Posted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 8:06 pm
She gave Hilda a little time to recover and then spoke very quietly, her hand still gentling Hilda’s head. “Hilda, sweetheart, it’s two o’clock. We both need to eat.” Hilda’s head moved against her and the nun’s voice grew firmer. “Oh, yes, daughter, those are my orders, I’m afraid. You also need to sleep despite the nap you had earlier. Did you get any sleep at all last night?” Hilda’s head never moved. “Well, that decides it. You will be late tonight because of Midnight Mass, so you catch up this afternoon.”
She gently raised Hilda’s head from where it was still leaning against her, and rose quickly, placing the exquisitely carved box on the table beside the crib figures. She helped Hilda to her feet and settled her on the couch, bent to place another log on the fire and moved over to her desk. Storing the little jeweller’s box inside the top drawer, she picked up the velvet book Hilda had given her, opened it and walked back to the couch.
Handing the book to Hilda, she said quietly, “You said you needed to know there was hope. Read that page while I’m gone. Refresh your memory – let Christmas revive your hope in your future, my daughter.”
Hilda looked down at her own handwriting: What is Christmas? It is tenderness for the past, courage for the present, hope for the future. It is a fervent wish that every cup may overflow with blessings rich and eternal, that every path may lead to peace.” (Agnes M Pharo)
She stared into the now-roaring fire, lost in her memories – so many Christmases now behind her, sad ones and happy ones, lonely ones and love-filled ones……
She never heard Mother Abbess’s return, only coming back to harsh reality when the nun proffered her a s***n and a bowl of fragrant steaming soup. “Eat, love. You need something to keep you going. You’ve eaten nothing at all today,” said the sweet voice persuasively.
Hilda took the s***n but looked up into the green kindliness of the eyes watching her. “There is another quote there,” she whispered.
Christmas is not an external event at all, but a piece of one’s home that one carries in one’s heart. (Freya Stark)
There was silence as green eyes held blue-grey ones. “Mother was my home, and I lost her. James became my home, and I lost him. Nell has been my home for long years. Now I have lost her. But yes, all those memories are stored there quietly inside me – and they will warm and nourish me when I am cold and lonely, as I am right now.”
She turned her eyes away and stared once more into the flames, seeing the flames of other hearths, now gone. Her voice was mellow and gentle as she continued, her eyes tender. “Those memories are like precious Christmas ornaments, wrapped lovingly in tissue paper and stored away in beautiful boxes – I must make sure I take them out from time to time, unwrap them and enjoy their beauty, even if they bring tears, for they are bits of the homes I have loved so much.”
Mother Abbess caught her breath in wonder. Where did Hilda find such beauteous images?
Hilda was still a little remote, quiet and still, but the nun felt the barrier was down enough that she was allowed to put out a hand and lay it gently against a white cheek. “Will you share that idea with Ellie, sweetheart? I think it would help her – for she too has more memories inside her than she realises.”
Hilda nodded but her eyes remained on the fire, her face very still. Mother Abbess took a deep breath. “You told me that Nell once called you Titania – and how surprised you were for she was not given to flights of fancy. But she was so right, daughter. You have such a delicate, fairylike grace in your approach to life and love – and in the way you handle people, especially life’s needy ones.”
She smiled tenderly and a little mirthfully. “I’m going to join Nell and have my own flight of fancy, child. I think God must have scattered magical fairy dust over you at birth, for even then I should imagine you were marked out as one of His special ones. And you have taken that fairy dust of God’s and poured it all out on others, as the woman in the Gospel did when she poured her precious, priceless ointment over the Lord’s feet, for no other reason than to show her love for Him.”
She was gratified to see a fleeting smile ripple across the still features but there was no other response. “Eat, daughter,” she repeated quietly.
She drank her own soup and watched Hilda try to eat, but knew she was only doing it to please her friend. She was force-feeding herself, her soul still removed enough from this world that food was anathema to her. And indeed the s***n soon faltered and was laid down. Mother Abbess understood that to insist would be counter-productive so she calmly finished her own and then stood to remove bowl and s***n from Hilda.
She plumped up the cushions and knelt in front of Hilda, keeping everything low-key and very gentle. “I want you to lie here for a while and try to sleep. I won’t insist on you going to bed but you do need rest, especially as you can’t eat right now. I don’t want you collapsing again. I promise to stay and keep watch, in case of nightmares.”
“But you should be in chapel. Not only is it Christmas Eve but you are their leader. They need to see you there.” Hilda spoke anxiously, the leader in her knowing how important it was to be visible. “I’m being very selfish.”
Mother Abbess shook her head. “Hilda, not one person in this Convent would ever call you selfish. No, love, at the moment your agony is very real and you need support. You have just done a very hard and brave thing – and it has added to your pain.”
Very gently, she laid Hilda down as she spoke and tucked the blanket round her lovingly. She removed the pins from the silvered hair and stroked it tenderly, trying to allay the anxiety in Hilda’s eyes. “If there is an emergency with one of our guests, everyone understands. My Prioress is there in my place. Two other Sisters are doing exactly as I am at this moment – service to others is also prayer, you know. Please don’t fret, child. Your need is greater than God’s right this moment.”
She could see her gentle tone was having an effect – Hilda’s face had lost a little of its tension, her eyes were becoming drowsy.
“I should tell you Ellie is desperate to see you.” Hilda’s face immediately tensed again. “Sh, love, relax. She’s fine, very interested in all that is going on here. She’s been busy wrapping all those mysterious gifts you helped her buy and she’s now in the kitchen helping to make mince pies. I’ve told her she can see you after you have rested.”
While she had been speaking Hilda’s eyelids had fallen and opened again a few times, but finally they gave up the unequal struggle and remained closed. She slept. Breathing a sigh of relief, Mother Abbess stroked the white cheek again gently, adjusted the blanket then rose and retrieved her prayer book from her desk. She sat motionless, alternately praying and eyeing Hilda’s face anxiously, even though her friend slumbered peacefully.
After a while, the carved chest began to insinuate itself into her thoughts. She regarded it thoughtfully for a few minutes, imagining a young Hilda discovering it and relishing its beauty. She leaned over and picked it up. Opening it, she smelled once more the faint spicy fragrance that was released. She stroked the beautiful blue silk lining, now fragile and faded in places. She picked up some of the wooden treasures, holding them up to the light and admiring their artistry while reflecting sadly on the wistful desires of a heart-broken Hilda collecting these, hoping one day to assuage her loneliness. Which she had done when she gave them away – and was given, in return, the home she had so craved.
Suddenly she knew she had to remove these before Hilda woke up. However, she also knew that Hilda was correct when she had said that they needed to be used and loved. But the nun did not want to have them buried amongst the other baubles and decorations on the tree in the lofty front hall. Something special needed to be done with them. Her thoughts flew to the Convent’s artist, Sister Patricia. Maybe she and Ellie could think of something for her.
Acting at once on this impulse, she closed the chest and carried it quietly out of the room….
The CBB
-> Starting again at Sarres...
output generated using printer-friendly topic mod, All times are GMT
Page 1 of 1
Powered by phpBB 2.0.6 © 2001,2002 phpBB Group