Heritage Snapshot Part 308

Harold Shryock's illness gave him time to ponder his destiny. On the one hand, he'd scholastically qualified to attend medical school. On the other, he had no adequate preparation for any career other than being a physician. What to do? Maybe someday he'd be a teacher like his father and avoid the strenuous practice of clinical medicine.  During this time of awful uncertainty, Harold refused to consider courtship. He'd been greatly humbled by the realization that he was not the captain of his own life's voyage. The prospect of marriage under the circumstances didn't even cross his mind. First, before anything else, he must stabilize his health, reenter his study of the basic sciences, and get his career back on track. But, as time slipped by, Harold needed someone in whom to confide. He needed Daisy Bagwell. Correspondence was great. But how he wished he could sit down and actually talk with her, to hear the sound of her voice! He longed to listen to her words, not just read them scrawled on a piece of paper. She often spoke of trusting God to guide his future, just as He had for her. The young man with the mysterious illness wanted desperately to develop such a trust. “The most important things in life aren't tied up in professional degrees or popularity,” she wrote, “and they certainly aren't measured in dollars and cents.” The woman's words began to eat away at his uncertainties and fears. Her stalwart trust in Divine Power and belief in providential leading brought a renewed hope into his existence. He was important, he was valuable, not for what he could do, but for what he was—a child of God. Educational challenges, frustrations, and uncertainties had marked Harold’s teen years. But during that time, Providence had been nudging him to develop very specific talents and skills that would contribute to an unparalleled personal ministry, exceeding anyone’s imagination and even his own expectations. Harold’s life would become a flesh-and-blood example of just how Providence can use an imperfect vessel for God's glory. But for now, deep within his pain, one light still shone brightly, offering him hope beyond his darkest day. That light was Daisy. Providence couldn't have conspired to join two more distinctly different people. Whereas Harold had been sheltered and constantly supervised by dominant parents, Daisy had been orphaned, treated much like an outcast; never indulged, never pampered. She learned early to fend for herself.  Daisy Bagwell graduated from the St. Helena Sanitarium and Hospital’s School of Nursing in August 1927.  When Daisy was a new graduate nurse, Harold caught a ride with friends to Pacific Union College, where he invited himself to stay in the men’s dormitory and hiked down Howell Mountain in the direction of the St. Helena Sanitarium and Hospital. As he walked along the pine-bordered road he wondered what it would be like to see Daisy again. We haven't seen each other for more than a year. What are her true feelings for me? Does she still care about me? What's going to happen to us? Soon after he arrived at the hospital, he caught a glimpse of Daisy dressed in the all-white uniform of a school of nursing graduate. For an instant, Harold's heart forgot to beat. She was beautiful, and her smile of recognition sent his pulse racing. "Yes, she does still care about me," he thought with great relief. Their friendship had matured remarkably during their year of separation. The sentiments they'd exchanged in letters had done something to make them very much at ease in each other's presence. Both felt as if they belonged. That evening spent together confirmed their growing admiration for each other. In the days that followed, the five-mile hikes between the college and the hospital posed no problem for the young man. His spirits were high. Harold smiled often to himself for he knew he was falling in love. While they made no promises of continued loyalty, it just seemed that loyalty was understood. They discussed future plans openly and freely, and there was an unspoken sentiment that seemed to whisper, “We'll be experiencing our futures together.” But, there stood a barrier in their expressions of endearment through which they dared not pass. Harold didn’t have a bank account, or paying job, or marketable skill. Under the circumstances, the young man felt reluctant in assuring Daisy of his hopes that their friendship would lead to marriage. He had nothing to offer that would keep the woman of his dreams from accepting attentions from other young men. “I…I don't know if I should try to pursue medicine as a career,” he confided hesitantly. “I'm just not sure what to do.” Daisy took his hand in hers. “We need to pray about it,” she said quietly.  Harold gasped. She'd said we. Daisy was placing them—as a unit—in God's hands. She was saying that together they, guided by their Heavenly Father, would work things out. From that moment on, there was no question in his mind—they were sweethearts.  To be continued…