Child of Her Heart. Irene Brand

      “I can’t believe I’d do such a thing. It was almost as if I were in a trance. I knew what was going on, but I seemed to be standing outside my body watching the whole thing.”

      “It’s quite common for a person who’s been driven to the depths of despair to have suicidal tendencies.”

      Marie returned with a pot of tea and some sandwiches, and the aroma of the tea nauseated Sonya. She clutched her stomach.

      “I can’t eat anything,” she insisted.

      “But you must eat, Sonya, and especially drink the tea. Adam and I will eat with you. We didn’t take time for dinner.”

      “I’ve not eaten much for several weeks. My stomach feels as if it’s been tied in knots. I hate to eat alone.”

      Marie sat beside Sonya and patted her hand. “Try to relax. You don’t have to bear your burden alone anymore. We’re here to help you.”

      The Bensons were middle-aged. Adam was a short, slender man, who wore brown-rimmed glasses. His wife tended to plumpness, and she had dark hair sprinkled with gray. Her gray eyes glistened with warmth and friendliness; her voice was soft and cheerful.

      Nibbling on sandwiches, the Bensons talked to each other, discussing ordinary happenings around Omaha—the ball games and the fall and winter concerts planned by the fine arts department at the university. Sonya occasionally added a comment to their upbeat words. They didn’t refer to her problem, and to her surprise, in a short while she realized that she had eaten a whole sandwich and her tea was gone. She poured another cup of tea and settled back on the sofa feeling better than she had for a month.

      When the food was gone, Adam said, “Sonya, we’re here to help you, not interfere in your affairs. If you want to tell us about your situation, we’re ready to listen.”

      “What did Mr. Massie tell you?”

      “Only that you had some problems, and that you might contact me.”

      “My husband has left me,” and, having had the courage to admit that, Sonya launched into the experiences of the past months. She talked for more than an hour, often breaking into sobs and occasionally walking around the room twisting her hands. Marie finally pulled her gently to the sofa and sat holding Sonya’s hands tightly as she talked. When she faltered, Adam asked a brief question to encourage her to continue.

      “What worries me,” Sonya said as she finished, “is what did I do wrong? Why did this happen to me? I’ve tried to be a good wife. I’ve been faithful to my husband. Why did this happen to me?”

      “I know this is small comfort to you,” Adam said, “but there are thousands of young women in this country who have suffered a similar fate. And I don’t think you have done anything wrong. Your husband is obviously a selfish man without any consideration for others.”

      “That isn’t true!” Sonya hurried to defend him. “He’s always been considerate of me until this incident. It’s out of character for him to behave like this.”

      “Then let’s just say that your husband has a problem. A man who walks out on his responsibilities should seek help himself.”

      “I doubt he would see it that way,” Sonya said, realizing that her two statements about Bryon were inconsistent. “But I have been wondering if there is something in Bryon’s past that I don’t know about, some incident that would cause him to resent my bearing a child. I can hardly believe it, for his family seems well adjusted and live a normal life-style, and they are prosperous. I feel sure that he wouldn’t see any need for change in himself.”

      “Then if he won’t seek counseling, either jointly or alone, all we can do is work with your situation. You must believe that you’re going to surmount all these difficulties and come out of this a stronger woman than you’ve been before.”

      “I don’t see how I can make it.” Sonya shook her head. “I’ve looked for a job with no luck. I must move out of this apartment soon, and my money is dwindling rapidly.”

      “Please believe me—you’re going to make it all right. Tomorrow, we’ll discuss plans for your future. Our immediate problem is to bring you safely through the night”

      “I’ll stay with her,” Marie said.

      “Oh, I couldn’t let you do that. I’ll be all right.”

      “It’s quite likely you will have other despairing moments as you struggle to deny what has happened. If you won’t allow Marie to stay, then I’ll give you two telephone numbers. There are counselors at these phones around-the-clock ready to listen, and whenever you feel that life is more than you can handle, telephone them. They’ll listen or give advice, whichever you need most.”

      “But my telephone service will be discontinued tomorrow!”

      “Sometimes it takes a few days for the telephone company to follow through on those orders. We’ll trust that will be the case in this instance.”

      Before they left, Marie handed Sonya a small book, entitled, No Easy Way Out.

      “Please read this book,” Adam said. “It’s the story of a young woman in this town who went through a difficult marriage. She thought she was taking the easy way out, but the woman who wrote the pamphlet believes healing comes through facing one’s problems.” He took Sonya’s hand. “How is your relationship with God, Sonya? I feel I must ask that.”

      “My parents started taking me to church when I was a tiny girl, and Bryon and I go to church occasionally. I do believe in God.”

      “How long since you’ve read your Bible?”

      Sonya dropped her head. “Not since I’ve been married.”

      “Then I would suggest that you read it. God can help you, but you need to reach out to Him.”

      Desperation surged over Sonya again when the door closed behind the Bensons. She looked out the window and then checked to be sure the latch was securely closed. She pushed several chairs in front of the window to deter her if she tried to climb out again. The street lamps radiated brightness, and blurred streaks of automobile headlights pierced the darkness. Sonya shuddered when she thought of where she might be now if the Bensons and Daniel Massie hadn’t been concerned.

      She looked at the two numbers Benson had given her. Would there be someone to listen if she telephoned? She dialed one of them, and a pleasant voice answered, “We Care. May I help you?”

      Sonya laughed nervously. “I only wanted to know you were there in case I do need you. Adam Benson told me to call when I have a problem.”

      “Someone will be here all of the time,” the woman assured her. “When you feel a problem coming on, telephone. We’ll listen.”

      Sonya ran the sweeper, dusted the furniture and did a load of laundry. Still not sleepy, she picked up the pamphlet Marie had given her. She started reading the story of Alice Simmons.

      She tried to remember where she had heard that name, but couldn’t quite recall. Then she remembered, she’d heard the woman’s name on the news some months ago. Alice Simmons was related to someone well known in the city—Sonya didn’t remember who.

      She did remember that Alice’s death by her own hand had attracted a great deal of attention in the local news. Alice had married a hardened criminal without any knowledge of his illegal activities. She had suffered abuse of all kinds, and had finally left the man to live with her grandmother. Her husband had continued to harass her, and unable to get rid of him, she had finally committed suicide. Sonya could see her own situation in that of Alice, and again she longed for the release that death would bring.

      But the pamphlet continued, “There’s no easy way out. Trust God with your problems. Deal with them head-on, rather than ignore them.”

      These words spoke to Sonya’s immediate need, for she had been feeling guilty that