15For days, I wandered around my apartment, aimlessly. I did not go to work, and after a week, I lost my job. Ella visited me every day after returning from work at the hospital, but I barely spoke to her. She would just tidy up the apartment, cook me some dinner, and hug me good-bye, saying it would be all right. But I didn't believe her.
A letter from Ethan arrived, probably the last one he had wrote. It was dated December 12th, 1917. I held it for a moment before tearing it open.
My dearest Leslie,
As I write to you, I am in a battered old tent and my fingers numb from cold. This life has shown me that I lived a life of one very fortunate back home. I miss you with all of my heart and long for the day that I can hold you in my arms again. And I long for the day we shall marry and become one.
Though life here is grim, I have learned to thank the Lord for every day I live. He has given me so much, though I live in filth right now. I have a life, a fiance, and plenty of good friends. I know that if anything were to happen to me, my wise and wonderful Leslie would trust that God would take care of her. Only He truly can.
So keep your faith, my love. I will soon return home to you, but until then, I trust God will be your only protector. And of course, loyal Ella. Be strong!
Love,
your ever devoted,
Ethan
His words left me with no feeling. I knew that he was right, but what could I do? I could see no proof that God even existed, so why should I trust what could be a fairy tale?
Soon thousands in the city were ill with what was being called the spanish influenza. Ella came to see me, exhausted, each day. She spoke of the pain and death that she saw as she nursed the ill. She told me of little children, crying out for their mothers before dying. Of ill war widows, reaching for the husbands that are no longer alive.
Her descriptions barely touched me, for I was numb from pain. But still, in my heart, I knew that I wanted to help. And so one day I told her that I would help nurse the sick. Overjoyed that I was showing signs of recovery from my deep depression, she jumped up, grabbed my arms, and spun me around the room, laughing.
"I'm so glad, Leslie," she said. "This will do you good. Helping does a body good."
The hospital smelled of death. But I was there to serve, not think critically. Soon I was holding glasses of juice up the the lips of sick patients, taking their temperature, and telling ill children bedtime stories. But for all my helping, still they died. Some lived, but so many died.
I worked for three weeks until I fell ill with it. At first, my throat hurt, but I thought it was just from telling too many long bedtime stories. But soon I had a fever, headache, and bad cough. Ella had the doctor check me and when he said that I had the sickness, sent me home. Ella went with me.
For the next two weeks, she devoted all her spare time to caring for me, often staying up all night. When it was evident that I would pull through, she went to sleep and slept for hours. I owed my life to her.
I began working again and by the end of Summer, I heard word that Martin's wife, Gina, had died from the influenza. I wept at the thought of poor Martin, a blind widower. But by September, I found that Gina was not the only one who had died.
Rosalie telegramed me, writing that Mother had died of the influenza. I dropped the telegram in shock. I had never gotten along with her, but still she had been my mother, the one that bore me. I did not know what to feel. But then, I felt as though I had no feelings left.
The war ended that Autumn and by Spring, Stuart, William, George Rush, and Ella's Ronald had returned safely home. Rosalie, though suffering greatly from the loss of Mother, was having her wedding to George as planned. She invited me to the May 18th wedding and I knew that I had to go. She was my only sister, and after the loss of her mother, she needed me.
I also heard from a teacher friend of mine that a small school for children orphaned from the spanish influenza was starting out West in Wyoming. And then I did something I never had before. I fell on my knees and truly prayed.
"God," I whispered. "I know I haven't been very devoted to You. Sometimes I've hated You. But I want to change now. And I need Your help. Please lead me in the direction which I should go. I know now that I want to serve You, for You are the only thing in this world that cannot die. Please guide me. I want to serve Your people."
Suddenly, I did not feel alone and confused. I felt truly fulfilled and ready for anything. And I knew that it was my duty to go to that school. And I knew that Ethan truly had been right.
I wrote to the young widow who was starting the school and said that I would like to teach for it. And then I rushed off to tell Ella my plans. She cried when she heard that I was leaving, but wished me the best.
"Leslie," she said. "You have found your place. Take care, my friend. I know that God will keep you safe."
I packed everything I owned into three luggages and a trunk, except for my white afghan blanket, which I gave to Ella. I promised her that we would be together again soon. And then I left on a train, this time alone, without Ethan's shoulder to lean on.
I arrived in Chicago and William came to pick me up, himself driving the car. He had grown into quite a handsome young man. The house looked the same, but older. Rosalie came rushing out of the house with her arms opened wide and gathered me in a long hug. She still was divinely beautiful, but looked much older and sad eyed.
My Father soon rushed up to me and gave me a hug and welcomed me home. Stuart, who was in town for the wedding, hugged me and so did Martin. It was wonderful to see them all again and for the next few days, we walked around town, helped set up the house and garden for the wedding, and played games of checkers, chess, and cards while sipping tea and coffee. I also got the meet Stuart's wife, Helen, who was a plump blond haired, brown eyed young woman full of kindness and joy.
Rosalie's beautiful wedding came, her lacey dress looking a bit old fashion, but still gorgeous. The long lace sleeves of her dress draped over Greorge's shoulder as he kissed her for the first time as Mrs. Rush. When she smiled, she seemed radiant. And I knew that she would be happy.
The next day, I stuffed a few things from my old room into my trunk and got onto a train, this time leaving from the River Grove station. Rosalie was off on her honeymoon with George, but Father, William, Martin, and Stuart took me to the station. I tearfully said good-bye to each of them with a hug and looked out the window at them waving as I rode away into the unknown world ahead of me.
The town was Ervay, Wyoming. I got off the train and stepped onto the wooden platform timidly. But I knew God would make a way, which gave me a boost of confidence. Mrs. Essler, the widow who was in charge of the school, said that she would meet me at three 'o clock. I looked at the black steel framed clock which sat on top of the train station roof. My train had been early and it was two-thirty. I would have to sit down and wait, but the mountainous view was a beautiful sight.
As I turned towards the bench, I saw a sunburned cowboy standing on the platform, looking North, hands on his hips. He looked so familiar, but I did not know why. I did not know any cowboys after all.
He turned his head, looking at the mountains to the East. As I saw his profile, I gasped. It was Ben!
I quickly set down the luggages I was holding and ran to him. I stumbled a bit, for I was thoughtlessly excited. He seemed puzzled once he saw me.
"Ben, Ben!" I cried.
Then he smiled and hugged me for a long time. I was crying tears of joy by then. At last I was with Ben, my dear friend!
"Oh, Leslie," he said, letting me go. "Look at you! You've become quite a lady!"
"And you!" I exclaimed. "All sunburned and dressed like a cowboy! Are you a rancher now?"
"Yup, I sure am!" he said with a smile. "And what the heck brings you out here?"
"I've come to work at the orphan school," I said. "I had no idea you'd be here! In this very town!"
"I have a ranch two miles North of here," he said proudly. "And how is your husband? I trust you two have tied the knot by now?" he asked.
"No," I said sadly, looking at my shoes. "He was killed in battle."
"Leslie," Ben said with kindness. "I'm so sorry." He hugged me once more.
"Did you fight?" I asked.
"Nope," he said, hanging his head with shame. "Flat feet."
"Oh," I said knowingly. "I hope I'll see much of you while I'm living here."
"I trust you will," he said with a smile. He put on his cowboy hat and tipped it politely.