her stomach didn’t go along with her mind. She had braided her hair and pinned it in a figure eight from neck to crown on the back of her head. Stopping outside the door to take a deep breath, she took another and ordered her hand to stop shaking before knocking and obeying the invitation to enter.

Dr. Morganstein beckoned her to join the others at the chairs circled around a low round table draped in a gold embroidered damask cloth. The ornate silver service waited to the right side of the table in front of Dr. Morganstein. Plates of tea sandwiches, cookies, and jam tarts waited to be passed around.

Astrid’s stomach rumbled, since she’d skipped dinner to get ready on time.

“Let me introduce you to the others,” Dr. Morganstein said with a hand on Astrid’s arm. “You have met my friend Mrs. Issy Josephson.” Astrid nodded and smiled. Should she shake hands or curtsy? What was polite? “And this is her nephew Jason, who is in charge of the foundation the Josephsons set up to expand medical services into rural areas.”

“I am pleased to meet you, Dr. Bjorklund. My aunt has told me much about you.” His deep voice flowed like a peaceful river, and his smile reached his eyes, not just the polite kind that twitched the lips.

“Thank you.” What should she say? “I am pleased to meet you too.”

“And last but not least, Mr. Abramson, who assists our hospital in establishing new programs and services.”

Astrid nodded and smiled at each of them, then took the chair that Dr. Morganstein pointed her to. “I wish Dr. Elizabeth Bjorklund could be here, since she is the one who will be in charge in Blessing.”

“We will be talking with her again. In our conversation last night, she said you knew as much about her dreams for the hospital as she did.” Dr. Morganstein lifted the tea server, and one by one poured the cups full according to the desires of those in the circle. Right now what Astrid wanted more than anything was a glass of water, but she accepted her tea, passed the plates of lovely food, and was careful not to take too many. No matter how ravenous she’d become, she would mimic the others and do exactly what they did.