Copyright © 2004, Sherry Derr-Wille
Published by Whiskey Creek Press LLC

Reviews For SUMMER'S CHILD by Sherry Derr-Wille

"Norway, 1939: Lutheran Pastor, Erik Jorgensen has a recurring dream in which the lord delivers a message, “Europe is destined for disaster-take your family and leave Norway.” Erik’s wife, Solveig, is heart-broke-Norway is her home, her love, her security. But, her place is beside her husband and if America is her destiny, it must be. The wonderfully written saga, Summer’s Child traces the family of Erik and Solveig, starting with their travel to America in search of God’s purpose for sending them. They, as the acorn, plant the family tree, with roots that wind throughout the years to link each member to another.

Author, Sherry Wille does a remarkable job of weaving a fascinating tapestry of family trials, tribulations, celebrations and anguish. There is so much substance to her work; the German invasion, the destruction of innocence, the building of dreams, the injustice of abuse, and the recapturing of hopes, once lost.

You’ll fall in love with the characters, share their emotions, and probably even identify with parts of the story line. At the point you learn the meaning of the title, you’ll be pleasantly surprised. Summer’s Child is indeed a heart-warming, passionate story that in my opinion rivals some I’ve read on the New York Times Best Seller’s list. I congratulate Sherry Wille on a truly engrossing novel. What else can I do but highly recommend it. Review of SUMMER'S CHILD by: Ginger Simpson, Author, Prairie Peace"

“Jorgenson residence,” Solveig Jorgenson answered the ringing telephone. It still annoyed her that the church council thought it necessary to install this machine in her home to interrupt her routine with its incessant ringing.

“I have a long-distance call for you, overseas,” the operator said. “Can you hold?”

“Of course I can,” she replied.

“Hello, Solveig,” the voice on the other end of the line said.

“Yes, this is Solveig.” She did not recognize the voice, and yet she knew to whom it belonged.

“This is Sven, is my brother Erik there?”

“Sven? From America?” she questioned foolishly.

“Yes, is Erik there?” He seemed only slightly annoyed with her being so hesitant about putting her husband on the line.

“Just a minute, Sven.” Trembling she called Erik to the phone. “Erik, it is your brother, Sven, from America.”

“Sven?” Erik questioned, glancing at the clock as he spoke into the receiver. It would be early, only eight in the morning in Minnesota.

“Yes, I called as I need to ask a favor of you.”

“A favor, what favor could I possibly do for you from so far away?”

“I have just returned from the hospital. I am dying, Erik.”

Sven said the words so calmly Erik could hardly comprehend them. “You are what?” he questioned.

“I am dying. I have cancer. The doctors have given me three months to live. My condition will weaken steadily. I met with the church council last evening. They would like you to come and take my place.”

“Are you serious?” Erik asked.

“I know it means uprooting your whole family and coming to America. It is too much to ask, but it would mean so much to me to have you here for the last few months, to know you would be caring for these people.”

“I’ve prayed for another sign, but I never expected a sign like this.”

“What are you saying, Erik?”

“I’ve been having a dream. In the dream, God told me to take my family and leave Norway. I was going to post a letter to you, asking if there were any openings in America.”

“God does answer prayers,” Sven said, sounding relieved. “Then you will come, you and your family?”

“Of course I will come, but what of your family?” Erik asked, realizing his acceptance would leave Sven and Ruth without a home.

“Ruth has her teaching certificate. She’s been teaching now for several years. We’ve been putting aside some money for the children’s educations as well as for our retirement. This community needed someone to teach who understood the language and loved the children. It has been a good arrangement all around. By being frugal and not trusting in the banks, we have not suffered as badly as most of the people in this country. “

“What about your own children?”

Sven seemed to relax and even managed to laugh. “Matthew is in college, he will graduate next year. Mark is working in Minneapolis and plans to be married at Christmas, and Martha is already married. She and her husband will make us grandparents soon. They are no longer children. You forget there are many years separating us. Ruth and I have been married for almost twenty-five years.”

Erik smiled. He momentarily forgot people aged. To him, Sven would always be the young man of twenty-five whom he watched sail away from Norway almost twenty-seven years ago. More than just age separated the brothers. He realized when he arrived in America he would be meeting a stranger.

Sven continued to talk, eager to tell his brother as much as he could in this unconventional way of talking across the ocean. “The money we have saved will make the down payment on a small home. With the Depression coming to an end, Ruth’s salary will enable her to live comfortably, when ...” he left the rest of the sentence unsaid. “I’m so pleased you are coming,” he continued, composing himself.

“So am I,” Erik said, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“The church council will look into voyages from Bergen. They will send passage for you and your family. There are still only three children, aren’t there?”

“Yes, Sven, there are only three.”

“Then it is settled. They would like you to sail the end of July or the first of August. Can you be ready so soon?”

“I think so. Solveig’s father can take over until a new pastor is found.”

“Good, then I’ll speak with the church council today. They will send you a cable shortly. I can hardly believe it. In two short months we will be together again. It seems like an impossible dream. Until we meet in America.”

“Until we meet in America, Sven,” Erik said, before Sven broke the connection.

Solveig went outside, not wanting to hear even one side of Erik’s conversation with his brother.

What could the call from America mean? She’d fallen deep into thoughts of the future when she felt Erik’s hands on her shoulders.

“Do you need more of a sign, Solveig?” he asked.

She turned to face him, knowing something must be terribly wrong. She gasped at the sight of his face wet with tears, tears she never saw him shed before. Her questioning look prompted him to repeat the entire conversation.

After he told her of Sven’s illness, she began to cry. “I--I can’t believe Sven is sick. I never meant for such a thing to happen. I never wanted such a sign.”

“It is God’s will, Solveig. You did not will anything to happen. It happened long before I ever knew the meaning of the dream. God has prepared a place for us. He will take care of us.”

“Yes, He will take care of us. I have many plans to make, Erik, many things I must do.”

Erik returned to the house, leaving Solveig with her thoughts. Over the past days she had been in such turmoil. Erik has been so certain God spoke to him in a dream and yet she could not comprehend it.

Solveig allowed her mind to wander back to the morning when her whole world seemed to become turned upside down.

She had awakened, as though she had set an alarm. She automatically got up at six. As usual, she turned to rouse Erik, but to her amazement she found his side of the bed empty. Where could he be so early in the morning? Perhaps he had become ill. That would be the only reason she could think of for him to be out of bed.

Not stopping to dress, she put on her robe and slippers. Before going downstairs, she opened the drapes. Seeing Erik crossing the short distance between the church and the house surprised her. A strange smile graced his face and a faraway look glistened in his eyes. Worried, she hurried down the stairs and met him as he entered the kitchen. “Are you all right?” she questioned.

“Yes, Solveig,” he said calmly, his manner somehow seeming out of character. Usually he would not have been up before she got out of bed. If he were she knew she would not have found him sitting at the table drinking coffee.

“You’re up so early,” she stammered, unable to conceal her concern.

“I’ve been up for hours,” he said.

“What is wrong?”

“There is nothing wrong, Solveig. I told you before. Sit down. Let me get you a cup of coffee. Let me tell you about my dream.”

Solveig rolled her eyes. The dream. He had pondered over this dream for months. At least it seemed like months. It was a dream with no meaning, a dream that kept returning. “What about the dream Erik?” she asked as she accepted the cup of coffee.

“Remember how I told you the soldiers were all faceless, and they were marching, ever marching. Remember the blood, the voice?”

“Yes, Erik, I remember, you have told me before,” she sighed, taking a sip of the coffee.

“This time I could hear the voice, the voice of God.”

“The voice of what?” she exclaimed, almost choking on her coffee.

“Not what. Who. The voice of God. God spoke to me as He spoke to Joseph and Paul, as He spoke to Abraham, Moses, and David.”

“Do you consider yourself in a class with them?” Solveig scoffed. “You are nothing but a poor Lutheran minister.”

“What were they before God spoke to them? Abraham lived as a nomad, Moses a hired man, David a simple shepherd boy, Joseph a carpenter, and Paul, who was known as Saul, a persecutor of the early Christians. They were ordinary people, just like us. I tell you, He spoke to me, Solveig! He spoke to me in the words Joseph heard. He told me to take my family and leave Norway. He said a great war is coming and no place in Europe will be safe.”

“Did He tell you where you were going or what you would do?” she asked.

“I’m a minister, I will preach the Gospel. He didn’t tell me where I’d go, but He will show me. When I sat praying on it, it came to me. My brother, Sven, is in America. I will write to him, and he will find me a position there.”

“Oh, Erik, I remember Sven’s letters as well as you. There has been a great Depression in America. How could Sven find you a job?”

“They are coming out of the Depression, Solveig,” he reminded her.

“You think there are no ministers in America?”

“God will make room for one more. All my life, I’ve known God has been preparing me for something, but I knew not what. My father was a master of languages, a professor, who taught in all the major capitals of Europe. He taught me to speak those languages. He made certain I spoke perfectly no matter what the tongue I chose to speak. On my own, I’ve learned Greek and Hebrew in order to study the ancient scriptures. All of this knowledge has been God’s will. He has a purpose for me somewhere and I think that place is America.”

“Oh, Erik, I wish I could be as trusting as you, but you just had a dream. I dream all the time. Dreams are meaningless.”

“Meaningless, unless God speaks to you in one,” Erik argued. “Don’t you see? Everything has meaning in my life. Even Sven going to America when I was so young has meaning. God prepared a place for Sven and now God is preparing a place for me.”

“It is just too much to comprehend. You don’t even know if Sven will be able to find a placement for you, and yet you are asking me to leave my home, my family, to pick up my roots and move to a country where I don’t even speak the language,” Solveig said, knowing her words betrayed her despair.

“You will learn the language, Darling. You will see. God will help us.” Erik took her in his arms in an attempt to reassure her. “Once the children are out playing, we will go and talk to your parents. They will be as excited as I am about this.”

“I am happy for you, I am just not excited the way you are. What happens if we get to America and there is no position for you?”

“Oh, Solveig, consider the lilies of the field and the birds of the air. They ...”

“Don’t quote the scriptures to me Erik. I grew up in this house. My father served as pastor here before you. I know the scriptures and I have faith. It is just in this day and age God does not speak to poor Norwegian Lutheran ministers. God does not come to them in dreams and tell them to leave their homes. I’ll need more of a sign than your dream.”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Erik sighed. “You will have more of a sign, God will show you. Perhaps God will even speak to you.”

“God is not going to speak to me Erik. I’m little more than a poor housewife and this poor housewife has a lot of work to do today.”

Tears brimmed in her eyes as she went back upstairs. Once she washed and dressed for the day, she began to braid her long blonde hair. She watched the automatic process in the mirror and allowed her mind to wander. Could she survive anywhere but in Kinsarvik? Could she live anywhere but on the fjord? Could her life ever be complete without the mountains? The mountains, the fjords, the people, the lakes, she could live nowhere else. Nowhere else on earth could she ever live and be happy.

It turned into a strange day. Secretly, she was relieved when Erik said nothing to the children.

At last, they were alone and at Erik’s insistence they went next door to see her parents. Erik told them the story of the dream. He related the many times he experienced it and how last night’s dream revealed its meaning. Tears formed in Solveig’s father’s eyes as he looked at his son-in-law in awe. Her mother was also crying when she hugged them both tightly.

“Solveig, you are truly blessed among women,” her mother said, as she held her at arms length and stared into her eyes. “You husband has spoken with God.”

“I speak with God daily, Mama. I pray to him all the time, so do you and Papa. We all speak with God.”

“But God has verbally answered Erik. You are blessed.”

Solveig shook her head. “Mama, those are the words Elizabeth spoke to Mary when she learned she was pregnant. You are blessed among women. I am certainly not Mary. I have not had an immaculate conception, nor am I going to give birth to the new Christ. Don’t you understand? Erik wants to take me and the children to America.”

“Perhaps it is God’s will, my dear child,” her father said

“Now you sound like Erik.”

Her father seemed unable to understand her apprehensions. He took her in his arms, as though she were a child, and said, “Trust a little more, my child. Just trust a little more. God knows what He is doing.”

Solveig lingered, secure in her father’s embrace. “I know He knows what He’s doing, but I don’t know what I’m doing. America is so far away, Papa. I don’t speak the language. I don’t know the customs. Where will I find the mountains and the fjords? How can I live so far from you and Mama, from Thomas and Gerta and their families? I may never see you again.”

“If not in this life, my Darling, then we will surely meet in the next. Be like Ruth, ‘wither thou goest, I shall go, wither thou lodgest, I shall lodge, your people shall be my people, your land shall be my land.’”

“But, Papa,” she protested, “Erik’s people are here, Erik’s land is here.”

Erik took her hand in his. “Not really, the people who raised me when my parents died, are here in Norway, living in Stavanger, but they are not my people. My only family is in America. My parents have been dead for more years than I care to remember. We must trust in the Lord and do His bidding.”

They stayed for almost an hour, and at last Solveig tired of trying to explain her dread. They did not understand her, just as Erik did not understand her. Were they right? Could she be the only one who did not understand? Was Erik truly blessed having been spoken to by God? Had God chosen to bless her by arranging for her to move, to leave behind everything she held precious?

They returned home, but said nothing to the children. Erik glowed, while Solveig thought tears would spring to her eyes at any moment. Although they said nothing, the children seemed to sense something amiss and became edgy.

Automatically, she went about her daily tasks of cooking, cleaning, and gardening. With each completed task, she wondered how many times she would do it again in this house, in this country?

“We need to talk about what has happened,” Erik said, bringing her back to the reality of the phone call. “We need to talk about going to America.”

The lump in Solveig’s throat would not allow any words to pass. Instead she nodded her head in agreement.

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