Until We Reach Home

  She couldn't tell them the truth. She couldn't. She would make up a reason why she couldn't get medical clearance.

  In the meantime, she would contact Tor and tell him that she was returning home. I'm going to have your baby, Tor, and I don't know what to do, she would write.

  She imagined him receiving her letter in his father's store, tearing open the envelope, reading the news. He would stand up to his father and explain why he had to marry Kirsten. He would do the right thingwouldn't he?

  SOFIA FOLLOWED THE other women out of the dormitory and down to the dining hall for breakfast, hoping she would see her new friend, Ludwig Schneider, again. When she recalled meeting him the day before her heart began to speed up-not with fear, for once, but with anticipation. And there he was, standing outside the door, waiting for her-a head taller than most of the other immigrants. He smiled when he saw her.

  "Guten Morgen, Sofia."

  She couldn't help smiling in return. "God morgon. I hope you haven't been waiting a long time. And I hope there is plenty of food left. I'm very hungry this morning."

  He babbled a reply and led her into the crowded dining room. The other immigrants snatched and grabbed for their food again, as if they might never have another meal, but Ludwig seemed to know the best places to sit and what to do to get served, and he made sure they both had plenty to eat. She guessed from the way Ludwig handled himself and the friendly way that he and the waiters got along that he must have been detained here for quite some time. She wished she could ask him how long.

  After breakfast Sofia followed Ludwig upstairs, and he showed her a crowded rooftop where detainees were allowed to go for fresh air. A few minutes later she saw the interpreter she had talked to yesterday walking toward her. Sofia's stomach rolled over in dread, but Mrs. Bjork smiled pleasantly, relieving some of Sofia's fear.

  "Do you have good news about my sisters, I hope?"

  "Your sisters must remain hospitalized, I am sorry to say. But their condition seems to be stable."

  "Thank God. I've been praying for them to get well. How much longer will they be in the hospital?"

  "The doctors aren't certain. But I'll let you know as soon as I find out."

  It seemed strange to hear Swedish again after listening to the babble of incomprehensible languages all around her-even stranger to speak it herself to someone who could understand.

  "If I wrote a letter to Elin, would you be able to deliver it for me? I know that she must be very worried about me being here all alone, and I want her to know that I'm all right."

  "I could make sure that it gets delivered. I have to go downstairs to the Registry Room to translate this morning. They are expecting more Swedish passengers to arrive today." She nodded her head toward the river, where the first of countless ferries had already lined up with boatloads of immigrants. "But I will find you before I leave the island this afternoon and take your letter to her if it's ready."

  "Thank you so much. I know it will relieve Elin's mind. She worries about Kirsten and me so much."

  "If there is any other way that the Aid Society can help you," Mrs. Bjork said as she walked slowly toward the stairs again, "please be sure to let me know."

  "I-I do have a question," Sofia said, following behind her. "I met someone who has been kept here in detention for a long time, and I'm wondering what's going to happen to him."

  "People who are refused entrance can take their case to the Board of Appeals, which meets periodically. Perhaps he is waiting to do that. Or, if his plea has been refused already, he is probably waiting for the next ship that is returning to his home country."

  "He has been very kind to me, helping me and making everything easier for me. I want to thank him but I think he is speaking German. Could you-"

  "I'm sorry, but I only speak Swedish and English."

  "Could I write him a note and maybe you could translate it into English, and then he could give it to another translator, who could change it into German and-"

  Mrs. Bjork smiled but shook her head. "I'm sorry, but that would be a long, laborious process. And I'm not really authorized to do things like that."

  Sofia glanced over her shoulder to where Ludwig waited for her. She wanted to tell him so many things, and she saw the same eagerness in his eyes whenever they tried to converse. "But ... isn't there some way-"

  "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I can't help you. I need to go now, but I'll come by later for the letter to your sister."

  "Yes. Thank you." She watched the woman turn away, already missing the sound of her own language, and found Ludwig gazing at the Statue of Liberty a short distance away on a nearby island. Everyone arriving in America had cheered for joy when they'd first spotted the statue welcoming them to this country, lighting their way to a brand-new life. Now everyone on this rooftop waited to learn if they would be allowed to enter or be sent back to their old countries.

  "My sisters are getting better," she told Ludwig, smiling as she held up their two bags. "Maybe we will be able to leave here soon."

  Ludwig answered her in German. She couldn't understand what he said, but she loved the sound of his deep, soothing voice. She would miss him. Sofia looked up at his gentle face in surprise as she realized just how much. She had made a friend. He had helped her through a difficult time-and once she left Ellis island, she would never see him again.

  "Why am I always saying good-bye to people?" she murmured. "Why does life have to be so hard?"

  He turned to her with a look of concern as if detecting the sadness in her voice. She smiled to reassure him and made a fiddling motion with her arms, begging him to play for her. "I won't spoil the time we have today by worrying about tomorrow," she said.

  He found a place to sit down and pulled out his instrument. At first, he played scales and exercises without melodies, as if warming up his fingers. Then his violin began to sing again-sad, poignant tunes; happy, spirited ones; hymns and folk songs and dances. Everyone on the rooftop seemed to enjoy his performance, applauding after each song, shaking his hand and thanking him in countless languages. When he grew tired and laid down his violin, Sofia joined him on the bench. She pulled out her Bible and handed it to him. "Would you show me where to find more verses in the Bible?"

  He nodded in understanding, answering her in German as he got out his own Bible. They had nothing else to do. And it would help pass the time, which seemed to stand still on Ellis Island.

  The first verse he showed her was John 14:23: Jesus replied, "If anyone loves me, he will obey my teaching. My Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him."

  Sofia had kept the piece of paper from yesterday so she could look up the verses later, but Ludwig gently took it from her and began drawing on it again. Beneath the sketches of their families he drew a picture of a simple square house with windows and a peaked roof and smoke curling from the chimney.

  "Ein Haus," he told her, pointing to the picture and then the verse. He sighed, gesturing to the city across the river, then to himself.

  "I want a home, too," she told him, "more than anything else. Elfin asked me what I wished for in America, and that's really all I want-a home. Do you think we will ever have one, Ludwig?"

  Again, he must have detected the sorrow in her voice. He turned back one page in his Bible to the beginning of the chapter and pointed to John 14:1: "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you."

  "So you believe that God does have a place for us-not just in heaven someday, but now, on earth?"

  She could tell by his expression that he hadn't understood her, but he turned to another place in his Bible, Romans 8:28: And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.

  "Is that true?" she murmured, more to herself than to Ludwig. Could God really be working for her own good in the midst of all the losses she'd faced? She wan
ted so much to believe it, but what about her mother's death? How had that worked anything good?

  Sofia drew a circle around the verse on her piece of paper. She would have to think about it some more before she was willing to believe it was true. She looked up at Ludwig, wanting to ask him for more verses that might help her understand, but he had spotted someone he knew near the stairs and was waving to her. He slid his Bible onto Sofia's lap and stood, gesturing for Sofia to watch his bag with his violin.

  The round, plain-looking woman was clutching a sheaf of papers just like Sofia's translator, Mrs. Bjork, had carried. Perhaps this was Ludwig's German translator.

  He talked with her for awhile, and when he came back he showed Sofia a verse from Acts 17:3 1: For he has set a day when he will judge the world with justice by the man he has appointed.

  Ludwig must be referring to the Board of Appeals that Mrs. Bjork had mentioned. Maybe Ludwig's case would be decided soon. "I'll pray for you, Ludwig," she told him. She folded her hands and bowed her head to explain what she meant. He nodded and folded his hands in prayer, too.

  Days passed, and Sofia found that she didn't mind waiting at all. Her sisters were getting well, and in the meantime, she spent every day with Ludwig, listening to his violin music, eating with him, walking around the detainees' courtyards with him as far as they were allowed to go. They watched the ships passing up and down the river, and the immigrants coming ashore looking frightened and forlorn, filing into the huge Registry Room downstairs. The fortunate ones left on ferries to the mainland a few hours later to begin their new lives. The unfortunate ones joined her and Ludwig in the detention pens.

  Sofia and Ludwig were on the roof one morning when he spotted his translator again and hurried over to speak with her. Sofia watched as the woman explained something to him, and the longer Ludwig listened the more agitated he became, running his hands through his dark hair and pacing in front of her. When the woman finished, Ludwig began pleading with her, shaking his head, gesturing to the city across the river, his voice growing louder and louder until Sofia could hear him, even at a distance. At last the woman left and Ludwig returned to sink down onto the bench beside Sofia. She saw his disappointment turn to despair.

  "I'm so sorry, Ludwig," she said, touching his arm. "I can tell that she brought you bad news. I wish I could do something for you. You've helped me so much."

  They sat in silence that way for several long minutes as he wrestled with his emotions. His bag lay open at his feet, the violin on top of it, but when he looked down and saw it, he shoved the violin deep inside the bag. Then he took his Bible from Sofia and stuffed it in beside the violin, shutting the clasp on the valise with a snap. She waited, and when he was finally ready to talk, his words came out in a rapid burst.

  She heard sorrow and anger in his voice as he gestured to America on the other side of the river, then shook his head, pointing to himself. He sighed, then pointed emphatically down the river toward the Atlantic Ocean and waved farewell. They weren't going to let him into America. They were sending him back home.

  "No ... oh, Ludwig, no. I'm so sorry. It's so unfair. Isn't there anything you can do?"

  He talked for a long time, slower now, unburdening all of his sorrow, just as she had done on their first day together. She couldn't understand his words, but she knew what they meant-and she knew that his heart was breaking. When he finally stopped talking, he glanced all around as if looking to see if anyone was watching him, then pantomimed swimming across the river once again.

  "You can't swim that far. You'll drown."

  He shook his head and spread his hands wide as if to say, "I have no choice," then pretended to swim again. Sofia wondered how he would ever make it that far with his lame leg. The river looked too wide for even a strong swimmer to cross. Ludwig folded his hands and put them under his face like a pillow, closing his eyes to mimic sleeping. Then he made swimming motions again.

  "No ... You can't go at night! It will be even more dangerous! Ludwig, please don't do it." But she saw the determination in his eyes and knew that he wasn't listening to her pleas-even though she was certain he understood them.

  "America," he said firmly, pointing to the city. "Ludwig Schneider," he said, nodding his head decisively. She saw how much America meant to him, how badly he wanted to stay, and Sofia was sorry for not appreciating everything that Elin had gone through to bring them this far.

  Sofia opened her Bible to the book of Romans and to the verse he had shown her the other day. "It says that God will make everything work together for your good, Ludwig. Don't you believe that?"

  He reached over to her lap and gently closed her Bible, shaking his head. She wished she knew how to encourage him. She scanned through the list of verses he had shown her, searching for one that would encourage him, and pointed to Psalm 27:14: Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.

  Ludwig glanced at her, then shook his head, unwilling to open his own Bible. She longed to help him the way he had helped her, but she didn't know what to do. He had blessed her with his violin music, but the only thing she possibly could do in return was sing. What would he think of her voice? He was a gifted musician and she a mere amateur who sang to her cows and chickens back home.

  She was about to give up the idea when she remembered the verse she had opened to on the first day: Sing the glory of his name; make his praise glorious. Ludwig had given her hope with his music and had helped her find God's promises again. If the only thing she could give him in return was a song, then she would offer one to him. She rested her hand on his arm and looked in his eyes.

  "Ludwig? I want to sing something for you. It was my mother's favorite hymn; that's why I memorized it. It's called, `Children of the Heavenly Father.' I-I haven't been able to sing it since she died, but ... but I want it to be my gift to you."

  She cleared her throat, staring down at the ground for a moment, wondering if she would be able to get through it. Then she lifted her chin and looked into his eyes again as she began to sing.

  "'Children of the heavenly Father safely in His bosom gather; nestling bird nor star in heaven such a refuge e'er was given.' " Ludwig listened intently, never taking his gaze off her face. She had to look away or she would start to cry and be unable to sing. She could tell he was still watching her, though, as she started the second verse.

  "'God His own doth tend and nourish; in His holy courts they flourish. From all evil things He spares them; in His loving arms He bears them.' " She swallowed, struggling to continue singing as she remembered the feeling of God's arms around her as she'd slept in that terrible dormitory the first night. Ludwig had helped her find that comfort, and now he needed it himself.

  "'Neither life nor death can ever from the Lord His children sever; unto them His grace He showeth and their sorrows all He knoweth.' " Tears rolled down her cheeks. Sofia understood sorrow and loss, but for the first time in her life she truly comprehended the strength of God's love for her. God was with her there on Ellis island, so far from home. She and Ludwig were both in His hands. No matter what happened, she could trust God.

  She turned back to face Ludwig and sang the last verse to herself as well as to him. "'Though He giveth or He taketh, God His children ne'er forsaketh; His the loving purpose solely to preserve them pure and holy.'"

  Ludwig had not taken his eyes off her the entire time, but when she finished, he closed them. She could tell by the way his strong, square chin quivered that he was battling his emotions. When he opened his eyes again, he reached for Sofia's hand and lifted it to his lips for a kiss.

  "Danke, Sofia," he whispered. "Danke."

  He pointed to a bird sitting atop a nearby railing, then to her. He smiled. Ludwig Schneider had a magnificent smile, even though grief still lingered in his eyes.

  "You're welcome," she said. And she realized with surprise-and joy-that she had just sung her first song in America.

  ~2Qpfer CJ/J!een

  ELIN HAD NO
idea where she was or how she'd gotten there. She lay in a white iron bed in a stark white room while death held her body in its grip, trying to shake the life out of her. Her head ached. Her entire body ached. She was out of her mind with fever. White-clad men and women peered at her from time to time. The people in the beds all around her were as sick as she was.

  Every once in a while she would remember Sofia and Kirsten, and she would try to call out their names. Her efforts would lead to fits of coughing, and a nurse would hurry to her side to quiet her. What had happened to her sisters? Where were they? Were they as ill as she was? No one could understand her or answer her questions.

  She had made a huge mistake in coming to America. She had wanted to save her sisters from Uncle Sven, but she had made their lives worse, not better. Elfin had promised Mama that she would take care of Kirsten and Sofia, but instead she had lost them. As she lay helplessly in bed, Elfin could only trust her sisters to God's care-and realized that she should have done that from the very beginning.

  At times Elin wondered if she was going to die. She deserved to die in punishment for seeking comfort from Uncle Sven, for allowing him to do what he did. He inhabited some of her feverish dreams, taking her to such horrible, fear-filled places that she was certain she had entered hell. Other times, her dreams took her to such beautiful places that she wondered if she was in heaven and would soon see her mother.

  As the grip of her fever slowly loosened, Elin became more and more aware of her surroundings in the hospital room and how kindly the nurses treated her. She couldn't understand a word they said, but their voices were soothing, their gestures gentle as they offered her sips of water and bathed her brow with cool water and tried to make her comfortable. Now and then she would attempt to talk to them, hoping that one of them would be able to understand her.