The Forest of Vanishing Stars(56)
“But I am not Catholic,” Anka whispered. “My father, he did not believe in God.”
“But God believes in you, my dear,” Sister Maria Andrzeja replied immediately. She looked up and held Yona’s gaze. “And that makes us all the same, all over the world.”
* * *
Later, with the girl hidden in a small room beneath the church, finally asleep though she whimpered while she dreamed, Yona sat on a pew in the church’s main room, staring up at the gold crucifix above the altar. She had never been inside a church before, never seen such a detailed depiction of the Jew who was said to have sacrificed his life on the cross for the world’s salvation. As she studied him now, in candlelit darkness, she felt a great sweep of sadness. Was faith futile in times like these? Where was God in all of this, in this world where people starved to death or perished at the hands of cruel and heartless men? Where was God when neighbors turned against each other?
“It is easy to question our faith,” Sister Maria Andrzeja said, coming to sit beside Yona. She had changed her clothing, and now the collar that framed her face was a stark white, all traces of the little girl’s blood erased. “And much more difficult to maintain it.”
“I don’t understand how God can let these things happen,” Yona whispered, looking at the nun and then back at the altar, where the gilded Jesus watched in silence. “All of this. This heartache. This death. This suffering. The woman who raised me taught me never to question God, but sometimes lately, I can’t help myself.”
Sister Maria Andrzeja was quiet for a while. “Throughout all of mankind’s history, God has tested us, has tested our faith. Do you know the story of Job?”
Yona nodded.
“Then you know that God protected Job, and Job prospered. Job was a good man; the Old Testament describes him as blameless and upright, a man who feared God and shunned evil. Satan came to God, and God gave Satan permission to test Job, to test his faith, by taking everything from him but his own life. And so Satan did, taking all Job held dear. Job cursed the day of his own birth, but he never cursed God. He did not understand why God was testing him, but he still believed in the Almighty.”
Yona shook her head in frustration. “But at the end of Job’s life, God restored everything. That is not happening here. God is letting innocent people die, so many of them, at the hands of evil. The little girl in the basement, what did she do to anyone? Why would God let so many people like her be tested?”
“Do not abandon faith, my child.” The nun’s eyes were a deep well of sorrow. “We can only pray to be his servants, to do what we can to ease the suffering and to save the innocent.”
Yona looked down. “What if I am failing in that?” She thought of the way fate had put her in the path of the refugees in the forest. God had given her a chance to help them, and at first, she had answered the call. Had she failed God by turning her back now?
“You can only do your part. You can do your best to strike a match in the darkness, to light the way. God is with you, always, and he sees what’s in your heart.” The nun folded her hands over Yona’s. “Today you saved that child’s life. That was God working through you. Tomorrow you might help someone else. As long as you are doing good, you are doing God’s work. You are making a difference.”
“Whoever saves a life, it is considered as if he saved an entire world,” Yona murmured to herself.
“The Talmud.”
Yona looked up in surprise. “You know the Talmud?”
Sister Maria Andrzeja smiled slightly. “Those of us who seek spend a lifetime trying to find God, to know him, to understand him. Perhaps we can hear him where we least expect. But we must always listen. We must never turn our backs.”
Yona felt tears in her eyes as she nodded. The nun, solid in her Catholic faith, was as spiritually far from Jerusza as one could get. And yet they’d both been on the same journey to understanding.
“I don’t know where you’re coming from, or where you’re going,” the nun continued after a moment. “But there is a room in the attic. Won’t you stay for the night, at least?”
Yona’s heart skipped. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly—”
“It is probably dangerous to ask you to remain here. But it is not for my benefit. Or for yours. It is for the child. I may need your help.”
Yona bowed her head. The nun was right. She couldn’t leave without making sure the girl had a chance to live. “Yes, of course.”
“Good.” The nun stood and patted Yona’s hand. “Do not be afraid to ask your questions. But you must always be sure your heart is open to hear the answers.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Yona slept fitfully on the wooden floor of the church’s small attic, somewhere beneath the steeple and the cross that stood above it. It was the first time in more than two decades that she’d spent the night anywhere but the woods, and the stillness of the air and the quiet of the old building made her uneasy. Twice she stood up to leave, but each time, she could smell Anka’s blood on her own clothes, and she reluctantly lay back down.
She found herself thinking of the last time she’d slept under a real roof. She had been just two years old when Jerusza took her, and perhaps it was the sudden, drastic change that had ensured some of her memories of her life before the woods were frozen in her mind forever. She could see moments like distant photographs, always just beyond her reach. Her mother’s dark curls. The sharp angles of her bedroom walls. The smooth lines of her father’s face. She traced those lines now, a familiar rhythm, and she fell asleep still thinking of the parents she had once known, a world and a lifetime away.