A Harvest of Hope by Lauraine Snelling Page A

Munro’s lower abdomen. “We do this to help the uterus contract more quickly so we have less bleeding and help expel the afterbirth.”
    Ingeborg picked up the newborn. “Would you like to wash her?”
    â€œCould I?” Miriam blinked back tears. “I helped birth a baby, and now I get to wash and dress her. I remember when my baby sister, Truth, was born. She was like a doll, she was so tiny. But I took care of her because my mother was too weak.” She looked at Dr. Astrid.
    The doctor smiled. “I’ll attend the afterbirth and cleaning up.”
    Gently Miriam carried the tiny thing to the kitchen. The towels were waiting, the basin filled and ready, the water temperature just right.
    Memories rolled over her as she gently washed each tiny finger and toe in the basin of warm water. What was her sister Truth’s destiny? What course would her life take? And what would this tiny one achieve? Perhaps they would be great things, magnificent things. After the baby was diapered and fitted with a belly band, then wrapped snugly in a sheet, Miriam brought her back to the bed and nestled her in close beside her mother.
    Ingeborg asked, “Mr. Munro, would you like to come to the kitchen for some tea and biscuits?”
    â€œWe must be leaving, so ye can have yer peace back.”
    â€œNo. She must rest here tonight. Tomorrow, perhaps.”
    Miriam smiled. “Believe me, Mr. Munro, you’d be doing Mrs. Bjorklund a great favor in staying. There be more to this than you know.”
    He looked at his wife, and their eyes said silent volumes. He stretched over to kiss her forehead and stood erect. “Tea would be lovely.”
    He followed Ingeborg to the kitchen.
    Dr. Astrid was smiling. “Miriam, you handled the situation perfectly. You’re an old hand already.”
    â€œSurely not an old hand, but oh, I got to help my first baby into this world. And that wee one wasn’t waiting on anyone. How can I thank you?”
    â€œBelieve me, we have all been there, and the awe of this miracle never goes away. I am so grateful there were no problems. Join them and have some tea. Get the details from Mr. Munro for your report.”
    Miriam smiled and nodded. “Thank you again.” She walked out to the kitchen.
    Mr. Munro looked like a wagon had run over him. Trygve, across the table from him, looked none too happy, and neitherdid Manny beside him. Trygve was hard at work on a wedge of apple pie—a quarter of a pie, actually—and Manny was wolfing down a sandwich. Somewhere, Mr. Munro had found the energy to split a biscuit and butter it. He poured a little milk into his tea and added a big spoonful of sugar.
    Miriam sat down beside him. “Mr. Munro, this is not your wife’s first birthing, is it?”
    â€œOur fourth. Three boys, now this girl.”
    â€œAre the boys here with you?”
    â€œNay.” He looked infinitely sad. “Our eldest died in a fishing accident two summers ago. He was out in a dory with my cousin Arvid when a squall came up and dashed them on the rocks. Both drowned. This last winter, the fever went through our town with a vengeance. We’re from Stornoway, about as far north as ye get in the Outer Hebrides, and we lost the other two, as well as my mother and sister-in-law. Now it was just the two of us again, so I said, ‘It’s got to be better than this somewhere, aye?’ And we emigrated. First to Nova Scotia, then out to here to find work.”
    Manny looked stunned. Miriam felt stunned. To lose his mother, sister-in-law, cousin, and all three children in two years, and to be uprooted, and . . .
    Trygve smiled. “Welcome to North Dakota. I hope Blessing gives you rest and prosperity.”
    The man smiled suddenly, sat up a little straighter. “Things ’re lookin’ up already, aye?”
    â€œThey sure are.”
    Dr. Astrid came out and sat down. “Did Daniel take