From the Improvement Era, August 1943 –

No Matter What Comes

By Marguerite J. Griffin

Evelyn was lonely these days. Even when she opened her own front door and smelled the warm odor of spicy mince pies! Even when she heard the cheerful voices of her mother and sister, busy in the kitchen!

It was a loneliness which had taken complete possession of her ever since Dennis had gone into the army — Dennis whom she had known for so long, so long that she hadn’t realized she loved him until his country had called him and he had to go. Now his engagement ring glistened upon her left hand, but it brought small comfort to her heart. It might be all she would ever have of him. Perhaps the narrow wedding band would never keep it company.

Her mother and sister had not heard her come in, so she pulled off her coat and hat and slumped into an easy chair, letting her melancholy feeling submerge her. She was tired and desperately lonely, remembering things that she and Dennis had done together in the past. It was sweet to remember what fun he had always been, but it hurt, too. For fear was there like a spectre, fear that she might never see him again. Where was he, even now? For more than two months, she had not had a line from him, and she knew what that meant. He had been sent out of the country, somewhere, anywhere. Newspaper headlines only pinched her heart and made her wonder. Was he in Africa, New Guinea, Guadalcanal, the Solomons, Alaska? Oh, Dennis, this waiting, this never hearing is so hard.

Her younger sister’s voice rose harshly in the kitchen, and her thoughts with their fears momentarily hid in the back of her mind. . . .

‘Oh, you’re always trying to make things to tempt Evelyn’s appetite, but when I want some sugar to make my own special fudge, you say ‘No, there is not enough.'”

“Now, Sally.” Her mother’s voice was patient. “You should know as well as I that our ration cannot afford sugar enough for fudge for the whole Junior Girl fireside.”

“But mother, they remember how I used to make it. There’s not a girl in the ward can equal my fudge, and when they knew the fireside would be here next time, they were all asking me if we’d be having fudge like we used to.”

Evelyn, in her big chair, shrugged with annoyance. All she has to worry about is not enough sugar to make her marvelous fudge, she thought, feeling infinitely older than her young sister.

“Sally, they’re not really expecting you to make fudge for them. They all have to get along with limited sugar now. You make up that spice cake you made last week with syrup. That was — ”

“Oh, syrup cakes aren’t really a bit sweet! They’re a poor substitute. After all, look at these mince pies, just to cheer up poor love-sick Evelyn,” she said bitterly.

“That’s enough, Sally.” Her mother’s voice was stern now. “They didn’t take any sugar, and don’t you speak of your sister like that. You’ve never been in love. You’re only sixteen, and the war hasn’t really touched your heart yet. You don’t know what it means to love a boy enough to want to marry him, and have him gone, goodness knows where — ”

“Well, why didn’t they get married then? Three years ago they could have, if they had known their own minds. Then he might not have been called; But no. Evelyn had to be so high and mighty, thinking her voice was good enough for a career, and now after all her music, she’s just working in a bank like any ordinary person.”

There was truth in her young sister’s words, thought Evelyn. Dennis had wanted to marry her long ago, but the world had offered so many enticing things to her imaginative mind — fame, a career. How she had been deceived, for what did those things matter now? She couldn’t even sing any more with this great lump perpetually in her throat.

She quieted her thoughts to listen to her mother’s reply.

“Perhaps you’re right. Things might have been different, but Dennis seemed to take the Church so lightly. Temple marriage didn’t seem important to him, and — Oh, but why are we talking like this? Sally, you shouldn’t feel so bitter toward your sister, just because I try to do things to cheer her up a little!”

“Enough sugar to make some fudge would take all the bitterness out of me,” Sally teased insistently.

“Well, go to the bin, and you can see how much we have to last us for the next three weeks.”

A mixture of emotions struggled in Evelyn’s heart. Many times she had secretly reproached herself that she and Dennis had not married. They would have had a home by now, perhaps a child. They were both old enough. Strange how one’s values changed. But right now, it hurt that her younger sister felt resentful toward her. She must let them know she was at home, but they must not know she had been listening. So she opened the front door noisily and then shut it again.

“That you, Evelyn?” her mother called.

“Yes, mother.”

“Come out in the kitchen. We’re doing some baking.”

“M-m-m, mince pie,” said Evelyn, trying desperately to appear gay. “Lo, Sally. How’s every-
thing?”

“‘Lo,” said the girl briefly, not looking up. “No, Mom, there’s not enough sugar. I can see that.”

“What for?” asked Evelyn.

“Fudge.”

“You’re sweet enough without fudge.”

Sally looked up at her sister in astonishment.

“Are you sure you’re well, sis? You haven’t noticed me around for ages.”

“Sorry, Sally,” Evelyn said, patting the girl’s bright head. “I’ve been a heel wrapped up in my own worries, but I do love you, and I am sorry about the sugar.”

Sally was almost boyishly awkward at her sister’s show of affection. “Oh, sugar isn’t everything. Say, something’s wrong.”

“What?”

“You didn’t ask the usual question when you came in.”

“What’s the use? There’s never any mail.”

“But there was today. Wasn’t there, Mom?”

The girl’s voice was glad, almost jubilant, as if she were happy to make up for some of the bitter things she had said which now rose up to sting her conscience.

Evelyn stood for a moment very still. Her face was white, her eyes luminous. It was as if she could not speak. Then at last she whispered, her lips barely moving, “From Dennis.

“Who else?” said Sally.

Her mother was wiping the flour from her hands onto her apron, and then she reached high up into the cupboard for the letter.

“I had to put it ‘way up here, for Sally threatened to open it, and I was afraid she might actually do it behind my back.”

“Well, I’m just as interested as anyone to know where Dennis is.”

Evelyn had regained her poise, but her hands trembled as she took the letter.

“Interested or just curious?” she asked.

“Well, I like Dennis, too,” Sally admitted.

“Do you really?”

“I might just as well.” The young girl was grinning, but Evelyn was satisfied.

“Yes, you might just as well,” she murmured softly as she looked at the letter edged in the red, white, and blue air mail stripes. She noticed that it bore no post mark and was stamped: “Passed by Army Censor.

Her knees felt suddenly weak, and she sat down upon a kitchen chair. Her fingers were clumsy as she broke the seal. Even Sally was still for once in her life. Not a sound could be heard save the rustle of the thin paper which she was unfolding to find the lines of familiar handwriting.

“Hawaiian Islands,” she breathed softly. “Imagine that!”

But she did not look up. Her eyes hungrily devoured the pages. When she finished, there were tears like bright shining beads in her eyes, and she looked up to see her mother and sister standing arm in arm watching her intently, lovingly.

“Sit down, both of you. I want to read part of this to you. ‘Dearest Evelyn — ‘” She glanced up a little self-consciously, but her face glowed radiantly.

I arrived here safe and sound in the Islands. It is certainly beautiful over here.

I am not so far from the church, and I will be able to attend meetings there from time to time. I have been doing a lot of reading in the Doctrine and Covenants and Book of Mormon as well as the Bible, and I’ve suddenly come to realize that I wasted a lot of time when I was at home. Times like these make you wonder about a lot of things, and I’m discovering that the gospel has all the answers.

Most of the fellows are pretty serious about things right now, and I get in a lot of conversations. It makes me wish I had studied more when I was at home so I could answer them better.

I saw our Hawaiian Temple today. I wish I could tell you how beautiful it is, Evelyn. It looks so calm, so serene, so steadfast. I wish I could tell you what I felt as I looked upon it, here in the midst of so many military defenses. I suddenly realized that it is the one place in all the world where mortals may be given the power to possess their loved ones beyond the uncertain bounds of this life. . . .

It made me understand more fully what the scriptures mean when they say to “Stand in holy places and be not moved.” I think I have truly awakened to the fact that I have a testimony, Evelyn. . . .

Keep writing often. It is so good to get letters from home. . . .

Her voice faded away gently. For a moment there was silence as sacred as a prayer. Then it was Evelyn herself who broke it.

“And a little while ago I thought there was no future for us. Instead I think I have never felt happier than I do right now!”

“Yeah, that was a swell letter!” sighed Sally. “I guess not having enough sugar doesn’t matter anyhow. Though even knowing it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t stop your sweet tooth from aching.”

“That’s right,” said the mother. “And in spite of their testimony of the gospel, Dennis and Evelyn will still have their loneliness and heartaches, too.”

“But now I’ve got so much to do to keep up with Dennis,” said Evelyn. “I’m not going to bury myself at home any more. I’m going to work so hard in the Church I won’t have time to think about the loneliness. Besides, I have you and sis,” and she put her arms around the two of them. “You know, it is wonderful to realize that we belong to each other forever, no matter what comes!”