When Tomorrow Comes (16 page)
Many were awfully young and not nearly as brave or confident as they pretended to be. Christine’s heart ached for them, and she prayed with all her heart that she might be some encouragement, some measure of light to the ones who were walking into the throes of war without a personal faith.
It was not long before she discovered that many of the young men were notorious flirts. They seemed to hold the opinion that the only reason the young women volunteers were there was to meet some uniformed young Casanova for the beginning of a wild romance. Christine had no such intention, and she was continually having to make that plain.
In spite of the complications, Christine did love the work. Many of these young people had been swept into the military on a wave of public sentimentality or as an open invitation to adventure, to see the world. Few seemed to have given careful consideration to where their choice might take them, and they now were having second thoughts. Not that they would not have made the same choice at a more serious moment if they had felt their country was truly at risk. But the war seemed very far away. Britain might feel threatened by the march of Nazism—but Canada? It didn’t seem too likely.
Every day the local headlines and radio stations broadcast news from the front. Many European countries were being invaded in Hitler’s march to power. Britain and its Commonwealth countries seemed to be alone in trying to halt the destruction. This was serious business. This was not a holiday abroad. Young soldiers were giving their lives. Many were returning from battle with broken or mutilated bodies. Others had been taken as prisoners of war. Christine felt sure this really wasn’t what these young enlistees had in mind.
She would not have attempted to downplay their sacrifice. Far from it. She admired them for the stand they had taken— providing that stand had been taken with an understanding of the potential consequences.
Night after night she listened to the stories of their lives, their secret fears—when they allowed themselves to be serious enough to talk openly. Silly pranks, machismo, and loud laughter often masked how they really felt. But when they did feel safe to share their deeper feelings, it was often an open invitation to point them to Someone who would go with them even behind enemy lines. Several of the young men and women turned up at Sunday services in the local churches.
But there were many more who did not. Who laughed in the face of impending danger and strengthened their own boldness with vulgar speech and swaggering stance. At times Christine wished to shake them into reality. But she knew that tack would never work. They needed love. They needed prayer. They needed a sense that there were those who would listen to them. The volunteers tried hard to supply as much support as they could.
The day finally arrived when the doctor allowed Mary out of bed for the first time. Christine could tell by her face that she still wasn’t without pain, but she bit her lip and held back any comment. Weak from lack of muscle use, she needed support as she took her first steps to the chair that awaited her.
“As soon as we can we will start a regimen of exercise,” the doctor said. “First we want to see how her back will respond to some time in the chair.”
Within a few hours, Mary was ready to go back to her bed. But she had surpassed the doctor’s first-day hopes. The next day she was up for a longer period of time, and the following day she spent almost half of her day in an upright position.
The doctor decided it was time to begin therapy to strengthen the muscles, and Christine was shown a series of movements that she was to help Mary accomplish several times a day. Christine occasionally wondered just who was getting the most exercise. Many nights she went to bed early, she was so weary. She even missed some evenings at the center. She was simply too exhausted to go.
But it was not long until Mary could assume most of the muscle stretches and lifts on her own. Barring complications, Christine knew she would not be needed much longer.
“Why don’t you find a job here, dear?” Mary asked one morning as they worked together with the daily routine. “There must be lots of work available. Calgary is booming, they tell me. And many young people have enlisted and have been shipped overseas.”
“I’ve been thinking about it,” Christine admitted. “If I did find something here, I could stay involved with the service work.”
Christine was feeling that what she was doing with the young recruits was beginning to have significant meaning. She believed she had found her niche in the war effort. By helping to prepare and fortify those who might end up in action, she was doing her part. Perhaps not in actual defense, but in speaking with the young men and women—those who would in the future be defending freedom—of the need for a personal faith in God. Eternal life was of even greater importance than temporary physical life. Christine believed that with all her heart.
There were plans in the making to start a second center. And talk of hiring a full-time chaplain to oversee the program. Ministers from various churches of the city had been donating what time they could afford. With a chaplain dedicated to the work, much more could be accomplished. The city churches would go together to pay the man’s salary. It sounded like a wonderful idea to Christine.
“The work you are doing is so important,” Aunt Mary was continuing. “I’m anxious to get back to my ladies’ group to start filling CARE boxes again. I’ve missed being involved.”
“Well, you have been able to take up your knitting,” Christine reminded her. “I’m sure all those woolen socks will be appreciated by someone, somewhere.”
“I’m going to talk with Jon. I think it’s time for you to be released to look for that job. Maybe he will even have some suggestions.”
Christine was excited. She was sure she’d never find a job quite as perfect as the one she’d lost in Edmonton, but no doubt God was at work in the whole matter. Had she stayed in Edmonton she would not have discovered the Hope Canteen program.
On the twenty-fifth of March, Christine approached the building that Jonathan had suggested for her first Calgary job interview. She was surprised that the whole venture still gave her nervous butterflies. This time she had made an appointment beforehand and came with Jonathan’s reference in hand. She did hope that the interview would go as well as the one with Mr. Stearns and that she would find a boss as nice as he seemed to be.
The man behind the big desk seemed civil enough. Mr. Burns asked logical questions and outlined logical requirements. “I’ve known Jonathan for years, and I don’t think he would recommend you if you couldn’t handle the job,” he said simply. “You can start Monday morning.”
Christine could not believe it had come so easily—and so quickly. She thought back to those treks through the winter cold in Edmonton and her disheartened return at each day’s end. Surely God was indeed in charge. She decided to stop on her way back to buy her aunt Mary a box of candy and her uncle Jon a new necktie. She had a job. She had money in her bank account. She had a place to live—if she still wanted to board with them. And, most importantly, she felt she was making a difference in lives. What more could she ask?
Why didn’t she feel happy? Of course she was happy. No, she was content. She didn’t feel really settled. She wondered if she would ever be truly happy until she was back in the North where she belonged. Anywhere else, she felt like she was just putting in time.
Her thoughts suddenly jumped to Laray. She had been much too busy to even think about him for many weeks. But now the days of caring for Aunt Mary were over. Now she could take up with her own life again.
What was Laray doing now? Had he been transferred? Henry had not said so. Nor had her mother mentioned it in any of their frequent phone conversations.
No, he must still be there. Was he still waiting for a note from her? Suddenly the thought of getting back in touch was appealing. She would like to know what was going on in his life. She wished he could pay a visit to the city. She would like to take him to Hope Canteen. Let him listen to the talk—some of it casual banter, some of it serious as one or another opened hearts about their hopes and fears. She would like Laray to be able to feel the pulse of the young people preparing to serve their country.
Just drop a note
. Could she do that? But what would it signify? Would he be expecting too much?
“No promises,”
he had said.
“I’ll take it from there.”
What had he meant by that? And would he still feel the same way? It had been almost three months since they’d had the conversation. Things may have changed by now.
All weekend Christine thought off and on about writing the note. Once she even sat down with pen and paper.
“Just a
note to say you are doing fine”
—wasn’t that what he had said? That sounded easy enough. But she couldn’t write it. She wished she could talk with Henry. Perhaps Laray might have said something—indicated in some way how he currently felt. But it wasn’t the kind of discussion she could have with her big brother by phone. It just didn’t seem right.
The note was never written.
Christine was pleased at how quickly she was able to get into her new office routine.
She decided she would accept Uncle Jon and Aunt Mary’s kind invitation to be a boarder, at least for a while. They worked out their agreement as to rent, and Christine was sure she could never have made a better arrangement any other place. Nor would she have had more loving care—or better meals. She felt blessed.
All things work together for good,
she often repeated to herself, though it was a wonder to her that God would allow her aunt Mary to endure so much suffering just to get her to Calgary. When she mentioned that fact to Mary, her aunt smiled.
“I don’t think that’s what the verse means—really,” Aunt Mary replied thoughtfully. “I don’t hold God accountable for my fall. It was my own carelessness. I knew the streets were icy, and I shouldn’t have been hurrying so. But you know me. Jonathan is always telling me I need to slow down.
“But once it did happen—that was when God stepped in and made something good come of it. It could have been all just useless pain that accomplished nothing—but God saw to it that it brought about some good. I agree that you are here for a purpose. You have real gifts for helping and listening and sharing your faith that you are using at Hope Canteen. I think that is God’s place for you at the present. What He has in mind for the future, I have no idea. But He’ll let you know that in plenty of time to prepare for it.”
Christine nodded in agreement. She was sure He would. But it would be such a relief to her mind to have it all neatly laid out before her. It was very hard to take it one step at a time.
Her mother phoned. “We were wondering if you’ll be able to come home for Easter. It seems such a long time since we’ve seen you. Henry can’t get away. That new officer is still taking some watching. Henry says Maurice rather loses patience with him at times.
“Henry says Milton—that’s his name, Milton Furbridge— is a bit lacking in police sense. I had to check with your father on that one. He says some people have a natural ability to know what should be done and how and when. In police work that is important—and it makes it so much easier for all concerned. Others have to learn it the hard way. ‘Always bumping their noses against the grid,’ was how your father put it. Anyway, Henry says it is much too far to travel for such a short time.
“I thought maybe you could come, dear. Doesn’t take long to come up on the train. Then catch a ride out with Mr. Carson. You do get a long weekend, don’t you?”
“I’ve a better idea,” Christine suggested. “Why don’t you and Dad come down? He gets a long weekend, too, doesn’t he? You could come on the train, and maybe Henry and Amber could drive up here. At least for Easter Sunday.”
There was silence.
“I’ll have to talk to your father,” Elizabeth finally said. But Christine could tell that her mother was excited about the idea. “You’re sure it’s okay with your aunt Mary?” she asked.
“It was her idea. Just the other day. ‘Wouldn’t it be fun if they could come?’ Aunt Mary said. ‘Maybe Henry and that other boy could meet your folks here,’ she said.”
“What other boy? Danny?”
“No. I think she meant Maurice Laray.”
“Oh, wouldn’t that be nice? But he couldn’t. They’d never be able to leave Milton on his own,” Elizabeth concluded. Christine wasn’t sure if she felt disappointed or relieved about that part of the plan.
“I’ll talk to your father,” her mother was saying again. “It would be wonderful if we could work it out.”
When Christine hung up the phone, she turned to her aunt. “I think they’ll come,” she said, excitement edging her voice. “Mama said she’ll have to talk to Dad, but I could tell she was ready to do some convincing. Unless something happens that he can’t leave, I think they’ll come.”
“Good,” said Mary. “I don’t know when we’ve had a chance to have Easter together. See. That’s another advantage in having you here.”
Christine was already mentally planning all the things she wanted to do with her folks. She’d take them to the canteen one evening and let them see firsthand the work that was being done with the young service personnel. She’d bring them by the building that housed her new job. She’d even give them a peek into her bankbook to let them know she was not squandering her paychecks.
It would be so good to have a nice long visit again instead of hurrying through costly phone calls.
“Oh, I do hope they’ll come,” she explained, kissing her aunt on the cheek. “Thank you for saying we could invite them.”
Mary laughed. “My dear girl,” she said, “your parents are always more than welcome in our home. They aren’t able to visit nearly often enough. We’ll make a great celebration of it. Have all the kids home to join us. I’ll get Lucy working on the plans right away.”
When the word came that her folks were planning to come for the long Easter weekend, Christine began to count the days. And when Henry phoned that they would meet the family in Calgary, her excitement was nearly more than she could contain.
