No Distance Too Far Read online

  Since she’d come in after supper the night before and been shown straight to her guest room, she’d not seen any of the campus. Mrs. Abercrombie patted her arm. “Have you been in the South before?”

  “No. This is my first time. I’ve lived in North Dakota all my life.”

  “Up there where it is so cold that people can freeze to death in their houses?”

  “Yes, I am sure that has happened, but usually not if there is wood or coal for a fire. Sometimes people even burn straw or hay twists if they are desperate.”

  “Well, keeping warm is not a difficulty where you are going.” Mrs. Abercrombie smiled up at her. “The building we are in was the first to be built here back in the late 1700s, when the college was established for educating the young sons of planters. Cardin didn’t begin sending missionaries to other parts of the world until 1890, so while our college has already celebrated our centennial anniversary, our program for missions isn’t really that old.”

  By the time they had toured the campus, Mrs. Abercrombie informed her there would be a tea the next afternoon for her to meet the other mission candidates in the program. She leaned closer. “Several of them are single and very handsome. With your striking blue eyes and warm smile . . .” She stopped and rolled her eyes. “My husband always says I see romance everywhere.” Her chuckle made Astrid smile. “You are now free until suppertime. I’d suggest you unpack and get settled in, because you have a tight schedule ahead.”

  “Thank you. And thank you for the tour. What a lovely campus, and the flowers, well, my mor would be absolutely thrilled to see all these lovely flower beds and bushes. The magnolia trees—I’d read about them but to see them growing like this . . . This most certainly is a different world than home.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. If you have any other questions, please feel free to ask one of us.” Mrs. Abercrombie turned to leave. “You can find your way to the dining room, can you not?”

  “If I get lost, I’m sure someone will show me the way. Thank you again.”

  Astrid watched her hostess smile and float away. How did she walk like that, so gracefully? Maydell would be green with envy. Astrid slipped into her room and, after closing the door, leaned against it to survey her new home. The walls were painted a lovely yellow and framed with white woodwork. Lace curtains graced the window, and French doors opened onto a peaceful courtyard. While the day was much like the cold and damp of Chicago, here a tiny breeze kissed the tree leaves. There was no such thing as a breeze on that northern lake; there was only wind or no wind.

  She had a desk, bed, and chest of drawers, and a closet with shelves and sliding doors. A yellow rug brightened an aged hardwood floor, and a yellow print cushion softened the desk chair. The glass door showed a wicker chair and table that invited her to sit in the shade and enjoy the courtyard—when it warmed up, that is.

  Within an hour she’d emptied her trunk, hung her clothes, and found homes for all that could be folded. Her books lined the shelves above the desk, and her writing kit now lived in the central desk drawer. She pulled her trunk out into the hall, where someone was supposed to pick it up for storage. It was not hard to believe that this had been someone’s home at one time, before it was donated to the school.

  She sat down at the desk and dashed off a letter to her mother.

  Dear Mor and Far,

  I have arrived safely and already had my incoming interview with Dean Highsmith, dean of the missionary school here at Cardin College. He is a pleasant gentleman and easy to talk with. He was not pleased when I said again that I am signing up for two years and no more. While they do accept some people for two years, they prefer a much longer commitment. He said that the missionary board may not accept my application for that reason and also because I am young and single. If they turn me down, then I shall know that I have done my best and, as always, the outcome is in God’s hands.

  I cannot tell you how close I came to changing trains and heading west. I wish that I were more certain that what I am doing is God’s will. One step at a time. Right now the staff thinks I have a tight schedule, but they have no idea what my life was like in Chicago. This will seem like a vacation. I do hope I can find something medical to do to keep my hands in tune.

  I’ve enclosed my address. Please give it to everyone who wants it, as I would so love news from home. Here I will have time to answer them. I will write to Elizabeth immediately. I’m afraid she might be furious with me, but I hope not.

  Love from your daughter,

  Astrid

  As she read it over, she thought through the day’s conversations. Even though she had been homesick and overwhelmed in Chicago, she’d still had the sense that she belonged there, if only for a time. But here she felt nothing fit. Where was that peace Mor and Pastor Solberg said came when in God’s will? How long did one need to wait for it?

  So sleepy she could hardly finish addressing the envelope, she unpinned the coil of wheaten hair at the base of her skull and lay down on the bed for a nap. When she woke it was dark outside and her clock said ten o’clock. Ignoring the growling of her stomach, she undressed and crawled back in bed. Would she be in trouble for missing supper? What were the rules here?

  2

  We missed you at supper last night.”

  “I’m sorry. I fell asleep and didn’t wake up until long past suppertime.” Astrid set her tray down on the table next to the gentleman who had spoken to her.

  “You must have needed the sleep. You came directly here from medical school?”

  “I did.” She held out her hand. “I am Dr. Astrid Bjorklund.”

  “And I am Dr. Heinrich Gansberg, and this is my wife, Irene. I hear you are our newest medical prospect.”

  “I am glad to meet you. Please accept my apologies for last night.” She sat down and let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. People would be friendly. She would be welcomed. She wasn’t sure why she’d feared she wouldn’t be, but irrational fears seemed to be her lot lately. “Where are you from?”

  “Pennsylvania. Reading, to be exact.”

  She poured milk over her oatmeal. “You had . . . er . . . have a medical practice there?”

  “I did, until we felt the call to come here.”

  Astrid turned slightly on her chair. “Would you mind if I asked you some questions?”

  “Not at all. Ask away.” Deep commas on either side of his mouth obviously came from smiling a lot.

  “Forgive me for being blunt—that seems to be a trait of mine— but I’m still not sure if this is where I am supposed to be. What made you decide to come here?”

  “Well, our children are grown. In fact, our oldest son is taking over my practice. Years ago I dreamed of becoming a missionary. After I went to medical school, Irene and I were married, and I was invited to become part of an established practice in the rather midsize town of Reading. We went there, and there we’ve been ever since.”

  Astrid began eating while she listened.

  “Until the doctor began having dreams of the mission field again,” Mrs. Gansberg added, her smile gentle on the man beside her. “And they wouldn’t leave him alone. Then a missionary came to our church.”

  “And still I hesitated.”

  “So God sent a little child.” Mrs. Gansberg wiped her mouth with her napkin and laid it back in her lap.

  “A child?” Astrid put her spoon down to give her full attention.

  “A little negro boy was brought to our town by a local minister and needed a home.” The doctor smiled at his wife. With matching silver hair and blue eyes, they might have been sister and brother rather than husband and wife.

  “We had a spare bedroom, and the child needed medical care, so he came to stay with us.” Mrs. Gansberg took up the telling again, the two going back and forth as if they’d rehearsed their speech.

  “Adam had a large growth on the side of his neck, a goiter. After extensive prayer and research, my colleague and I removed it.”r />
  “I’ve never prayed so hard in my life. We all did. He was such a darling little boy.”

  Was. Did the child not live? Astrid could hardly keep from jumping in to ask questions.

  “The surgery was successful. He has a scar on his neck, but that will fade with time.”

  “He was from the Zulu tribe in South Africa, and as he learned English, he said to us, one too many times, ‘You must go.’ ”

  The two exchanged a look so filled with love that all Astrid could think of was her mother and father.

  Mrs. Gansberg laid a hand on her husband’s arm. “So we are going.”

  “I wrote to the school here, told them our story, and asked if they had need of a doctor.”

  “That was six months ago, and here we are.”

  “Did I understand someone to say that you are a nurse?” Astrid looked to Mrs. Gansberg.

  “Not by schooling but by assisting me and teaching classes in hygiene and family care to the miners’ families up in the hills. Cholera nearly wiped the town out one year. After that we got the mining company to provide clean water and take care of the wastes. I hope to do the same in Africa.” Dr. Gansberg nodded, emphasizing his point.

  “So many diseases can be prevented,” his wife added.

  Astrid leaned forward. Such a fascinating couple. “How long have you been here?”

  “Three months. You will learn about the diseases endemic to the area where you will be assigned and learn what you, as a doctor, can do. As you already know from your work in Chicago, some diseases can be cured, but for others the best we can do is to ease some of the symptoms. We will be returning home to gather supplies and then will leave from New York.”

  “God is so good to give us this privilege.” Mrs. Gansberg refilled her husband’s coffee cup from the carafe on the table.

  “How can you bear to leave your home and family?” Astrid spread jam on her toast. They are so certain, it just glows from them. Lord, you know I don’t feel that way or think that way. What is wrong with me?

  “Don’t you worry, Dr. Bjorklund.” Dr. Gansberg patted her arm. “God has a special job for you to do, and He will make it all clear.”

  “Thank you.” She sighed. “I hope so.” As they left the table, she glanced up to see a young man staring at her from a nearby table.

  “Are you really a doctor?” he asked.

  His emphasis on really straightened her spine instantly. She kept her voice mild. “Yes, I am.”

  “You’re obviously not a member of the clergy, however.”

  “No. Are you?”

  “Yes. Recently ordained. I will be teaching at our training facility for natives in Africa.”

  “Well, Reverend . . .” She waited for him to fill in the blank.

  “Highsmith. The dean here is my uncle.”

  “Have you been to Africa before?”

  “No, but I have always planned to go there. I am the third generation in our family to fulfill this calling.” He spoke as if he dared anyone to challenge him.

  Like Dean Highsmith’s young assistant, this man needed to take some of the starch out of his collar, Astrid thought, but kept her face as neutral as possible.

  “I am surprised they are allowing a young unmarried female like you to participate in our program.” The way he said it made sure she knew how he felt.

  “I believe the need for medical doctors is paramount.” She could hear the stiffness in her own response. How could this young High-smith be so different from his uncle, who despite having some misgivings about her, was open to whatever the Lord intended?

  “I’m sure male doctors are preferable.”

  “Perhaps, but sometimes you have to take what you can get. I’ve always believed God has a use for all of us, male and female. Isn’t there a verse about all being equal in the eyes of God?”

  “That is not an exact quote.” If possible his voice grew more stiff.

  “No, but close enough. Excuse me, I have to get to my first interview.” She picked up her tray and left, mentally shaking her head. So much for flies and honey. How many classes would she be required to take with him? she wondered. Somehow she didn’t see a friendship building there, even though God had surprised her with Red Hawk’s friendship. But Red Hawk had never questioned her right to be a doctor. Just her opportunity to take advanced classes. She smiled, then winced as she remembered his disappointment that she was going to Africa when so many of his people needed medical help. Lord, please help me to be understanding. She added another line. And understood would be nice.

  The tea that afternoon where new students were introduced was both pleasant and not so pleasant. The man and woman who were hosting the gathering had returned from Africa due to medical reasons. The man, Rev. Clement, had finally regained his health after nearly dying from malaria. While he was polite, he left her feeling less than welcome.

  As she met the others, she realized she was right in the middle of dissenting camps. Should she be allowed to go or should she not? She heard a comment from a male person behind her about her being too young and female. Why would God tell her to come here if she couldn’t go? Or had God told her? Back to that same old question.

  She kept her company smile in place and a lock on her tongue. Now was not the time to ask the questions boiling beneath the surface. She wanted to spend time with Rev. Clement and his wife, to ask more about their life in Africa, but the tea was not the place. Rev. Clement taught the class on daily life in the bush, which she was looking forward to, after having heard him describe the area where they worked. Primitive was the word that came to mind. Having lived on open plains, she had a difficult time picturing jungle so dense one needed a huge knife called a machete to hack one’s way through. And witch doctors sounded similar to the medicine men of the Indians, only more evil. Did demons really exist? Another question she wanted to ask him.

  HER BIBLE CLASS the next day focused on the New Testament. “To share the love of Christ is our primary reason to live. And our primary reason to go to the rest of the world as Jesus commanded us is to tell the Good News to those who have never heard.” Rev. Thompkins smiled at those in his classroom. “Read and memorize Jesus’ Great Commission at the end of Matthew, for that will be the focus of our studies. Tonight I would like you to read Matthew again and ask God to show you something new in your reading. Be ready to share that tomorrow.” He handed them a list of questions. “These are guides for your studies.”

  When he dismissed the class, Astrid headed for her room to divest herself of one petticoat before settling in the wicker chair in the shade on the veranda. By suppertime she had finished reading the book of Matthew and made some notes. She remembered how she had read through the entire Bible as one of her assignments when she was in high school. But this time she did as her new teacher said and looked for new meanings. She had a list of questions to take to class the next day.

  At supper she sat next to the Gansbergs again.

  “How was your day?” Dr. Gansberg asked.

  “I read the book of Matthew all the way through, all at once. I don’t think I’ve ever done it just like that before.”

  “And what did you learn?”

  “That I have more questions. When I was in confirmation, our pastor always teased me about having so many questions.”

  “Did he give you any answers?”

  “Sometimes. Sometimes he told me to look for the answers, and sometimes he said that I should make my list to ask God when I get to heaven.”

  Dr. Gansberg chuckled. “He sounds like a very wise man.”

  “He is. But he was not able to answer my most recent question.”

  “May I ask what that is, if it is not too personal?”

  “Well, I was wondering if God is really calling me to become a missionary and go to Africa. I still don’t have the answer.” She turned to look at both of her new friends. “You seem so sure. I don’t have that certainty.”

  “But you are here.” Mrs. Gansbe
rg’s smile warmed Astrid all over.

  “I am trying to be obedient. I took the step I thought I should.”

  “Good for you.”

  “But when will I know?”

  The doctor turned to his wife, who replied, “When the time is right, you will know for sure. Our God is a God of wisdom and purpose. He never leaves His people without surety.”

  “Well said, my dear. I knew you would answer better than I.” He leaned closer to Astrid. “My wife has always listened and obeyed God’s Word. I don’t know how she puts up with the likes of me.”

  “Would you pray for me?” The words were out of her mouth before Astrid had time to think. She’d never asked anyone other than her mother and Pastor Solberg to do that. And they didn’t even need to be asked.

  “We most certainly will.” Mrs. Gansberg reached for Astrid’s hand.

  I didn’t mean now. Astrid glanced around, as if they were doing something illegal. But at the warm clasp, she sighed and let herself go.

  “Father in heaven, we know that you love Astrid in ways far beyond our understanding, that you have a definite plan for her life, and that you are revealing your plan step by step. Let her rest in you and in the knowledge of your love so that she can be blessed here in this school. Let her know she is being blessed to be a blessing, be it in Africa or wherever you choose. Thank you for the privilege of bringing her into our lives. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

  She squeezed Astrid’s hand and patted her cheek with the other.

  Astrid realized the doctor had placed his hand on her shoulder. “I feel like I’ve been hugged. The best hug ever.”

  Mrs. Gansberg’s smile put a twinkle in her eyes. “God is like that, the best hugger ever.”

  “I wish you could meet my mother and father—in Norwegian we say Mor and Far. They’re like the two of you. Love just flows out of them.”

  “Ah, Dr. Bjorklund, you have the gift of words, that is for sure. Thank you.”

  They strolled together into the chapel for evening devotions. Astrid looked around. Such a diverse group. And here were two of God’s servants, like Matthew said. Just think, she reminded herself, if you hadn’t come here, you would never have met them. One good reason to have come. She had a feeling there would be more, but when and how she had no idea. She already knew she could do without young Rev. Highsmith. Judge not, that ye be not judged, one of the verses from Matthew floated through her mind. Oh, jumping grasshoppers.I can’t even make it through one day without failing. Lord, I’m sorry.Thank you for your mercy and forgiveness. Could she make it through to bedtime, or was that the whole point of what Jesus had said in the Sermon on the Mount?