Long Way Home(115)

“This has always been one of my favorite places to come,” I said with a sigh. “And yours, too, I think. It’s so peaceful here. And so pretty with the river singing and the mountains standing there like old friends. This seems like a much better place to try to get well than the veterans’ hospital.”

“It is.”

“I’m sorry they put you through all those treatments. And I’m sorrier still that none of them seemed to work.”

“I didn’t care.”

Jimmy’s voice sounded flat and emotionless, not at all like the warm, rich voice I remembered. I could tell that he didn’t want to talk, but I decided I would make him do it anyway. “Gisela told me you don’t believe in God anymore, and I’m sorry to hear it. If I’d been through everything you and Gisela have, maybe I would feel that way, too. I don’t think any less of you for it. And you won’t change my mind about what I believe. But if I’m still your friend, will you at least share your thoughts with me again, the way you used to do?”

“I . . . I can try.”

I had hoped that the simple beauty and peacefulness of the setting would put him at ease, but he still seemed nervous and fidgety, as if his skin didn’t fit him anymore. The only thing that seemed to soothe his restlessness was Buster, who flopped down beside him, damp and muddy from his romp in the river. Jimmy stroked his wet fur and scratched behind his huge ears until Buster practically sighed with contentment.

“I remember sitting here with you one day and bawling my eyes out,” I said, “because the kids at school made me feel so ugly and worthless. But you convinced me that God loved me with a passionate love and that He was sad when I was mistreated. So what I need to ask is . . . if there isn’t a God, does that mean I’m not loved after all? Were the kids in town right when they called me names?”

“It’s complicated, Peggety.” He sighed.

“Please try to explain it to me. You were always so good at explaining things so I could understand them.” I waited, listening to a blue jay’s song in the treetops above us.

Finally Jimmy replied. “Millions of people suffered and died. The God I believed in couldn’t have turned His back on them.” This time I heard a hint of anger in his voice, and I was glad. At least he was showing emotion.

“You told me that whenever I doubted God’s love, I should look at the cross. You said it would always remind me of His love. So here—I want you to have this.” I pulled my mother’s crucifix from my jacket pocket and handed it to him. “You were right; it does remind me. Because I can see how much Jesus suffered. And it seemed like God had turned His back on Jesus, too. Remember? He asked, ‘Why have You abandoned me?’”

Jimmy nodded. He was holding the crucifix lightly as if it might burn his fingers.

“Everybody wanted Jesus to be a king who would march into town and get rid of all the bad guys,” I continued. “We wish He would swoop down and fix everything for us, too. Instead, Jesus suffered and died—and made it possible for all of us to become God’s children. That means there isn’t just one Son to fix all the things that are broken in the world, but a whole bunch of us who are willing to suffer like He did to show God’s love—even to the evil people in this world. Didn’t Jesus say we’re supposed to take up our cross and follow Him?”

I waited for him to reply but he didn’t. “God didn’t turn His back and let all those people die, Jimmy—we did. People like you and me. When Gisela and her family were on that ship and they needed a place of refuge, everyone turned his back. The truth is, a lot of people don’t like Jews, and they didn’t want them in our country. You tried to help. I saw the letter you wrote to President Roosevelt. But too many other people just read the newspaper article and tossed it aside. What if every Christian had written a letter to the president, offering to take one of those families on that ship home with them?”

I let him think about my words for a minute or maybe argue with me, but he didn’t. “I knew I could always come to you, Jimmy, when the kids were bullying me. But no one else ever stuck up for me. Pop said I should ignore them, and even my teachers looked the other way. I think God is counting on us to speak up, whether it’s one girl being called names or a whole group of people who are being persecuted.”

He glanced at me and I saw a flash of anger in his eyes. I worried that he was angry with me but he finally spoke. “There’s a town just down the road from Buchenwald. The people who lived there claimed they had no idea what was happening in that camp.”

“See? That’s what I mean. The war and everything else that happened is because of what people chose, not God. He put us in charge of the earth. We’re responsible for it and for each other. Even before America entered the war, there were reports of what the Nazis were doing to the Jews, yet no one did a thing. God doesn’t control us like puppets and make us do what we should. Ever since Adam and Eve, He lets us live with our own choices. The people wanted Hitler as their leader and they got him. Americans chose to turn our backs on Hitler’s evil until one day it was out of control. If we learn anything at all from this horrible war, it’s that followers of Jesus need to speak up and to act.”

“Some did,” Jimmy said. “There were Christians in Belgium who risked their lives to help Gisela and her family.”