April, 1947
I hardly know how to begin this... I have never kept any sort of a journal before, except when I... pretended... to talk to Mama, all those years... but in those days, I did not have any way to write any of it down. I wonder... dear Mama, is it alright if I talk to you still, in this journal? It is me, by the way... Rebekah. I know you are no longer here... have not been, for so long... but talking to you feels like keeping some small part of you always close. I will write in Hebrew, and that way no one will ever be able to read it... except Rachel and Shonie, I suppose, but hopefully they will not find it.
I have tried to keep it all inside... all these feelings, these fears, these torturous nightmare memories... and it is so hard, Mama... I do not feel that I trust anyone enough to tell them... not that I am afraid of them, just that they could never understand and I do not want to share the nightmare with someone who does not know what it is like. And Shonie, dear little girl, I do not want to burden her with it. I... I feel like Ronnie understands more than most of them do... but... I hardly know him. And... he looks so Aryan...
So many things have happened since you went away, Mama. And so many things since we came to America. So many new people, so many things to get used to... Have I told you about Mickey? He is... well... it is difficult to describe him. He is Ronnie's brother... and he looks terribly Aryan too. And he is impossible. But he is becoming a friend somehow... I hardly know how that happened, he was driving me crazy for so long... but I am glad to have him around. Sometimes. Most of the time.
It is hard to keep it in, Mama... and yet... it is hard to bring it out, too. I thought writing in this journal would help me, give me a place to pour it out... and it is just so hard to find the words I need to say. Maybe it will come. In the meantime... Mama... do not worry about us. Shonie and Rachel and me... we are all together again. And although Ronnie is not a Jew, and he is not Isaac, he really does love Rachel, and he takes good care of her. He takes good care of all of us. Benjie is the most precious little boy I have ever seen, and Judah is the sweetest, most adorable baby. I wish you could see them both. We are safe here, Mama... and these people are kind. They treat us like family. I hope it stays this way.
♡♡♡
"Well... good morning!" Mac scanned the rows of faces looking up at him... some bored, some curious, some eager, some not seemingly not paying attention as they wrestled with little ones... and decided he didn't know how to go from there. So... he grinned at them. Cheesily. And then hastily rearranged his features into something he desperately hoped was appropriate to the situation. In the front row, Mum nodded at him and Katie, seated beside her, smiled. Her eyes were shining. Emily sat beside Katie, and with a baby on her lap, as usual. This time it was the Fraser's newest little one, Ethan. Emily grinned back, but most of the grin was for Ethan, who squeaked loudly and tossed his stuffed tiger a bit too far.
Repressing a chuckle, Mac returned his gaze to Katie... her smile filling him full nearly to bursting with courage and confidence. And so he started right in, not even conscious that his brogue had become just a wee bit stronger than it usually was.
"Good mornin' t'ye," Mac said again, and then laughed. "Well, I s'pose there ain't much of a need for introductions..." (he heard from Katie afterwards, regarding that ain't, and the ones that followed) "Ye all know who I am. But... I do wanna clarify one thing... this mornin' a few people called me Pastor Scott an' I had t'look around t'see who they were talkin' to. Folks, just call me Mac, as y'always have. I dinna want this... to change anything between us. Just cuz I'm the one doin' the preachin' now, that doesna' mean I'm any higher or more important than any o' ye. I'm just the same. Just a man, who's made more than his share o' mistakes, as I'm sure my Lintie here could tell ye. We're all striving for the same goal, aren't we? And God has put no man above another in the race o' faith. We strive together, ye an' I, an' we're here t'help each other along. And I hope an' pray that I can do just that... run along beside ye and lend a helpin' hand when I may... an' that if any o' ye see me trip an' fall, that ye'll do the same for me."
He paused a moment, scanning over those faces again. They were all looking at him now. Except for old Mr. Gundy, who was snoring away in the back pew, as he always was.
"I guess..." Mac faltered, resorting back to his old grin. It felt much more comfortable that way. "That's enough o' me talkin' for now," he chuckled. "Let's see what th' Lord has t'say."
He opened the Bible, smiling when he saw the words that fell open before his eyes. He began reading slowly, ponderingly... and the words seemed to come alive. His voice gathered strength and he forgot the dozens upon dozens of people staring at him... for the next few minutes, nothing existed except those words of power.
"Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might. Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand."
He paused, lifting his head, letting those last few words sink in. Katie looked up at him and her eyes flashed. He smiled as he continued.
Mac fell silent for a moment. His eyes grew distant... he was far away.
"I'm sure ye all know..." he finally continued, speaking softly. "That I've only got one leg. Gotten pretty used t'this ol' clunker of a fake leg now... seems an awful long time since this country called me away t'war... an' I answered that call. For three long years I was over there... fighting and bleeding for this freedom of ours..." his voice trailed off. Several of the men were nodding, remembering their own experiences "over there". Mac wasn't even the only one there who was missing a limb. When he spoke again, it was with renewed strength. He flung his head back, his voice fairly ringing in the rafters.
"Brothers and sisters, today our country... and our Captain... has called us to war. Ye can hear the trumpets sounding the battle cry even now. We are gathered here today for a council of war. And tomorrow we go up against the enemy... out to fight. I ran into battle alongside my comrades... my brothers... so many, many times over there... and now... we run into battle again together, my brethren. Following a Captain who will never know defeat. Here in the battle of faith, so God help me, I'll be a soldier till the day I die. We'll win a greater victory in the end than ever we won over Germany and Japan! A victory for eternal freedom... for salvation... for life everlasting!
"Y'know, in the Army they gave me a rifle, and crivvens... it was a good gun. But it failed me at times. And here..." he held up his Bible. "Here we have a weapon in our hands that can never fail. Power in our hands, brothers and sisters, a sword t' use against the enemy... a sword that can contend with and a shield that can quench fiery darts... think of it!" His voice dropped.
"I fell on Omaha beach. Stepped on a land mine and it blew up on me. Took m'leg with it. The battle... is not without dangers. And everyone will be wounded from time to time. When ye are hit with those fiery darts... when ye are too weak to stand... come back, come back t' the House of the Lord, where the people o' faith gather. There is safety here. There is love here. There is truth here. There is peace and hope here. This is the way of God... and He cannot fail."
He looked down at Katie again and found strength in her eyes. He had managed it somehow... to stand before the entire church and preach... and they would never really know the tears, the prayers, the fears, the doubts, everything that had led up to his decision to accept this calling. But Katie knew. And he thanked God for her in his heart, for this precious helpmeet that he could not live without.
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