Child of Her Heart. Irene Brand

counseling, he had told her to remember, “When your burden seems the worst, a way out will be provided.” She repeated the words over and over, and she went to bed, clutching the paper Adam had given her. She dreaded to turn out the light, but she went to sleep right away. Suddenly she awakened overwhelmed with heaviness and despair.

      God can’t help me. Adam Benson can’t help me. Nobody can help me. I’ll do what Alice Simmons did. Surely I can be as brave as she was.

      Sonya slid out of bed and headed for the window, but she became conscious of the slip of paper in her hand. Her shaking fingers reached for the telephone, and she dialed the number for We Care, fearing no one would answer.

      “We Care. May I help you?”

      “Yes, please. I’m considering taking my own life.”

      The woman’s voice at the other end of the line spoke soothingly, “Tell me what’s bothering you, ma’am.”

      At the end of a half hour, Sonya terminated the conversation feeling relaxed, although the woman hadn’t said much. She had simply let Sonya talk, but that had been comforting. Remembering the woman’s last words from the Bible, “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning,” Sonya went to sleep again.

      Once more during the night, she awakened, shaking violently. She dialed the number. A man answered and, speaking calmly, he discussed the good things in life, ending with, “Why don’t you try remembering all the pleasant times you’ve enjoyed through the years. Usually they outweigh the bad days.”

      After considerable effort, Sonya blocked out the past two years and thought of her childhood on the farm. She envisioned fields of growing corn, ripening wheat and the scent of new-mown hay. She eventually went to sleep, to be awakened by the ringing telephone. The sun shone brightly through her windows.

      She reached for the phone receiver. “Good morning, Sonya. This is Marie Benson. How do you feel?”

      “Tired, but safe, thanks to you and your friends.”

      “Adam and I want to talk with you again. When will it be convenient for you?”

      “As soon as I shower and have breakfast. Do you know, I actually feel hungry this morning?”

      “Great! That’s a good sign. You’ve started on the road to recovery.”

      The warm shower took away some of Sonya’s weariness, but when she started to dry her hair, the dryer wouldn’t work. She tried the light switch—no power. So Bryon hadn’t been fooling—he’d had the power company disconnect the electricity. No doubt the telephone would go next. Fortunately the water was provided as part of their rent, so she wouldn’t be completely without utilities until she could find some other place to live.

      Without electricity, she had to be satisfied with a glass of milk and untoasted bread for breakfast, but though she had felt hungry, she threw most of the bread in the garbage. Her obstetrician had given specific instructions about her diet, and she knew she must be more careful, but not this morning. She made an effort to greet the Bensons with cheerfulness, but after she reviewed her tense night, Adam said, “You probably still aren’t out of the woods as far as despair is concerned, but you know how to handle it now. Let’s deal with your immediate problems. As I see it you have several options, and if we had more time, we could make long-range plans, but it’s obvious you’ll have to make a change in living arrangements right away.”

      “What options do you suggest?” A sense of frustration threatened to overpower her again. If it were only herself, she could live anywhere, but she had to have a place for her baby.

      “You can go to your parents and stay until after the birth of your child. Surely they would take you in.”

      “I know they would, and they’ll be furious when they find out I haven’t come to them, but when I disregarded their wishes by marrying before I finished college, I don’t think they should be burdened with my mistake. My dad said if I was burned, I’d have to suffer with the blister by myself.”

      “I doubt he meant that,” Adam said with a smile. “I have three children, and I know how your parents will feel. Besides, it will be a burden to them whether or not you go home.”

      “It may come to that, but not until I’ve exhausted every other possibility.”

      “You can go on welfare. The agency will provide you with food and shelter, as well as a health card to take care of your medical expenses.”

      Sonya shook her head. “Why should the taxpayers be burdened with my mistake?”

      “Then your only other option is to take legal action immediately, to force your husband to support you until after the child is born. You might feel it isn’t a problem your parents or the public should share, but you can certainly realize that he has an obligation.”

      “But I want him to come back to me. If I force his hand that way, he’ll be angrier than ever.”

      Adam smiled. “Since you don’t like any of my suggestions, what do you want to do, Sonya?”

      “I want my husband to come home. I want him to love our child as much as I intend to.”

      “I don’t mean to be cruel, but the likelihood of that happening is slim. And if he should return, I doubt it will be in the immediate future. He’ll run the gamut of willfulness before he’ll return to you.”

      “Then if that won’t happen, I’ll find a job to support my baby and make a home for us,” Sonya replied firmly. “I want to be independent.”

      “If that’s your desire, we’ll do what we can to help you. It’s going to be difficult for you to get much of a job until after your child is delivered, but perhaps we can find something to tide you over until then.” Lines of perplexity creased his face as he considered her problem.

      It amazed Sonya that this couple—these strangers—were so genuinely concerned about her welfare. She had never seen them until yesterday, but now they were making her future their greatest priority. Was it the depth of their spiritual faith that fostered this concern? If so, it was certainly a level of spirituality she would hope to attain.

      “What about the opening at our school, Adam? She wouldn’t need any special training for that,” Marie said.

      A smile lit Adam’s brown eyes. “A good idea, dear.” Turning to Sonya, he said, “We operate a day school in our church building—nursery through the sixth grade. Just yesterday, one of the aides in the nursery class resigned. You would fit in nicely, but the salary is low. I’m not sure it will support you and allow you to accumulate enough for your medical bills.”

      With hope dawning in her heart, Sonya said, “I’d like to try it. I’ll be frugal.”

      Adam looked around the lavishly furnished apartment and said, “Sonya, it’s a trait you’ll have to learn, since you haven’t been living that way.”

      “I didn’t live this way before I was married. My parents reared a family of four on an Ohio farm, and we didn’t have many luxuries. I’ll admit it will be hard, though, because I’ve learned to like this way of life.”

      “There’s an apartment complex near the church, subsidized by the government to provide housing for lowincome people. They base your rent on what you can afford to pay. We’ll take you there to see if they have any vacant apartments.”

      “You could walk across the street to work, so there wouldn’t be any travel expense,” Marie added.

      “I’ll not put you to all that trouble. I have a car and can drive there. I don’t know how much longer I can afford to operate the vehicle, but at least it’s paid for.”

      The Bensons overrode her objections and took her in their car to the Washburn Complex in a newly developed area on the west side of Omaha. They pointed out their church, the Community Lighthouse, a shingled building of modern architectural design. The four-story apartment complex