When Tomorrow Comes by Janette Oke

decided. Then the day arrived when Henry would come to Calgary and bring Christine back for the days leading up to his wedding. Her new suit was carefully folded in tissue and packed for the journey. She finally had chosen material of a soft navy, having come to the conclusion that the red serge of the Force was not an easy color to complement.
    But she was pleased with the pattern they had found and most satisfied with her mother’s skilled seamstress ability. The suit looked good on her. Even she could appreciate that fact. She did hope Amber would be equally happy with it.
    One fact had dampened her visit to the bustling city. Everywhere she turned it seemed she saw young people in full uniform. Never had she imagined that so many of her country’s youth were willing to go off to war. They seemed to swarm over the city, calling jovially from each street corner, congregating at bus stops, laughing and jostling at lunchroom counters.
    “You’d think it was some adventurous lark, instead of a war that needs fighting,” Christine heard one disgruntled matron exclaim to another. And it was true. The young men and women seemed to be celebrating rather than preparing for a dangerous undertaking that could cost them their lives. Perhaps they did have more sober moments when the enormity of what was at stake accosted them, but they appeared very careful not to let it show. Maybe that’s why, Christine wondered. They’re trying to keep their spirits up to face what is ahead .
    The Sunday service had been another reminder. One of the young lads from the local congregation had just left for overseas. Serious, fervent prayer was offered up on behalf of the family who remained at home, forced to wait—and pray—hoping for his safe return.
    “There are so many needs,” the pastor informed them. “Not just overseas, but here at home as well. You ask how you might be involved? Seek ways. Look around you. There are hand projects. Gloves, socks, and toques are needed. Even sweaters can be knit and sent. You can make up CARE packages. Little bits of home for the young men and women over there.
    “And the local clubs need help. Faith Church has started a drop-in center for the servicemen. We can help out. They serve coffee and cake and give the boys—and the young women, we have young women going too—a chance to gather and play games or just talk.
    “And many of the businesses need employees. So many young men have gone that it is up to the womenfolk to take their places here on the home front. We need to keep our country productive if the war effort is to be successful. See what you can do to help—and prayerfully get involved.”
    Christine had not considered the involvement needed at home. But it was true. There was much to be done here at home as well. Her prayers began to change from that time on. “Lord, show me how you want me to be involved. Don’t let me jump in with my own plans. Show me, Lord.”
    Reminders. Everywhere were reminders. From signs asking the populace to buy war bonds, to posted lists in local papers, to news of advancing or retreating forces on each night’s news- cast, to uniformed youth on each city street. Every place Christine went she was confronted with the fact that Canada was at war.
    At the sound of a car pulling up in the driveway, Christine hurried to answer the door. Elizabeth was right behind her.
    Henry was unfolding his long legs from the car’s interior. Christine was glad to see he was alone. She was looking forward to having him all to herself for one last time and hoped it was not selfishness on her part.
    He walked toward them, heavy overcoat flapping in the afternoon wind, broad grin lighting his face. “Well, look at this. Two of my favorite women.”
    “Yes,” Christine laughed. “We’re glad we’re still on your list!”
    Elizabeth pushed past Christine to claim him first. She lifted her arms to pull him down so she could plant a kiss on his cheek. “How were the