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The Triptych (Third and final part) Updated 24/3

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#1: The Triptych (Third and final part) Updated 24/3 Author: MaryR, Location: Cheshire

Posted: Mon Mar 19, 2007 8:14 pm
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She stared out of the window of the plane but she was seeing nothing, her thoughts scattered, her face a picture of trepidation.

A gentle voice spoke beside her. “Scared, child?”

She turned away from the window to meet the kindly eyes bent on her. She flushed and nodded. An arm was placed round her shoulder and she was pulled close in a loving embrace. Scared? She was absolutely terrified. And yet was this not exactly what she had wanted - to go to the Chalet School? How contrary she was!

She closed her eyes. No, what she had desired above all, the last few years, was to have just one loving and steadfast presence in her life – a life that had been rather like a string of fairy lights on a Christmas tree. There had been long, long expanses of mundane normality and silent, desperate longing, interspersed all too infrequently by days of radiant but imperfect happiness. Those days had exploded inside her with excitement and joy, only to peter out in sadness and disillusion, until finally she had learned not to hope. He had never been hers, despite all her yearning.

And now, abruptly, he was gone, leaving her with nothing and no one. Or so she had thought – until there appeared, miraculously and from nowhere, the quiet and loving person seated beside her now, one who was always ready to calm and soothe. But the change from despair to hope had been too sudden. Too much had happened, leaving her no time for reflection. Now, however, she had plenty of time to mull it over during this journey into the unknown.

It seemed to her, as she stared out at the billowing clouds, that her early life had been unmarred by any hint of what was to come. Contented day had followed contented day, strung together like pearls on a necklace and more precious than she had realised then. For there came a time when, for one long moment, she had felt cold winds blowing on her as something priceless was lost. But tenderness had quickly wrapped her round to shield her. The tenderness belonged to her grandparents – huge and effervescent pépé with his booming voice, and tiny mémé, her heart overflowing with love for her little granddaughter, even while she mourned the dreadful loss of her beloved daughter and newborn grandchild.

But something important changed. Whereas, before, Papa had been her Prince Charming, always at her beck and call, always keeping her secure from harm, he was now a St Nicholas figure, turning up out of the blue every once in a while, his arms filled with expensive gifts for her, but never wrapping those same arms around her to hug her to him, as he used to do. His eyes were empty now, the love and laughter wiped from their blue depths. And always, before she could assimilate his presence, he was gone again.

When she was six, the kaleidoscope that was her life took on a different pattern once more. She was sent to the village school and joined wholeheartedly in the revels and rigours of school, giggling and exchanging secrets with her friends. But slowly, almost imperceptibly, sadness and loneliness crept in to make their home in her heart. For some of the children began to taunt her, and she learned that she was different; that she had no maman – she was with le bon Dieu – and that she had no papa, for he was never there, unlike the fathers of the other children.

“Why does papa never stay when he comes home?” was her constant refrain by the time she was seven. “Maman has gone to Heaven so why can’t he stay here and live with me instead? Why doesn’t he play with me and swing me up in his arms like Sophie’s papa? I need him so.”

“He is busy, ma petite,” was the sad response as she was hugged close. “He loves you too, but he has much to do. One day, cherie….”

That day never arrived. Instead, her vivid sapphire eyes lost their glow, her keen enthusiasm for life slowly dimmed. Her grandparents watched sadly as the sparky, loving, generous child slowly evolved into a silent, withdrawn young girl whose eyes were now vulnerable and looked out on the world with intense longing. The only days she truly lived were the days her father appeared – but he too was silent and withdrawn, nothing left to give since the loss of his beautiful wife.

Nothing to give, that is, except unhappiness. For when she was eleven, mémé died. Surely papa would stay home now. But no – he decided boarding school was the only thing for her and sent her far away to the far north of France. The result was a bitter and lonely girl, who wondered constantly what she could have done wrong; a heartbroken girl who wept for her grandmother and for the warmth and colour of the Midi. Life was unfair. Papa was unfair. But begging and pleading had availed her nothing – he had been adamant, and his coldness had finally broken something inside her. She learned to put her own interests first since no one else would, except her grandfather.

Strangely, life would not allow her to stay locked in her bitterness. The school was a happy place, led by a caring Headmistress, and slowly, inch by meagre inch, she let in first one friend, and then another, until she had a small circle of them – and that was enough. Despite everything, she found she could be happy again, though wistfulness remained, deep in her soul. Her father she saw even less than before, if that were possible. It was her grandfather who collected her for the holidays and kept her company; her grandfather who made sure she visited her friends and had those same friends to stay. And it was her friends’ mothers who helped her with the things only a mother can know. They took the lonely adolescent to their hearts.

Grief was not done with her yet, however. Three years after mémé died, her grandfather also left her. Was she so unlovable that they would all go away from her in this way? Bewildered and alone, she found home was now to be a soulless apartment on the Promenade des Anglais in Nice, with a housekeeper for company when she came home for the school holidays and a father who appeared only at weekends. But he remained hidden away in his study, unable even now to spend time with the lovely young woman who was the image of the wife he had loved so much.

She gradually withdrew from this solitary life, accepting any and every invitation to the homes of her friends and acquaintances so she would not have to return to that empty apartment during the school holidays. By the age of sixteen she knew without any doubt that she mattered to her father not one jot; that her yearning for any kind of relationship had been all in vain. But at least she had her friends, her school, her studies, a future.

Or so she had thought. But her father was to take even those away from her. He crashed his plane one misty day on the way to a business meeting – and it was discovered that he had borrowed heavily to shore up his failing business. There was no money, no home, nothing at all left for his sixteen year old daughter. Every penny went to pay off his debts. Everything she had loved was lost to her, her world smashed to smithereens, though the actions of the one man who should have cherished her above all others….

Last edited by MaryR on Thu Apr 05, 2007 5:54 pm; edited 4 times in total

#2: Author: Elder in Ontario, Location: Ontario, Canada

Posted: Mon Mar 19, 2007 8:34 pm
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Oh my goodness, what a burden life has already bestowed on this vulnerable young girl - bereft so many times already. No wonder she has trouble in trusting what may be coming in her future, even though it is her cherished desire to go to the Chalet School.

That cry for 'one loving and steadfast presence in her life' is so heartfelt, especially when we read further and learn about those losses she has experienced. And the death of her father, bringing even the semi-secure world she had known in the last little while to a crashing end.

A beautiful and reflective, if very sad, beginning, Mary - I will be looking forward to reading what comes next.

Thank you.

#3: Author: Lesley, Location: Allhallows, Kent

Posted: Mon Mar 19, 2007 8:39 pm
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That poor girl - to have gone through so much at such a young age. Her father doesn't deserve the term - yes he lost his wife - but he still had a child, one that loved him and relied upon him.

Let's hope she can find happiness now.

Thanks Mary.

#4: Author: Squirrel, Location: St-Andrews or Dunfermline

Posted: Mon Mar 19, 2007 8:47 pm
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Poor poor child. Here her history is being brought to light, one of such intense sadness, and as Elder has said, of so many burdens. The loss of each person as time goes on cuts even deeper, as she looses one by one those who ground her in this life - though really, her father was just a presence rather than a person after the loss of his wife when she was yet small.

And now she is embarking upon a new journey, to a place where so far only her hopes and fears reside. Thank you Mary - I look forward to the next post you have for us when it is ready.

#5: Author: Fiona Mc, Location: Bendigo, Australia

Posted: Mon Mar 19, 2007 9:02 pm
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I am intensely curious as to who she is. Poor girl, she's gone through so much. I can't believe her father ignored her like that. Am so glad she had her grandparents. They must have been so disappointed in their son/son-in-law

#6: Author: Ruth B, Location: Oxford, UK

Posted: Mon Mar 19, 2007 9:09 pm
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*Hugs tight*

Is this the next installment of New Dreams, Mary?

#7: Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester

Posted: Mon Mar 19, 2007 10:36 pm
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Poor girl. *Wondering who she is.*

Thank you Mary.

#8: Author: Cath V-P, Location: Newcastle NSW

Posted: Mon Mar 19, 2007 10:46 pm
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Oh, the poor child, to have lost so much in so short a time, and the final insult that her father should haave left her so vulnerable and uncared for. But at least she does know what she has lost, and wiull recognise it when she meets it again - as surely she must?

Thank you Mary.

#9: Author: Tara, Location: Malvern, Worcestershire

Posted: Mon Mar 19, 2007 10:59 pm
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And, indeed, already has? It sounds as if that secure and loving presence she so longs for is already right beside her, but she has to journey through her past loneliness and yearning before she can accept the gift of the new beginning she is being offered and come to terms with the sudden change.

There's only one person it can be, surely?? Lovely, Mary.

#10: Author: Identity Hunt, Location: UK

Posted: Wed Mar 21, 2007 1:34 am
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Mary,
how poignant !
Poor child, to have endured so much loss in her short life........

Looking forward to more in due course !

#11: Author: Miranda, Location: Perth, Western Australia

Posted: Wed Mar 21, 2007 1:54 pm
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Quote:

Whereas, before, Papa had been her Prince Charming, always at her beck and call, always keeping her secure from harm, he was now a St Nicholas figure, turning up out of the blue every once in a while, his arms filled with expensive gifts for her, but never wrapping those same arms around her to hug her to him, as he used to do.

What a wonderful description, but how sad! Poor girl Sad

I'm so glad she is where she is now... (assuming my guesses are right of course...)

*also looking forward to more*

#12: Author: MaryR, Location: Cheshire

Posted: Wed Mar 21, 2007 7:50 pm
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Ruth B wrote:

Is this the next installment of New Dreams, Mary?

No, Ruth, you can expect that very shortly. Wink

Now is that a threat or a promise? Laughing

But I am sure that you will all have twigged who the girl is by the end of this episode, if you haven't done so already. Laughing

Only one more post to go after this. Sorry about the length of this post. Embarassed

She leaned her head against the warm shoulder beside her and closed her eyes, but she could not close off her memories. The arm placed lovingly around her tightened in reassurance. The beautiful voice spoke again gently. “I’m still here, child. Do you want to talk about it?” But she shook her head, let her thoughts drift once more….

The shock of her father’s death had been bad enough. He would never love her now. But the news that followed had left her reeling – and made her hate him. It was all his fault that she must now leave her school, her one place of security; all his fault that she must now lose her friends, her whole way of life, her very homeland. Her one remaining relative was an aunt, a nun, who lived in a convent in a flat, windswept part of England, a place which had held no appeal for her at all, on the few occasions she had been there.

Cold and in shock, and so lonely she felt her very heart was weeping tears of blood, she found herself unceremoniously bundled over the Channel and dumped in alien surroundings, amongst women who lived a life of which she had no understanding. They tried their best to accommodate this white-faced, grieving girl with the haunted eyes, but she was having none of it. She did not want to be there and she knew they did not want her there. Stalemate!

Oh, her aunt was pleasant enough, sweet-faced and kind. But the one who was in charge, the nun with the arresting green eyes that reached inside you, with the gentle voice which yet commanded instant obedience – that one frightened her to death and she kept out of her way as much as she could. In fact, she kept out of everyone’s way, only appearing for meals when someone insisted. Her aunt tried to encourage her to attend the services in chapel – but one visit was enough. The gentle singing reduced her to tears and she fled to her room, wedging a chair behind the door so no one could enter. She then lay sobbing wildly on her bed for hours, finally falling asleep from sheer exhaustion.

The next day Mother Abbess of the green eyes had joined her in her room – and she had been kind, if compelling. “Child, is there anything you would like to talk about?” she asked, her sweet voice soft and sympathetic. Ellie shook her head. “Is there anything you need, anything we can do for you?”

Ellie stared right back at her. The only thing she wanted, needed, was to go home, but there was no home. So nothing mattered any more.

Mother Abbess reflected a moment in silence. “Come, child,” she said, and took Ellie by the hand and led her from her room and through the silent corridors. They stopped outside a door, which the nun opened.

“This is the library, Ellie. I know you’ve already been shown it but I wonder if you’re scared to enter. It’s yours as much as the other guests. In fact, it’s more yours than theirs, since this is now your home. You may borrow as many books as you like. You may sit here and read - or join the other guests in their sitting room and talk to them or play board games or just sit by the fire there.”

Ellie remained silent. She had no desire to be with others. And she preferred to read the books she had brought with her, thank you very much! They were French, and they were hers. She did not notice the gleam in the probing green eyes watching the resolute face. The nun next led her to the kitchen, where she introduced her to Sister Aiden who did most of the cooking - cooking which was tasteless to Ellie’s French palate.

“You know, Ellie, my dear,” said Mother Abbess, “because this is now your home, if ever you want to make yourself a drink or a snack at odd times, you may do so as long as it doesn’t interfere with Sister’s work. But you must also start coming to meals, for you need to keep up your strength.”

Ellie heard the inflexible note in the nun’s sweet voice and stirred uncomfortably. There had been times when she had been hungry but had stubbornly refused to go to the dining room. She had the strangest feeling that that was about to change. She did not have the power to resist this plain-spoken, intimidating woman.

“Oh, and by the way, those are the kitchen cats, Polly and Patch, asleep by the stove there,” added Mother Abbess very blandly. “I always think cats are a great comfort when one is hurting, don’t you? I’m sure they must wander down your corridor from time to time on their nocturnal patrols.”

Saying no more she turned and led the way out of the kitchen – but Ellie had taken note. She was led to the guests’ sitting room and shown the piano. To her surprise, the Abbess settled herself at the piano in the deserted room and began to play. The girl recognised it as coming from Mozart, and realised it was being played with a gentle touch that spoke of a great love of music. Ellie let her astonishment show and the Abbess smiled.

“It relaxes me,” she said softly. “I know you also play, for your aunt told me. You must feel free to come here any time and play. Perhaps it will help.” She drew the girl towards her. “I know you play the piccolo as well. Have you been practising?” Ellie shook her head. “Well, you mustn’t lose the talents you have, child. God didn’t endow us with gifts just so we can bury them. Perhaps we can persuade Sister Monica to give you some lessons. If I came along to your room, Ellie, would you play for me? As you can see, I have a great love for music.”

Ellie was unnerved and remained silent. Mother Abbess sighed, and squeezed the girl’s hands. “If that doesn’t tempt you, you must feel free to go out on your bike or to take the bus and go places. As long as you let people know where you are. You’re not a prisoner here, Ellie, though I know it must feel like it to you.”

By the time the Abbess had fallen silent, Ellie was gasping. This scary nun seemed to understand. But she remained mute and unresponsive. None of it would make any difference, would not change anything. Mother Abbess stood up and took her by the shoulders. Ellie had perforce to look into those searching eyes.

“Ellie, my child, I can’t undo what has happened.” The sweet voice was very gentle. “So between us we have to make the best of things. I know you’re grieving, and believe me, dear, I do understand.” She paused, gazing away into the distance for a while, before turning her eyes back. “I want you to take things easy - read, relax, play with the cats, go to the beach, whatever - until Christmas. But I also want you to do some thinking. I cannot produce any money, so I want you to try and decide whether you would like us to get you into the local Grammar School in January so you can finish your studies – or try to find you some kind of job. You’re sixteen now. There are no other options, I’m afraid.”

She stopped and considered the girl. “In the meantime, is there anyone from school you would like to invite here, once the holidays have started? Let us know if there is.”

She left it there, realising she had said enough, and more than enough, but Ellie was somehow comforted by that talk. Someone cared. But it changed nothing really. She still spent hours in her room reading – or secretly writing in notebooks she scrounged from her aunt. She did however use the piano, unaware that others were listening to her music and finding great pleasure in it. She did go out on her bike and was often taken for walks to the beach or to the villages around by one or other of the nuns, who all felt very sorry for the silent, withdrawn teenager with the beautiful face and the sombre blue eyes.

One consolation, in those miserable and lonely weeks, was the company of the two small cats. She enticed them into her room and romped with them quietly. The nuns would have been surprised to see the smile that curved her lips at the cats’ antics and the light that sometimes played in those sad eyes. The other consolation was the visit she made to her friend Solange, in London with her parents for the holidays. For the first time she let herself go and poured out her misery into a sympathetic ear. But she was only there two nights – and they served merely to heighten her misery.

However, when she was at her lowest, when Christmas was looming and there was despair in her heart, into her life walked a stranger who was to change everything – a tall and elegant woman with the saddest of eyes and a grave and gentle face. This was a woman who had enough love in her heart for the whole world, and enough generosity to want to make a difference to one unhappy adolescent, despite the great grief in her own soul – and Ellie’s starved heart had begun to bloom…..

Last edited by MaryR on Wed Mar 21, 2007 8:48 pm; edited 2 times in total

#13: Author: Squirrel, Location: St-Andrews or Dunfermline

Posted: Wed Mar 21, 2007 8:08 pm
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Wow. That is stunning Mary. She has moved on a step, has got a little further. She has a home now, but not one she can accept as a home. She is with a people she does not know, in a place she cannot understand. She has managed to achieve at least a little comfort through seeing her friend - and has begun to settle down just the tiniest bit. Now the scene is set for the help she is to be given.

Thanks Mary - it will be interesting to see the next weeks through Ellie's eyes.

#14: Author: Lesley, Location: Allhallows, Kent

Posted: Wed Mar 21, 2007 8:10 pm
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That poor girl - and MA did her best to help, didn't she?

Thanks Mary.

#15: Author: wheelchairprincess, Location: Oxfordshire, UK

Posted: Wed Mar 21, 2007 8:53 pm
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More ND! Hooray! Beautiful post Mary, as always. I am very glad I found this today Smile

#16: Author: Cath V-P, Location: Newcastle NSW

Posted: Wed Mar 21, 2007 10:18 pm
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Oh, poor Ellie, believing that nothing could make a difference. But she does have a home and people who care even if she is unable to accept it at the moment. And at least she did realise that MA understood how much she had lost, even if that knowledge didn't seem to make a difference - so she had made a small amount of progress on her own journey even before Hilda arrived.

I loved the reference to the cats' 'nocturnal patrols'! Cats can be so very comforting and entertaining can't they? And I sympathise with her over the cooking.....1950s/1960s English cuisine wasn't precisely exciting was it?

Thank you Mary - and repeat after me: long posts are good posts! Laughing

#17: Author: Ruth B, Location: Oxford, UK

Posted: Wed Mar 21, 2007 10:18 pm
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Quote:

This scary nun seemed to understand.

And therein lies her scariness!

Thank you Mary, looking forward to the third part of this!

#18: Author: Tara, Location: Malvern, Worcestershire

Posted: Wed Mar 21, 2007 11:03 pm
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Poor Ellie, an alien in a cold and empty landscape. How well MA understands, and, although she can't respond yet, Ellie knows that she does, and she has gently led her to so many elements which can give some comfort and hope in her desolation.

This is really moving and insightful, Mary, and not a word too long.

#19: Author: Elder in Ontario, Location: Ontario, Canada

Posted: Thu Mar 22, 2007 3:49 am
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Oh my - it's late and I only just got in and read this, but I'm left breathless - is there no stone that MA left unturned in her efforts to try and make Ellie feel at home? And the poor child, so bereft already, and still hurting so much that she wanted not to allow herself to take advantage of all these 'goodies' which were being offered to her - her reluctance isn't so surprising really, when we remember all she has already been through. Yet, clearly, something in MA's firm, yet very calming attitude did penetrate, and it's lovely to see how, little by little, Ellie does allow herself to do some of the things MA had suggested, and to enjoy them, though she probably wouldn't admit that yet, even to herself - except perhaps for the comfort the cats bring her!

Beautiful, Mary - you have captured the spirit of this grieving teenager, who is still afraid to trust that what's being offered to her won't disappear as quickly as it's been offered, to a T. And it's not too long at all - we needed to see all of that in one post. I'll be looking forward eagerly to the concluding post on this.

Thank you.

#20: Author: Miranda, Location: Perth, Western Australia

Posted: Fri Mar 23, 2007 1:19 pm
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Well thank goodness for the cats Smile

Poor Ellie to be suffering so much grief and loneliness and confusion - but also poor MA. To watch someone suffer like that can't have been easy for her at all.

#21: Author: MaryR, Location: Cheshire

Posted: Sat Mar 24, 2007 9:24 pm
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Thank you so much for your comments on this in-fill, which took me completely unawares when it sprang to life. But Ellie wanted you to know what it was like for her and it leads very nicely into the next chapter of ND.

......However, when she was at her lowest, when Christmas was looming and there was despair in her heart, into her life walked a stranger who was to change everything – a tall and elegant woman with the saddest of eyes and a grave and gentle face. This was a woman who had enough love in her heart for the whole world, and enough generosity to want to make a difference to one unhappy adolescent, despite the great grief in her own soul – and Ellie’s starved heart had begun to bloom…..

That woman was sitting beside her now, no longer a stranger but a beloved and needful presence in her life. A woman who was holding her, loving her, was becoming the one constant in a world that had let her down so badly.

“Tears, child? Too many memories?” whispered the beautiful voice she adored, and she realised tears were streaming down her cheeks in great rivulets. She turned and hid her face in the shoulder beside her. A gentle hand stroked her hair comfortingly. “I know, ma petite, I know. They come out of nowhere and hit us when we least expect them, don’t they? Drink this and then we’ll talk.”

Ellie drank the hot coffee, blew her nose and wiped her eyes, before snuggling back into the comforting arms. “I want this,” she murmured sadly. “I want to be with you. But I feel as though I’ve cut myself off from everything I used to be – from my home, my grandparents, my friends. I feel I’ve become a different person. And I don’t want that. I’m still me.”

“You haven’t changed, chérie, I promise you,” whispered the wise and gentle woman holding her. “Your past will always be with you. It’s what made you who you are, and you must bring it with you into the present, into your new life. Your grandparents will always love you – their love hasn’t died because they’re gone - and your friends are still there if you want them.”

“Most of them didn’t want me at the end,” murmured Ellie. “They turned away from me, except Solange and Emilie.”

“They didn’t know how to help you, child. They had no words – and so they kept away, in case they made things worse. That’s what often happens when your loved ones die – people become scared of you.” The mellow voice was filled with sadness.

“But you weren’t scared of me, Madame,” said Ellie. “You just loved me.”

The protective arms gathered her closer. Love surrounded her, a love that had been there from the moment this woman walked into the convent, a love that was totally inexplicable to the young girl. For how could a stranger find more love for her in three short weeks than her father had ever offered in her whole life? Madame had soothed and gentled her from their first meeting, while never being afraid to point out to her the error of her ways. Madame saw deep inside her and yet still loved her.

Ellie had been taken to London and smothered in kindness by Madame and her friend Miss Knowles. She had learned not only a new craft; she had learned of unselfishness and generosity of spirit – things the good sisters had tried to teach her but failed. She had been offered the most wonderful of Christmases and given her heart’s desire – a place at the Chalet School, where Madame was Headmistress. She would not lose her idol once Christmas was over. So why was she so scared?

“In the end, chérie, love is all there is,” said Hilda Annersley softly, laying her cheek on Ellie’s hair. “I don’t understand the why or how of my affection for you, any more than you do – it is just how it is. We have found each other – given our hearts to each other. If you’re afraid, I’m here. If you’re in pain, I’m here. You have my promise.”

“I know,” whispered Ellie. “I think I learned what love is when I saw the gift my aunt painted for you. It taught me so many things.”

Hilda raised her head, startled. “My painting? What do you mean, child?”

Ellie looked up. “A triptych, that was what you all called it,” she said slowly. “A painting in three parts – and it taught to me three things. It showed to me, d’abord, what my aunt, my marraine, truly is. Before this, I had not seen. She had tried to love me but I would not allow her. But the picture, it revealed to me how very talented she is – and also how much it is that she loves people. And I wanted to get to know her better.”

“Oui, chérie,” whispered her Headmistress, “she is gentle and loving, and a most devoted guardian. You are lucky to be the niece and ward of such a woman.”

“I know this now, but it needed the painting to show me,” Ellie said, and then added, “You know, Madame, she has also helped me see that papa loved me once – that grief had changed him. In a way, she gave papa back to me – and for me, that is a so precious gift.”

Silence drifted around them as they called the triptych to mind. It was a delicate water colour, the two narrower end sections showing large wooden houses, their balconies bedecked with colourful flowers. One was the Chalet School as it had been in the Tyrol, the beautiful Tiernsee in front and the mountains behind, crowding down to the blue, blue lake. The other end held the school building on the Gornetz Platz, the Jungfrau standing proud in the distance, shades of evening beginning to darken its slopes.

In the larger middle section, two women were standing in the foreground, leaning on a gate and smiling as they talked. Behind them, there rose a graceful, grey mansion on a slight rise, the sunset spreading all the colours of the rainbow across the sky and warming the grey stone of the building. Lights were coming on in the windows, making it look welcoming and friendly. It was a most elegant and tender work of art, but to Hilda Annersley it was so much more. It held her life’s work, her homes – and Nell, her true home – all together in one radiant and stunning whole.

When Madame had been handed that gift, Ellie had suddenly seen into her beautiful soul, seen the great tearing grief she was so bravely hiding. Now she looked up into the quiet eyes. “The second thing it taught me was that I wasn’t the only one suffering – that I must try to help you as much as you were helping me. I saw your eyes and I knew how very much you missed your friend. I had seen you weep at Miss Knowles’ house, but the painting made me feel your pain. I watched you trace your friend’s face, and I so wanted that you love me as much as you loved her.”

“Believe me, child, I love you, just in a different way.” The rich voice spoke very softly. “I’ve told you, loving one person doesn’t shut out everyone else. Love begets love. I have room for you as well as Nell, for Mother Abbess and for many another.”

“But the way you love is different from my way,” replied Ellie shamefacedly. “Mine is so very selfish. But when you talked about your friend later on that night, you showed me what being a heroine means – for she lost her life to save others. Your words, your actions and hers, all made me see I too must put others before myself, even though it might cost me. For loving me as you do has cost you, n’est-ce pas?”

Hilda drew her close again. “Oh Ellie, you have been worth any pain, I assure you,” she said reassuringly. How this girl had grown since the night she had tried to run away from the convent, run away from her intolerable pain. For it could not be denied that in giving to Ellie, Hilda had had to put aside her own grief. What Ellie did not realise yet was that Hilda’s anguish was soothed in the doing.

After a while Hilda asked quietly, “And what’s the third thing this miraculous triptych gave you, Ellie?”

Ellie pondered. “It gave me you.” Hilda started, gazed down at her, and Ellie tried to explain. “I think it was…. in painting you…. that my aunt was inspired to ask you to become my guardian. She was already fond of you, but her art enabled her to see deep inside you, see even more of your goodness. She knew she could trust you.”

She stopped, unsure about what she wanted to say. Hilda, meanwhile, was amazed at her ward’s new-found maturity and astuteness. What interesting and original connections the girl made. She waited patiently and Ellie grew brave, deciding that total honesty was necessary with her guardian. “I was not so trusting myself, Madame. Even after I knew I could come to the school, even after all you had done for me, I was still scared. You said you loved me, but you could still disappear from my life, like all the others. Then, you agreed to become my guardian. Suddenly, I was safe. You had given me the greatest gift of all.”

“Oh, petite,” whispered Hilda brokenly, “Believe me when I tell you that I’m the one who has received the gift. It is a great honour to have you for my ward, I promise you. After all, I never had a ward before – I was waiting for you.” Ellie smiled up at her.

How could one painting have such an effect, Hilda wondered dazedly. But she was to find there was one more miracle to that triptych. Ellie spoke again. “You agreed to become my guardian because you knew of my need to belong – to someone, to something. But then, you looked at your painting and you made me a gift of your friend as well. You told me she wanted to be a part of us.”

She would never forget the night her guardian had produced Persephone, the rag doll belonging to Nell Wilson’s sister, Cherry. She had seen how it hurt her guardian to part with the doll, and with the photo of Cherry, and she knew this woman was as brave and true as her lost friend. She would never forget Madame’s words that night.

“We now belong to each other, child, and Persephone is a way of confirming that, for I would so like Nell to be part of the bond that unites us. When you accept me as your guardian, you will be getting Nell as well. You are part of both of us now. No more loneliness – we’re family.”

Family! No more loneliness! For, through the actions of this one quiet and gracious woman, a whole stream of others had appeared, all willing to pour their love on Ellie, to people her world, the world that had been so bleak a few short weeks ago. And she was now able to accept this love as genuine and also to give something back to those dear people, whereas, before, she had held herself aloof. But this beloved guardian would always be first in her heart.

“Still frightened, child?” asked her Headmistress softly.

Ellie shook her head. “Not so long as I have you beside me,” she whispered. Her fear of the future had melted away as she talked; she now felt ready and willing to face the uncertainty of the unknown. For she was loved. And love drove away fear!

Hilda Annersley kissed her ward gently, a seal of her promises to the orphaned girl, and drew her close again. They both closed their eyes and smiled……

Last edited by MaryR on Sun Mar 25, 2007 3:21 pm; edited 1 time in total

#22: Author: Elder in Ontario, Location: Ontario, Canada

Posted: Sat Mar 24, 2007 10:11 pm
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It's not surprising that Ellie would be fearful of this next step, even though she knew that she would be with Hilda. But it's truly wonderful to see how she 'blossoms', almost as she is speaking, from that rootless, resentful and very fearful adolescent, afraid to accept anything she is offered lest it be snatched away from her. She certainly has thought things through very carefully - and reflected pretty deeply, too, to be able to make all those connections. I love her analysis of what the tryptych has brought to her - and that she has the ability to see what it means to Hilda, as well. It's clear that her grasp of all this impresses Hilda, too - after all, Ellie *is* still only in her teens.

Now at last, secure in Hilda's love, she can look forward with hope to her school life and to the rest of her life, and at the same time, accept unconditionally all the love which was being offered to her earlier but which she was too insecure to accept.

Thank you Mary, for this very satisfying 'side-step' - I am so glad Ellie demanded that it be written and that you have shared her story with us. I'll be looking forward to seeing how she settles into school in the next part of ND - and of course, to picking up all the other threads of that story again in due course.

#23: Author: calico, Location: Wellington, New Zealand

Posted: Sun Mar 25, 2007 2:01 am
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That was beautiful Mary.
Thank you.

#24: Author: Fiona Mc, Location: Bendigo, Australia

Posted: Sun Mar 25, 2007 5:55 am
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That was so lovely

#25: Author: Lesley, Location: Allhallows, Kent

Posted: Sun Mar 25, 2007 6:37 am
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A lovely side-step, Mary - and an excellent way to show how much Ellie's life has been changed.

Thank you.

#26: Author: Miranda, Location: Perth, Western Australia

Posted: Sun Mar 25, 2007 10:34 am
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I think that Ellie's revelations about the triptych have just made it that bit more special for Hilda.

Thank you - that was a beautiful way of bringing things together and to our minds before the 'new chapter' starts - for Ellie and also for us Smile

#27: Author: Cath V-P, Location: Newcastle NSW

Posted: Sun Mar 25, 2007 11:18 am
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What a clear rendition of how much Hilda means to Ellie, and how much they have given to one another.

It is a love that gives Ellie the security that she needs and in that the space and capacity to realise just what it is that others are and have been giving to her. And this is true not only of her newly-perceptive appreciation of her aunt but also in a deeper understanding of how grief twisted her father, how her grandparents's love for her has not ben lost - even the awkwardness of friends who don't know what to say or do in the face of such pain. And she recognises how much this giving has also cost Hilda even while it has brought her joy.

And then this:

Quote:

loving one person doesn’t shut out everyone else. Love begets love. I have room for you as well as Nell, for Mother Abbess and for many another.

It is how Hilda lives her life isn't it?

Then there's the triptych itself; a beautiful symbol of Hilda and Nell and their life together, and also something that carried within itself a quality that would affect the sensitive and thoughtful observer.

Thank you Mary...got a bit carried away I'm afraid.... Very Happy

#28: Author: Elbee, Location: Surrey

Posted: Sun Mar 25, 2007 4:45 pm
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That was lovely Mary, thank you.

#29: Author: Squirrel, Location: St-Andrews or Dunfermline

Posted: Mon Mar 26, 2007 5:25 pm
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Oh Mary, this is just wonderful. And so we have come full circle, Ellie has had her chance to reflect on all that has happened to bring her to this points, the few joys and the many sorrows. And here we come to the all embracing theme of this story - the importance and strength of love. But not love that takes, love which gives - and when it comes to the bottom of it's resources, it digs a little deeper and continues to give.

It seems fitting that this should be the first thing I have read since I left for home on Saturday morning Mary.

I've loved watching the development of the way that Ellie follows her encounter with the love that opened her heart up again, when she had built walls around it. Now she has been released from that prison, she is at last ready to start on the journey that she will experience at the school, and at the convent whenever she happens to be there.

Thanks Mary - I'm sure that this has enabled us to understand more fully what Ellie will be going through as she starts her life at School

#30: Author: Identity Hunt, Location: UK

Posted: Mon Mar 26, 2007 6:11 pm
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Lovely, Mary !
Everyone else has posted so eloquently that I can add nothing more original than my sincere thanks for brightening my day ! Anything connected to ND is alawys a delight Very Happy

#31: Author: Tara, Location: Malvern, Worcestershire

Posted: Mon Mar 26, 2007 10:10 pm
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Thank you, Mary, for that deep and tender exposition of love and awakening self-awareness. Ellie has, indeed, grown to understand so much over the past few weeks, and her acceptance of Hilda's love has retrieved for her the love of others which she thought she had lost.

This quiet, intense interval of sharing before the melee of the start of Ellie's new life is so necessary for them both, and, whatever she has to encounter in settling down into a new situation, Ellie is now secure in the knowledge that she has Hilda,

Quote:

the one constant in a world that had let her down so badly.

#32: Author: Katya, Location: Mostly Bradford

Posted: Sun Apr 01, 2007 12:30 am
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Oh - I haven't the words...

I've finally made it back onto the Board for the first time in a while and I find this - it's too good to be true. That was simply wonderful: a most beautiful description of the changing emotions in Ellie's life so far, as well as being a moving evocation of the relationship developing between her and Hilda, and of love itself.

Quote:

For it could not be denied that in giving to Ellie, Hilda had had to put aside her own grief. What Ellie did not realise yet was that Hilda’s anguish was soothed in the doing.

And that sums everything up wonderfully!

There are so many things I love about your writing, Mary, but I think one of its most impressive characteristics is the rhythm. I can't explain it, but this paragraph:

Quote:

However, when she was at her lowest, when Christmas was looming and there was despair in her heart, into her life walked a stranger who was to change everything – a tall and elegant woman with the saddest of eyes and a grave and gentle face. This was a woman who had enough love in her heart for the whole world, and enough generosity to want to make a difference to one unhappy adolescent, despite the great grief in her own soul – and Ellie’s starved heart had begun to bloom…..

...shows what I mean. It is quite, quite perfect.

Thank you for the best bedtime story I've had in a very long time! Very Happy

The CBB -> Ste Therese's House

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