The Forgiving Heart (The Heart of Minnesota Book 1) (28 page)

CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE

Karlijna had not believed John, but it was May first and she was staring out the window at piles of snow still on the ground.

              Louisa came into the room with the baby in a sling, “I was thinking of taking Rosie to church this Sunday. What do you think?”

             
“It will be good for you to get out,” Karlijna tore her eyes from the window.  “Do you think John will be okay with that?”

             
“He wanted me to go yesterday,” Louisa laughed.

             
“Are we going to get more snow this spring or are we finished?”

             
Louisa patted the younger woman's shoulder, “Wait and see.”

             
Karlijna stood up and sighed, “I see the mail has come. I'm going to go see if there is anything from Michael.”

             
There was nothing from Michael, but Ingrid had written. Karlijna came in and handed the stack to Louisa. She was about to open Ingrid's letter when she looked at Louisa's face.

             
“What is wrong, Louisa?  Are you okay?”

             
Louisa didn't answer.

             
“You had better sit down,” Karlijna pulled out a chair.  “I'll go get John.”

             
Louisa did not sit. She laughed softly, “Yes. Do go get John.”

             
Karlijna started for the door, but Louisa stopped her.

             
“Wait!  I want to tell you first. Sig called while you were getting the mail.”

             
Karlijna turned back slowly, apprehensive.

             
“Hitler is dead.”

             
Karlijna blinked, “Hitler?”

             
“Yes,” Louisa laughed.  “Is it horrible to be so happy that someone has died?  I am happy. I am nearly beside myself with happiness.”

             
Karlijna lay her letter down on the table, “I'll go tell John.”

             
Karlijna wanted to feel some sorrow at the man's death, but she could not. She wanted to feel some shame for this, but even that was impossible for her. She found she could not be happy either.

             
John took the news with as much pleasure and more energy than his wife.

             
Karlijna smiled and started for the house. On the way, she changed course and decided on a walk instead. Heading across the snow-dotted, uneven ground, she began to pray.

             
“Father, forgive me,” she whispered.  “I cannot be sorry such a man is gone from the earth.  He has caused such pain and suffering.”

             
Shall I forgive one of my children who will not forgive another?

             
It occurred to Karlijna for the first time that she was still harboring hatred and unforgiveness in her heart.

             
“How can you say he was your child, Father?  You cannot love him.  He wanted nothing to do with you.”

             
I am not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance.

             
“But, God,” she reasoned with her Maker, though she knew she could not change the truth. “He was my enemy – everybody's enemy.”

             
Your battle is not against flesh and blood.

             
“
It
feels
like I'm battling flesh and blood,” she put her hands to her face. “His treatment of me and of those I love hurt and killed my flesh and blood.”

             
Forgive.

             
“I don’t think I can, God,” she admitted.

             
With man this is impossible, but not with God; all things are possible with God.

             
Karlijna knelt down in the field where she had been standing, “I know, Father, that you loved even him. I know my sins are great – they are sins against you. Yet you took them and put them on your Son. I am sorry for keeping this hate inside. Forgive me and,” she paused for a long while, “please help me forgive Hitler. Help me forgive the men who did evil to me and to my family. Please, Lord, help me forgive because I can't do it on my own.”

             
John had seen Karlijna walk off. He watched her standing still, then watched her kneel.  He knew what the young woman was doing. The man sighed heavily and went in to speak to his wife.

             
“I know you're right,” Louisa admitted to Karlijna later that evening, “but I can't wrap my mind around it.”

             
Karlijna stood up and began clearing the table, “I am not in the position to tell you what is right. I know God called me to forgive.”

             
“And were you able to?” Louisa took a cloth to wipe the table.

             
“I am sure this is not going to end with today. I will have to come to God often to confess my unforgiving heart. I will need to forgive every time I think of them.”

             
“What did Aunt Ingrid have to say in her letter?” Louisa had apparently had enough of that conversation.

             
Karlijna wasn't sorry for the change of topics, “It was strange.  She said a man came to visit her because he had been told she would know where I was.”

             
Louisa stopped cleaning, “Who was it?”

             
Karlijna put the leftover food in the ice box, “He wouldn't say, but he did say he got the information from Mr. Beauchamp.”

             
“Did Aunt Ingrid tell him where to find you?”

             
Karlijna shook her head, “She said she didn't think it was safe – even if I was half a world away. He went away angry.”

             
Louisa shuddered, “I believe you are safe here, but I am glad she didn't tell him.”

             
Karlijna agreed, “I just can't think what Mr. Beauchamp would want from me after all this time. He cannot still be upset that I would not have his letter published.”

             
Karlijna wrote to Michael about the letter from Ingrid and then forgot about it.

A week later,
on the morning of May eighth, Louisa called out to Karlijna who was in the yard trying to capture a loose chicken.

             
“Karlijna, come in. Get John and come in. The President is going to speak at eight o'clock.”

             
Karlijna dropped what she was doing and yelled to John before running inside.

             
The three sat at the table, listening to the general announcements, wondering what the President would say soon. They did not have long to wait.

             
“This is a solemn but a glorious hour,” Truman’s voice crossed the radio lines, clear despite the occasional crackle. “I only wish that Franklin D. Roosevelt had lived to witness this day. General Eisenhower informs me that the forces of Germany have surrendered to the United Nations. The flags of freedom fly over all Europe.”

             
The trio sat in silence, tears coursing down every cheek. They listened to the rest of the announcement. In unison, they bowed their heads together as President Truman ended.

             
“Thank you, Father,” John alone was able to choke out the words, “thank you.”

             
“Amen,” the women's voices were mere whispers.

             
A cry sounded from the downstairs bedroom, “Rosie doesn't want to be left out,” Karlijna laughed through her tears.

             
Louisa stood to get her, “I'd better go tell her then.”

             
John and Karlijna went outside to do their chores. Life on the farm did not allow for time to sit and rejoice over the victory. They must be active in their happiness.

             
Karlijna had mostly forgotten the content of Ingrid's letter in that it did not cross her mind more than twice in the two weeks following its arrival.  However, a letter from Regina brought it back to her attention.

Dear Karlijna,
    May 2, 1945

I am praising God that, now that Hitler is dead, this war cannot last much longer.
I will tell you that as word comes to us about what people have suffered I hurt for you, my friend, knowing that you have been through the pits of hell.

I am writing to tell you of a strange v
isitor we had a few weeks ago. It was a young man looking for you. He refused to give us his name or what he wanted of you. He was a tall man and broad of build even if had not enough meat on his frame. There was something so familiar about him, but I don’t think I ever met him. His hair was cut very close to his head like yours was when we first met, and perhaps that was all that was familiar.

I must confess he frightened me
, though he was never hostile. It was his eyes that were so terrifying. They seemed to be looking straight through me – as though he could see my soul.

I coul
d not tell him where you were. He wore no uniform, so I do not know he was a soldier, but I was still not comfortable giving him your new name or where you are.

The only clue I have is that he told me he got ou
r name from a Frenchman for whom he works. It probably isn’t helpful to know that he spoke perfect German.

I am sorry I didn't write sooner, b
ut I didn't want to alarm you. I decided to tell you only after speaking to Ingrid and finding that he visited them as well.

I do hope we did t
he right thing by refusing him. I will pray for your safety.

Regina

              Karlijna's hand shook as she read. Who could be looking for her? She left her upstairs bedroom and entered the kitchen.

             
“You look like you've seen a ghost,” Louisa said.

             
“I think I have,” Karlijna admitted and handed the letter to Louisa.

             
“This is in German,” Louisa studied it.  “I'm not very good with German.”

             
Karlijna took it and translated it for her.

             
Louisa's face turned white, “Who do you think it is?”

             
Karlijna couldn't dare to guess. She shook her head.

             
Louisa leaned forward and clasped Karlijna's hands, “Do you think you are in danger?”

             
“No,” Karlijna's eyes teared up. “I think I am safe here.”

             
Karlijna sat still for a while longer then rose, “I must write a letter.”

Mr. Sodergaard,    
May 16, 1945

I am writing to you in order to acquire the address of your busin
ess associate, Armand Beauchamp. I have reason to believe he is looking for me. I do not wish, at this time for him to have my whereabouts, so please do not forward this request to him.

I believe I ask little, sir.

Karlijna,
                                                                                                               

             
After finishing that letter she wrote to Michael and told him about her letters from Ingrid and Regina. She did not tell him her suspicions because she did not wish to cause him any concern, but it was nearly impossible for her to not think about it.

             
Michael responded as quickly as he could.

Dearest Karlijna,
   May 23, 1945

I am glad Regina and Ingrid refused to give your location to that man.  I can't imagine what he would want with you, but I feel better knowing he cannot find you.

You asked how my progress is coming with my leg. I must tell you that the doctor says he never expected such a recovery. I still have ugly scars to remind me of what I went through, and I have a limp, but I can get from one place to another without my cane.  When I am tire I find it is better to use it, but that is a far cry better than the crutches I was told I would be using the rest of my life. I am grateful to God for healing me and to you for pushing me.

Sam was in Londo
n the day of the announcement. He said it was a crazy time – people were dancing in the streets. I, of course, am located further north and more secluded.  Nonetheless, it was a happy day here.

I hav
e saved the best news for last. I am coming home. My last day is June first. I will fly to New York on the third. I have to go to Virginia for two to three weeks. Then, I will come home.