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.