45

Luga, Russia

They may have been hailed in the papers and on the radio as the brave resistance fighters of Russia, doing whatever it took to save Leningrad from destruction and doom, but for Tanya, the resistance fighting felt a lot like digging. From sun up to sun down.

For two weeks now, they’d spent every day camped out in the northeast section of the Luga line, digging sticky clay soil out of trenches and moving it to fortified tank defense mounds.

Shovelful after shovelful.Wagonload after wagonload.

It really wasn't so bad, not when she had Feodora and Agripina to talk to, but the days did drag on. She missed Verushka fiercely.

Pushing her shovel into the ground once again, Tanya wiped sweat off of her brow and turned toward Feodora. "Another day as a proud resistance fighter for the motherland."

Feodora pointed a shaky hand toward one of the tin box rations that they had been surviving on since they had arrived. "But at least we get a delicious, well-rounded meal three times a day. That is, if you consider a tin of canned ham a well-rounded meal."

"I know too well that food is food."

Feodora looked at her intently. "I just wish they had some…"

Tanya patted her friend's back in understanding.

Feodora's flask had been empty for about a week now and her friend had worked through flashes of anxiety, nausea, and trembling for the last seven days. The trembling was slowly subsiding, but Feodora was miserable.

"Have the headaches stopped?"

"Somewhat. It still pounds behind my eyes."

"And the nightmares?" There had been many nights that Feodora had awakened their entire tent with her screaming.

"They just keep coming back."

Tanya gritted her teeth and blinked back tears. Feodora had such a kind heart and amazing tenacity. How could God have allowed her to suffer so greatly?

Because God didn't exist, that's why.

"Is there anything I can do to help, Feodora?"

"You could…pray."

"Pray?" Tanya's mouth dropped open. Feodora had always felt like Tanya did about God. She had once believed, but after everything that had happened to her, she was a bit more realistic about religion.

"Actually, I'm glad you asked because I've wanted to talk to you about that."

"About praying?" Tanya whispered. What had happened to her friend?

"Well, in the last few weeks, Agripina has been talking to me about God."

"And?"

"Well, she's led this incredibly sheltered life. Her parents are rich and she's never wanted for a thing. She's gone to mass every Wednesday and Sunday every week for her entire life. And yet, she always felt as if something was missing. Until…"

"Until?"

"Until she met us. She said she had prayed the morning she went out to work the lines in Leningrad that God would reveal Himself to her in a powerful way. And she believes He did."

"She thinks God revealed Himself by letting her meet a ragtag single mother and her alcoholic best friend?"

Feodora drew a sharp breath. She clenched her lips together. "That's not fair, Tanya."

"I know. I'm sorry. I just can't believe that God is up there in the sky worrying about us." Tanya waved her hand over the line they were building, the scent of gunpowder from last night's air raid still heavy in the air. "How could He care about a woman's prayer to find friends when there is so much else going on?"

"I don't know all the answers, Tanya, but I do know that when I finally prayed God would forgive me, things got a whole lot easier. It was like a weight was lifted."

"So just like that, you believe in God again?"

"I don't think I ever stopped, Tanya. For a few years there, I let my own worries and struggles push God aside. But He was always there. And somewhere deep inside, I think I always knew that."

"So what now? Will you, you know, change?"

"I hope not!" Feodora stood up and spun around, her arms flailing above her head. "What's there to change about this?"

Tanya laughed for the first time in days.

"Actually, I hope I do change. I've spent too long not trusting anyone and allowing my fear to guide me. Right now, I'm trusting God to get me through these headaches and while they still hurt awfully bad, I'm also glad I'm getting there. Who knows? Maybe this is what it takes to break this addiction."

"And when we get back?"

"I'm trying to trust God to provide for us when we have no income." Feodora's eyes clouded as she must have realized the uphill battle they faced when they returned. "I don't want to go back to…"

"All right, you trust. I, however, cannot blindly trust some God when my baby's life is at risk."

"I understand how you feel, Tanya, I really do." Feodora's eyes glistened. "I'll pray that your heart will be softened."

A tiny part of Tanya ached, wishing she could believe again. How she yearned for the comfort of having someone she could trust. But she was also realistic. She knew what trusting in God had gotten her before.

"Oh, and Tanya?" Feodora's eyes were pleading. "I'm so sorry."

"For what?"

"For getting you into...you know."

Tanya glanced away from her friend and dug her toe into the ground. "It's okay, Fe. You saved my life. And Veruskha's. Neither of us had a choice."