New Dreams - Part 6
The CBB -> Starting again at Sarres...

#1: New Dreams - Part 6 Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 4:33 pm


Just to confuse you, this will be Part 8 in the archives. Laughing

The end of term was close at hand, promising relief to all. Exams had taken place, reports had been written, and now excitement mounted to fever pitch as all concentrated hard on rehearsals for the play. Hilda and Rosalie at the main school, and Nancy and Gillian over at St Mildred’s, all worked hard to get the loose ends tied together, the admin sorted – for Hilda was determined she would leave the school the day after term ended. She knew she needed what only Mother Abbess and the Convent could give her, so she would spend the whole holiday there, nearly three weeks.

In spite of all the office work, she still got caught up in the fever whenever she entered the staffroom, although her quiet presence tended to reduce the tension somewhat. There had been panic when Marianne Westwood and Susan Makepeace, who had two of the main parts in the play, had managed to trip each other up on stage, sustaining between them a broken collar bone and a sprained ankle. However their understudies had risen magnificently to the occasion. Then Kathie had caught a bad cold, leaving Vivien to hold the fort for a day or two.

The dress rehearsal had taken place that day, and had left the two women in despair. Jeanne de Lachennais tried to console them as she handed them their much-needed coffee. “But, mes chères, c’est toujours pareil. Everything will be wonderful tomorrow, je vous assure.”

Kathie was having none of it! “The singing was flat, the main characters all forgot their words, Mary dropped the baby, for goodness sake….. I give up!” she wailed, flinging out her arms wildly and almost overturning the coffee Jeanne was holding out to her.

“Actually, Kathie, it was so bad it has got to be better tomorrow!” murmured Vivien, who giggled reprehensively when Kathie glared at her.

Hilda watched and listened, but said not a word, knowing with absolute certainty that Vivien would be proved correct. Every year volatile Kathie fell into the doldrums and tore out her hair, and every year it was a miracle of perfection on the day.

And so it was this year! Hilda stepped up onto the stage to introduce the play and welcome the guests, knowing she had no need to worry. Kathie’s face had been wreathed in smiles backstage, she and Vivien calming the nervous girls with placid words.

It was Hilda herself who suddenly came unstuck! As she was speaking, she was suddenly, and heart wrenchingly, assailed by the absence of Nell there on the front row among their friends. She had been such a strong presence there, year after year, that Hilda had automatically searched for the beloved face. Her mouth dried, her words faltered and she found herself for a moment unable to continue…..but Joey saw what had happened and quickly held her hands out, thumbs up. Hilda smiled tremulously at her, and managed to stumble through the rest of her welcoming speech.

However, the damage had been done, and grief swept over her in great waves, impossible to control. She sat there watching the very moving play that Joey had written and her thoughts were almost entirely of Nell. Towards the end, as they finished with the usual Nativity scene in all its emotional simplicity and Mary sang The Coventry Carol “Lullay, thou little tiny child,” tears began to trickle unnoticed down her cheeks and her aching heart cried out in loss and loneliness. Biddy Courvoisier was sitting beside her and sensed what was happening, reaching out to grasp her hand in comfort, but Hilda was far, far away:

Nell, dear heart, I’ve now stumbled through two terms without you by my side. I’ve only been half-alive at times, and so sad and lonely it has been almost unbearable.

You and Mother Abbess have brought me this far, but how on earth am I going to get through this first Christmas without you? I need you still so much, my darling. Show me you’re still near, that you still love me, and whisper some sweet memory for me, a Christmas gift….


Last edited by MaryR on Thu Apr 20, 2006 8:10 pm; edited 1 time in total

 


#2:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 4:35 pm


Hilda sat on the bed in her Convent room and felt her tense body relax a little. How good it was to be back here in this serene and timeless atmosphere where she had learned so much and received such love. Surveying the boxes and packages scattered on the bed her thoughts returned to her arrival a little earlier…..

Mother Abbess had been waiting at the door for her and had taken her by the shoulders and surveyed her face closely. She was not reassured! The blue-grey eyes were haunted and far too large for the pale, gaunt face, its cheekbones too sharply chiselled. Hilda was as thin as she had been in the summer and wore the same air of profound sadness, but now physical pain had added its own lines.

Hilda had made no effort to hide. This nun saw straight through her, right to her core, so what was the point? She stood there quietly, patiently, as she was stripped of her defences, and was suddenly rewarded by being enveloped in a warm embrace. Tears stung her eyes, but she forced them back as she whispered just two words, “I’m home!”

“Yes, child, you’re home - where you now belong,” replied Mother Abbess lovingly. “And, please God, we can repair some of the damage before we send you out into the world again.” Hilda hid her face in the nun’s shoulder and Mother Abbess held the fragile, trembling figure close a moment before leading her to her room, appreciating that any more loving words would be Hilda’s undoing.

“You know the routine, but as it’s a while till chapel and dinner, I’ll send some tea along. You must be thirsty. By the way, these arrived for you a day or two ago,” and she indicated two boxes, one large and one somewhat smaller, bearing foreign stamps and resting in the corner of the room. Hilda nodded, glad they had arrived safely, but then tensed as Mother Abbess turned to face her.

“I should also tell you that several large cartons arrived weeks ago from Devon.” She watched the shadows deepen in Hilda’s eyes. “Nell’s things? I know you told me to expect them.”

Hilda nodded, a huge lump growing in her throat, but managing to whisper, “Where are they?”

“In the cellars, but don’t worry, it’s nice and dry there.” She took Hilda by the shoulders again to steady her. “You don’t need to open them now, Hilda. They can wait till you’re ready – forever, if need be. There’s plenty of space down there.”

Hilda’s face was bleak as she looked back at the nun. “There is one thing I want – but the rest….” She shook her head and closed her eyes. “Not yet,” she whispered. “Not just yet.”

Mother Abbess showed her down to the cellar but, at Hilda’s request, she left her there alone. Hilda stared at those cartons a long, long while, wondering how she could stop herself falling apart when she opened them.

Steeling herself, she knelt by the nearest one and fitted the key Mother Abbess had handed her into the padlock. She breathed a ragged sigh of relief as she lifted the lid – most of the objects were swathed in newspaper, unrecognisable and therefore rousing no pain. Rummaging around, and not finding what she wanted, she opened a second box, and a third. Beginning to feel rather desperate she threw open the fourth lid – to find it there, in plain sight, wrapped in clear polythene.

Removing it, she slammed shut the lid of the carton. Leaning forward, she found herself laying her arms across it, as though to hug it to her. The next instant, her face was buried in the crook of her elbow, her heart filled with monstrous pain. These boxes held all she had left of Nell, apart from the gifts that Nell had given her over the years and a few albums of photos, yet somehow she had to learn to let go of them all, if she was to enter here as a nun…..

 


#3:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 4:37 pm


Hilda placed on her bedside table the object she had taken from the carton . She ran her fingers tenderly over the carved wood, her memory going back twenty years or more. Opening the lid, she gazed wistfully at the contents, but closed it again hastily when tears began to drip onto the silk lining. It would not do to spoil it after all these years of loving use.

Wiping the tears away with trembling fingers, she took the larger of the two boxes Mother Abbess had indicated and placed it by the door. She might need help with it later. She emptied the contents of the smaller one onto the bed, checking everything over, then poured herself a cup of tea and unpacked her suitcase, putting everything tidily away except for the tissue and wrapping paper from the bottom of the case, and a small, flat, gift-wrapped package.

She sat on the bed with the paper and proceeded to make a beautiful little parcel of each item she had taken from the cardboard box. Satisfied, she laid them all carefully back inside the box, and parcelled that up as well, finishing it off with shiny ribbon and a bow. She laid on top of this the flat package, and placed these by the door beside the larger box.

Looking at her watch, she realised it was almost time for the small service in chapel before dinner, the service at which she had finally fallen apart the first day she had set foot in the Convent. Little had she known, then, what a friend would be waiting for her or what new dream God would have in store for her. That friend and that dream were the only things keeping her afloat at the moment, she reflected sadly. The school could no longer uphold her, despite her sense of responsibility for all within it, despite her profound love for the girls in her care.

She tidied her hair and freshened her face, then made her way to the chapel. On the way she stopped off at the Portresses’s little room to ask a favour. Once inside the chapel, she settled at the back and looked around. Dancing shadows were cast on the panelled walls by the tall, flickering candles standing on the altar, the only ornaments for no flowers were allowed there during Advent. The wall behind the altar was not panelled, but painted a beautiful, rich, deep, blue and into this were cut three long narrow stained glass windows which drenched the chapel with colour when the sun shone through them. Tonight, though, you could draw the sweet-smelling dimness around you like a blanket and feel cocooned in quietude.

As the nun’s quiet prayers and gentle singing flowed around her, she felt some peace creep into her soul, she felt love wrap her round. She knew she would never find anywhere else what she had found here since Nell’s death. She knew too, suddenly, that it was love, not time, that would heal her wounds. Not yet, for the searing ache that had eased for a while had returned in full force since the accident. Not yet, but maybe, one day….

Nell, you promised, a few weeks ago, to trace the rainbow through the rain for me when I couldn’t do it myself, in spite of my solemn vow. I need you to do that for me at the moment, dear heart, for I am so weak and lonely. And I still need that memory whispering in my ear, something to ease the pain..…

She felt tears begin to well in her eyes but she ruthlessly forced them back. She would not break down again in this peaceful refuge!

 


#4:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 4:39 pm


From her seat across the room, Mother Abbess watched Hilda closely during the evening meal and immediately guessed at some battle fought and won since she had welcomed her back. Hilda’s smile, a smile which always lit up her whole face, tonight had a heartbreaking quality about it as she talked quietly to the other guests at her table, people just as much in need of help as she herself.

Mother Abbess was seriously alarmed by Hilda’s appearance. As she had noticed earlier, Hilda’s pallor, her huge shadowed eyes, the hollows at her temples, all spoke of exhaustion, of barely-concealed emotion, of sleepless nights and physical pain. Her whole posture spoke of tension, and the deep reserve in her face showed Mother Abbess all too clearly that the walls were up – not only up, but barricaded from within. She was isolating herself again. And how adept at it she was!

The nun had never met anyone before, in all her years of counselling, with such deep reserve and such wells of courage as Hilda had – the fruit of her mother’s early death and her own lonely existence after that. The subsequent death of her fiancé had only added to her ability to shut it all behind locked doors and smile and smile and smile…..

The wonder of it was that she had not withered away emotionally behind that barricade. Instead she had found it within her to be present always for others, to be gentle and loving, a gracious and graceful presence, with a most profound love of her Maker. She had even managed to overcome her deep fear of more loss and open herself up to Nell – and was now suffering the consequences.

One day, Mother Abbess knew, Hilda would be so grateful for all the happy years she had had with Nell, would glory in wonderful memories of the deep and tender love that had enriched them both so much. One day! But not yet, when that wound was so deep and lacerating.

She knew, from being there, just how much Hilda’s grief was once more swamping her. That was the trouble with grief – it ebbed and flowed, knew no time table. Just when you thought you might have vanquished it and could relax, as Hilda had started to relax in the Autumn, it sneaked up on you and grabbed you from behind, taking your breath away once more.

She had heard from Gwynneth just how Hilda was trying to fight it. By hiding, instead of opening up and giving in to it; by standing firm, instead of swaying with the harshness of it – and like the trees, unless you bent and swayed into the wind, you snapped!

Mother Abbess’s lips set firm. She intended to break through that reserve, that isolation, and she intended to do so before Christmas, or the festival would destroy Hilda. Mother Abbess would smash down that mighty barricade, if it killed her – and knowing Hilda, it probably would! For strong, stubborn Hilda would fight her every step of the way.

 


#5:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 4:43 pm


Her dark thoughts were interrupted by one of the lay sisters from the kitchen, who had entered and set a large box down on the floor beside the nun. Startled, Mother Abbess recognised the larger of the two boxes from Hilda’s room and her eyes flew to her friend. Hilda shook her head very slightly and smiled. Mother Abbess indicated with her hand that Hilda should join her but again Hilda shook her head.

Knowing how Hilda hated the limelight, Mother Abbess nodded. Leaning down, she folded back the flaps of the box, reached in and pulled out something wrapped in newspaper. Carefully peeling back the paper, the nun saw what was within and gasped. Again her eyes sought Hilda’s and again the latter smiled, encouragingly.

Mother Abbess turned the object slowly in her hand and then, standing up, held it out for everyone to see. There were murmurs of astonishment and admiration from all corners of the room. It was a shepherd, beautifully crafted in some dark polished wood. He was about eighteen inches high, holding a lamb in his arms, and his face had been most carefully carved to reveal the rough features and thick curly beard of one who worked outdoors in all seasons.

Laying it down on the table, Mother Abbess indicated to one of the guests that he should delve in the box. When the next item was unwrapped, there stood on the table a king, grave and dignified, a turban on his head, a finely carved box in his hands. One could almost feel the solemn purpose of his journey.

A third guest reached in to reveal Mary, the Mother of Jesus, and at the sight of this Mother Abbess’s eyes widened. Where had Hilda found these wondrous objects? Mary’s face was delicately delineated to reveal such depths of tenderness; her robes flowed so gracefully around her, her arms outstretched in love to gather up her infant son. How had the artist produced such grace and beauty out of an unfeeling block of wood? It was a miracle of craftsmanship and artistry. For a fleeting moment the nun’s mind touched on Vivien Knowles’ superb gift with another unfeeling material…..

By the time the box was empty there stood on the table a complete crèche – the tender Mary, a Joseph whose face was serious and watchful, an adorable baby, three splendid and very different Kings, but all dignified and rather solemn, another large shepherd and a young and very gentle-looking shepherd boy. There were also a couple of lambs, their curly wool so lifelike, a little donkey and a strong and sturdy ox.

They were a masterpiece of carving, a truly precious and perfect gift. A reverent silence descended on the dining room at the grace and serenity of the large figures. Mother Abbess looked across at Hilda – to find her place empty. She had slipped out without anyone noticing! How like Hilda, thought the nun fondly, to give so generously but not to want the thanks.

Well, she had met her match in Mother Abbess! The nun looked at the nun nearest the door and raised her eyebrows interrogatively. Sister Margaret nodded in understanding and disappeared. A few moments later, as the guests were still handling and exclaiming over the figures, Sister Margaret returned, with a very reluctant Hilda, smiling bashfully but obedient to her future Superior.

“You should know me better than that, my dear Hilda,” said the nun quietly. “You didn’t really think I would let you escape that easily, did you? Where did you find these exquisite creations?”

Hilda picked up the figure of Mary and stroked the shining wood of her face as she spoke quietly in that rich mellow voice of hers that yet reached the corners of the room. “They come from Oberammergau in Bavaria.”

“Where they hold the Passion Play?” asked Mother Abbess in surprise.

Hilda nodded and looked around, the teacher in her coming to the fore. “Does anyone know much about the play?” When most of those present shook their heads, she indicated they should sit down again, and then explained how the villagers in Oberammergau had produced the Passion Play once every ten years in gratitude to God for their escape from the plague that had been prevalent in 1663, almost exactly three hundred years ago.

What an enthralling teacher she must be, thought Mother Abbess, hearing the beautiful voice and watching the light in Hilda’s eyes as she explained. How gracious yet compelling she is. She makes you want to listen. Lucky, lucky children!

Mother Abbess exchanged speaking glances with a newcomer to the convent, who had been seated at a table near the kitchen. She was just an ordinary-looking, middle-aged nun – until one looked into her eyes and noted the cool, dispassionate gaze. This woman would not miss one single, solitary thing. Hilda, however, another individual who normally missed nothing, remained completely unaware of this exchange of looks.

She turned and spoke with great simplicity to the Mother Abbess. “The villagers produce the most beautiful carvings and I thought this might express my gratitude - for all you have done for me, and for others,” and she indicated the other guests sitting there, who all nodded their heads in agreement.

Mother Abbess opened her mouth to argue but Hilda just carried on regardless. “I remembered that, while I was here in the summer, one of the guests inadvertently left the bath running and flooded your storeroom, ruining your crib figures.”

Mother Abbess nodded. “That’s right – it left us with nothing to place in the chapel, and we couldn’t afford to replace them. It wasn’t the only thing we lost either,” she said forcefully, and cast a somewhat baleful eye over the assembled company. Sometimes people seemed unable to understand that money was permanently short in a convent and that they must not waste resources!

One or two of the guests shifted uncomfortably under that withering glare and Hilda grinned inwardly. Mother Abbess was nothing if not forthright!

Hilda spoke hastily, trying to restore peace. “Anyway, I thought you might like this as a replacement – and I’m sure we will all try to be more careful,” and her eyes glowed with her love for her friend.

“Hilda, my dear, we shall treasure them always,” said Mother Abbess softly. “We shall be the envy of all the other convents in the area. They shall go into the chapel right now. They are just the right size. But first ….” and she leaned over and picked up the Child in the manger.

Reaching into the box she pulled out a piece of the paper and wrapped it carefully round the figure. She handed it to Hilda, adding lovingly, “You shall be the one to place the bambino in the crib at our midnight service. Keep Him safe for us until then.”

Hilda took the parcel but her eyes drifted towards a young girl of about sixteen who had been seated next to Sister Patricia during the meal. Hilda had noticed her at first because she was by far the youngest person there, but then, as she had watched her unobtrusively, she had remarked the intense sadness in the girl’s eyes, a sorrow far too great for one so young. Now she moved over to the girl, who gazed at her broodingly from her seat in the corner.

Hilda bent over and placed the parcel by the girl’s hand where it lay on the table. Her voice when she spoke was very gentle. “I don’t know your name, my dear, but I think the Christ child would count it an honour to be put in place by the youngest person here. I remember how He loved the children to come to Him.”

The girl’s face did not alter as she stared up at Hilda but the latter saw some light come into the bleak blue eyes. The girl’s hand reached out and touched the parcel – and then she nodded at Hilda. No more needed to be said. Hilda smiled down at her, compassion abroad in her face, and then turned and went back to Mother Abbess, who had again glanced the newcomer’s way, and seen the latter nod.

“God bless you, love,” Mother Abbess whispered, her voice trembling. “You see what no one else sees and, as always, you give such love and tenderness.”

 


#6:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 4:46 pm


Hilda tapped on Mother Abbess’s door, balancing her packages as she did so. While they were placing the crib figures in the chapel after dinner, the nun had agreed to see her later. Now here she was, and she knew she was being spoiled – that she was being given access denied to many, and that she would not be treated like this once she had entered. But right now she needed this spoiling, this leniency.

Besides, she loved this woman, as a friend but also increasingly as a mother. Mother Abbess did not, could not, replace Nell – but she was the only one who helped when things got really bad, who saw and understood her as no one else now did – and she did so want to repay her a little for all she did, for all she was. The fact that Mother Abbess already felt more rewarded than she deserved was unknown to Hilda, although the nun had tried to tell her often enough.

Entering, she found the wood-panelled room lit only by the flickering light of the fire and one small lamp on the desk, where Mother Abbess was sitting writing. The nun’s eyebrows disappeared into her wimple when she caught sight of the parcels in Hilda’s arms.

“Haven’t you already spoiled us enough already with that magnificent crib, young lady – not to mention that money which arrives every month, and which my bank manager informs me has mysteriously increased in value just recently?” Her lips quivered on the edge of laughter as she saw Hilda’s abashed face. Clearly they were not supposed to have known that fact just yet! “Hilda, love, these really are not necessary.”

“Who said anything about necessity?” asked Hilda, her eyes and voice soft as she laid her gifts on the desk. “One usually offers gifts out of love – and these are no exception.”

“But, Hilda, I can’t…” began mother Abbess anxiously.

Hilda held up her hand. “I know. You’re a nun. You’re not allowed to own things personally – they must be for the whole community. Well, the larger package can be enjoyed by all who come in here to see you – or anywhere else you choose to place it.” She stopped and touched the curling ribbons on the flat present. “This one - you must decide what you want to do with it. You’ll have guessed it’s a book. It could join your others….” and she indicated the well-stocked shelves set around the room.

Hilda perched herself on the corner of the desk and Mother Abbess, her eyes on the thin, shadowed face watching her, pulled the larger gift forward. Carefully, she undid the gold ribbon and peeled back the star-studded paper, then stared as she saw and recognised the smaller of the two boxes that had been placed earlier in Hilda’s room. What a lot of planning Hilda had put into these presents, she thought.

Looking up at her friend quizzically, she folded back the flaps and peered in the box. When she saw all the smaller beribboned parcels her eyes flew once more to Hilda, but the latter merely smiled and indicated she should delve in. Her hand trembling, Mother Abbess unwrapped the first parcel – to behold the figure of a King, about nine inches high, half the size of the figures for the chapel. It was a perfect replica of the larger one, and it was exquisite, the carving of the face sheer perfection.

“Hilda…” breathed Mother Abbess, lost for words. She stroked the smooth, glossy wood wonderingly, then dived into the box again. Eventually, on the desk stood another beautiful, but smaller, set of crib figures, only this set had the addition of two angels, carved with consummate artistry to reveal huge curving wings of infinite majesty and beauty, faces of matchless tranquillity. “Oh Hilda, you do so love to spoil people!”

“I have no one left to spoil, now Nell is dead,” whispered Hilda, her eyes looking sorrowfully into the nun’s. “So, as my new family, you will have to suffer, I’m afraid.”

Thinking of all the love and compassion inside Hilda, how much she needed to give to others, Mother Abbess wanted to cry out at the injustice of it all. But Hilda was not looking for sympathy, merely stating a fact, and now she leaned over and gently stroked the little bambino in his swaddling clothes.

“I have a very small crib of my own, which I have always loved. Seeing these two here when I enter will be a little reminder of my former life.”

“What will you do with yours?” asked Mother Abbess curiously.

Hilda shook her head. “I have no idea. And there are all my books….” Her voice trailed away and there was something so stark in her face that the nun remembered that Hilda had been down in the cellar with Nell’s belongings. Was that where the battle had taken place?

“Will you find it hard to give them up – your possessions?” Mother Abbess watched Hilda carefully as she asked, but the latter neither flinched nor turned away.

“Nell and I never set much store by possessions, but yes…..some of them,” Hilda whispered, and licked suddenly dry lips. “Presents from Nell over the years, some of the things down in those boxes, photos…..” She looked down at her hands and the nun’s eyes followed – the seal rings! Hilda touched the one on her left hand gently. “And this, which you already know all about! How will I do it, Mother? How?”

Her voice was a despairing whisper and Mother Abbess’s hand came out to squeeze hers. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart, strength will be given. Anything you find too hard to lose – like the ring - you bring with you and we work on it together. We all know how difficult it is. We all had something that was too precious to offer.”

Hilda looked at her gravely, her throat tight, and let the silence settle while she fought her emotions. After a while she added quietly, “I’ve been thinking about this recently, and there are two things I want to give you this Christmas, while I’m here. It will be hard, so hard, but if I do it now, then maybe by the time I enter I will have learned to be without them. They are two of my most treasured possessions, and I’ll try to explain what they mean to me.”

She faltered, and when she spoke again, Mother Abbess could hear the suppressed tears in her voice. “But you may have to wait awhile….until I have plucked up enough courage to hand them over. In fact, I may well need your help to do it.”

She looked so vulnerable as she sat there, so alone, so defeated, that Mother Abbess stood up and wrapped her strong arms round her, holding her close. Hilda melted for a moment into that embrace. She had fled here to the convent like a chick to its nest. Now the chick could relax and let go for a while – it was safe! It could grow strong again in the shelter of its mother’s wing.

 


#7:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 6:23 pm


After a few moments, however, Hilda reluctantly moved out of that warm embrace, knowing she must not learn to depend too much on this woman. She indicated the other package and Mother Abbess, recognising bravery and dignity when she saw them, said nothing. Instead, she returned to her seat and peeled off the gold ribbon and star-strewn paper – to find a simple, green, leather-bound book without a title.

Curious, Mother Abbess flicked through the crisp, cream pages and saw they were covered in Hilda’s elegant, flowing handwriting. Startled, she stopped at one page, read it, then turned to another and another. Each and every page was filled with quotations from novels, poems, prayers, biographies, the Bible; there were proverbs, remarks by statesmen and famous people…..

Finally she looked up at Hilda, her eyes wide with wonder. “Hilda, you’ve taken my breath away once again. I dread to think how long you spent copying all this out, especially considering how ill you’ve been recently. Wondrous is the only word that springs to mind.”

Her eyes dropped to the last page. “Always take an emergency leisurely.” She looked at Hilda and smiled admiringly. “I can see that’s a Chinese proverb, but it’s also your own approach to life, my dear. You should take it as your motto. I remember how calmly and quietly you spoke to that young man who broke in here – you almost hypnotised him. It was as though you made time slow down, to give yourself room to manoeuvre.”

Her eyes eagerly sought the book once more, finding new delights on each page, all the time knowing there were more to discover. She began to read out loud, chuckling now and then to herself.

Laughter is the sun that drives winter from the human face. (Victor Hugo)

Life is but a day;
a fragile dewdrop on its perilous way
from a tree’s summit.
(Keats)

I didn’t like the play. But then I saw it under adverse conditions. The curtain was up. (Groucho Marx)

Man will occasionally stumble over the truth, but most of the time he will pick himself up and continue on. (Winston Churchill)

You might as well be useful where you are, because you certainly can be of no use where you are not. (Oswald Chambers)

Preach the gospel all the time. If necessary, use words. (St Francis of Assisi)


“Oh, didn’t he get that right?” chuckled Mother Abbess, her eyes shining with her delight at this most unusual gift.

Forgiveness is finding the
Way through the thorns
To the side of an old enemy.
(Waldo Williams)

Consider the postage stamp. Its usefulness consists in the ability to stick to one thing until it gets there. (Josh Billings)

If you have faith, and an appreciation of the simple things of life, let others light their candles from it. (Margaret Fuller)

Angels can fly because they take themselves lightly. (G K Chesterton)

Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, vision cleared, ambition inspired and success achieved. (Helen Keller)

No bird soars too high if he soars with his own wings. (William Blake)


“Which is what we try to teach the novices here,” whispered Mother Abbess. “They must be themselves, only themselves. Why do people think being a nun means to conform? It is to find freedom to truly be only what God made you.”

When a great moment knocks on the door of your life, it is often no louder than the beating of your heart, and it is very easy to miss it. (Boris Pasternak)

Let your life lightly dance on the edges of time like a drop of dew on the tip of a leaf.
(Rabindranath Tagore)

Alas for those who never sing.
But die with all their music in them
(Oliver Wendell Holmes)

I often quote myself: it adds spice to the conversation, (G. B. Shaw)

It isn’t life that matters; it’s the courage you bring to it. (Hugh Walpole)

God asks no man whether he will accept life. This is not the choice. You must take it. The only question is how. (Henry Ward Beecher)


The nun looked up at Hilda at that point, her eyes saying all she thought. Those last two quotations could have been applied so literally to this slender woman watching her, as could the next one she saw when she lowered her eyes again.

Have courage in the greatest sorrows of life and patience for the small ones, and when you have laboriously accomplished your daily tasks, go to sleep in peace. God is awake. (Hugo)

Sit loosely in the saddle of life. ( R L Stevenson)

If instead of a gem, or even a flower, we should cast the gift of a loving thought into the heart of a friend, that would be giving as the angels give. (George MacDonald)

Life is strewn with miracles for which people who love can always hope. (Marcel Proust)

Whatever God does, the first outburst is always compassion. (Meister Eckhart 1260 – 1327)

Teach me your mood, O patient stars,
Who climb each night the ancient sky,
Leaving on space no shade, no scars,
No trace of age, no fear to die.
(Emerson
)

Mother Abbess looked up at Hilda. “No fear to die?” she queried searchingly and Hilda shook her head and smiled sadly. She had never been afraid of death, not for herself.

The nun squeezed her hand gently and then dove back into this treasure trove of a book. What a gift!

Use what talents you possess; the woods would be very silent if no birds sang there except those that sing best. (Henry Van Dyke)

To be nobody but yourself – in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you like everybody else – means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight, and never stop fighting. (e.e.cummings)

-Night is drawing nigh –
For all that has been – Thanks!
For all that shall be – Yes!
(Dag Hammarskjöld)

Nostalgia for other people’s lives. This is because, seen from the outside, they form a whole, while our life, seen from the inside, is all bits and pieces. Once again, we run after an illusion of unity. (Albert Camus)

That shining moon – watched by that one faint star:
Sure now am I, beyond the fear of change,
The lovely in life is the familiar,
And only the lovelier for continuing strange.
(Walter de la Mare)

In God there is no hunger that needs to be filled, only plenteousness that desires to give.
(C S Lewis)

Whenever I find myself in the cellar of affliction, I always look about for the wine.
(Samuel Rutherford – Scottish minister in the 17th century)


Mother Abbess chuckled out loud again at that last one. “Oh that’s wonderful. Would that we could all do that.” Finally she raised her head, placed the book back on the desk and reached out to grasp Hilda’s hand. “Sweetheart, this is one of the loveliest things anyone has ever done for me.” Her voice broke at the wealth of love Hilda was pouring out, even in the midst of her present bitter pain.

Hilda leaned over from the corner of the desk and kissed the nun’s soft cheek. “Then I’m glad I found the time, for there is so little I can do for you,” she said warmly.

“Except the money, which you almost forced on us months ago,” muttered Mother Abbess wryly.

“But that’s not really for you, is it? It’s to help others.” Hilda indicated the book, the crib figures. “I needed to do something for you. I needed to repay a little of my debt, for debt there surely is.”

Mother Abbess merely shook her head, knowing words would be a waste of time, and Hilda added teasingly, “There’s a quote somewhere in there that says something like: Do give books for Christmas. They’re never fattening, seldom sinful and permanently personal. (Lenore Hershey)”

“This is certainly personal, very personal – and definitely not sinful, just overwhelmingly wonderful” whispered the nun, stroking the green cover.

“I have at least twelve of these,” pointed out Hilda. “I always have one to hand when I read. It saves endless time later searching for just the piece I may want.”

Mother Abbess raised her eyes. “Then will you do something for me?” Hilda nodded. “Will you bring them all with you when you enter? They may be of immense value, not just to the community, but to the people who come to us. Who knows when a few well-chosen words may leap off the page and help someone?”

Hilda’s eyes became bleak and she looked over to the fire. Mother Abbess waited, guessing she was thinking of Nell. When Hilda spoke again, her voice was distant. “You asked would I find it hard to give up my belongings. I may have trouble with my books. I don’t know what I would have done without them these last months. They were the only light in the dark places on some days.”

Silence fell again, and when she next spoke her voice was warmer but very faint and she turned to look at the nun. “Along with you, they comforted me, gave me fresh insights.” She indicated the book. “And some of it is written in there. I know my books and poetry will help me in the months yet to come – for I am not over Nell and there will still be hard days.”

 


#8:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 6:25 pm


Mother Abbess rose to her feet. Time to distract her a little, for her first night here was not the time to take a sledgehammer to those walls. Tomorrow though – for it would wait no longer! “Are you going to help me decide the best place for these magnificent creations?”

They both considered the lofty, wood-panelled room with its immense, overflowing bookshelves, large bay windows and carved overmantle. Several comfortable armchairs and a soft leather couch were grouped round the fire, and in front of the couch was a low glass table set on dark carved wooden legs. Mother Abbess and Hilda smiled at each other. The perfect place – a focal point during conversations, backlit by the dancing flames in the wide hearth.

Carefully they set the figures on the glass: the two shepherds and their sweet-faced sheep, the three kings, so majestic in their bearing, a bearded Joseph hovering protectively over Mary in her flowing robes, she in her turn kneeling to worship. But Mother Abbess held the Babe in her hands and looked at Hilda, crouched on the floor setting the figures straight.

“You gave the other bambino to Ellie – and that was fitting for she has suffered. But this one is yours to place, my daughter, because of all you have done for us, because of all you are.”

Hilda blinked back sudden tears at the affection in the nun’s voice as the latter went over to her desk, wrapped the figure in some discarded tissue paper and returned to place it in Hilda’s hand, kneeling again as she did so. “Advent is a time for waiting, for just sitting quietly with Jesus. Hold Him close to your heart, sweetheart, and He will wipe away all your tears.”

Hilda looked down at the parcel in her hand and her lips trembled as she spoke:

God walked down the stairs of Heaven with a Baby in His arms. (Paul Scherer)

Mother Abbess smiled gently at her. “That’s beautiful, my dear. I do hope you included it in the book.” She turned and picked up the two remaining figures. “My favourites,” she said quietly. “Two serene and watchful angels,” and she placed them one each side of the arranged figures as though to keep guard.

The two of them continued kneeling there in silence, letting peace enfold them. After a while Hilda stirred and whispered, “Maybe I should give you more than this, more than my notebooks. I’ll make you a gift of my whole library.”

“No one else who would appreciate them?”

Hilda shook her head. “I may give one or two as parting gifts but no….” Her face was intensely sad. “I’m singularly lacking in family or close friends, Mother. After James’ death and I left the country – I shut the door on my friends as well as on my grief. Miss Cullen and my father had already died by then. As for the school, I can’t make a friend of one or two – it has to be all or none.”

The loneliness of leadership, reflected the nun. “And yet, Hilda, sweetheart, there are many people who love you dearly, to whom you mean so much and who will be so sad to lose you.”

She spoke with great tenderness in her sweet voice, her face alight with her own deep love for this gentle, gracious woman, who had such a talent for friendship, yet who knew not just how rare and special she was.

 


#9:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 6:28 pm


Hilda gently closed the door behind her and curled up on the couch in front of the fire, her eyes coming to rest on the crib figures shining in the cold afternoon sunlight streaming through the large windows. It was the day after her arrival, and Mother Abbess had warned her she might be late for their first long talk as she had an urgent visit to make, so Hilda was to wait in her office. Although “office” was hardly the name she would give to this lovely, panelled, peaceful room.

Her eyes feasted on the crib figures and then wandered to stare blankly into the flickering flames before her, the silence in the room only serving to augment the sadness and loneliness mushrooming inside her as Christmas drew nearer.

She rubbed her throbbing forehead. She knew part of the problem was the accident and its aftermath. She knew she had returned to school too soon. Her headaches, instead of improving, seemed to be increasing in number and intensity, as did the nightmares and those awful “flashes” during the day. They only lasted a split second, but the pictures projected onto her mind’s eye were so vivid that they made her feel sick. More and more details of that night were returning to her, none of them pleasant.

Her thoughts beginning to overwhelm her, she resolutely opened her book to keep them at bay, and was soon fathoms deep, only rousing when she felt a cold hand stroke her cheek. Looking up into loving green eyes, she felt her anchor settle a little more on the ocean floor, steadying her. She was home, safe, tethered.

The nun’s face was glowing from the cold, her eyes snapping with vitality, and she made Hilda feel suddenly feeble and very old. Mother Abbess noted once more the sad, haunted eyes, the hollows at the temples, the stiffness in the shoulders – and knew the time had come!

She held up a finger. “Five more minutes! I’m going for a pot of tea and then we talk.”

When she returned, Hilda was sitting up straight on the couch, staring once more into the flames. Mother Abbess quickly set down the tray, poured out the tea and settled close to Hilda. She eyed the book on Hilda’s knee. “What are you reading?”

Hilda looked down. Without warning, her eyes misted over as she stroked the picture on the front cover tenderly. “It’s called Le Petit Prince.” Her voice wobbled treacherously. “It’s a children’s book really, about a brave little prince. But it’s more than that – it’s about love and responsibility and friendship…..and death.”

At these words, Mother Abbess’s eyes narrowed, and focused more intently on Hilda, who swallowed to ease the tightness in her throat. All she could find was a whisper. “It’s always been one of my favourite books, but this particular copy is very special. Nell gave it to me – the day we celebrated my coming of age as Headmistress.”

She turned her head to look at the nun. “Do you remember me telling you about all the love she showed me that day?” Mother Abbess nodded but kept silent, her eyes watchful. “She wrote something so poignant in it, something that moved me beyond tears. I’ve never shown it to anyone before now, but – I think I’d like to share it with you.”

Her voice broke as she asked sorrowfully, “How did she find the words to express the inexpressible?” Opening the front cover she handed the book to the nun, who read the words written there by Nell Wilson and could only wonder yet again at this relationship:

My Hilda, as the Little Prince ‘tamed’ the fox and thus became responsible for him and learned to love him, so you ‘tamed’ me long ago with your gentleness and serenity, and made me whole.

Your integrity, compassion and courage, your deep faith in a loving God, have inspired and challenged me over the years to be more than I once thought I could be. More than that, though, they have filled me with such love for you that, as we have grown ever closer, you no longer seem a separate person, but an expansion, an interpretation, if you like, of my own self. With God, you have become the very meaning of my soul.


Tears filling her own eyes, she read again the words that said so much about the characters of these two extraordinary women. Hilda must indeed have felt annihilation when she lost Nell. No wonder she had refused to pray! How did you recover from such a blow?

 


#10:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 6:30 pm


She handed the book back, compassion in her eyes and in her sweet voice. “I can see, sweetheart, why you might find it hard to give up some of Nell’s presents. I too would never want to part with that.” She stopped and looked into the haunted eyes. “But she still feels all that, Hilda. That love has not departed. She is still your anam cara, as you are hers, even if physically she is gone.”

Hilda looked at her questioningly. “Anam cara?”

Mother Abbess nodded. “To the Irish, an anam cara is a soul friend, one who loves you and gives you companionship, wisdom and support in your pilgrimage through life. One who accepts you as you are and brings you closer to God, one who shines the light of their soul on the beloved one. As you and Nell did for each other.”

Hilda’s eyes clung to hers as she absorbed something she had never heard of before, but which gave expression to all she had shared with Nell. Mother Abbess clasped Hilda’s hand warmly as she continued, “The Irish believe that when two people become close, an ancient circle closes between them; the two souls begin to flow together. Rather like Nell’s words about you not being separate people but different expressions of the same person.”

Hilda’s lips trembled on the edge of tears, but she refused to give in to them, much to the nun’s dismay. Her voice wobbling precariously, Hilda whispered, “Two souls beginning to flow together……what a gentle, miraculous image! It used to feel like that sometimes.”

Mother Abbes smiled tenderly into the vulnerable eyes searching hers. “Truly, sweetheart, you were blessed to find each other – but even more blessed to have the strength to give to each other in every possible way, to offer each other the beauty of your spirits.”

It is a sweet thing, friendship, a dear balm,
A happy and auspicious bird of calm….
A smile among dark frowns – a gentle tone
Among rude voices, a belovèd light,
A solitude, a refuge, a delight.
(Shelley)


The mellow voice still trembled with tears yet swelled richly as it finished, and Mother Abbess listened in awe to this beautiful hymn of praise to Nell Wilson, who had been everything to Hilda - and who had left her so lost and lonely.

 


#11:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 6:35 pm


The nun let the lovely words settle into the stillness of the room, waiting for Hilda to regain some composure. When she spoke again, the nun’s voice was very quiet. “My dear child, I have heard few words that have been so expressive of the meaning of friendship. I can make a guess at how they speak to you.”

To hide the naked longing in her eyes, Hilda looked down at the book still on her knee. Mother Abbess released the hand she had been holding and tapped the book. “So tell me about this book you love so much. What’s so special about it?”

Hilda’s voice was still trembling but gained assurance as she spoke. “It’s about a dauntless little prince who made the stars laugh for a pilot who had broken down in the desert.” She heard a slight gasp from the nun at this rather outlandish statement and smiled sadly as she explained further. “He lived all alone, this little prince with the loving heart, all alone on a tiny asteroid far out in space. His only amusement was to watch sunsets – he was so lonely one day that he watched forty three.”

She opened the book and flicked the pages. “You know, when you’re feeling really sad, you like sunsets.” She sighed gently “How very true! Anyway, one day a seed blew from somewhere and a beautiful rose grew on his asteroid. He tended her and loved her but she was selfish and wilful, so he ran away because he thought she didn’t love him. How he regretted it! Elle m’embaumait et m’éclairait! Mais j’étais trop jeune pour savour l’aimer! She perfumed and lit up my life! But I was too young to know how to love her!”

Hilda stopped, tears clogging up her throat. “Nell did that for me – lit up my life,” she whispered, and the nun’s heart ached for her.

“Except, child, you weren’t too young to know how to love her.” Mother Abbess’s voice was very firm on that point, and it steadied Hilda.

“He travelled from planet to planet, searching for he knew not what, and finally arrived on Earth – to find only more loneliness. Until he met a fox, who told him: For you I am a fox like a hundred thousand foxes, but if you tame me, we’ll need each other. For me, you’ll be unique in all the world.”

“So that’s why Nell used the word tamed in her inscription,” breathed Mother Abbess in understanding.

Hilda nodded. “The fox told him: On ne voit bien qu’avec le coeur. L’essentiel est invisible aux yeux. We only really see with our hearts. What matters is invisible to the eyes. And then the fox told him: It’s the time you spent on your rose that makes her so important. You become responsible forever for those you tame.”

Hilda closed her eyes. I can’t do this, she thought. It’s far too close to home. Oh Nell…

With a start she felt the nun’s hand on hers. She spoke gently and as though reading Hilda’s mind. “Yes, you can do it, sweetheart. You were responsible for each other, poured out your love on each other, as the little prince did on his rose. Love…..friendship….responsibility…. I must read this book.”

She watched Hilda’s face closely. Time to push, time to break through, time to get Hilda to crack - and release this awful tension within her! It might cause a complete collapse, but it had to be done.

“And what about death?” she asked, softly, inexorably.

Hilda stared into the fire, lips trembling, heart beating wildly. Mother Abbess waited, and Hilda knew that this woman, this shepherd of her little flock, would wait there patiently all day if necessary, so with shaking hands she turned the pages.

“He met the airman and they became friends, and they talked and laughed, tamed each other. When the airman finally mended his plane and could now go home, the prince said that he too must return home, to his rose, for she would be lonely. But it’s a lot further…..a lot harder…..It’ll seem as if it hurts…..as if I’m dying. And the airman realises that you risk tears if you let yourself be tamed, be loved:

“I was holding him in my arms, comme un petit enfant, yet it seemed to me that he was falling vertically into an abyss and there was nothing I could do to hold him back....I could feel his heart beating like that of a wounded bird dying of gunshot wounds….”


She stopped again, her voice now very low, and Mother Abbess stayed very still. Now they were getting to the heart of it! She had to wait a long time, listening to the logs cracking and hissing in the quietness of the room, for Hilda was staring down at the picture of the little prince in the airman’s arms as though her very life depended on it. Was she remembering her dream of Nell in a foreign hospital ward, a wounded bird, dying…..?

Taking a deep breath, Hilda turned the page, swallowed and then read in a whisper, “You see, it’s too far, I can’t take this body….But it’ll be like an old, empty shell. There’s nothing sad about old, empty shells….”

Silence! Then the book fell to the floor unnoticed and the nun’s arms were round Hilda as the walls came crashing down. She buried her face in Mother Abbess’s shoulder and wept brokenly, hearing those last words over and over: …nothing sad about old, empty shells….

Oh, but there was, there was, when it was Nell’s empty shell, her loving spirit fled elsewhere, leaving Hilda’s soul alone, so alone….

 


#12:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 6:39 pm


Mother Abbess cradled Hilda tenderly and listened to the quiet heart-broken weeping with tears in her own eyes. This gentle woman really did not deserve all that had happened to her – every time she fought back with grace and fortitude, she got knocked back down again and her grief would rise up once more in all its raw and bitter agony.

The tears slowly eased and Hilda lay quiet against the nun, who let the peaceful silence of the room do its work for a while. Finally she stirred and whispered, “Hilda, child, I’m going to lay you down. You’re exhausted – I saw it in your eyes this morning.”

Moving carefully, still with one arm round Hilda to reassure her, she settled the cushions in place and lowered Hilda, who lay quietly, her eyes closed. Mother Abbess was about to move when the prone figure was overwhelmed by violent shaking, and quickly the nun rose and unearthed a blanket from one of her capacious cupboards. Tucking it gently round Hilda with a soft murmur, she settled on the couch beside her and held one cold hand, waiting.

As the shaking grew less, Hilda’s eyes opened and she gazed across the crib figures into the flames flickering behind them. Still Mother Abbess waited. There was more to come – of that she was absolutely certain!

Hilda loosened her hand and reached out to touch one of the angels with a delicate finger. The next instant the angel was grasped and held close to her, as though somehow it could help. Mother Abbess held her breath, scared to startle the distraught woman.

Slowly Hilda’s fingers opened and she stared at the exquisite figure. A broken whisper was torn from trembling lips. “Nell was my guardian angel, watching out for me, just like this one……She could make me smile or she could scold me….. but she always made my day brighter….held me so close to her heart…. But it’s all gone, Mother! All that was precious about her… all that gave light to my life.....it’s all gone! I sometimes feel like an old empty shell myself. The days are so long – and so lonely.”

The eyes that she raised lacerated the nun’s heart with their pain. The latter fell to the floor and pulled Hilda into her arms, holding her close. “No, it isn’t gone, sweetheart!” she whispered, wondering how she was going to get through this. “Nell is still your guardian angel, still watchful, still waiting to make you laugh or to scold you – because, oh boy, sometimes you do need scolding, love. She’s still giving you light – else how could you pass that light and love on to other lives as you do?”

Hilda lay absolutely still in her arms, but the nun could feel the rigidity, the tension in the thin figure. She took a deep breath – time to find the courage to speak her own feelings. Maybe, just maybe, it would ease the pain in Hilda’s heart.

“Hilda, in the hospital you told me you had come to look on me as a mother. Sweetheart, I should tell you, I now love you like the daughter I never had. You have opened up a place inside me that has been sealed for many a long year. You have given me so much in the short time I have known you. You give light and hope wherever you are, Hilda – look what you did for Ellie tonight. I can’t take your mother’s place, child, but…. if I could take this grief from you and place it in my own heart, I would.”

Suddenly the body she held began to shake again as Hilda strangled the sobs that were once more threatening to erupt. “Just cling on to me, my darling. You need some port in the storm of all that has happened. You can’t bear it all alone as you have been trying to do since the crash. Even the Lord Himself cried out in His fear of what was to come – He needed His friends with Him, He asked them to help, remember. But they fell asleep and left Him alone. I won’t do that, I promise you. None of us will.”

The body shook harder. Mother Abbess pushed again – this had to come out! This self-control of Hilda’s was doing too much damage. She spoke firmly. “Let it out, Hilda. I don’t care how much you cry. That’s what a mother’s arms are for. Just stop being so brave! It’s killing you!”

Hilda’s chest heaved against the nun as she tried yet again to control herself but she could no longer hold out. The nun’s words had crawled under the barrier, penetrated the defences and done their explosive work on that iron will. The angel fell to the floor unheeded, great sobs tore out of her and she clung convulsively to her anchor. The sobs were deep and wrenching this time and jarred her body with their violence, but Mother Abbess simply held her tighter, letting her know she was safe and secure.

This had been building since the crash, and she had let no one in, except perhaps Gwynneth a little. There had been few tears at the hospital, once the initial shock had worn off, no matter how hard she, Mother Abbess, had tried. But now that the barricades had been smashed yet again, Mother Abbess intended they should stay down this time. She would trample them underfoot so they could never be raised again. And although Hilda was so broken at the moment that healing of any kind would be slow, the nun knew her Hilda and she had one or two plans in mind!

Exhaustion finally weakened Hilda and the desperate sobbing died away to leave her trembling and helpless in the nun’s arms, all strength fled. She could fight this tenacious woman no longer. The Nell-sized hole inside her was gaping wide again at the moment, hollow with pain – but the loving strength of the nun’s character, the beauty of the nun’s words, surrounded the hole and prevented it gaping wider, giving her a moment of ease in her long loneliness.

 


#13:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 6:40 pm


Mother Abbess held her precious burden close long after the trembling had ceased, trying to infuse some of her strength into Hilda, trying to reassure her that she was loved. Hilda’s breathing grew quiet and even, and the nun felt the body in her arms soften and relax as sleep took over. And no wonder, reflected the nun sadly. The terrible weeping, the long journey yesterday, the headaches and, she suspected, the nightmares, the frailness left over from the crash and the tension of her renewed grief had all weakened her – complete collapse was still a possibility, especially after this release.

Mother Abbess loosened her arms a little, but Hilda did not stir. Laying her down gently, the nun stroked back the loosened strands of hair and looked with compassion on the ravaged face. Taking out her handkerchief, she tenderly wiped away the tears, then pulled the blanket up round the thin shoulders. She bent to pick up the book and angel, both of which had helped her break through to Hilda. She held the angel up to her face.

Is that you, Nell? Were you so desperate to help her? We need you here so much at the moment. Hilda called you her guardian angel – as I suspect she was yours. How could such a loving woman be anything else? Please watch her carefully for me. Walk beside her in this dark place, as you did though life.

She placed the angel close to Hilda so she could see it when she woke, then looked tenderly once more at the white face, a prayer in her heart. To God? To Nell? Who could say? All she knew was that Hilda needed help – and who better to give it than the two who loved her most?

 


#14:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 6:42 pm


Glancing at the clock as she rose with a sigh to her feet, Mother Abbess saw with a start that it was half past five. Where had the afternoon gone? Sitting down heavily at her desk, she sighed again and gazed unseeingly at the opposite wall for long moments, deep in thought. Reaching a decision, she shook herself, picked up the phone and asked Sister Infirmarian to join her.

The other nun was soon with her, having heard the gravity in her Superior’s voice. Mother Abbess indicated the couch and Sister Infirmarian leaned over the back to assess Hilda’s white, tear-stained face. Reaching over, she touched a gentle finger to Hilda’s neck, feeling the pulse, then turned back to Mother Abbess and they moved over to the window where the latter quietly explained.

“I’ve seen it coming since she arrived yesterday,” said the Infirmarian softly. “I’m just glad you were able to penetrate those defences of hers. That should help.”

“It took some doing, I’ll admit, but she was so wound up, it had to come out. She’s pushed herself far too hard since the crash. I know they’re all worried back at school.”

“They are right to be worried,” warned the other woman. “Her pulse, as well as her face, tells of someone at the end of her tether.”

Mother Abbess nodded. “Her grief again! She needs to be made to talk, about the crash, about her partner – but she resists me all the way. Matron and Jack Maynard both say there are still problems from the crash and she needs a period of enforced rest. Like you, they think she has reached the end of her tether.”

Sister Infirmarian raised one eyebrow in amusement. “And who’s going to enforce it?”

Mother Abbess spoke firmly. “I am - with your help!” The Infirmarian snickered softly. “But not for long. She would eat her heart out if we left her idle, so I have things in mind. I intend to….”

A cry from near the fire stopped her mid-speech. In a flash she was kneeling on the floor by the couch as Hilda tossed restlessly and began to talk brokenly. “Ian…. please, take care….it’s too windy….. slow down…. Ian…”

Her voice rose sharply on the last word, her hands gripped the blanket and her head moved from side to side, as though seeking help. Mother Abbess spoke soothingly. “It’s okay, Hilda, it’s okay. Ian’s fine. You’re both fine. Lie still and rest, sweetheart.”

Her voice and hands were tenderness itself as she covered Hilda again and stroked the white face. Hilda quietened again and the nun looked up - to see the Infirmarian watching her closely, consternation in her eyes. With another huge sigh, she rose and moved back to join the other nun in the window.

“Was that look for me - or Hilda?” she asked quietly.

“Both,” responded the Infirmarian succinctly. “You’re letting your….”

“Emotions get the better of me?” Mother Abbess nodded, and turned to look out into the dark garden. “I know. But just at the moment she needs so much help.” She paused to gather her thoughts. “She needs firmness, to over-rule that stubbornness, yes. But, dear God, Pauline, she needs love more than anything. Not admiration or respect – she has all that at school – just love, unconditional love, like she received from Nell Wilson. She needs to know it’s safe to be herself, to be the Hilda who feels broken and heart-weary, not the Miss Annersley who is always in control. She needs to know that whatever she feels, whatever she says, however crazy it sounds, there is someone who will still love her.”

“Just be careful,” warned the other nun. “If she relies on you too much….”

Mother Abbess shook her head sadly. “She won’t. She realises that herself. She withdrew from me last night when she saw what she was doing. But she told me in the hospital that she had come to look on me as a mother. She lost her own mother at such a young age, Pauline - and we never recover from that. We spend our whole lives subconsciously looking for it.”

Rubbing her eyes, Mother Abbess walked over and stood staring down at Hilda for long moments. She loved this beautiful, brave woman as she had loved no one since her own young womanhood. Somehow Hilda, with her delicacy of heart and mind, had penetrated the shell that all nuns wrapped round themselves to protect themselves, to stop themselves coming too close to another, despite their vow to give of themselves, to love all.

She knew God would not hold this love against her! Hilda was so fragile at the moment that she needed a mother’s giving, unselfish love more than she needed a Mother Superior – and Mother Abbess intended that she should have it. She also needed some bullying, but was that not what a mother’s love also provided? This all might cause problems when Hilda entered and they had to readjust their relationship, but that was another eighteen months away. They were both intelligent enough to work something out.

Sister Infirmarian waited patiently. She had great faith in her Abbess, as she now knew people at the school had great faith in Hilda. She had thought her Superior one of a kind until she had met Hilda – two women of such strength, integrity and compassion did not often come one’s way.

 


#15:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 6:46 pm


Mother Abbess readjusted the covers, walked back over to the window and looked the other nun in the eye as she said firmly, “I will do whatever it takes. Do you trust me?” The Infirmarian nodded. “And I trust Hilda. We are both intelligent enough to work out a new relationship when she enters, but I won’t let her down now.”

Even though the Infirmarian was not her deputy, they understood each other perfectly. They had entered at the same time, had worked closely together for years and they often sought advice from each other, gave each other balance. Now the Sister smiled affectionately.

“You will do whatever you want, despite all I could say. And I know you both for being strong-willed and highly intelligent. I too trust Hilda – and yes, she needs what perhaps only you can give her.” She paused and then added quietly, meaningfully, “The compassionate glance of a loved one who has already travelled the same road.”

“But not three times, Pauline,” sighed Mother Abbess. “Not three hard, bitter times. How do you survive?”

She still remembered, with a shiver, that heart-rending cry of Hilda’s in the San:

Sometimes, Mother, I think I’ll go crazy just with the need to hold her once more. Just once! Is that too much to ask?”

Ah, the human need for simple hugs – so much more important than passionate embraces! So much better at holding back the dark! But who held Hilda now? Who did she hold? God was always there – but one could not touch Him, physically feel His loving arms, and sometimes one needed so desperately the warmth of someone’s touch. Even nuns! Even Mother Abbesses!

Staring at their reflections in the dark window, she forced her thoughts back to the present and asked abruptly, “Is the inner room in the Infirmary free?”

“The one with the two beds?” asked a startled Sister Infirmarian. “Yes, but why?”

“I think Hilda should sleep there for a night or two. I’ll stay with her,” said Mother Abbess calmly.

“What?” gasped the other nun.

Mother Abbess turned to look at her. “Gwynneth told me Hilda is having nightmares, not sleeping. I saw her face this morning. I don’t think she slept a wink last night. I think there’s more to it than just nightmares, a lot more she’s not revealing, but if I’m there when she dreams I can help her, force her to speak about that crash, which she wouldn’t do in the hospital.” She tried to make the other woman understand. “She’s damming it up, Pauline, it’s poisoning her. She’s worn out. She needs….”

Suddenly, there was a sharp cry from the sleeping Hilda that almost stopped both their hearts. Again, Mother Abbess moved quickly, to find Hilda sitting bolt upright, staring into the fire, her eyes wide and frightened. “Ian….the car….It’s on fire….Ian….” She was calling loudly, desperately, sweat beading her forehead. “Ian….please… jump out before…..it explodes….get out….” Her hand reached out as though to help.

Mother Abbess took her forcefully by the shoulders. “Hilda! Look at me! There’s no fire, sweetheart. Ian is fine.” But Hilda was still staring frantically towards the hearth, the flames. Mother Abbess took Hilda’s face in her hands, forcing her eyes away from the fire and towards herself. She gentled her voice. “Hilda, child, Ian is fine, you’re fine. Wake up, love. You’re safe, here, in my arms.”

The wild fear left Hilda’s eyes and she crumpled against the nun, shuddering violently. Mother Abbess held her a few moments and then took her by the shoulders again. “Hilda, look at me,” she said sharply, urgently. “Does this happen every time you go to sleep?”

“Yes,” gasped Hilda wildly.

“Once a night, twice…?”

“Every time I fall asleep, I wake up soon after, dreaming of the crash, or of that walk – and Nell – but it’s all mixed up, frightening, and when I wake up I can’t bear to lie down in the darkness again, only for it to happen all over again – so I just leave the light on – read – pace the floor….” Her words were tripping over themselves in her efforts to explain.

“And during the day?” asked Mother Abbess, determined to get it all out. “What happens during the day? Are you getting sudden flashes of what happened? Just for a few seconds?”

“All day long,” came the wild response and Hilda buried her face in the nun’s shoulder again. Nothing could have told the nun more clearly just how much she had penetrated Hilda’s calm outer shell, for she would never normally give herself away like this.

“And why haven’t you told anyone?” queried Mother Abbess, her voice now dangerously quiet.

“Who could I tell?” whispered Hilda despairingly. “And what would have been the point?”

“The point, my very dear ninny,” said the nun forcefully, “is that Jack, or Gwynneth, could have offered you their own help or found you some professional help. Instead, your silence and sheer obstinacy have brought you near to collapse. How much longer did you think you could carry on in this way and still do your job efficiently?”

She held Hilda to her a moment or two, letting the harsh words soak in, then took her by the shoulders again with her strong hands, forcing the trembling woman to look into her implacable green eyes.

Mother Abbess spoke clearly and distinctly, as though to a rebellious infant. “Sister Infirmarian is going to bring us some dinner – which you are going to eat – and after that, you are going to talk. If I have to keep you here all night, you are going to describe to me in minute detail all you can remember of that night. And you will do the same tomorrow, and all the tomorrows after that, until we have excised this from your soul, your spirit.”

She paused and eyed Hilda speculatively, knowing that her next words would hurt. “You will place yourself under obedience to me as your Superior in this. If you don’t do so, then I will have no option but to refuse you entry here as a member of this order.”

The silence in the room vibrated with tension. Hilda’s eyes searched the obdurate face, fearfully at first, but then with dawning hope. Permission had been given – she no longer needed to be strong. This woman would be her strength. Isn’t that what mothers were for?

All at once, she nodded and great fat tears were welling up in her eyes and splashing down onto Mother Abbess’s arms. With a groan the nun pulled her close and rocked her gently, her thoughts intensely sad. Who would ever guess, among her friends back at school, that Hilda Annersley could give way like this? But oh, how necessary it was!

Sister Infirmarian merely smiled grimly to herself and went off to find the food. Mother Abbess had pulled no punches that time!

 


#16:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 6:49 pm


Mother Abbess stood over Hilda and watched as she was served the food. Sister Infirmarian had been kind and brought her just some warm soup and a soft roll. She also produced a bottle of wine and Mother Abbess poured a generous measure into the soup and said forcefully, “Eat!” which Hilda did. Her Superior had spoken. All she had to do was obey. She washed down the remnants of the roll with the wine in her glass, also a generous measure, as the nun hastily swallowed her own meal, though not the wine, this being Advent.

There was no small talk, just an expectant silence. Every so often Hilda would look across at Mother Abbess and quail at the calm certainty in those vivid eyes. Hilda was learning, late in life, how the girls in school felt at her own hands when she had laid just such obedience on them. It was not pleasant – and yet at the same time it was so reassuring. This woman wanted only that she be whole. Was that not what she, Hilda, desired for the girls in her care?

Sister Infirmarian returned with a tray of tea and took away the dirty dishes. Mother Abbess poured out two cups, ladled sugar into one with a heavy hand and passed it to Hilda. “Drink, sweetheart,” she said quietly, gentleness back for the moment in voice and eyes. She was wondering to herself, rather anxiously, how Hilda remained upright. She looked like death – her face white and taut, her eyes wells of weariness and sorrow, swollen still with weeping and underscored by deep purple smudges. Was she right to insist on this tonight? Would Hilda get through it without collapsing?

Hilda sipped the hot, sweet tea silently, gazing into the flames, her thoughts flying to a cold, dark mountain side hundreds of miles away. But Mother Abbess was having none of it. Thoughts were part of the problem, thoughts were doing the damage. Near collapse or not, now was the time! She sat on the couch by Hilda, removed the cup and saucer and spoke quietly but inexorably.

“Talk! Stop brooding and spill out all those wild thoughts of yours – I don’t care how stupid or nonsensical they sound. You’re not the Headmistress here. You don’t have to impress me or show me your courage. I already know all that. What I want are your fears, your hurts, all those things you’ve buried deep. I want the lot!”

Hilda turned her head to stare at her. She had never heard the nun talk as she had that evening. But it was helping, oh, how it was helping! It was giving her permission to be something other than a calm and collected Headmistress. She had thought that she had already laid herself bare to this woman. Now she realised she could go down another layer, she could open up as she had only ever opened up to Nell – open up and not be found wanting. Unconditional love – so rare, so life-giving!

Mother Abbess held the blue-grey eyes with her own steadfast green ones, and asked quietly, “Let me start you off. What did you feel as that car went over the edge? Ian has told me that he heard not one single cry of fear.”

Hilda turned away to look into the fire. Abruptly, she put up her hands and pulled the pins out of her hair, letting it tumble free. Thrusting the pins into the astonished nun’s hands, she buried her face in her hands, her hair falling forward to hide her. Still those walls, thought Mother Abbess wryly.

Hilda’s first words, when they finally came, startled the nun, though a moment’s reflection made her realise how silly that was. Hilda’s trust in God was absolute! “Safe,” whispered Hilda. “I felt safe. I knew Ian and I were held in those everlasting arms, that whether we lived or died, we were safe.” She raised her head and when she looked at the nun the latter saw the truth in her eyes. “All I was worried about was you.” Mother Abbess’s eyes widened. “I knew what it would do to you if Ian was killed.”

“And you! If you had been killed….” The nun’s lips formed the words but there was no sound. Her eyes told Hilda what her lips were trying to say. Hilda just shook her head but her eyes were still locked on to the nun’s.

“I didn’t want to die to be with Nell – not at that point!” she added, her throat suddenly dry as she thought of her feelings later on when she felt Nell near her. “I just wanted Ian to be safe for you. And for some reason I thought of all the problems it would cause at school if I was killed outright.”

“It was strange,” she said slowly, after a long pause. “I did cry out, despite what Ian says. As we tipped over that edge I panicked! And then, the car was hurtling down that hill at breakneck speed, we were jolting all over the place, and suddenly I felt….I felt as though there was all the time in the world, time for my thoughts, time to tell God that I accepted whatever His will was in this, time to tell him to take care of you and the school, time to be aware of every tree that passed…..”

Mother Abbess was stunned. Surely God walked closely hand-in-hand with this fearless woman! Her own feelings of terror the day Hilda was shot and the calmness Hilda herself had shown, still had not prepared the nun for this measure of trust. Yet again she thought how little she measured up to this new daughter of hers. No wonder Hilda was able to hide her devastating grief so well from people, no wonder she was able to smile when her heart was breaking. So why the terrible nightmares?

 


#17:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 6:53 pm


Hilda turned away from the nun and looked into the fire once more. “What I don’t understand is why I should keep seeing that tree, why the dreams are so violent. I had no time for fear in that car – and yet now I wake up terrified time after time.”

“I have no answers, sweetheart,” said Mother Abbess quietly, laying a gentling hand on Hilda’s stiff shoulders. “Maybe you subconsciously keep thinking of what might have happened, even if you weren’t frightened at the time. Maybe what occurred afterwards on that road is causing it all. Although you were in such a state it’s a wonder you remember any of it. Are you really so frightened in your dreams?”

“Petrified!” whispered Hilda and buried her face again. “So many nasty things happen to Ian that I’m shouting out Help us! over and over again, and I wake up to find myself crying it out loud. The wonder is that no one hears me! I’m screaming at God, raging at Ian…oh, a hundred things that I never felt at the time – and don’t feel now when I’m awake.”

Mother Abbess spoke feelingly. “My dear, no one knows why the nightmares after such a shock, such a terrifying experience. I’m no Joseph, to interpret dreams, but I suspect a lot of it is your renewed grief for Nell….” She stopped mid-sentence as she felt Hilda’s body flinch as though she had been struck. The nun leaned forward, her hand moving to clasp Hilda more firmly round the shoulders. “Hilda? Whatever it is, spill it out.”

Hilda’s face stayed buried, a tremor ran through her body and then, her breath catching on a sob, she spoke haltingly. “Whenever my mind returns to that moment of panic…..I think of Nell…. in the earthquake….” She ran down and silence fell. The nun waited anxiously. “As the walls fell….did she panic, like me? Did she regret….going back in? Did time slow down for her too…. giving her time to feel each of those concrete blocks thudding down on her, crushing…”

She stopped, her hands writhing through her hair as though she were in agony. Then a whisper came. “Did she feel lonely? I keep wondering why she had to die so far away…. I should have been there to help her…..”

The nun was silenced. She had asked for everything – and she was getting it. In spades! This accident had done more damage than she had thought. It was no wonder Hilda was hurting. She drew Hilda close, trying to still the tremors that were coursing through her body.

“And you feel guilt all over again. You lost that a while back, but your own accident has caused it to raise its ugly head again. Oh, my poor child…” She had to pause, for her own voice was wobbling too much. She stroked Hilda’s loose hair gently while she gathered her thoughts. “Maybe, just maybe, love, your subconscious is afraid to let you feel anger at God for the manner of Nell’s death, so it is being expressed in your dreams through this accident. You’re an expert at suppressing things, dear – none better! - and in the long run it does no good. It has to come out somewhere.”

Hilda raised her head to gaze at her wildly. Abruptly, she tore herself from the nun’s loving arm, stood on trembling legs and walked over to the window. She leaned her head against the cold pane of glass and closed her eyes. When she spoke again, her voice had sunk even lower, and Mother Abbess had to strain to hear. “But I don’t feel any anger at God, He didn’t cause the earthquake. I don’t think I even feel guilt any more. You scotched that for me. The questions just go round and round – meaninglessly. All I really feel, when I’m awake, is numbness, an empty ache, a vacuum, loneliness….”

Her voice trailed away and the silence of the room was intensified by the ticking of the large grandfather clock and the hiss and crackle of the fire. Trauma, physical pain, exhaustion, diagnosed the nun quietly to herself. No wonder she feels numb, empty!

Long moments passed and neither woman moved. Hilda lifted her head, stared out blankly into the darkness, then turned slowly as though every bone in her body hurt. Her eyes were filled with a harrowing, haunting sorrow. “Is that why Nell keeps trying to drag me off the road?” she whispered, her hand trying to ease the ache in her throat. “Is that why she keeps telling me to give up, that I’ll never make it? Is it due to my fears of what she went through? Or is it my loneliness talking?”

She stopped and swallowed several times. “Every night she tells me it would be better to go with her and then we can be together for always, that she misses me and wants me near. She keeps trying to drag me off the road, and she’s so strong I can’t fight her. She tells me to leave Ian to his fate, that he will die anyway, whatever I do. I know it’s nonsense, but in the middle of the night it’s so jumbled up that all I can think is that she wants me to leave Ian on his own because she was on her own…”

Mother Abbess felt such a pang in her heart she wondered it kept beating. How did Hilda survive this in her fragile state? How did she get through the nights? Unable to move, she waited for more, watching Hilda’s despairing face.

“She’s killing me, Mother. On that hillside that night she was helping me, encouraging me to keep going and get help, telling me that Ian needed me. In my other dreams, earlier, before the crash, she encouraged me to live, to grow…. told me I still had work to do. But now…..now, she’s killing me slowly, by degrees, and night after night the emptiness grows, the loneliness gets worse……because I’ve lost Nell, my Nell….this one isn’t the Nell I love.”

Hilda had been staring at Mother Abbess as she spoke and now, without warning, her face crumpled and she held out a trembling hand to the nun for help. In an instant, the loving arms were enfolding her. Hilda held herself rigid a moment longer, and then her body finally collapsed. Coldness swept over her, her knees gave way and she would have fallen but for the nun’s strength. She had reached the end of that tether mentioned by Sister Infirmarian.

Mother Abbess lowered the body in her arms gently to the floor, then quickly moved to her desk and rang her handbell. Sister Infirmarian would not have gone far, was probably outside keeping intruders at bay! The nun threw the bell down and dropped to the floor beside the still figure, to find Hilda’s eyes watching her….

 


#18:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 6:57 pm


With a start she realised that the look in those eyes was one of shame. “It’s alright, sweetheart,” she whispered, stroking Hilda’s hair. “Please don’t feel guilty. It’s just that you’ve forced that body of yours beyond its limits these last weeks. Once you relaxed your guard, it just let go. It needs rest, love, what with headaches, no sleep, nightmares, those horrible flashbacks, the lingering shock of the accident – and all this emotion, this weeping tonight. So just lie still and try to relax.”

Hilda, however, struggled to sit up, even though her limbs seemed not to belong to her. “No, I’ll be okay. If you’ll just….”

“Do as you’re told, Hilda!” came the firm voice of Sister Infirmarian, who had entered silently and was now bending over the two on the floor. “Were you not put under obedience? Mother and I will do the work. Let your body go limp and we’ll carry you over to the couch.”

Between them they lifted Hilda and settled her back on the couch, tucking the blanket round her. Sister Infirmarian’s fingers found her pulse while Mother Abbess threw another log on the fire. Hilda was silenced by the combined weight of these two women’s strong wills. Too weak to fight, bones dissolving like water, head throbbing painfully, she lay biddable.

Glancing up at the other nun, who shook her head warningly, Mother Abbess sat on the couch and took a cold hand in her warm one. She smiled into Hilda’s still eyes. “I know this is a shock to you, love, but you mustn’t feel ashamed for collapsing like that. It needed to happen, you needed to learn a lesson about just how far you can push this body of yours. It’s humiliating, isn’t it, to find out just how weak you are?”

She smiled lovingly, but there was no answering smile. She could take a good guess at what this strong-minded, stubborn woman must be feeling. “You ought to be in bed, for I suspect, apart from anything else, that your head is aching abominably. There’ll be no more talking for now, despite what I said earlier. Your body is taking its revenge for the treatment you’ve meted out to it, I’m afraid, and needs quiet.”

There was still no response at all from Hilda. Her eyes were watchful, her body absolutely immobile, her white face almost blank. “Sister here is going to take you off to the Infirmary for a couple of nights, so she can keep an eye on you, and I think you should go right now….”

She stopped, appalled, as wild panic flared in Hilda’s eyes. “Hilda, what is it, love?” But even as she asked the anxious question, the self-control was back in place, the eyes were closed, the emotions hidden. Mother Abbess considered the white mask, and immediately her own perceptive nature picked up the problem. She could have kicked herself for being so stupid.

“Hilda, look at me,” she said in a soft voice. Hilda’s eyes opened – the panic was gone. Wariness had taken its place. Sister Infirmarian moved away. It was not her place to intrude here between two souls who understood each other so well. Mother Abbess was perfectly capable of working her magic on her own.

Mother Abbess softened her voice even more and stroked the white cheek. “My darling, I’m so sorry. That was insensitive of me. You’re frightened of being left in the dark on your own. Now that you’ve told me, brought it all to the surface, it’s looming even larger, isn’t it?” Hilda’s mouth relaxed a little but she remained silent. “I was going to add that I will be sleeping with you in the Infirmary. And we’ll fight these demons together. But that’s for later and it’s right now that’s worrying you, isn’t it?”

Mother Abbess sat in thought a moment. “How would it be if you rested quietly here until I go to bed?” The white face relaxed some more, and began to look ashamed, but the nun quashed that emotion instantly. “Don’t you dare, young lady! I know it’s not like you to show your fear – but I need to know what you are thinking and feeling if I am to help you. After all, isn’t that why you are here? But there is nothing, nothing, of which to be ashamed. Are you hearing me, Hilda? Nothing at all! Your fear is perfectly normal.”

A tear found its way down Hilda’s cheek as she stared at this woman who cared so much. Mother Abbess caught it with a tender finger. “Oh love, you can’t be strong all the time. Let us in, let us help,” she said gently. “Stay there for now – sleep if you can. I have some work still to do before I can retire, so I’ll be close if you should need me, if you’re afraid. Will that help?”

“I’m so sorry,” Hilda whispered, her voice hardly to be heard. Mother Abbess made no reply, other than to lean forward and kiss the damp cheek. She then tucked the blanket more securely round Hilda and sat watching the white face, the bleak eyes.

Sister Infirmarian nodded, satisfied, and glided from the room to prepare the beds and move Hilda’s night things. Mother Abbess was doing exactly what was needed. To have got through so soon was remarkable, given Hilda’s nature, but then her collapse had been imminent from the moment she walked in the door. Now just get her talking more about the accident….

Mother Abbess herself was astonished she had got through so soon. But then Hilda had not anticipated that her future Superior could be so tough! She had so desperately needed the release, but the implosion had been greater than either of them had anticipated. The nun picked up the angel she had set down a little earlier, and placed it in Hilda’s hand, wrapping her cold fingers round it.

“Let Nell help you,” she said softly, her eyes holding Hilda’s. “Your Nell wasn’t - isn’t - in those nightmares. You know she would never do anything to hurt you. Remember what she told you in those other dreams – it’s not your time yet, you still have work to do and she will help you. She is like that angel, watchful, loving, longing to heal your emptiness, your loneliness. Hang on to her, love, she’s strong – just as you are, or will be again.”

Hilda opened her hand and stared at the beautiful carving with its tender, tranquil face. She stroked the wings, the hair, and murmured almost to herself, “When I was very tiny, my mother used to tell me that we all have angels in Heaven who are constantly sending us messages, little love notes, and that if we listen carefully, especially at Christmas, we will hear them whispering to, Merry Christmas, dear one……I love you with all my heart. The trick, she said, is to listen and believe.”

“Not only your angels, sweetheart,” whispered Mother Abbess tremulously. “Your mother, Nell, God Himself – they’re all sending you messages of love, not only at Christmas, but constantly, every day. You must believe that. You do believe that, in your heart of hearts, I know.”

She was moved beyond measure. She had truly broken Hilda wide open, for this revelation came from a deeply hidden inner sanctum. Never before had Hilda volunteered anything, anything at all, about her mother. It was all held within, treasured, too precious to be shown the light of day. Hilda had just offered her another Christmas gift, a gift beyond price…...

 


#19:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 7:01 pm


“No! Ian! Oh, noooo….” A wail of such agony rang through the room that Mother Abbess was out of bed and holding Hilda while still only half-awake. This was the third time since coming to bed that Hilda had woken her and each time seemed to get worse, her fear more acute, the images more horrifying. She glanced at the clock and saw it was five o’clock – the low time of the night, the time when people’s lives ebbed quietly away.

She cradled Hilda and her friend clung to her and shook violently. “Tell me, Hilda. Don’t hold it in!” she said sharply. Hilda’s head shook but Mother Abbess was having none of it. “Yes! Now! Spit it out. What happened? What did you see?”

“Ian….was lying beside the car…” Hilda was sobbing, her breath catching. “There was a huge piece of glass right through his chest….he was looking at me, begging me to help….but I couldn’t…I just stood there.”

“Good girl, good girl,” said the nun encouragingly. “Was he bleeding much? What did he say?”

“There was blood everywhere,” and Hilda clung harder to the nun as she tried to force the words out through a clogged up throat. “It was all over the car….over the grass…. over Ian….even over me….it wouldn’t stop…it kept spraying into my face…. I didn’t know a body could hold so much blood.”

She stopped and sobbed, seeing again in full colour that nightmare scene, feeling the warm blood on her face. Mother Abbess held the shuddering body closer but persisted, speaking harshly. “And Ian? What about Ian?”

“He just lay there looking up at me….his eyes….they were pleading with me to help him…..but I couldn’t move….. it was like…..like I was nailed to the ground….”


“And Nell? Was she there too?” asked Mother Abbess, and knew she had guessed correctly by the shudder that ran through her the body she was holding. “Answer me, Hilda,” she insisted, her voice still harsh and commanding.

Hilda’s gasped. “She was standing…..the other side of Ian.. .. and she was….laughing!” She stopped, appalled. “And there was blood on her hands….as though….”

“As though it was she who had stabbed him with that glass,” finished Mother Abbess. Hilda shuddered again and tried to creep further into the nun’s arms, aware of nothing but the awful terror that had taken hold.

Mother Abbess, however, had other ideas. Forcing down her pity, she took her by the shoulders and forced Hilda to look at her. “Hilda, wake up! It’s over.” She spoke urgently, trying to burrow through the darkness. “You know that’s not what happened. Ian is alive and fit and well. You saved his life, remember – at great cost to your own. This is guilt, sweetheart, nothing but guilt.”

“W..what do you mean?” asked Hilda, her jaws clenched to stop her teeth chattering. Her tear-drenched eyes were locked fearfully onto the nun’s.

“I think you do feel guilty about Nell still – guilty that you weren’t there for her - even though you know that’s ridiculous. But even worse than that, you feel guilty over Ian. On that lonely trek in the dark, you collapsed – no surprise there. You were too weak to get up again – no surprise there either.”

Hilda opened her mouth to speak but the nun shook her again. “No, Hilda, listen!” she said fiercely. “You were so severely injured, the wonder is that you could walk at all, never mind for a couple of hours on a freezing cold mountainside. Of course you gave in – who wouldn’t have? And of course you didn’t think of Ian as you lay there. You were too far gone. But you feel guilty about that – you’ve never stopped feeling guilty, despite what I said in the hospital. Hilda Annersley thought of no one but herself – and that’s killing you!”

At the harsh words, the body she held went still. Hilda’s eyes lost their fear and doubt crept in. She forced her jaw to relax and tried to move, but the strong arms held her firmly, the green eyes forcing her to think. “You’re right.” She spoke in a quiet murmur, her lips betraying her treacherously. “I didn’t give one thought to Ian as I lay there – and yes, it’s killing me. I may never forgive myself, no matter what you try to say. I know I’m a disappointment to you, Mother, but to leave someone to die, when I could have saved him…”

She closed her eyes. She could no longer face those other clear steady green ones. They were asking too much of her.

Mother Abbess hated herself. How could you expect a woman with such love for others, a woman who placed such fierce demands on herself, to forgive her own denial of another’s needs? She looked at the tear-stained, humble face and crumbled.

Pulling the pliant body close, she nestled Hilda’s head on her shoulder. “You could never be a disappointment to me, my darling,” she whispered, her own eyes closed. “I’m just trying to make you see that a lot of these nightmares are your own guilt coming out, guilt for which there is no need. You didn’t abandon Nell, you didn’t abandon Ian – your own indomitable will….”

The head on her shoulders moved. A whisper floated up. “Nell…”

Mother Abbess’s voice was implacable. “Your own indomitable will got you back on your feet. Not Nell, you! Oh, Nell might have been your inspiration, but it was you who saw it through to the bitter end – and so very nearly lost your life in the process. They still have no idea what made you decide to live that night. But, knowing you as I do?” She paused and gave a harsh bark of laughter. “Will power and obstinacy, pure and simple! Even death wasn’t strong enough to hold out against that stubborn will of yours.”

She waited, but Hilda remained silent. When Mother Abbess spoke again, her voice was the loving but chiding voice of a benevolent despot. “Sweetheart, these guilts must go, like all the other guilts we’ve managed to demolish. Then maybe these awful dreams will lose their power.”

Moving gently, she laid Hilda back on the pillows, smoothed the brown hair back from the white face, kissed her on the nose, and handed her a handkerchief. “Reflect on all that while I go and get us some tea. I think we’ve earned it.” She smiled grimly as she saw Hilda’s face relax a little, and added pitilessly, “And then you’re going to continue to place yourself under obedience to me and tell me some more about that long walk. I want it all, every single detail, so we can get rid of it for you.”

She was grieved at the huge violet shadows under the blue-grey eyes, the pain and confusion filling those same eyes. She had so longed to see there the joy that Ian and Nancy had told her about. She only hoped she would look back on all this later and see how or why God thought it necessary to allow it all. Had Hilda needed to be shot as well as bereaved, almost killed in a car crash as well as shot? All in the space of seven months?

And what about the emotional traumas, Lord? Ian’s unwanted love, an unhappy school mistress, a jealous deputy? Couldn’t you have averted some of them? You’re toying with her, to the point of destruction, like a cat with a mouse. These nightmares are the final grim touch, turning Nell into her tormentor. Please, please, give her some breathing space.

 


#20:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 7:04 pm


Hilda had indeed placed herself under obedience to Mother Abbess and poured it all out in fits and starts – every time she dried up the nun applied more pressure. Not once had Hilda thought of refusing, and the nun knew it was having some effect. By the time the first bell rang for the nuns to go to chapel Hilda was deeply asleep, empty and drained, totally depleted, but with some of the tension gone from her gaunt face.

She slept soundly for most of the day, only her second full day at the convent. She roused at lunchtime to drink the soup spooned into her by Sister Infirmarian, and was then tucked in again afterwards as though she were a child. No nightmares disturbed her, except once when she mewed softly in her sleep and was soothed back into quietness by the nursing Sister, who was pleased to see some of the lines in the sensitive face relax. She was disturbed, though, at the way Hilda, even in sleep, clung to her hand every time she took her pulse.

Mother Abbess finally found time to return after the evening meal. It had been a long, long day on top of a sleepless night. Sister Infirmarian met her outside the door and was her usual blunt self! “You look weary! I’d like to think Hilda won’t notice, but I think that’s a forlorn hope.”

Mother Abbess grimaced and eased knotted shoulders. “How is she?”

“Your treatment seems to be working. She’s slept well and looks marginally better. No good expecting miracles. She has a lot to make up – she’s exhausted in body and spirit. You’re going to have to be very strict with her, demand that she eat and sleep, rest and recuperate. Those headaches aren’t going to disappear overnight – or the nightmares.”

“So all in all, the trend is upwards!” remarked Mother Abbess, the irony in her voice heavy. Then she smiled. “Thank you, Pauline, for watching her for me. Don’t worry – there’ll be no let-up. I know that iron will by now!”

She slipped quietly into the room to find Hilda, hair neatly braided, reclining against a bank of pillows, her face matching them for whiteness. She was reading peacefully. Nell’s book again, noted Mother Abbess, as she sat on the bed. “Let me look at you, daughter.” She searched Hilda’s face, realising without surprise that Hilda was doing the same to her. She saw the sudden worry and cupped the white face in warm hands. “Oh no, you don’t. I want no more guilt.”

“But you look exhausted. I kept you awake all night and you’ve obviously had a hard day,” Hilda countered softly, anxiously, and the nun remembered Sister Infirmarian’s words. Nothing got past Hilda!

“I’m fine, child,” said Mother Abbess firmly. “I’m your counsellor. It’s what I expect to do – as you will do in your turn in years to come. As you do yourself at school for your girls – or your staff, knowing you. There’s no difference.” Hilda acknowledged the hit and subsided meekly.

Well, that was a first, smiled the nun inwardly, and continued to scrutinise the face cupped in her hands. “You look so much better already. Those dark shadows are fading a fraction and the lines are going. But it’s your eyes, child, that tell me most. They have looked so haunted since you arrived but I can see a little light in them at long last.”

Hilda put up a hand to clutch one of those loving ones holding her face. “You have done me so much good. I came here desperately needing your help, as I did once before. I couldn’t get here fast enough two days ago,” she whispered. “But I made it so hard for you, didn’t I?” Her look was one of pleading, asking for forgiveness.

Mother Abbess loosened her hands and took Hilda’s outstretched one. Her face wore a wry grin as she spoke. “I suspect you will always make it hard for me, child. You are so determined that you must not show your emotions, so determined to be independent. And you’ve come so late to the religious life….”

“But I learned an important lesson, Mother,” said Hilda softly, her eyes serious in her attempt to make this woman understand that she might have come late to the religious life but she learned fast. “I found that in simple obedience lies freedom. Freedom to be myself; freedom to lay bare my inner workings, the good and the ugly; freedom to be fully known, fully revealed and yet not be judged…. I found – what? In simple obedience I found healing, and will go on finding it, because you now know what to do for me, how to give me space to breathe.”

Mother Abbess was silenced. In simple obedience lies freedom. It took some religious years to learn that. Some never really learned it, never made it part of their interior life. They were so afraid that obedience meant conformity, meant going against their own nature. In that moment, she knew with utter certainty that what she had planned for Hilda, as she sat by her hospital bed, was right. The order could not afford to squander all that Hilda was. For this wise and tender woman would always go straight to the heart of the matter, would see what needed to be seen and do what needed to be done. She needed no further training, except to enable her to go deeper still.

Even as she was recovering from this shock, Hilda surprised her again. “Every time I have opened up to you this year you have brought me closer to some kind of peace and joy. I must be obedient to you because you love me, want me to be whole, want to get rid of all that spoils the person God created me to be. I must be defenceless before you, make myself vulnerable to you, because you represent God – and God loves me so much, even more then you do, and knows me through and through anyway, so why hide?” Her smile was beguiling as she added shyly, “What security there is in that! You will not find me so unbiddable ever again.”

“Hilda, you never cease to amaze me,” whispered Mother Abbess as she gazed in awe at her new daughter. “Just when I begin to think I know you, you reveal new depths, and take me there with you. Where do you find such wisdom?”

But she knew. Hilda was so good at the sub-texts. She listened with heart and mind wide open. And walked with God, even in her brokenness….

Hilda smiled tenderly. “Nell taught me so lovingly – sometimes she lost her temper, yes, but usually I needed it! And you have just carried on the process. You rescued me time and time again this year – and I wouldn’t listen. But you have got through. I’m listening now.”

“It wasn’t me, love,” said Mother Abbess quietly. “Certainly not in the San, and not this time. It was the community - I was only the medium. They have been praying for you constantly from the moment we heard about the crash. Every moment of the day or night there has been someone in front of the altar for you.”

Hilda’s eyes were out on stalks as the nun continued, “We pray for all our guests, but you are one of us and when I saw how ill you looked when you arrived, and again yesterday, I asked for more prayers. It was the Sisters’ combined strength that did it – you stood no chance at all, love.” She grinned at Hilda’s stupefaction.

“But we’re not finished yet,” she said firmly. “You are still far from well so you will put yourself under obedience to Sister Infirmarian where your health is concerned, until I say otherwise. Your nightmares haven’t gone away yet – it’s not that easy - so we go on talking.” She saw, with a secret grin, that Hilda was well and truly silenced by this laying down of the law. “Have you had any flashbacks since you woke up this afternoon?” she asked abruptly.

Hilda nodded. It never even occurred to her to hide anything, as she had been doing. “And your head still aches.” It was not a question and Hilda nodded again. “So you sleep here again tonight,” ordered the nun.

”But, Mother, you look so tired,” argued Hilda anxiously. “You got no sleep last night, thanks to me, and you’ve worked all day. Let me sleep in my own room tonight and…..”

“I thought you said you were going to be biddable,” remarked Mother Abbess softly, but with a steely glint in her eye. Hilda bit her lip, but still looked anxious. “You will sleep here tonight, as will I, so we can fight these nightmares. That’s what mothers are for – to lighten the darkness. I am not having you coming to my convent and being too scared to go to sleep.”

She stared at Hilda fiercely, expecting her to laugh, but instead hot tears splashed down her cheeks. So many tears she seemed to have inside her at the moment.

“Hilda?” questioned Mother Abbess, alarmed. Reaching over she pulled her up and into her arms. Had she been too harsh?

“Such love,” Hilda whispered through her tears. “I didn’t think I would ever find such love again in this life.”

Mother Abbess held her tighter. “Oh Hilda, daughter, we all love you so much, and we will try so hard never to let you down or leave you lonely,” she whispered in her turn, letting the tears flow for a while as she prayed, for she felt they were healing tears.

 


#21:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 7:06 pm


Then she said softly, “Hilda, sweetheart, when you are ready – I want to tell you a story.”

“About Ellie?” asked Hilda, withdrawing from the loving arms and rubbing away the tears. Without answer, Mother Abbess went next door to the little bathroom, returning with a flannel and towel. She washed Hilda’s face tenderly, plumped up her pillows, fetched her a glass of water, and then dropped into the chair by the bed, eyeing Hilda with concern.

“Are you sure your head is up to this?” Hilda was very white now, the shadows still dark round the weary eyes. But Hilda smiled and held out her hand, which the nun clasped firmly. “I’ve slept all day – I’m in the running for the title of Rip Van Winkle of the Year.” Her smile faded. “Tell me Ellie’s story – she looks so sad it’s unbearable.”

Just like you, my dear, thought Mother Abbess to herself with a pang. “Ellie’s mother died when she was only four,” she began baldly, and saw Hilda flinch. “Her mother, Marie-Claire, was French, from Orléans. She met Edward, her husband, while studying in London. After she got her degree, she went back home to prepare for their wedding, wondering how she could bear to give up her own country.”

“Was Edward Sister Patricia’s brother?” asked Hilda, her eyes intent.

Mother Abbess raised her eyebrows in astonishment. How had Hilda worked that out? She nodded. “Yes, she it was who told me the story. Apparently she grew very fond of Marie-Claire, who in the end didn’t have to leave her country. As a wedding present Edward told her he was going to open up a branch of his business in the South of France, near Nice, and they were going to live there. Ellie was born a year later, and by all accounts they were a very happy little family.”

“But then Marie-Claire died,” stated Hilda.

“In childbirth, when Ellie was four, as I said.” She watched Hilda’s eyes darken. “Edward was shattered, and shut himself off from Ellie, for she is apparently the image of her mother.”

“Poor little girl,” whispered Hilda, and Mother Abbess reached out to clasp her hand, making a guess at the memories being revived.

“Ellie was brought up by a succession of housekeepers, who never stayed long. Fortunately for her, Marie-Claire’s parents had moved to be near the little family and were able to help, or it would have been a very bleak life for the girl. Edward immersed himself in his business, showered her with expensive gifts, and spent most of his time away from home. I’m surprised he stayed in France actually.”

“Were his own parents alive?” Mother Abbess shook her head. “Then perhaps he could at least appreciate that she needed her grandparents to give her some of the love he himself found so hard to give her, la pauvre.” Hilda’s lovely voice was very soft as she spoke.

“You could be right, sweetheart,” replied Mother Abbess with a smile. “You have a sure instinct for these things. Unfortunately, when Ellie was eleven her grandmother died, and Edward decided that boarding school was the only answer.” Hilda shook her head, her eyes filled with compassion for this unwanted little girl. Sometimes she despaired of parents.

“Sister Patricia wondered if he would send her to England, so she herself could keep an eye on her, but he chose a school in Rheims in the north of France, where a friend of Ellie’s had gone. Surprisingly she settled in well and has seemed happy there. Though whenever she has visited her aunt here I’ve noticed an aura of….not sadness exactly, but….searching might be a good word.”

“Searching for her father’s love?” asked Hilda softly. “Or her mother’s?”

“Would she remember her mother?” asked Mother Abbess in surprise. “She was only four, after all. And she never mentions her.”

“A gentle voice singing lullabies – soft arms cuddling her – a sweet fragrance in the air…..” breathed Hilda, her eyes faraway. “Who’s to say, Mother? Somewhere hidden inside her there are wisps of memories….they never go away.”

Mother Abbess sat quietly, allowing Hilda the chance to indulge in her own memories, thinking of the one she had revealed the night before. “I’m sorry, Mother,” Hilda sighed, returning to reality. “That was unforgivable of me.”

“Hilda, don’t ever apologise for remembering your mother,” said the nun quietly. “I would love to have met her. She must have been a wonderful woman, for she has a magical daughter.”

 


#22:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 7:08 pm


Hilda’s hand turned to clasp the nun’s in gratitude for her words. “So how old is Ellie now exactly? And what is her full name? And which language does she speak anyway?”

“She’s really Eleanor Claire Drake, and she’s bi-lingual, though speaks with an accent and prefers French. She’s sixteen, nearly seventeen and is in the Sixth form – or was,” she added sadly.

“Her father died,” stated Hilda bluntly, beginning to see where this was going.

Mother Abbess nodded. “Yes, but it’s not quite as simple as it sounds. Edward was in Paris on business – and he fell down the stairs in the underground, apparently in such a rush, according to witnesses, that he slipped. He broke his neck and was killed instantly.”

“Oh, the poor child,” breathed Hilda sorrowfully, knowing in all its hideous reality what it was like to be so suddenly bereft.

“As I said, it’s not that simple. When his lawyers went to sort out his affairs – they found a total mess. He’d been borrowing heavily as his business was in trouble, but no one knew, certainly not his lawyers or business colleagues. The upshot is - there’s no money. He owed thousands, apparently, and there’s no one to repay it. Ellie’s grandfather died two years ago and, anyway, he didn’t have that sort of money.”

“So the poor child is left all alone with no money – and no home?” Hilda queried, horror in her eyes.

“No,” sighed Mother Abbess. “It also means no school, as there is no money to cover the fees. She’s been here several weeks as she was too upset to finish the term.”

“So the poor girl has lost everything, even her friends,” whispered Hilda. She sat up and leaned forward. “Is there anything I can do, anything at all?” she asked urgently.

Mother Abbess was silenced yet again by Hilda, whose first instinct was always to give, no matter what the cost. Out of a loving heart, she was offering something the nun had been going to ask of her. Ellie had been one of her plans for Hilda. “Do you really mean that?” she asked guardedly.

“Of course!” answered a startled Hilda. “Anything.”

Mother Abbess stood up and came to sit close to Hilda. When she spoke her sweet voice was very appealing. “I have to be honest, love. I thought of you as soon as Ellie arrived. I knew you were coming for Christmas and I knew you were the one to help. But then you had the crash and you haven’t been well and are so sad and tired…”

“Doesn’t matter!” Hilda shook her head vehemently and took hold of the nun’s hands, asking simply, “How can I help?”

“By becoming her counsellor.”

The four words dropped into the sudden silence as a thunderstruck Hilda gasped and stared. The silence stretched. Hilda looked as she felt – aghast!

“But I’m not a nun yet. I’ve had no training,” she said blankly.

Mother Abbess, in her turn, grasped Hilda’s hands. “Think, child! Who else is there? You don’t need any training. You’ve been guiding girls like Ellie with wisdom aplenty since your early thirties when you became Head – before that as well, I’m quite sure. Ellie could have no one better, dear girl.” She paused and said softly, as though clinching the deal, “And you know what it is to lose a parent.”

Hilda was silenced again. She knew in her heart of hearts that the nun was right. Already she ached for this child, longed to help her. There was no false modesty about Hilda – she knew it was a task made for her. But supposing her own grief should suddenly swamp her?

Mother Abbess as usual read her mind. “If tears come, let them come. It can do Ellie – and you – nothing but good. I could almost say you need each other.”

“What about Sister Patricia – and the others?” Hilda’s eyes were anxious.

“You will be treading on no one’s toes, sweetheart. They will all guess why I asked you. As for Sister Patricia – I’ll let you into a little secret. She told me that if I didn’t ask you to help, she would ask you herself. My nuns love and trust you, Hilda.” She added the last sentence forcefully then paused and watched Hilda’s face as the shock faded. “Will you do it child? I can trust it to no one else.”

The nun’s voice was soft and Hilda’s was equally soft as she replied. “Yes, Mother, for you – and for Ellie. But please, pray for us both.”

Mother Abbess smiled at her gratefully. “Unceasingly! Bless you, daughter. I know Ellie will be safe in your hands – and you are both safe in God’s hands.” She stood up. “And now, that’s enough for one night, I think. You’re exhausted – and I’ll admit I am as well - so it’s bed for both of us, right now.”

Hilda obediently snuggled down and the nun tucked her in. She was stroking Hilda’s hair, gratitude in her heart, when there was a loud rap at the door. Before she could move, the door opened and Sister Infirmarian stood there, panting heavily.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Mother, but it’s Ellie – she’s disappeared….”

 


#23:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 7:10 pm


“What?” gasped Mother Abbess, straightening up and moving towards the door. “Explain!” she ordered peremptorily. Hilda sat up, fear in her heart, listening intently. How often had she heard those words in her years as Head? She knew all about the fear that would clutch everyone’s hearts.

Sister Infirmarian remained unmoving in the doorway, her face strained. “Apparently, Sister Patricia went to Ellie’s room a short while ago, as she hadn’t seen her at all since dinner – but there was no sign of her. And her coat’s gone!”

“Have you searched for her at all?” asked Mother Abbess, her voice calm, her face impassive.

The other nun nodded. “We’ve tried all the usual places, including the garden.”

“Then I suggest you try the unusual,” said Mother Abbess succinctly, her foot tapping unconsciously as she thought hard. “Tell everyone to meet in my office in fifteen minutes. We’ll decide what to do then if there is still no sign of her.”

Sister Infirmarian sped off and Mother Abbess turned to Hilda. “I’ll see you later, love, if Ellie is found. If not….” She shrugged her shoulders and Hilda, an adept at reading faces, saw the fear the nun was trying to hide.

“Let me get up and help,” pleaded Hilda, desperate to do something to ease her friend’s anxiety.

Mother Abbess eyed the extreme pallor of Hilda’s face and the frown of pain between the eyes, betokening a severe headache. She shook her head. “Stay – try to sleep.” Though even as she turned towards the door she wondered how she expected a woman like Hilda to do that. Especially after she had just been assigned as counsellor to the girl!

She left the room, closing the door behind her, unaware that Hilda, feeling distinctly wobbly, was already out of bed and reaching for her clothes…..

 


#24:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 7:13 pm


Mother Abbess paced the floor of her office, praying. It was not something she had ever had to deal with before - her nuns were not in the habit of disappearing off the face of the Earth unexpectedly! Gradually, the sisters drifted in, all shaking their heads. Their Superior, her face calm, her eyes steady, asked quiet questions of each, keeping their anxiety in check while concealing the dread in her own heart. When Sister Patricia entered, looking white and strained, Mother Abbess sat her down with an encouraging smile, asking one of the nuns to fetch some tea.

Sister Catherine, the newcomer, entered, her cool eyes taking in the tense atmosphere, the placid face of Mother Abbess. “We searched the attics. Nothing!” she said quietly, her voice as cool as her eyes.

Mother Abbess was about to speak when a slim figure stopped in the open doorway. “Hilda, you should be in bed!” she said sharply, eyeing the white face anxiously. Now that Hilda was up, it was clear to everyone just how ill she must be feeling. Quickly, Mother Abbess went to her and propelled her into her own chair behind the desk. “I thought I told you to….”

Hilda raised her hand and spoke softly. “I thought I might be able to offer some of my own experience.”

Mother Abbess eyed her keenly. “It’s happened to you?” she gasped.

Hilda’s laugh was brief and wry. “Oh yes! And every time, I pray it will be my last. But teenagers will be teenagers….”

More nuns had drifted in by this time and Mother Abbess raised her voice, quietening the room. “I take it there’s still no sign of her?” Heads were shaken yet again, and she turned to the most anxious woman in the room. “Then I’m sorry, Sister Patricia, but I’m left with no alternative but to phone the police.”

She leaned over her desk and had actually picked up the receiver when she heard Hilda say, very quietly, “You might want to hold off a little on that.”

Soft as it was, her deep voice carried. Quiet fell on the room. Mother Abbess stared at her a moment, searching her face, then replaced the receiver. Hilda looked at Ellie’s aunt. “Once the police are involved, formalities take over, things can get out of hand, and Ellie herself may never forgive you, especially if she ends up in a police station.”

She looked around at the silent women, and realised that they were all waiting for her to tell them what to do, that in this situation even her friend felt helpless. That friend watched silently as Hilda’s natural authority and dignity rose to meet the challenge; that friend recognised without surprise the familiar impassive mask that settled on the sensitive face.

Her eyes probing, Hilda spoke with a sweet gentle urgency. “Think! Where would she be likely to go? Why would she go? How would she go?” She leaned forward. “If we can answer some of those questions, we may find her without any undue alarm, without scaring her further away.”

They were still gazing at her in a rapt silence. She sat back, apparently at ease, and thought swiftly. “Did she seem upset tonight? More than is normal?”

Sister Patricia stood up and came over. “Yes, she did. She wouldn’t eat any dinner, said she wasn’t hungry – she asked to be excused and went to her room. I let her go, never thinking….”

She trailed off miserably, and Hilda reached out to hold her hand. “You can’t baby a sixteen year old,” she reassured the upset woman sympathetically. She turned to the others. “So, if she was unhappy, if she could no longer bear whatever it was that was upsetting her, where would she go? I’m presuming she doesn’t know England very well.”

Mother Abbess finally found her voice and spoke slowly, feeling her way. “She went to visit a school friend last week – in London. She stayed the night.”

Hilda pounced on that. “Could she have decided to go back there?”

“But that’s utter nonsense,” said Sister Catherine abruptly, contempt in her voice. “She wouldn’t have the slightest idea how to get there on her own.”

“Upset teenagers aren’t very good at thinking things through,” said Hilda softly, her eyes steady, unflinching, as she faced the hostile woman. “To get an idea about something is to act on it immediately, and never mind the consequences.”

“But what would she do? Walk all the way to London?” continued the cold voice and Mother Abbess could only wonder at Hilda’s restraint!

“She has a bike,” suddenly volunteered Sister Anne, a young novice.

“Has it gone?” asked Hilda quickly. They all looked at each other – clearly no one had thought of it. Sister Anne dashed through the door at a nod from her Superior. Hilda looked at Mother Abbess and still spoke in that soft voice that seemed to carry so well. “It’s only five or so miles to the station. With a bike she could get there easily. Then take a train to London. Does she have any money?”

Mother Abbess nodded. “We make her an allowance.”

At that moment the novice dashed back in. “Gone!” she said breathlessly.

Hilda could feel the tension mounting in the room. She forced herself to remain calm and quiet. “Then I suggest, Mother, that you phone the station. Does any one know when the next train is?”

“I’ll ask,” said Mother Abbess tersely and picked up the receiver. After a couple of sharp questions they saw her relax slightly. Her next words had them all relaxing their guard. “Please don’t attempt to approach her or startle her. Someone will be there as soon as possible.”

Replacing the receiver, she looked across at Sister Patricia. “She’s there, sitting on the platform – and the next train is not due for another half hour.” Sister Patricia breathed out slowly and they all saw some colour creep back into her face. Mother Abbess opened her drawer and fished out the car keys, handing them to Sister Anne, with a gentle command to drive carefully. The young nun smiled at her Superior and went with Sister Patricia to the door.

A quiet voice stopped them in their tracks. “A word of caution, Sisters. When you see her, don’t scold her – and don’t fuss over her, either, as though you’ve been worried.” They turned to eye Hilda in a startled fashion. She smiled slightly, aware she was going against all their instincts, and softened her voice even further, so as not to make it seem like an order.

“Treat it like a normal event, as though you were simply picking her up from the station after a day out. Stay calm, no matter what she says. Don’t ask her why she did it.” She grinned wryly. “She probably doesn’t know anyway. Bring her back quietly and just let her go to bed as usual. It can be sorted out tomorrow – when everyone has had a good night’s sleep. Who knows? She might even start to think!”

The two nuns looked at their Superior, who nodded, and they left quickly. Mother Abbess quickly sent the rest of her little flock off to their usual chores and turned to Hilda, determined to get her back to bed as quickly as possible. She was unaware that not everyone had left the room until she heard a rustle behind her. Turning, she saw Sister Catherine approach the desk, to glare down at the white, exhausted face of the woman who had saved them from almost certain disaster.

 


#25:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 7:17 pm


“You were very sure of yourself there, Miss Annersley.” The cold tone of voice told the other two women that it wasn’t a compliment she was paying.

Aghast, Mother Abbess stepped quickly into the breach, hoping to ward off trouble. “Hilda, this is Sister Catherine who is staying with us for a while. I haven’t had the chance to introduce you before this.”

Hilda held her hand out with a smile, but as she looked up she saw the nun’s eyes were cold, almost condemning. Hilda’s hand was ignored so she let it fall slowly back on the desk. Her smile remained, but Mother Abbess watched her gentle eyes turn a cool grey and when she spoke, there was a hint of ice in her soft voice. “I’ve had plenty of practice!”

“Lose your children often, do you?” sneered Sister Catherine.

Hilda’s poise and aura of calm never faltered as she answered softly. “I’ve been Headmistress for roughly twenty five years, Sister. It’s a large school. Adolescent girls don’t think of consequences, as I said before. And often things happen that make them feel they have no alternative. So yes, over the years girls have gone astray. But they have all, thank God, been found safe in the end – although in one or two cases badly injured,” she ended sadly.

“And the parents don’t take them away from the poor care you offer? Don’t warn others?” The voice dripped contempt as she stood there, arms folded, staring across the desk at Hilda.

Hilda stared back at the nun, her eyes still grey – and then she smiled slightly, though the ice was still there in the mellow voice. “Our parents trust us – a lot are Old Girls – and most know their children well. So no, they don’t remove them,”

Mother Abbess could make a good guess as to why that was – they trusted Hilda! She herself was longing to run interference for her friend, but she could see there was no need. And Hilda would not thank her if she did. Hilda fought her own battles. For all her gentleness there was that backbone of steel. She would not be cowed! Her mild exterior hid a formidable self-possession, as Sister Catherine would find out!

“And you don’t feel any guilt?” asked Sister Catherine coldly. This time Mother Abbess flinched. This woman surely knew where to hurt. Hilda did guilt so well!

Hilda’s grey eyes looked bleakly up at her questioner. “Every moment that they are missing,” she murmured. “How could I not? I am in charge of them, in loco parentis. If they go missing, I have failed them.”

She paused, and looked down at her hands lying lightly clasped in front of her on the desk. She was remembering, in particular, Gertrud Becker and Val Gardiner, both of whom had been missing for nearly a week – a week of long endless days and sleepless nights, when she had feared the worst, when she had blamed only herself. After all, was she not supposed to have her finger on the pulse, know all that was happening in the school?

The two nuns waited silently, aware of an interior debate that was clearly troubling Hilda. Finally the grey eyes lifted again to face the cold presence across the desk and her voice was husky as she spoke. “You couldn’t blame me any more than I blame myself, Sister.”

“And do you let them all go unpunished, despite the anxiety they have put you through? You didn’t want the Sisters to tackle Ellie.”

Hilda shook her head and smiled ruefully. “Oh no, Sister,” she said softly. “I am renowned for my comprehensive punishments – they don’t escape lightly, I can assure you. But what I do try to do is make them think – and they hate it!” Her eyes held amusement. “Even the hardiest offender would rather be scolded, even sent to bed on bread and water, than be pushed to explain their reasons for their actions – and they know I will wait them out. I am a very, very stubborn woman! Just ask Mother Abbess here!” and she flashed a grin at her friend.

Mother Abbess was startled at this revelation of Hilda’s secrets as a Headmistress. And yet she should not have been, she realised. Hilda was no ordinary woman, after all. She had had the intelligence to make her gentleness work for her, to get the best out of her pupils. Gentleness and stubbornness – no one could withstand that combination for long. Hilda would persevere, quietly, until she got what she wanted. And then, no doubt, administer the mercy that the nun had heard all about from Gwynneth, when Hilda was in the San.

She remembered a line she had read in Hilda’s book: The quieter you become, the more you can hear. (Baba Ram Dass) Hilda was so quiet she must hear everything - the words left unsaid, the silences left unbroken, the faces left unguarded. That was how she had learned to read people, to get the best out if them.

“Is that what you think should happen to Ellie?” demanded Sister Catherine, the coldness almost gone from her voice, her tone now one of keen interest.

Hilda shook her head, and then winced involuntarily. Mother Abbess caught it and looked more closely. Hilda seemed relaxed and at ease as she sat there, but her hands were now clasped too tightly, there were beads of perspiration on her brow, and that wince told the nun how badly the head was aching. She tried to catch the other nun’s attention but she was focused too intently on Hilda.

“No, I think she is too old to be punished,” murmured Hilda sorrowfully. “Too old – and far too upset… I’m not sure making her think will do any good at this stage – and she has already been punished enough in her short life, Sister.” Her eyes swung to Mother Abbess as she remembered her promise. “But I’ll talk to her myself tomorrow, if Sister Infirmarian will allow me. Ellie clearly needs some help.”

“I honestly don’t think you’ll be fit enough, Hilda,” responded Mother Abbess softly. “You got up despite my express orders – although I have to thank God that you did! We were all panicking, while you thought things through, asked the right questions. Getting in the police would have made Ellie feel like a criminal – and driven her further away, made her even more resentful and upset!”

“Exactly! And she doesn’t need that,” agreed Hilda, glad that her friend had seen what she had been trying to do. She looked up at Sister Catherine. “Are there any more questions, Sister, because I ….”

Sister Catherine’s face suddenly relaxed into a smile of singular warmth. “Hilda, I think Mother Abbess is right. You’re ill and I apologise for my rudeness and for keeping you here when you should be resting.” She stopped and then added, “I think your school is very fortunate indeed to have you – and will miss you greatly when you leave to come here.”

Mother Abbess by this time had her arm round Hilda’s shoulders and was surprised at their rigidity, but at the other nun’s words she felt the tension flow out of Hilda. “Come on, love. It’s time you went back to bed!” Mother Abbess ordered, her arm trying to lift Hilda.

The latter did try. She locked her knees, ready to stand, but nothing happened. Sister Catherine had done her work too well! “I don’t think I can!” she whispered, closing her eyes and leaning her aching head against her friend. “My legs won’t work.”

“Sister Cath…” began Mother Abbess worriedly, but the other nun was already there. Between them they got her to her feet, but before they could move her away from the desk her eyes rolled in her head, and they caught her as she lost consciousness……

 


#26:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 7:20 pm


Mother Abbess’s eyes opened in the darkness. She had been awoken by that sixth sense she seemed to be developing where Hilda was concerned, for there had been no sound as far as she was aware. Switching on her light, she looked across to the other bed. What she saw there had her out of bed and across the floor in a flash.

Hilda was sitting up, her head bowed on her knees, which were pulled up to her chest, her arms locked around them tightly. She was still as a statue, but when the nun placed an arm round those bowed shoulders she could feel the tremors.

When she and Sister Infirmarian had undressed Hilda earlier, after she had been roused from her faint and taken back to the Infirmary, Hilda had apologised profusely for putting them to so much trouble. She did not make a habit of fainting – it had happened to her so rarely in her life – and she was heartily ashamed, especially after collapsing the night before, but the two nuns had soundly scolded her for worrying.

“You were told to stay in bed because you’re not well, Hilda. Your body gave out last night because you had pushed it too far. So what did you expect after just one day’s rest – to get up and fight dragons?” asked the nursing Sister crisply. “Even Homer nods occasionally.”

“Hilda, love, she’s right,” said Mother Abbess quietly, “but I can only be thankful you did disobey me. We needed you! But tonight was just too much for you – so please don’t apologise.” They covered her up and told her to sleep, which she had done – once she was assured that Ellie was safely back and also tucked up in bed.

Now, in the stillness of the night, Mother Abbess held her. “Nightmares again, love?” There was no response but the trembling body leaned into her, seeking comfort. “It’s okay, dear. I’m here. In your own good time. But I do want you to tell me.” Her voice was soft, reassuring, and the trembling eased a little.

After a while, Hilda found her voice. “Nell and I were on holiday….having a lovely time. I have no idea where. But then …..” Her throat tightened and she stopped, swallowed. “We decided to catch a train …. Suddenly Ian was there and Nell….” She drew her breath in with a sob. “Nell pushed him in front of the train as it pulled into the station….she was so strong! He shrieked out in terror. Nell said that….he wasn’t going to come between us. Then….for some reason you appeared and she did the same to you. I could hear the brakes screaming on the train as it tried to stop before it hit you. After that….oh God, Mother…”

She stopped again and Mother Abbess waited. Eventually Hilda raised her head, her eyes so afraid as she looked into the compassionate green ones above her. “She told me we were going to jump in front of the train – then we could be together for ever. It was horrible…. I tried to run away but she was like…a…a demon … she grabbed my hand and forced me to jump…I was screaming….and …..”

“You woke up!” Mother Abbess finished for her, smiling down into eyes that were already losing their fear now the worst had been voiced. “But it’s already fading, isn’t it? And you know why you dreamed that, don’t you?”

“Because of Ellie last night and the station,” whispered Hilda and laid her head on the nun’s shoulders and sighed. “It’s just – they’re so vivid and Nell is so frightening. I’ve never been afraid of the dark before – or of Nell. It’s all so disconcerting.”

“Major trauma can do that, love, especially if one remembers every last moment, as you seem to do. It might have been better if your memory had never returned. And you didn’t wake me, you know. You were determined to fight this on your own – in the dark. That took guts.”

She felt Hilda’s body relax a little more. “And there’s something else that took guts,” she added and her voice was quiet but her eyes were angry. “Sister Catherine was very hard on you last night but you took it all on the chin and kept your cool. I was so proud of you, love. I suddenly saw that strong yet serene Headmistress everyone has told me about - who can make decisions so effectively and sort out problems so quietly and unflinchingly. And one who is so protective and understanding of the children in her care. I learned a great deal from you last night.”

Now she carried on talking quietly to Hilda. “We’re all frightened of something, sweetheart – we all have our own bogeymen. You must not be ashamed of yourself for that, or for all the other things that have happened and kept your grief alive. Grief has its own timetable. It doesn’t follow a straight line but ebbs and flows. Sometimes it leaps out of the darkness when we least expect it, as it has done to you since the accident – and it makes us strangers to ourselves.”

“Like being in a foreign country with no language and no map,” said Hilda desolately, her fingers plucking at the bedclothes.

“Exactly, love. You react in ways you never did before, don’t recognise yourself, feel you’ve lost your identity.”

“I have,” answered Hilda starkly, looking up again at Mother Abbess. “I’ve lost the best part of me – I’ll never be whole again. So yes, I no longer know who or what I am. And I have always been so sure.”

“Oh, but you will be whole again, child,” murmured Mother Abbess and held her tight, her own head resting on Hilda’s. “It’s just that you will be a different you, a person changed and enlarged from the one you were with Nell. Just as you changed after your mother died, after James died. Each time you have had to forge a new path, bringing something from the ruins to give you strength.”

She paused to marshal her thoughts. How many times she had been here with grieving people, helping them see they were not going crazy, that their dislocation was normal, their strange behaviour entirely natural. What she and Hilda had not bargained for had been the extra stresses poured on Hilda, making recovery a switchback ride of violently see-sawing emotions.

“You and Nell shared so many things – values, beliefs, the schools – but your personalities and skills were very different and, because of that, your partnership had a richness and a strength that neither of you had as individuals. You could say, if you like, that the sum of the two of you was far, far greater than the individual parts.”

She could feel the intensity of Hilda’s listening as the cold fingers clung to hers. “That is what you have lost – that deep pooled reservoir of inner resources that you could both dip into at will. So now you have to find those in yourself instead – and it’s so hard and so lonely, I know. But you are doing it, sweetheart. You’re becoming, have already become, a fuller, richer person than the one Nell knew. You’re moving beyond what you were with Nell, moving away from Nell in one sense, and that is scary – and could be one of the reasons for these dreams.”

The head below hers shook slightly and the words that drifted up were infinitely sad. “I’m not more of anything, Mother. Look at me – clinging to you like a child. I seem to be weaker now than in those dreadful weeks when I first lost Nell.”

The nun’s sweet voice was firm. “Not so, daughter. Make no mistake about it – your sorrows and troubles are bringing out the gold in you. You have mined very deep, and brought up such riches. Vivien, Ian, Nancy, myself are all witness to that for you have given so much to each of us. And I am convinced there are more out there who have been touched by this new you, many more than we will ever know.”

Silence fell in the dimly-lit room and she let it linger. Hilda lay very still against her. “Have faith in yourself, love, just as your Nell had supreme faith in you, just as God has supreme faith in you. I know the loneliness, but remember:

Faith is the bird that sings when the dawn is still dark. (Rabandrinath Tagore)

 


#27:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 7:22 pm


Mother Abbess yawned as she climbed wearily out of bed. She knew Sister Infirmarian would insist on her having a nap during the day, despite all she had to do – and she also knew that the nursing Sister would be right. Unlike Hilda, Mother Abbess was keenly aware of the need not to get too tired, for then she would be of no use to her community, of no use to anyone she was counselling.

Leaning over Hilda, she sighed gustily at the wan face and deep shadows. “Trying to blow me away? Had enough of me?” came a sleepy voice, and Hilda’s eyes snapped open.

Mother Abbess gasped. “Go back to sleep, you naughty child!” she laughed. “I’ll never get used to how much you sneak up on me and catch me on the hop. You did that in the San as well. God help any poor pupil of yours who gets up to no good.”

She pulled the covers back round Hilda, who rolled over onto her back and grinned mischievously up at her friend. “Well, if you let me back to my own room, you could misbehave at your leisure and wouldn’t feel the need to sigh with quite such gusto.”

“You don’t get round me that easily, daughter dear,” Mother Abbess responded tartly, tapping Hilda on the nose. “We sleep here until Sister Infirmarian sets you free. I’m just as afraid of her as you are, you know. And by the way, wretched child, I don’t misbehave – I don’t get enough of that leisure you mentioned!”

“I’m not sure I believe any of that! But please may I get up later and have a chat with Ellie?” whispered Hilda, but her eyes were closing of their own volition and she never heard her friend’s response.

“We’ll see, child, we’ll see,” the nun murmured as she stood looking down at Hilda. “If I had my way I’d lock you up for a week and throw away the key. You really must learn to think of yourself a little, put yourself first occasionally.”

She laughed to herself quietly as she left the room. What an insane thing to say! Hilda? Think of herself first? Hah!

 


#28:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 7:24 pm


Later on, after lunch, Ellie was sitting hunched in front of the fire in the small library, staring into the flames rather perplexedly. No one had said anything to her about her escapade the day before, and this lack had left her feeling restless, waiting for the axe to fall. What would her aunt say to her - or that gentle, but very far from sweet, Mother Abbess whom she sometimes found downright spooky? She had met her on the way into lunch and the nun’s green eyes had seemed to reach down into her very soul.

She was wrenched out of her sombre thoughts as the door opened and a tall, elegant figure slipped in. Ellie recognised her as the person who had given her the bambino. She had hardly seen her since and she had been intrigued – why had she done it?

As Hilda closed the door and made her way over to a bank of shelves opposite the fire, she smiled gently at Ellie and the girl found herself automatically rising and saying “Bonjour, Madame” very politely. Hilda paused and smiled again at the girl whom she had known very well was there. Mother Abbess had pointed her in the direction of the library when Sister Infirmarian had let her up for a couple of hours, unable to withstand any longer the soulful eyes Hilda had deliberately made at her all morning.

“You’ll get no change out of me, young lady,” she had said darkly, but in the end had laughingly given in. She had wondered to herself how anyone held out against Hilda’s blandishments? And yet the woman remained so free of artifice or guile! The nun had, however, insisted adamantly that she wanted Hilda back in bed before dinner time. Hilda had saluted sharply - and had been told, very tartly, to run away and play elsewhere.

“Bonjour, ma petite,” replied Hilda softly now, glad that Ellie had made it easy for her. “Comment ça va?”

Ellie’s eyes widened. “Vous parlez français, Madame?” she breathed in wonder.

“Mais oui, ma petite,” laughed Hilda, continuing the conversation in French. “Is that so wonderful?”

“Vraiment, Madame!” cried Ellie, a small smile skittering across her thin face. “I have so missed hearing my own language. Please come and talk to me awhile.” She pulled another armchair nearer the fire, almost falling over herself in her eagerness to keep Hilda near. Hilda subsided into the chair with one of her gentle laughs and regarded the girl thoughtfully.

“Is there no one here who speaks French?” she asked, taking in the intent sapphire blue eyes and the long black hair, tied back in a pony tail. Add to that her very creamy skin and long, long black eyelashes and she was beautiful - and very Irish looking - reflected Hilda.

Ellie shook her head in answer to Hilda’s question. “Mais non, there is no one, but no one. It is very disappointing,” and she shrugged and smiled, very Gallic in her earnestness.

Hilda smiled inwardly at this masterpiece of understatement. “And how long have you been staying here, my dear?”

The smile faded, the blue eyes grew sombre and she sighed. “About five weeks, Madame. Mon père, il est mort. He had an accident, you know – and he died.”

“And now you feel very alone,” said Hilda very softly, her own eyes turning a deep blue in her compassion for this bereaved girl.

Ellie looked up and met those kind eyes. “Yes. I have no mother, and papa…papa….” She stopped, her lips trembling, tears spilling over, and Hilda grasped her hand.

“I know, Ellie, ma petite. Your aunt and Mother Abbess have told me what happened. Life seems hard just at this moment, n’est-ce pas?”

Ellie nodded, the tears flowing faster, and Hilda passed over her own pristine white handkerchief before standing and going over to the window, turning her back to give Ellie privacy till she could compose herself.

“Merci, madame. Vous êtes très gentille, very kind indeed,” said Ellie finally in a trembling voice. Hilda returned and knelt in front of the girl, looking at her with profound gentleness. She was aching to reach out and take her in her arms, but there was no comfort to give. Just at the moment Ellie’s loss was untouchable. Hilda understood that with every fibre of her being.

“Ellie, if ever you need any help, or you just want to talk – or even you don’t want to talk but feel the need just to be with someone, will you promise me something?” The soft voice was very sweet and Ellie nodded. “Will you promise to come and find me? We can talk French, or sit quietly or what ever you want. I will be here for you for the next three weeks. Will that help?”

The girl gazed at her through drowned blue eyes. “I would like that,” she whispered. “You feel – comfortable, safe. I could talk to you, I think.” She stopped and then seemed to remember something. “My aunt must have made a mistake. She told me you’re a Headmistress in a boarding school.”

Hilda laughed softly. “And why do you think she made a mistake, ma petite? Do I not seem like one to you?”

Ellie looked doubtful. “You’re so kind – and gentle – and… and you asked me if you could help. You didn’t order me to come to you. Not like my headmistress. She’s fierce.”

“I hate to disappoint you, little one, but I am very much a Headmistress,” Hilda teased gently and watched the bleakness disperse a little from the sapphire eyes. “I can be fierce – but very fierce – when I need to be. But no, you’re right. On the whole I tend not to order people around. It makes them resentful – especially people your age,” she added with a laugh, and had her reward as a smile teased the corners of Ellie’s mouth.

Hilda sat back on her heels and regarded Ellie quietly. There was still last night to consider. She looked across to the window and to the sunshine pouring in. “Ellie, my dear, would you like to go for a walk? I can’t go far as I haven’t been well, but we could take a little turn around the garden – it is cold, but the sunshine might do us both good.”

Ellie’s face brightened further. Not only did she already like this kind woman with the so gentle eyes, but the chance to go on speaking her native tongue was too good to be missed. Eagerly, she pulled a laughing Hilda to her feet, already at ease with a woman regarded with wholesome awe by hundreds of girls just like her.

 


#29:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 7:28 pm


Mother Abbess watched from her window as the two ambled round the gravel paths. They were deep in conversation, and she noticed that both of them were gesturing prettily with their hands, a thing she had never seen Hilda do before, and realised they must be talking French. That was a bonus she had not even considered when she had asked Hilda to help the girl. Are You working out Your own plan here, Lord? Trying to go one better than mine, by any chance?

The nun could see that already the girl’s air of gloom had lightened and Hilda was smiling – but then Hilda hid her grief so well. As for the girl’s grief, Mother Abbess was unsure just who or what she was grieving for. Did she really miss the father she had never seen or was it just her old way of life she was missing? Hilda would find out, of that Mother Abbess was certain. She turned back to her desk with a sigh. So far, the first of her plans seemed to be working – it would do both of them good, for both of them needed help desperately.

However, even she would have been surprised at Hilda’s machinations, for she had been doing some quick thinking when she went to find her coat and shoes – also some quick praying that the good Sisters would not sit on her too heavily when they heard.

“Ellie, tell me, have you got a Christmas gift for your aunt?” Puzzled, the girl shook her head. Why would she buy a gift for a nun, even if she was her aunt? Hilda grinned secretly as she read the girl’s thoughts written so clearly in her mobile face. “Well, I was wondering …. How would you like to go to London with me? There is a gift I need to buy for Mother Abbess, and we could find something to show your aunt how much you appreciate her care. What do you think?”

Ellie’s face was bright. “Mais oui! I would love it. Could we visit Sarah while we are there?” Without answering, Hilda looked down into the vivid blue eyes raised to hers. The expression in Hilda’s eyes caused Ellie to look away, ashamed.

“I see you understand, child,” said Hilda gravely as they continued their walk slowly round the Convent’s extensive gardens, with its many little nooks allowing privacy for reading or meditation in warmer weather. The flower beds themselves were empty of colour except for the bright scarlet berries of holly and catoniasta. “Do you think you deserve to see Sarah?”

Ellie surveyed the ground, kicking the gravel forlornly as they walked, unable to meet those steady eyes. She shook her head. Hilda added quietly, “You frightened your aunt and the others last night. Do you think that was kind after the way they have given you a home and cared for you?”

She waited, letting the silence do its work. Ellie finally looked up, expecting to find condemnation in the blue-grey eyes but meeting instead only kindliness and concern. “Non, Madame,” she whispered and a tear or two trickled from the still-swollen eyes. Hilda tucked her arm through that of the girl, who was only an inch or two shorter.

“Can you tell me why you did it?” Hilda’s query was put very gently. The French girl, feeling oddly comforted by the arm through hers and by the quiet questioning, walked on in silent contemplation of the ground, her brow wrinkled in thought.

“Je ne sais pas,” she admitted with a sigh. “Not really! It was all muddled up. But it’s Christmas and I thought of my grandmother – she was so sweet – we had such gentle Christmases at her house. Papa was never there but still – we were happy.”

Hilda debated with herself, wondering how raw a wound the death of Ellie’s father really was. Was she wise to push when she hardly knew the girl? But then she recollected how Mother Abbess had pushed her, forced her to be honest. As delicately as she could, she posed the question. “Do you miss him very much, Ellie?”

The girl hesitated, looked up into the sensitive face. “Honestly?” she asked, and Hilda nodded gravely. Ellie sighed again. “I don’t know. I saw him so rarely. I think I miss the idea of having a father, if you understand….” She paused and Hilda walked on silently, wondering what had made Ellie decide to trust her with so much.

She was unaware that Mother Abbess had long ago realised that just to speak to Hilda made one feel better – you sensed she was listening with all her heart and that she understood you even before you spoke. Ellie could not have articulated it in quite the same way, but she felt dimly that she wanted Hilda to know her inner feelings about her father, that maybe this considerate, friendly woman could make sense of it all for her.

Ellie began to speak again hesitantly. “How do you love someone you never see? Even when I was on holiday, he was rarely home – friends came to stay or I went to friends. I learned very early never to…. expect anything from him.” Hilda’s heart ached for this girl who had been orphaned spiritually long before it happened in reality. She had learned self-reliance and resilience far too young. No wonder she had been searching, as Mother Abbess had said.

Hilda reflected, savagely for her, on the cruelty some human beings inflicted on others, even on those they were supposed to cherish and guard from harm. Being unhappy was no excuse!

“What I do miss is my home, miss my grandparents popping in, even though mémé died a few years ago and….and granddad two years ago. It was such a lovely home…..but now it’s gone. Tante Patricia is kind – like all the Sisters – but it’s not home.” The last word was said with such longing that Hilda had to blink back the tears. She knew that feeling. Home for her had been Nell – and Nell was gone, like Ellie’s home.

She pressed Ellie’s arm comfortingly. “And what made it so much worse yesterday?” she asked, her lovely voice a low murmur of encouragement and reassurance.

Ellie shook her head despairingly. “I don’t know. Sarah’s Christmas card arrived and a little present – and people from school wrote, even my Headmistress!” she added in surprise. “And I began to realise that I would never see any of them again, that school had become a second home – and I had lost that as well. I looked around at the Sisters at dinner last night and it hit me for the first time that they are all I have now…..everyone else has left me…”

Hilda tried to speak but her throat was so tight it was impossible. But Ellie needed to make her see why she had done what she had done, and her voice wobbled precariously as she went on, “I just suddenly had to see someone connected to my life in France…. I had to know they still cared….. I felt so lonely. Do you understand, Madame?” she asked piteously, tears now brimming over as she looked up into soft, soft eyes.

“More than you think, child,” whispered Hilda. “Oh, much more than you could ever know.”

Putting her other arm round Ellie, she drew the girl close. Ellie laid her head on Hilda’s shoulder and wept quietly. Resting her chin gently on Ellie’s head, Hilda looked out across the wintry garden and spoke quietly. “Ellie, if you ever feel like that again I want you to come and find me – immediately. I will show you my room so you can find me, even during the night. Don’t worry about whether I will be asleep. Wake me up and I will listen and try to help.”

The black head on her shoulder nodded slightly. “I mean it, mon enfant - any time of the day or night. You will be helping me as much as I am helping you, for I too am very lonely just at the moment.”

Ellie raised her head and recognised, despite her youth, the sadness in the gentle eyes looking down on her. Hilda cupped the girl’s face in her gloved hands and smiled lovingly into the tear-drenched blue eyes. “And remember, Ellie, le bon Dieu is always there to help His hurting children.”

 


#30:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 7:30 pm


Ellie went off happily after they finished their walk, saying, without any prompting from Hilda, that she was going to apologise to her aunt and to Mother Abbess. Hilda extracted a promise from the girl that she would come to see her before going to bed, then watched the pony tail bounce away into the distance. With a huge sigh she herself turned towards the Infirmary.

Sister Infirmarian took one look at the white, weary face and the sad eyes and spoke sharply. “And why didn’t you come back sooner? You can’t keep pushing yourself like this.” She saw despair etch itself briefly in Hilda’s face and softened her tone. “Hilda, you can’t expend all your energy on other people. You need some for yourself. Get yourself into bed and I’ll bring you some water – you can take something for that head. And don’t argue,” she added, when she saw Hilda open her mouth. “It’s quite obvious your head is aching. You can sleep it off before dinner.”

Knowing better than to say anything, and feeling as comforted as she always had when Nell had over-ruled her, she did as she was told and was soon fast asleep, to wake much refreshed a couple of hours later when Sister Infirmarian walked in with a tray.

“Well, you look a little less like a washed out rag now,” said the nun with satisfaction and placed the tray across Hilda’s knees. She was about to leave her to it when she saw that Hilda was looking at her with what could only be termed trepidation. “What is it now? What have you done this time?” she cried in exasperation.

“Do you think Mother has a few moments some time this evening? I suppose it could wait till bedtime but I’d like to speak to both of you. Though I have a horrid feeling I’m going to be out-voted.”

Sister Infirmarian stood looking down at her, her foot tapping, then she smiled. “Oh, eat your dinner, woman. Whatever it is, you’ll get round Mother. You know exactly how to get what you want.”

“Not round here, I don’t!” muttered Hilda with mock-sadness. “I’m roundly sat on. Not at all the thing for a dignified Headmistress.”

“Well, you shouldn’t be so stubborn and contrary. It will do you no harm at all to be trodden underfoot for a while. Now eat! Before I take it away and present you with bread and water.”

When Mother Abbess appeared thirty minutes later and she and the other Sister heard about the trip to London there was utter consternation, as Hilda had suspected there would be.

Sister Infirmarian got in first. “Hilda, you fainted last night. You collapsed altogether the night before. Or has all that conveniently been forgotten?” she asked with heavy sarcasm. “Then might I remind you your head is still giving you trouble. You’re just not fit enough.” She stood there with her arms folded, glaring down at Hilda in disbelief.

“And what about those feet of yours?” asked Mother Abbess softly. “I saw how tender they still are when we undressed you last night.”

Hilda sat up and leaned forward, speaking urgently. “But after two days here I do feel so much better. It must have been the two of you bullying me.” She grinned mischievously at the other two women and saw their faces relax somewhat. “I owe you both so much and I won’t destroy what you have done, I promise. It’s Tuesday today – hard to believe I only arrived on Saturday. And in such a state!”

She held out her hand to Mother Abbess, who took it and held it comfortingly. Sister Infirmarian sniffed loudly but held her tongue. “Give me another day to rest. I’ll be good, honest Injun! I was thinking we could go up on Thursday, stay with a friend overnight – one you know, Mother – do our shopping early Friday and return the same day. We can’t leave it any longer – it’s Christmas Eve on Saturday.”

They were still staring at her, so she added gently, “I promise to take taxis everywhere. I know my feet aren’t up to much yet. But I really do feel Ellie needs to get away from here. The walls are closing in on her. She needs new surroundings, something to take her mind off her loneliness and all she has lost.”

She lay back against the pillows, having done all she could. Mother Abbess gently squeezed the hand she was holding and spoke softly. “I knew I could rely on you. You have done so much for her already in just a couple of hours. I shall spare your blushes and not reveal what Ellie said when she came to apologise earlier – and very prettily she did it too.”

“See! I told you how easily you’d get round her,” muttered Sister Infirmarian grumpily as she sat on the bed. Mother Abbess glared at her while Hilda eyed her apprehensively. The nursing sister sighed theatrically. “You two are enough to drive one to drink! I never thought to meet another such as our revered Superior here,” and she eyed Mother Abbess balefully.

Growing serious, she looked at Hilda. “Make your plans, if you want. But I won’t say yea or nay till tomorrow. I shall tell Ellie it’s not definite yet – and that if I do say yea then she must look after you. She’s old enough and she’s probably got more sense in her little finger…..”

Hilda leaned forward and kissed the soft cheek. “I can see right through you,” she smiled. “I’ll be good, I promise. Now may I be allowed to use the phone to make those tentative plans you mentioned?”

Sister Infirmarian returned the kiss with interest, winked at Mother Abbess and walked to the door. “Maybe,” she answered with cheery insouciance and then made good her escape…..

 


#31:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 7:32 pm


“Hilda, wake up, dear!” The quiet voice spoke calmly and firmly. The gentle hands tried to still the slim figure threshing about wildly in the tangled bedclothes.

But Hilda’s lovely voice continued to cry out her despair. “Nell…please don’t….Nell, we need to help Ian…. We must climb down after him…. Nell, please, we must go back…”

As the voice rose higher the calm voice spoke more firmly. “Hilda! Listen to me! You’re safe here in my home. Wake up, please, dear. There’s nothing to be frightened about.”

Hilda’s body went limp and stopped struggling. The next instant her eyes snapped open and she stared upwards in bewildered relief. “Vivien!” she gasped. “Oh thank God. I was dreaming of…..”She stopped and closed her eyes, trying to come back to reality and control her fear.

“It’s okay, Hilda. Take your time,” shushed Vivien Knowles softly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” whispered Hilda.

“You didn’t. I was awake, reading….”

She did not admit that she already knew all about the nightmares. After receiving the phone call from Hilda, she had been thrilled at the idea of welcoming her Headmistress and the French girl into the pretty Georgian house she had lived in since her marriage, staying on when her husband had decided to leave. What she had not bargained for was the later phone call from Mother Abbess herself, warning her of Hilda’s fragile health and of the nightmares. So she had not been too surprised by the sudden cries from Hilda’s bedroom.

She had been alarmed at just how ill Hilda still looked when the two arrived in the early afternoon, but had smiled inwardly at the adoration in Ellie’s eyes every time she looked at the older woman. Hilda tended to have that effect on people, and yet seemed blissfully unaware.

At Hilda’s suggestion they had spent the afternoon being taught the basics of origami by Vivien – or at least Ellie had. Hilda had given up in comic despair at the sight of her own bedraggled star, saying she was all fingers and thumbs, although Vivien suspected her of some distortion of the truth in order to give Ellie a boost. Hilda had instead sat back quietly and watched and listened, as was her wont.

Ellie herself had been in raptures of delight at learning such a wonderful craft and had produced stars and doves and angels to her heart’s content. And she had been over the moon at discovering that not only did Vivien also speak her language fluently, but knew all about Nice because she had a mother who also came from Provence. Her face alight with all the new experiences and at the kindness being shown, she had bombarded the two women with eager questions about the school as she cut and folded. Hilda had remained quiet and left Vivien to answer this time, for she herself had been similarly bombarded in the train earlier.

Hilda and the girl had openly admired Vivien’s home with its soft, subtle colours and the all-pervading sense of warmth and comfort. They had both been in transports of delight at the huge, prettily decorated Christmas tree with its multi-coloured origami pieces among the red candles and gold baubles. They had even espied an origami crèche in the dining room, with kings crafted from shiny metallic paper and a Mary in sober blue holding an exquisite little baby whose face held a comical expression of perplexed sleepiness.

Hilda and Vivien had wanted to take Ellie out for a meal that evening but the girl had been so happy to be in a *proper* home again, and moreover one with such treasures to explore, that she had begged to stay in, so she and Vivien had prepared a meal, chattering gaily in French, while Hilda had been sent upstairs to lie down and rest. As she had drifted off to sleep she had thought about Ellie’s questions…..

 


#32:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 7:34 pm


Vivien had come to wake her later when the meal was ready. She had looked at the wan face on the pillow and felt sad at heart for her. She understood only too well what Christmas could do to a grieving heart.

“Hilda, before you come down, there’s something needing to be said,” she began earnestly. “When I returned home from school I found a letter awaiting me.” Hilda smiled as she sat up. “You wrote to tell me how pleased you were that I had come to the school, that I was a credit to the school and fitted in beautifully, that the girls appreciated me and learned much from me – and that the staff found me a hoot.”

Hilda’s smile broadened as she swung her legs to the floor, but said nothing as she felt there was more. Vivien chuckled at her reticence. “I could take exception to that last bit, Miss Annersley! A hoot? Is that it?” Hilda merely grinned and her eyes sparkled suddenly with amusement. “I can see I’m getting nowhere here!” grunted Vivien. “On the other hand, I remember what my last Head thought of me and my wild sense of humour, so I suppose anything is a bonus after that!”

She sobered and said earnestly, “Hilda, thank you. That letter meant so much to me when I found it, especially considering what an awful start I made.”

At that, Hilda’s own amusement faded. She took hold of Vivien’s hand. “Vivien, I meant every word of that letter. You made a bad start because of something I did.” The younger woman shook her head but Hilda carried on regardless. “Oh yes, my dear, my grief robbed me of my senses. But you have proved your worth over and over again – even apart from the escapade in Lausanne. Your bravery and devotion to duty and excellent teaching have helped you find a very secure niche in the school – and we would be the poorer without you.”

Vivien was silenced by the accolade but, greatly daring, she leaned forward and kissed Hilda gently on the cheek. Hilda squeezed the hand she held, but Vivien watched as the blue-grey eyes grew sombre. “And as for your wild sense of humour, my dear – the school needs it badly. Nell had a very similar sense of humour and it is very much missed. We were in danger of becoming too serious, and how she would have hated that. So you are welcome on all counts and I am certain that Nell is smiling on you.”

Hilda’s rich voice was very sweet as she spoke and Vivien was too moved to say a word. How unworthy she felt to be treated so kindly by this gracious and reflective woman. God had indeed been good to send her to Switzerland, she thought to herself as she led the way downstairs.

Now, in the silence of the night, she looked sadly into Hilda’s haunted eyes as they opened again. “I’m fine, Vivien. Thank you for waking me. It wasn’t very pleasant….” and she grimaced.

“No, it didn’t sound it,” said Vivien sympathetically as she straightened out the bedclothes and tucked her Headmistress in gently. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Hilda shook her head. “No, my dear, it’s gone.” Vivien doubted that somehow. “Please go back to bed and get some sleep. You will need it tomorrow. Shopping with a young girl will be no picnic, I assure you.”

Respecting Hilda’s private nature, Vivien quietly wished her a better sleep for the rest of the night and departed reluctantly. Hilda lay in the dark, staring fixedly at the closed door, the horror of the nightmare still all too vivid. Loneliness filled her heart, and she yearned for the comfort of Nell’s presence. She longed for it so fiercely it was a hollow and physical pain inside. As was the need to hear again the voice she had not heard since before the crash. Nell had deserted her. Or was she beginning to desert Nell?

A wild sob burst from deep inside and she quickly rolled over to bury her face in her pillow and stifle the desperate weeping that overtook her. Unable to control herself, she whispered Nell’s name into the pillow time and time again. She was unaware of a slim shadow slipping into the dark of the room, of sapphire blue eyes filled with a similar pain, of a gentle hand laid on her shoulder….

 


#33:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 7:39 pm


Hilda’s eyes were so heavy and her face so white when she walked into the kitchen the next morning that they gave Vivien pause. How her Headmistress was suffering! But before she could speak, Hilda looked at Vivien and Ellie sitting side by side at the table staring at her and she raised one eyebrow quizzically.

“Not one, but two, saviours,” she commented softly. “I do wonder who has been talking.”

It did not escape her notice that the woman and the girl avoided turning to look at each other. Vivien even managed a quizzical look of her own as she asked blandly, “What do you mean, Hilda?”

Hilda smiled grimly. “Let me put it this way, Vivien, my dear. You knew enough about my bad dreams that you were not asleep last night but waiting and listening….” She saw the abashed look that crossed Vivien’s face. However, she ignored it and continued, “And someone in this room somehow knew all about my sadness,” and her eyes swung to Ellie, who was desperately trying to make herself smaller.

“Mother Abbess rang me,” confessed Vivien, realising yet again how little Hilda missed and how accurately she put two and two together, never making more than four of it. “She warned me….”

“That I might just be climbing your walls during the night,” finished Hilda softly. “And what did she tell you, Ellie, ma fille?”

“Why…n..nothing,” stammered the schoolgirl, but under the withering glare she received at this, she decided that discretion was the better part of valour and offered up the truth. “She told me that you too had lost someone, someone very close to you, and that I was to look out for you.”

“Which is why you crept into my room last night, after Miss Knowles had left. - you guessed something was wrong,” breathed Hilda, her eyes searching the girl’s face.

As Vivien turned to stare at Ellie, Hilda thought about that moment during the night when she had controlled her heart’s agony sufficiently to become aware of Ellie’s hand stroking her hair. Nothing had been said, but when she had held out her hand to Ellie, the girl had knelt by the bed, had laid her head on the pillow beside Hilda and had begun to weep inconsolably, as though Hilda’s sorrow had called forth her own.

Hilda had said nothing, simply pulled the girl into bed beside her and held her until she had wept herself out and fallen asleep. Hilda herself had lain awake for a long while, staring unseeingly into the dark, her arms securely around the girl, knowing absolutely that God had sent her here for Ellie and that out of her own loneliness and pain would come healing for Ellie.

So deeply had Hilda fallen asleep, in the end, that she had been unaware of the girl tiptoeing out in dawn’s early light. Nor had she been aware of the butterfly kiss bestowed on her by the girl. Ellie’s love-starved heart was being warmed back into life by the compassion and understanding poured on her by Hilda. The girl had so far been unreceptive to the affection offered by her aunt and the other Sisters, sensing unfairly a lack of true feeling on their part. She had thought they accepted her only out of a sense of duty. Whereas Hilda’s loving, gentle eyes seemed to look deep into her, to touch the hurt and confusion within and to soothe and comfort in a way Ellie had never met before.

Now Hilda walked round the table and knelt between them, putting an arm round each and pulling them close. See how open I am learning to be, she whispered in her heart to Mother Abbess. She kissed the two of them on the cheek.

“There are no words, really - but thank you both,” she whispered. “You brought me much-needed comfort and help. It’s just that I’m not used to people knowing about my problems and Mother Abbess is aware of that.”

They each closed their arms round her and held her close for a moment, and her mind flashed back to a day when she had been held by Gwynneth and Nancy in much the same way. Mother Abbess was right as usual – there was healing in the love of others’ arms.

Not wanting either of her guests to break down, Vivien cleared her throat and said huskily, “Breakfast.”

“First, I would rather like to avail myself of your phone, if I may, my dear,” responded Hilda quietly, the light of battle in her eyes. After all, did her name not mean a battlemaid?

“Good morning. Saint Matthew’s Convent,” came the sweet voice over the phone.

The voice which answered was not sweet at all, but cold in the extreme. “Good morning, Mother. I hope you are well.”

“Hilda?” queried a suddenly perplexed Mother Abbess, and she pulled the receiver away from her ear and gazed at it as though it could give her an explanation. “Are you alright, child? You sound…”

“Oh, I’m very well, Mother.” The icy voice purred dangerously. “I have been well and truly succoured, thanks to your secret plotting behind my back.” There was a pregnant pause, and then the purr grew more dangerous still. “Who told you that you were allowed to give away my secrets?”

“Ah!” said Mother Abbess quietly. So she had been found out! But then, had she expected anything less from Hilda? “Who betrayed me? I thought they were both trustworthy.”

“Oh, they are,” purred the deep and dangerous voice. “Very trustworthy! Much more so than a certain Mother Abbess I could name. Do credit me with a brain cell or two, Mother, dear.”

Surely she wasn’t really angry, reflected the nun worriedly, wondering how she was going to extricate herself from the morass. “Hilda, I…..” she began uncertainly.

“Yes? You – what?” Hilda smiled secretly, enjoying herself hugely, knowing she had finally got her friend on the run. How she had missed such conversations! Nell had always been ready for the fray – nay, more than ready. “You apologise? You kiss my feet? I seem to remember a certain person giving away secrets to Gwynneth as well, not too long ago.”

Mother Abbess pulled herself together. “Hilda, you know you’ve not been well. I was only worried….”

“Oh, you should be worried,” purred the voice, and Mother Abbess could almost hear the licking of lips in anticipation - a predator ready to pounce. “You will never know when I might just take it into my head to get my own back. That sword of Damocles will be hanging there – when will it drop?”

Mother Abbess felt her throat tighten. Was this really Hilda – or had she entered the realm of Hilda’s nightmares? Pinching herself to make sure, she opened her mouth to try some attempt at amelioration – and heard a quickly suppressed giggle.

Being no slouch, the nun was on it in a flash. “Hilda Mary Annersley, you unmitigated wretch!” she cried. “Not fair, my dear! You really had me fooled there for a moment. No wonder your pupils quiver in their boots. That voice could freeze a sunbeam. Behave!”

“Don’t fret, Mother. I intend to behave – very, very badly. You just wait.” The next moment wild giggles were heard coming down the phone and Mother Abbess’s face became one big beam as she heard them. Talk about light at the end of the tunnel! Was this really the haunted woman who had walked so sorrowfully into the Convent less than a week ago, the woman who had collapsed under the weight of all her tensions? What a miracle!

Hilda finally controlled herself enough to pick up the receiver again. “Ouch!” she gasped. “Oh, Mother, I couldn’t resist it. You were very, very naughty.” Her lovely voice grew warm and mellow. “But I forgive you. I needed them both during the night – and they were ready. You chose your instruments well.”

“I chose you well too, my daughter,” answered Mother Abbess softly. “Ellie told her aunt what you did for her during the night – I think she was so overwhelmed she felt she had to tell somebody. You have such gifts of sensitivity and sympathy, Hilda. I’ve told you so often, you heal whoever you touch. This Convent needs your grace and mercy so much.”

“Mother, you’re not allowed to say things like that,” whispered Hilda from a suddenly tight throat.

“I’m allowed to say anything I like, daughter of mine. I’m in charge around here, remember. Though there are some who choose to forget it,” she added darkly, then she commanded with a chuckle, “Oh, go away and enjoy the day, child, before I reveal more secrets. And thank you for my first laugh of the day. When I think of how I once dared to boast to Jack Maynard that I could out-ice you any day! Hah!”

“Oh, you did, did you? Well, I haven’t had my last word yet, I assure you. So don’t relax any time soon. That sword may drop when you’re least expecting it….” and Hilda hung up on a fascinated Mother Abbess. What a wicked sense of fun! How much of herself Hilda kept hidden away. No wonder Nell Wilson had loved her – she was a woman who would never cease to surprise and delight you.

 


#34:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 7:43 pm


It was a day to be treasured forever. At the end of that busy day, all three knew that they would never forget it, nor indeed the lovely evening that had gone before. Those hours were to forge strong links between them and would give two of them memories to cherish in the years ahead. Hilda put out of her mind both her worrisome nightmares and her loneliness, and concentrated on making it a happy day for Ellie, while Vivien tried to do the same for Hilda. For Ellie, the whole day took on the aspect of a fairy tale. She had never been so fêted and spoiled in her whole life, not even by her grandparents.

On the Underground, prattling away merrily in French, the two women laughingly answered more of her questions about the school. And the more Ellie asked, the more Hilda’s thoughts of the night before coalesced. Meanwhile, the more Ellie saw of the loving interaction between the two women, the more surprised she was. She had not seen anything like this at her school – the staff there had been both austere and distant. She found Hilda a most unusual woman, with a heart as big as the world, and yet withal, keeping herself at a certain distance. One would not want to make the mistake of over-stepping the line with her. Had she but known it, Vivien Knowles agreed with her wholeheartedly on all counts.

Their first stop was to one of the big bookshops. Hilda wanted to buy a particular book for Mother Abbess, plus books for herself and others. They all browsed the shelves, dipping in and out of any book that took their fancy, wandering from room to room and gradually losing sight of each other. Hilda at one point stumbled over Ellie, who was sitting on the floor deep in the antics of Winnie-the-Pooh, chuckling wildly to herself.

Realising that the girl had probably never come across English children’s books before, she immediately took the book and the girl to the till and paid for it there and then, much to the girl’s astonished delight. She threw her arms round Hilda and gave her a hug, then carried her prize off to the corner where Hilda had fallen over her and carried on reading. Vivien silently blessed Ellie for her impulsiveness when she saw how moved Hilda was by the hug. She also thought to herself rather sadly what a wonderful mother Hilda would have been, given the chance.

After a while, Hilda eyed Vivien meaningfully and the latter laughingly bore the girl off, book still in hand, supposedly for elevenses while Hilda made some secret purchases. Little did Hilda know that Ellie and Vivien had some secret purchases of their own to make and were quite happy to be without her for a while.

As the two of them walked out of sight, the smile faded from Hilda’s face and she rubbed her aching forehead hard. How she wished she could rub her aching heart in the same way. The nearer it got to Christmas the deeper grew her yearning for that most perfect of friends. She still found it hard sometimes to grasp that she was gone forever. If only she could have held her body, looked in her face one last time, how much easier acceptance would have been….

By the time Hilda entered the café, a smile fixed firmly in place, the other two were sitting comfortably drinking their coffee, looking very smug. Putting her heavy bags on the floor with a sigh of relief and sitting herself down, Hilda tried not to wince as she slipped off her shoes under the table. She sipped her coffee gratefully, eyed the expressions across the table and drew her own conclusions. They had been up to no good!

She set her cup down and looked across at the girl. “Ellie, I’ve had an ides about that gift for your aunt. I thought perhaps we could go to the shop at Westminster Cathedral later – they have some very unusual things there. In the meantime, though, before lunch, I want the two of you to help me.”

What was she up to now, wondered Vivien, as she searched the kindliest face she had ever known. Hilda spoke slowly, as though feeling her way. “I know, between you, you’ve made some lovely paper sculptures for the good Sisters, and they will love them, especially Mother Abbess. Remember how she admired the ones you made for me in the San, Vivien?”

“I couldn’t keep her away – she was determined to help,” laughed Vivien and between them the two women tried to explain to Ellie, but - how to create pictures with words? Suddenly Hilda remembered something and delved into her handbag.

“I brought these for Mother and forgot to give them to her,” she said, and spread out four photographs on the table. “Jack took these for me – so I would never forget your kindness,” she added softly to Vivien. Ellie pounced on the pictures with shouts of glee.

“You did these – with paper?” she asked in disbelief as she eyed the large and colourful pictures on the walls of the hospital room. Vivien nodded and explained about the types of paper it was possible to buy, the textures, the colours.

“Oh, I haven’t had enough time,” moaned Ellie, looking pleadingly at Hilda. “I want to learn more.”

Hilda held her hands up and laughed. “We can’t stay longer, Ellie, ma petite. Christmas is the day after tomorrow – and Vivien has friends coming to stay.” She paused here she looked across at Vivien, raising her eyebrows questioningly “But perhaps we could persuade her to visit us at the Convent when her friends have gone.”

“Do you really mean that?” gasped Vivien, eyes wide with delight. Hilda nodded, her own eyes very soft. She owed this woman a great deal – and it felt good to have a place, at long last, where she could invite friends to stay. Vivien held out a hand to each of the others. “Then consider it done. I would adore to come – and to meet Mother Abbess again. And I promise to bring lots of lovely paper,” she added to Ellie, making a swift guess at one thing Hilda might have been purchasing secretly.

Ellie clapped her hands delightedly then turned to Hilda. “But you wanted our help,” she said politely.

“Yes, I have something in mind I’d like to buy for the sisters, Ellie, as a Christmas gift from you and myself.”

“But, Madame, you already gave them that wonderful crèche – and Mother Abbess herself showed me the other one, the one in her Office.”

Seeing Vivien’s puzzled face, Ellie hastened to explain, much to Hilda’s embarrassment. She looked at the girl’s shining face and could hardly believe this was the girl to whom she had given the bambino – the girl with the bleak eyes. She cleared her throat, reminding the others of her presence as they got carried away in praise of her actions. “But what I have in mind now, ma petite, is something they can make use of all year round. Though I’m not sure where to go,” and she turned to Vivien, explaining what she wanted.

Vivien nodded and smiled at Hilda. “I think I know just the place – and it’s not far from here so those feet of yours can relax a little.” Hilda’s eyebrows rose in astonishment and Vivien laughed. “And you thought you were hiding your pain! I’m sorry, my dear, but it’s showing in your face despite all your efforts to hide it. Though I have to confess to being on the alert – I heard all about them from Mother Abbess in our chats at the San. And about your courage. She thinks you’re very special, you know,” she added softly.

Remembering just in time that Vivien knew nothing of her plans, Hilda responded softly, “It’s mutual. Without her guidance and love, my life these last few months would have been very different. I can never repay all I owe her.” She turned sombre eyes on Ellie, who was deep in her book again and not listening. Hilda knew, without any doubt at all that if she had never sought help from the Convent, then Ellie also might never have been helped as she, Hilda, planned to help her. Truly, God’s ways are not our ways, she reflected silently.

Becoming aware of Hilda’s scrutiny, Ellie raised her head and looked across at her. Suddenly she had an idea and passed the book across the table, saying shyly, “Madame, would you write a message in the book for me? So I always remember this happy day and your kindness.”

Hilda took the book without a word, found a pen and sat in thought for a moment.

Dearest Ellie, may you one day find the love and the home you have been seeking all your life, and may a rainbow always touch your shoulder. May you find joy in the great things of life – but also in the little things: a flower, a song, a butterfly on your hand.

Remember that God holds you in the hollow of His hand and will never let you go. When the darkness comes, as come it must one day, turn to Him and ask Him to be your light.

 


#35:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 7:47 pm


An hour and a half later, the present for the Sisters chosen, paid for and dispatched to the Convent as it was too bulky and heavy to carry, Hilda was treating them to a very enjoyable lunch in a French restaurant, ignoring Vivien’s remonstrations about cost and enjoying Ellie’s delight as she ordered food that reminded her of home. Sitting there quietly, sipping a glass of wine, Hilda listened as the other two talked animatedly, thinking to herself how good Vivien was with the French girl.

Her mind drifted, the bustle and chatter of the restaurant faded, and she found herself going back nearly eighteen months, to the last time she and Nell had been in London. They had been there to interview prospective parents and for some reason Nell had dragged her out for a walk in Hyde Park along the Serpentine….

Nell Wilson, it’s after nine o’clock,” Hilda said laughingly as she felt Nell tuck an arm through hers. “It will soon be bedtime – or at least mine. I’m older than you, remember, and need my beauty sleep.”

“Oh, live a little, woman,” cried Nell, dragging her along. “As to beauty sleep, perhaps that explains something. I do put my light out very late.”

“Fishing for compliments? Doing it far too brown, my dear,” responded Hilda lightly, and then softened her tone. “It’s all rubbish, of course. That strong face of yours needs no beauty sleep.”

Nell grinned mockingly and pulled Hilda closer as they sauntered along companionably. Hilda watched the rowers on the lake, and then turned her attention to the sky, where the sun was sinking from sight, spreading a wash of rose and tangerine right across the horizon and setting the lake aglow. How satisfying this little corner of England was – so green and so peaceful, despite the band playing to a large crowd on the other side of the park and the sound of heavy traffic outside.

“You were right to drag me out, Nell,” she murmured. “It’s a beautiful evening – and a refreshing change from the four walls of that interview room.”

“Mmmm?” murmured Nell, scarcely listening, her eyes distant and rather sad.

“What is it, love?” asked Hilda softly. “I hope I didn’t upset you about your face.”

“Don’t be daft, dear girl,” scoffed Nell, pressing Hilda’s arm. “No, I’m afraid I was building castles in the air, for some reason. Do you know how rare it is for me to have you to myself like this. There is always something pressing needing to be done, someone needing us for this or that or the other….” She looked at Hilda, and Hilda could sense her trying to find the courage to speak. “How soon can we retire and be together for always like this?” she asked bluntly.

“Nell?” faltered Hilda, in complete astonishment. “What on earth? You’re a couple of years younger than I – only in your mid-fifties. I never dreamed….”

Nell smiled ruefully. “Neither did I. But something has caught hold of me while we’ve been here. I want us to be together while we’re still young enough to enjoy it. I want to sit together in the evenings, just the two of us, not half the staff room, and talk or just be silent. I want to get up in the morning and be able to say “Let’s go to Venice for the weekend” – and be able to do just that. I want to have the chance to do it all before one of us….”

Her voice trailed off and Hilda stared at her, lost for words. Where on earth had Nell stored all this? Why had she not realised? And who would have guessed? Nell, who so loved her work.

Unnerved by the silence, Nell gave a soft bark of laughter and turned to stand staring into the glistening waters of the lake, her hands in her pockets, her shoulders slumped. “Ignore me!” she muttered. “Long day - and stupid parents!”

A hand touched her shoulder gently. “Nell, dear one, I could never ignore you, But I never guessed.” She stopped and then said softly, so softly that Nell had to strain to hear her. “I’m game if you are. Maybe it IS time to put ourselves first. Did the cruise have something to do with this?”

Nell nodded, and smiled shyly. Hilda turned her round and they began walking again. Nell explained further. “It was so much fun being together like that for five weeks – exploring new places, re-visiting others, seeing old friends, and just having time for each other. Every year the school gets busier, our jobs more onerous, our chances to be together fewer and fewer. It’s senseless. Life isn’t only about work! Or it shouldn’t be! Some weeks I scarcely have chance to say hello to you.”

“And it’s lonely,” whispered Hilda.

Nell’s head whipped round. “You’ve felt the same,” she stated, suddenly breathless.

Hilda nodded. “But I didn’t realise you did. And yet - I love the school, love my job, the girls…”

“It’s a conundrum, isn’t it, love?” queried Nell softly. “Would we get restless after a while and regret it?”


They had promised they would do some hard thinking, had discussed it a few times, had even made tentative plans – and then an earthquake had smashed all options. Leaving Hilda lonelier than either of them could ever have imagined…...

Dear one, we never had a chance, did we? Less than a year later you were gone. How tantalising life is – offering and then taking away, without fear or favour. But thank you for that sweet memory – even though it hurts. Only – when do I get to hear your voice again? Or have you decided that….

“Hilda? Hilda, are you okay?” The hand on her arm and the quiet concern in the voice brought her back far too sharply to the bustle and chatter of the restaurant, and she winced involuntarily. “Hilda?” came the voice again, and she became aware that she had worried Vivien.

Vivien herself quailed at the anguish in the eyes which Hilda turned towards her, and then watched in silent admiration as her Head got herself under control and her eyes resumed their patient gentleness. “Hilda, do you want to leave?” asked Vivien quietly.

Hilda summoned a smile and clasped Vivien’s hand warmly, shaking her head. “Thank you, my dear, but I’m fine. I’m so sorry – I didn’t mean to tune you out like that. Please forgive me.”

Hilda looked across at Ellie and saw she also was watching her anxiously. Feeling guilty, she wondered to herself just how long she had spent with Nell. “Ellie, sois tranquille, ma petite. I was just thinking of the last time I was here.”

“It was not a happy time, Madame?”

Hilda smiled reminiscently, her eyes soft. “Oh yes, chérie, it was a very happy time. Now, how about a sweet? Tarte aux pommes, bavarois, îles flottantes….?” she asked, turning the conversation away from herself.

Later, just before they stood up to leave, Hilda suddenly delved into one of her many bags and produced a beautifully wrapped present which she placed on the table by Vivien. The latter gaped at it, thunderstruck.

Hilda’s rich voice was warm and appreciative as she spoke. “Vivien, this is from Ellie and myself to thank you for making us so welcome in your lovely home and for taking such good care of us. I gave you very little notice about our arrival, and you have other guests coming, yet you never hesitated. Bless you, my dear, for we have had a wonderful time.”

Blinking back her tears, Vivien shook her head as she gazed at Hilda. “There was no need….”

“There was every need, Vivien,” countered Hilda firmly, her eyes full of warmth.

“May I open it now?” asked Vivien, her voice trembling as she stroked the ribbons.

Hilda grinned. “Oh, I think you would disappoint Ellie very much if you didn’t.”

Ellie nodded heartily and Vivien laughed and pulled apart the paper to discover a large book about Switzerland. Flicking through the pages she was delighted to discover not only wonderful photographs and details about each Swiss Canton, but also stories and legends from all over the country. She looked up at Hilda, her eyes teary. “Hilda, it’s magnificent. I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything, dear, just enjoy it.” Before she could stop her, Ellie had leaned over and opened the front cover, to display an inscription in Hilda’s elegant flowing script.

Vivien, when one is with true friends even water drunk together is sweet enough. Both of us have drunk deeply of your friendship these past two days, and will never forget your loving generosity. It has been truly a blessed time.

The rest of the afternoon floated by like a golden dream for Ellie, one she never wanted to end. All her unhappiness and resentment had faded away under the love these two women were showering on her and life suddenly seemed newly-minted. Christmas, instead of being something to be feared, was becoming something to anticipate with pleasure. She would have Hilda with whom to share it all, and she had her precious book and all the origami.

First of all, the three of them took a taxi to Westminster Cathedral, where Hilda and Vivien introduced Ellie to the marble splendour of the interior before leading her to the shop, an Aladdin’s cave of books, statues, rosaries and a myriad other artefacts. Choosing a present for her aunt became more difficult the more she saw, but in the end she let herself be guided by Hilda and purchased something that might please an artist, something a nun might be allowed to keep and use.

Hilda herself bought more books, smilingly ignoring all Vivien’s teasing remarks about besotted, addicted bookworms. She had heard it all before – and been called far worse names. By Nell!

After that, staggering under the weight of all their purchases, they hopped on a bus and went to Harrods, where Ellie gawped in sheer amazement at the window displays. The shop had taken as its theme The Snow Queen, by Hans Christian Anderson, and each window depicted a different scene from the story.

Ellie stood in silent wonder before a window which held even the two adults in thrall. The Snow Queen herself took centre stage in this one, as she stood near the sleigh in which Kay was already sitting, muffled up to the ears in thick, soft, white furs. The Queen herself was robed in a silvery-white dress that seemed to be constructed purely of snowflakes, all glistening like stars. On her head of flowing black hair reposed a pointed, delicate coronet, decorated with scintillating, blue-tinged ice crystals. She was sparkling, dazzling – and Hilda saw that Ellie herself was dazzled by the chilling beauty of the scene. However, her sapphire blue eyes were warm and glowing whereas the Queen’s were glittering and icy cold.

In another window, there was a vast and empty hall built of ice and snow, all except for one wall. As though to emphasize the cold heartlessness of the place, this wall was lit by the Aurora Borealis, the Northern Lights, flowing and flickering like fire, red and green and orange, constantly shifting and changing. Kay, his lips blue, was dragging huge pieces of jagged ice across the slippery glacier-like floor, trying to fit them into the puzzle that had been set there by the Queen. Gerda stood at the door, her face rosy and alive, her hands held out to her friend, and the doorway around her was melting in the warmth of the love which flowed from her. It was a masterpiece of stunning contrasts.

“This is giving me wonderful ideas for my origami – but how to re-create such loveliness?” murmured Vivien, as entranced as Ellie by the riveting beauty the shop had conjured up.

Oh, Nell, all it needs is you here to complete this perfect day! But if you were here, dear one, where would Vivien be now, and what would have happened to poor Ellie? Truly He is a God of paradox and mystery.

These two days have been such a mixture of sweetness and bitterness, my Nell, that my heart is torn in two. Christmas is looming, my courage is failing yet again….

 


#36:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 7:50 pm


By the time they arrived back at the Convent after that wonderful day, it was after seven o’clock and Hilda was totally exhausted while Ellie was still cheerful and full of chatter. Having been alerted by a phone call from Vivien, and seeing Hilda’s face now, Sister Infirmarian quickly laid the law down, just as she had two nights ago. Hilda was to take herself straight off to bed. Sister Patricia bore the excited Ellie away to unpack and discuss her trip.

Hilda being unable to deny that she was still suffering both nightmares and flashbacks, the nun insisted that she continue to sleep in the infirmary and marched her along there smartly. Hilda tried to demur but was grateful in the end, because by the time she got herself into bed she was shaking like a leaf, frozen to the marrow with exhaustion and both mental and physical pain. Sister Infirmarian took one look, quickly set down the tray she had brought and scurried out of the room. Two minutes later she was back with two hot water bottles and bent over Hilda.

“Lie down,” she ordered abruptly, then tucked the bottles close to Hilda and pulled the covers up to her ears. She waited anxiously, watching the drained face, but gradually the shaking died away and Hilda lay quiet, eyes closed, head thumping, heart and feet aching. Why, Lord? Why can’t I keep going? I’m causing so much fuss and bother – they’ve got enough to do.

The nun wondered how Hilda had found the strength to keep going in London, given the sleepless night and the bad dreams that they had been told about, never mind the fragility since she had arrived. She bent and placed her fingers on the hand tucked under Hilda’s cheek.

“I hope you think it was worth it,” she said bluntly as she felt the hectic pulse. Hilda did not trust herself to speak, and the nun gentled her voice. “You’ve done Ellie a power of good, my dear, but whether it was worth this level of exhaustion is debatable. How are the feet?”

Hilda grimaced. “Sore – very sore,” she admitted finding her voice along with her poise. She opened her eyes and tried to smile at this woman who cared so much for her patients, yet hid it all, just like Matey. “But yes, it was worth it – for lots of reasons. Just to have seen the light in Ellie’s eyes the last two days would have been enough.”

Sister Infirmarian was her usual forthright self. “And what about your own eyes, Hilda? I don’t see any light in them at all just at this moment.” Hilda’s eyes were indeed bleak as she stared back at the nun and the latter’s voice was soft as she asked, “Christmas getting to you?”

Hilda swallowed and closed her eyes again, to hide the flaring of pain she knew must have been there. Sister Infirmarian sat down and waited. Her job was not solely to care for people’s bodies - there were hearts and spirits to be tended also.

Hilda controlled herself and turned back to the nun. She even managed a flash of humour. “Not one of my secrets is safe around here – you and Mother winkle each one out, like prising a cockle from its shell. And sometimes it hurts, as I’m sure it hurts the cockle. I’m not used to being this vulnerable.”

The nun put out a hand to grasp Hilda’s. “Hilda, we’re trained to read faces, watch eyes – and because it’s what we do every day we get better at it, which is just as well if we want to do our job properly. But I get even more practice here – people don’t realise how much they give away when they are weak or ill. Even you, stoic that you are, have been almost like an open book these last few days!!”

She smiled into the grave, blue-grey eyes watching her steadily. “But I don’t think any of us are as good at winkling out secrets as you are. I’ve watched you. You have had as many years as I have of reading others – but you have something extra. You practise self-forgetfulness to such a degree that you almost become part of the other’s pain, and hence feel it more. You’re intuitive and imaginative, warm and gentle, and you have such compassion that you bind up people’s wounds even before they’re aware they have them.”

Hilda’s eyes were by now pools of astonishment as she gazed at this woman who was the proud possessor of a sharp tongue and a brusque manner – and a heart of gold. Sister Infirmarian knew how Hilda hated being praised and added dryly, “The wonder of it is that you can bring yourself to scold children and administer justice. How it must go against the grain! If I didn’t know better, I would say that you were far too soft to do the job you do – but I do know better. I heard all about your run-in with Sister Catherine and how you brought Ellie to an awareness of how silly she was. You’re no lightweight, Hilda Annersley,” she said gently, with great admiration in her voice and eyes.

“And you’re soft as butter,” answered Hilda, when she had recovered her equilibrium. “And I don’t mean butter straight from the fridge, either!” Sister Infirmarian spluttered. “I told you two nights ago – I can see right through you.”

“That’s what I mean,” responded the nun quietly. “You won’t need any training whatsoever when you enter here, You’re already better at it than any of us. God broke the mould when He created you, you know.” Hilda shook her head in denial but the good Sister just rolled right over her and added gently,” There’s an old hymn that contains some words that seem made for you:

And wing my words, that they may reach
The hidden depths of many a heart.
(Frances R Havergal)


I should imagine, Hilda, that your words have the largest wings this side of heaven. I have absolutely no doubt at all that you have reached the secret places of many hundreds of aching hearts over the years.”

She paused, weighed her words and then said abruptly, “Open up to Mother about Christmas. Don’t keep it all inside – let her help. Will you promise, dear?”

Too moved by this time to speak, Hilda gazed into the dispassionate grey eyes, so unlike Nell’s despite the colour, and nodded. Sister Infirmarian smiled, cleared her throat and stood up, taking herself firmly in hand, for she too was moved by what had happened between them.

“Do you feel able to sit up now?” The nun placed the tray over her knees. “Eat this and then you can get some sleep, hopefully without dreams.” Grateful that she had only been given some scrambled eggs, Hilda picked up her fork and took a bite. As she chewed she looked thoughtfully at the Sister, who held out her hands. “Whatever it is, the answer’s no! You’re far too tired. I don’t want an extra patient over Christmas, thank you very much.”

Hilda smiled a little. “See? Sat on, trodden underfoot, squashed flat – heavily,” she murmured and took another miniscule bite.

“I take it whatever it is won’t keep,” stated Sister Infirmarian, ignoring the quip. Hilda shook her head and made her request. Seeing that she was in deadly earnest and seeing also that she was about to claim she was not hungry, the nun laid the law down again. She would see what she could do – but only if Hilda ate up! Ten minutes later she was smiling broadly as she took away the empty plate….

 


#37:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 7:54 pm


When Mother Abbess and Sister Patricia entered behind Sister Infirmarian later, it was to find Hilda dozing peacefully. They would have tiptoed out again but the sound of their entry had percolated, and Hilda’s eyes opened sleepily. When she saw who it was, she rubbed the cobwebs away and struggled to sit up again. Sister Infirmarian pushed some more pillows behind her while Mother Abbess eyes the exhausted white face anxiously.

“Won’t this keep, Hilda?” she asked, repeating the nursing Sister’s query.

“I don’t know,” mused Hilda. “It all depends on Sister Patricia really.” She turned to that lady who was sitting there quietly, wondering why she was there. “How did you find Ellie?”

Sister Patricia smiled broadly. “She’s a different girl. I don’t know how you managed it, Hilda, but she’s never stopped talking. My head’s buzzing. I’ve heard about Miss Annersley, Miss Knowles, origami, Christmas shopping, the Snow Queen and goodness knows what else. Oh yes, and the Chalet School, of course!”

Hilda eyed the creamy-skinned face of Ellie’s aunt with curiosity. She was akin to Vivien Knowles in age, and indeed had Vivien’s brown eyes though she looked like Ellie in every other way. “What did she say about the school?”

The nun laughed. “What didn’t she say? She lost me completely. But the main idea was that any school with you as its Head must be magnifique.” She grew serious and her brown eyes looked gratefully at Hilda. “I think I agree with her – you have indeed been magnifique and I can’t thank you enough. You brought back a different girl. I’m almost tempted to ask ‘Where did you find this Ellie?’”

Hilda shook her head with a rueful smile and then asked abruptly, “How do you feel about the school, Sister?” Mother Abbess stifled a gasp, suddenly divining what Hilda was about to offer. She held her breath, crossing her fingers behind her back. Superstition, I know, Lord, but we need all the help we can get here.

A puzzled look crossed Sister Patricia’s face. “I don’t understand,” she said slowly. “Why would you want to know what I feel about your school?”

Hilda leaned forward and spoke urgently, seemingly changing the subject. “Let me ask you this then. What are you going to do about a school for Ellie, Sister? Indeed, are you sending her to school?”

Sister Patricia shook her head and answered softly, “I don’t know. There’s no money. We could try and get her into the local Grammar School but….”

“But a convent is no place for a young girl to live, is it?” finished Hilda. When the nun shook her head Hilda spoke very quietly, as though scared to upset her. “How would you feel about her attending the Chalet School?”

Sister Patricia stared at Hilda, mouth agape. “But there’s no money,” she said blankly.

The other two nuns held their breath and prayed. Hilda leaned over and took Sister Patricia’s hand, speaking coaxingly. “Ellie is a very intelligent girl, Sister. She speaks French and English fluently, and tells me she wants to become an interpreter. There could be no better place for her than the Chalet School – the girls learn those and German by spending whole days every week only speaking one of those languages. She could even do Italian if she wanted. It’s a little more complicated because she has been doing the French Baccalauréat rather than the A levels we do, so has a broader but slightly shallower grasp of more subjects, but it could be sorted and she could slot into Lower Sixth with no problem.”

Seeing the unconvinced face, she added smilingly, “I could do some work with her during the holiday to bring her up to scratch. And it would mean she would be living with girls her own age, at least during term time.”

“But as I’ve just said, there’s no money. Her father….”

“You don’t need to worry about the money, Sister.” Hilda’s lovely voice was soft, her eyes warm. “I’ll pay for her.”

Mother Abbess smiled happily to herself. Hilda was running true to form. “Hilda, you can’t…” began a horrified Sister Patricia, but Hilda forestalled her.

“Why can’t I? What do I need with the money?” she asked very quietly, her eyes now calm and steadfast. “I’d be happy to fund her. And there are scholarships she could try for, both for her second year at school and for university. But if she doesn’t succeed with those, it doesn’t matter. I’m willing to fund her through university as well. I’ll also buy her uniform and books, and pay for any extras she may need, and all living expenses at university, though a grant should help there.”

There could be no doubting her total sincerity, and tears began to roll down Sister Patricia’s face. “I can’t accept such kindness,” she sobbed. Even Mother Abbess herself was overcome at the scope of Hilda’s generosity.

“Why?” asked Hilda again, very softly. “You’ve all been so good to me. Please let me do this for Ellie. I promise I would look after her for you.”

Sister Patricia buried her face in her hands. Hilda looked at her worriedly and turned to Mother Abbess, who smiled her total love for her new daughter. “Even I, who know you so well now, daughter, never dreamed just how much you would answer our prayers when I suggested you become Ellie’s counsellor,” she breathed in awe. “I should have remembered your exquisite generosity and compassion. Hilda, there are no words.”

“Yes, there are,” said Hilda firmly. “Just say you accept, for Ellie’s sake. What other options do you have?”

“None,” whispered Sister Patricia, her streaming eyes full of hope. She glanced across at Mother Abbess, who came and knelt beside her and spoke gently.

“My child, you would hurt Hilda very much if you refuse, I promise you. She means it with all her heart. You must accept, for Ellie’s sake, as Hilda says. It is answer to prayer. Ellie needs a school – she needs something to replace all she has lost. And this is no home for her, is it?”

Sister Patricia’s eyes searched those of her Superior and the latter nodded encouragingly. Lips trembling with emotion, Ellie’s aunt put out her hand to cover Hilda’s. “I can’t let pride get in the way, can I? I accept, Hilda - though how I ever repay you?” She stopped to take a breath. “If there is ever anything I can do for you in return….”

Hilda smiled briefly and clasped the hand over hers. “There is something you can do and I’ll ask you in a minute. But first,” and she looked round at the others, her face very serious. “I should tell you, there is one condition to all this.”

They all looked at her questioningly. “Ellie must not know I am the one paying for her,” she stated unequivocally.

There was a shocked silence and then Mother Abbess gasped, “But Hilda…”

“No,” said Hilda firmly. “I won’t have her beholden to me. I don’t want her gratitude – it would change our relationship. She would lose her lovely naturalness, all her trust in me. Being her Headmistress will change things anyway, once we are at school – I don’t want to make it even worse for her. Let her at least be relaxed with me during this holiday. She needs to talk to me, weep with me, tease me, whatever – the excitement of London or Christmas is not going to last and I want her to feel comfortable enough to come to me when the darkness returns. You must promise.”

“What if she asks?” It was Sister Patricia who posed the question, and Hilda’s eyes searched the nun’s face for a moment or two as she wondered how the good Sister really felt about someone else helping her niece and counselling her. Did she feel ousted? Then Hilda put that to one side for later reflection and looked from face to face, speaking urgently.

“Tell her the Convent is paying. Tell her you’ve had an unexpected donation. It’s partially true anyway, as half my assets will come to you when I enter.” Silence fell again in the small room. Hilda’s very private nature rebelled at having to discuss such personal matters, but she had to convince them somehow.

“Hilda, I don’t….” began Mother Abbess, but she was unable to continue, and shook her head. Hilda’s eyes were a brilliant blazing blue as she gazed first at her friend and then at the other two nuns, all women who had saved her sanity six months ago and who were still upholding her now.

“In fact,” she added softly, coming to a decision and looking at Mother Abbess again. “I’ll make it the literal truth, so none of us is telling lies. I’ll set up a trust fund for Ellie. I’ll go up to London again immediately after Christmas and see my solicitor about it. You and Sister Patricia can administer it between you.”

Sister Infirmarian blew her nose, and then found a reason for leaving the room, unable to trust her emotions any longer. Sister Patricia, the artist, wiped her tears, smiled at Hilda and with a trembling voice, quoted softly:

Whoever loves much can accomplish much, and what is done with love is well done. (Van Gogh)

Hilda’s eyes held hers and she shook her head, not wanting any of them to be beholden. It was only money, after all. And she owed them so much, far more than she could ever repay.

“Sweetheart, we agree to keep your secret, though it goes against the grain. You deserve her gratitude, but if that is the way you want it, so be it. You know more about young people than we do,” Mother Abbess said quietly, and then asked with interest, “How do you propose we break the news to Ellie?”

Hilda lay back on her pillows, her face almost grey with exhaustion now she had got what she wanted. She turned to Sister Patricia. “I was wondering – could we tell her on Christmas Day? As a present?”

“A very special present,” whispered the nun, and she nodded heartily.

“Then maybe I will take you up on your offer of doing something for me, Sister,” smiled Hilda. “For I am no artist,” and she explained what she wanted. Sister Patricia listened and nodded again, glad to be able to do even this little thing for Hilda.

Mother Abbess watched silently, thinking to herself how carefully her friend had thought all this out – and all for a child she had not even known existed a short week ago. For as much as you do this for the least of My brethren, you do it unto Me. She herself had told Hilda the other night that sorrow had brought out the gold in her. Gold? No, so much more than that. She was one of life’s richest, rarest jewels, with more facets than any diamond or ruby.

The clear green eyes held the soft blue-grey ones and the love in them was as warm as a mother’s caress. Hilda smiled back gently and let her eyes close, basking in the sunshine of that love. It steadied her heart and fed her soul, as a mother’s love should. And it was needed so much, for her heart was turning cold now that Christmas was so very near.

 


#38:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 7:57 pm


The next morning, Christmas Eve, Mother Abbess was woken by the bell at half past six after a peaceful night in the Infirmary. Hilda had not woken her with nightmares and she assumed that she also had slept as well, so tired had she been on her return from London the night before. But sitting up with a yawn, she was startled to see Hilda standing by the window, so far away mentally that at first the nun was unable to gain her attention. She was disturbed by the white, fixed stare and wondered how long Hilda had been standing there. The quiet despair in the blue-grey eyes tore into Mother Abbess.

“Nell got hold of you again, now it’s Christmas?” she asked gently, unable to bring herself to touch Hilda, for she had placed an almost visible barrier round herself.

“May I come to chapel with you, Mother?” she asked, not answering the nun’s question.

“Hilda, you should be in bed,” said Mother Abbess anxiously. “You look…”

“I can’t,” whispered Hilda, and the nun realised it would be cruelty to force her. She needed to be doing something.

“Sweetheart, please don’t retreat. Let me help,” pleaded Mother Abbess softly, her arms aching to hold this white statue.

“You can’t, right now,” murmured Hilda. “Later, maybe.” She looked into her friend’s anxious eyes and recognised the loving concern. “Don’t worry. You’ve broken me down too well. Just give me a breathing space….”

They both dressed in silence, and repaired to the chapel at seven o’clock for the first Office of the day. It was held later than in most convents, so that the guests could also attend if they wanted, and today being Christmas Eve, many had availed themselves of the opportunity. Hilda knelt at the back, and she could never afterwards have described her thoughts or feelings. She did know she found prayer impossible – but the knowledge that others were doing it for her gave her the breathing space she had asked for. All she could offer up at that moment was her pain.

She came out a little more relaxed but was unable to eat anything, much to Mother Abbess’s disquiet, although she did give in to the nun’s insistence and swallow two cups of tea. Mother Abbess remembered with fear that six month anniversary which had torn Hilda apart – exactly two months ago. She had guessed that Christmas might do the same, after the setback due to the accident, but she had so hoped that London would help Hilda as well as Ellie.

“Hilda, what can I do for you?” she asked quietly.

“See me later,” murmured Hilda, her voice and eyes remote and sad. “There’s something I need to do – and only you can help.”

“Alright, love. We haven’t had our usual chats anyway since you arrived, have we? Apart from the middle of the night, that is.” She smiled but received nothing in response. “We don’t usually see people on Christmas Eve, but I rather think this is an emergency, isn’t it? Come about eleven o’clock, unless you would rather do it now?”

Hilda shook her head silently and rose from her seat. “Where are you going now, love? You really ought to lie down for a while.”

“I’m fine, Mother. I’m going back to the chapel,” said this ghost of a Hilda, and she was gone before Mother Abbess could find the words that would keep her.

The Sisters always spent most of Christmas Eve in prayer in the chapel, and Hilda joined them again. Now that Christmas was here, her heart was leaden, pleading for help, yearning for what she knew she could never have again. Past Christmases held her in thrall. And what she was planning to do later that morning was tugging her heart every which way. God and Nell seemed impossibly far away just at this moment – no comfort or consolation to be found.

Where is that happy memory, dear heart? The one in London was too bitter-sweet. You promised me you would not forget – but instead you sent someone who looks just like you to invade my dreams. You were going to trace that rainbow for me, remember….


Still kneeling in the chapel, her face buried in her hands, she was dimly aware after a while of movement beside her. Turning her head, she looked straight into Mother Abbess’s loving eyes. She had finished her own most pressing business and come to offer support and prayers to her troubled daughter. A cold hand reached out to press hers in gratitude and then Hilda buried her face again. Hiding her grief from others, sighed Mother Abbess sadly to herself as she winged prayers to Heaven for Hilda, for Ellie, and for all the other troubled souls within the convent walls.

A little later she was aware of Hilda rising, then felt her shoulder pressed fleetingly as Hilda passed her and left the chapel. Respecting Hilda’s very private nature, she let her go, and applied herself with increasing intensity to her prayers.

She was not to know that Hilda was in her own room, lying on the bed in which she had yet to sleep this holiday. But she was not sleeping. She was propped up on one elbow, gazing fixedly at two objects lying beside her, one large, the other tiny. How on earth was she going to bring herself to do this? She was longing for the release of tears, some relief to her feelings, but her eyes were dry and burning. Instead her heart was crying out its agony.

Life isn’t fair, Lord. And yet I know I must accept. I do accept. I have already given her back to you. Now help me offer these to you as well. Tell both of them that I treasure these, but if I am to follow your dream for me then I can no longer keep them. Ask Nell to send another memory instead, one that has no bitterness attached……

A great wave of exhaustion washed over her, forcing her head down on the pillow. Her eyes closed of their own accord and she slept. She slept do heavily that she never heard the gentle tap on the door, never saw the figure of Mother Abbess enter, wondering why her daughter was late for her appointment. She stood looking down at the sleeping woman, her green eyes filled with compassion as she took in the white drained face and the lines that sorrow and tension had gouged. How she longed to hold Hilda and comfort her – but there was no comfort that could be given, and right this minute Hilda would reject her anyway. Once again she was fighting her own lonely battle.

Mother Abbess saw the two objects, one with Hilda’s hand lying on it protectively, the other snuggled tight in Hilda’s left hand, even in sleep. The nun could make a guess, now, as to why Hilda had asked for the interview and she wept for this brave woman, so strong mentally and yet so physically fragile after all that had happened to her since April.

She reached out a hand to stroke the silvered hair, but then hesitated and let her hand fall again. Creeping out of the room, she repaired to her Office. She could say her prayers there as well as she could in chapel, while she waited for Hilda to waken and find her way thither.

 


#39:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 8:01 pm


It was over an hour later before she heard a tap on the door. Bidding Hilda enter, she surveyed sadly the shadowed, lined face. Mother Abbess knew all too well what Christmas could do to a grieving soul. She also saw the beautifully crafted box in Hilda’s arms and knew she had been correct in her surmise.

Hilda raised her eyes to her friend. Mother Abbess saw the resolve there and once more saluted her friend’s courage. If she could, she knew she would make Hilda Abbess in her place right now. She already had all the attributes and would make such a wonderful job of it. She was truly one very special lady.

“I’m late,” Hilda said starkly. “I’m sorry, Mother. I fell asleep.”

“You needed it, sweetheart,” replied the nun’s sweet voice quietly. She could still sense that almost visible barrier, so without another word she indicated the couch. Words were of no use. Hilda sank down and Mother Abbess heard a great sigh. Saying nothing, she sat beside her, to support her if it should be needed.

The silence of the wood-panelled room settled around them, the fire spitting and hissing gently in front of them. Hilda sat with bowed head, tenderly stroking the delicate carvings on the box, its dark polished wood glowing richly in the firelight. Mother Abbess longed to place her hand over Hilda’s but knew her touch would not be welcome. Hilda was far away in another time, another place. Help her, Lord.

Hilda raised her head and looked straight at Mother Abbess. “You know why I’m here,” she whispered, her eyes suddenly begging for assistance. The nun breathed a sigh of relief. The barrier was down just a fraction.

“Yes, darling, I know.” Her sweet voice was gentle and low. “It’s a beautiful, beautiful box. Is that what you were looking for in the cartons the first day? I’m guessing it belonged to Nell – and that you are going to give it to me. You’re willing to part with it as a first step to offering all the rest. Oh Hilda, daughter, you are so brave,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Hilda shook her head and spoke pleadingly, “Don’t, please don’t. I may yet snatch it back.” She glanced down at it again, as though to store the beauty of it in her mind, and Mother Abbess held her breath. All at once, almost by sleight of hand, the chest was in her own lap – and Hilda was standing over by the window staring out, her hands clenched in the pockets of her cardigan.

Mother Abbess found herself stroking the smooth texture of the birds and butterflies, the leaves and flowers, all carved so delicately on the lid and sides of the chest. What miracles there were all around, she thought. To have had this beauty in one’s soul – and to have had the ability to re-create that beauty so exquisitely! She could see exactly how it would have spoken to Hilda’s spirit.

“I bought it in Vienna,” began a ragged voice abruptly. “I found it many years ago when I first went to the school.”

“It’s beautiful, Hilda, but that’s too poor a word for this work of art,” breathed Mother Abbess. “I don’t wonder at your wanting to acquire it – or at your reluctance to give it away.”

“Beauty has nothing to do with it,” answered that ragged voice so unlike Hilda’s. She came and knelt in front of the nun and touched the chest with a trembling finger. “It’s…” She stopped, swallowed, then fiddled with the small brass padlock. Mother Abbess gasped aloud at what lay within. Wonderful Christmas decorations carved from pale wood, some of them painted, nestled in the pale blue silk lining.

Hilda reached in and picked up a delicately crafted star, dangling it from its red silken cord. She stared at it, her mind far away as she spoke quietly, her lovely voice once more in evidence. “I gathered these during my years in Austria, thinking one day I might have my own home, my own tree.”

To replace the home you would have had with your James, thought Mother Abbess sorrowfully.

“When we fled Austria and the war came, my hopes of a home receded. One Christmas….” She stopped again, unable to speak for the moment as the memories came flooding back. She closed her eyes. “One Christmas, Nell invited me to her cottage. I looked at these – and knew the time had come. I had to give them away. They needed a home. But when I arrived there, somehow I couldn’t bring myself to part with them. And then…”

She dropped the star back in the casket, turned her head and stared into the flames leaping in the hearth, seeing in her mind’s eye a very different fire.

“And then?” prompted Mother Abbess, her eyes watching Hilda’s still face closely.

Staring into the flames, Hilda told the tale of the cerise dressing gown Nell had had made for her, how beautiful and precious it had been – and how Nell had used it to smother the flames of the Christmas tree when it caught fire as they were opening presents.

“Poor Nell,” mourned Hilda. “She was distraught for a while. She had ruined the present she had planned so carefully for me – and she had lost all her ornaments, all those precious memories of her family which were attached to them.”

“And you knew the time had come. You didn’t hesitate,” stated the nun, for she knew Hilda.

“I knew then why I had been collecting them. I told her she could make new memories with them - that they needed a home, needed to live and be loved.” She looked up at her friend, her gentle eyes hauntingly sad. Her lovely voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ll never forget what she said to me, Mother. Her words made these treasures infinitely precious – as indeed she herself was becoming infinitely precious to me by that time.”

“Oh Hilda, my very dear girl,” whispered Nell, tears in her own eyes. “How can I refuse you anything, anything at all? Not only your treasures, but you yourself, have found a home. You belong here with me, Hilda, and these beauteous objects – these now belong with both of us. They’re no longer yours or mine, they’re ours. And yes, we will make new memories with them – but we will make them together - for we both need them.”

It was a long while before either of them broke the ensuing silence. Hilda leaned her head against the nun’s knee and closed her eyes. Mother Abbess stroked the silvered brown hair, knowing the barrier was being slowly lowered and the touch would be accepted now, if she was very gentle.

Such a tale of love between these two splendid women! She had just heard of the beginnings of the true closeness, hearts and minds so much in tune. One day in the future Hilda would realise just how fortunate she had been to find such a soul mate, someone who matched her in every sense, someone who had given her the most wonderful memories to treasure. But how on earth was she, Mother Abbess, to take this wonderful creation away from her?

As though reading her mind, Hilda began to speak very softly. “We made so many memories with them over the years. Her cottage did indeed become my only true home, or rather Nell herself did. I spent so much of my spare time there. Though I never did get my dressing gown,” she added with a reminiscent smile.

Mother Abbess felt tears brim in her eyes and after a moment or two Hilda looked up and saw them sparkling in the firelight. “Please don’t, Mother. There are far worse tragedies, and one day I shan’t need my memories for I shall see her again.” She looked down into the open box on the nun’s knees. “But these mustn’t be hidden away. They need to go on living, revealing their beauty, gathering new memories.”

“And you will help us make those memories, child, as long as you live,” whispered Mother Abbess, her gentle hand still lying protectively on Hilda’s hair. “But tell me, Hilda, can you bear to see them used this year? Would you like me to keep them safe until their memories don’t hurt you?”

Hilda shook her head. “No, Mother. To me they speak of Christmas. Not to see them would feel like being without Christmas. But if there were no Christmas there would be no hope - and I have to have hope. Without hope I couldn’t go on.”

She turned soft, pleading eyes up to her Superior. “So, please, use them and show me there is still hope; hope that she still loves me; hope that I can make a difference in life, and live a fruitful life without her; hope that beyond this pain there is healing; hope that my new dream is really what God wants for me, that it truly is the next step on my journey.”

Mother Abbess stared down into the soft eyes and loved this woman with all her heart. She herself was surely blessed by God to have been given such a soul to nurture. How much He must trust her, Mother Abbess or no, because only the firmest and yet most delicate of hands would do with this strong, gentle woman. In the hush of the room she moved her arm and brushed her fingers – light as a wish – over Hilda’s cheek, and smiled tenderly.

“Hilda, sweetheart, Gandhi once said that a person with a grain of faith in God never loses hope.” Hilda’s eyes clung to hers. “You have so many grains, so much faith, daughter, enough for the whole world. So how could you ever lose hope? Nell still loves you, I promise. How could she not? You are so eminently lovable.”

She saw the denial in Hilda’s eyes, but would not let her speak, just carried on tenderly. “There will be healing, for you are too strong not to seek it and find it. It just won’t be exactly as you imagined and might not even feel like healing at times. And, daughter, you prove to me over and over again that your new dream is exactly right for you. You walk so closely with God that there really is nowhere else now that you would find true joy. Once, Nell was your joy, as you were hers – now God Himself has come to take her place, for no one else ever could.”

She saw Hilda’s soft eyes widen at that and grow moist, but Mother Abbess had more still to say. “You already make a difference, child. I tell you that so often but you won’t believe me. You are living so fruitfully and giving so tenderly that your echoes roll on and on and will never cease, even when one day you yourself shall cease to be. So many people are more than they were because you exist, sweetheart. You have become what Oswald Chambers calls broken bread and poured-out wine for others, nourishing and sustaining them out of your own pain and brokenness.”

Hilda continued to hold the green eyes for long moments, then laid her head against the nun’s habit again and closed her eyes over her tears, listening to the echoes of the nun’s words in the silence of her aching heart. Joy! How she longed to feel it again, as she had felt it for a while before the accident.

 


#40:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 8:03 pm


“Hilda, sweetheart,” whispered Mother Abbess after a while, knowing she had to make the next bit easier for this hurting woman. “You told me days ago there were two things you wanted to give me.”

No answer. The silence in the room stretched. Time was suspended.

Moving very slowly, Hilda put her hand in her pocket, then reached up and placed something in Mother Abbess’s hand, closing the nun’s fingers round it as though to hide it from view. She turned back to look into the fire, her head once more leaning against the nun. Mother Abbess slowly opened her fingers to reveal a small, worn jeweller’s box. Taking a deep breath, she lifted the lid – and exhaled as she saw a plain gold band. She had been expecting an engagement ring.

“James?” she whispered.

“His grandmother’s wedding ring,” explained Hilda, her voice very soft and sweet. “When she was dying she gave it to James’ mother, asking for James to place it on his bride’s finger when he got married. He gave it to me just before he left for India. He wanted me to keep it safe….”

Her voice trailed away as she lost the ability to form words. How she had loved him! And how bereft he had left her! She had never forgotten that day in Oxford, just before his departure.

James knelt in front of her and cupped her face between his hands, his hazel eyes alight with his deep love for this slender woman who was so gentle and serene, yet glowed with integrity and intelligence. He had been blessed indeed, to have his heart held and made whole by such a steadfast, faithful spirit.

“Dear love, it’s my job to take care of you.” His voice was so exquisitely tender that tears flooded her eyes. “Shh, Hilda, dear heart, I must know you will be safe out there, for I couldn’t bear to lose you. I’ll return very soon, I promise....”

He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a tiny jeweller’s box, placing it in her hand. She looked down, puzzled, then slowly opened it. Inside was a plain gold band. He took it out of the box and pushed it very gently on her ring finger, beside her engagement ring - only for Hilda’s scalding tears to rain down on their joined hands. Groaning, he settled beside her, his back to the tree trunk, and pulled her close. She nestled there, her damp cheek against his smooth one.

“It was my grandmother’s wedding ring,” he whispered……

She looked up at him, the tears once more flooding her eyes, as he whispered, “Mother asks...... for your forgiveness...... and says ...... will you let me place this on your finger when we wed. She says to tell you.... my grandmother would have loved you, and would have found you good beyond the common measure, much like herself.” He cupped her face once more in his gentle hands and his soft lips caught hers as her tears flowed warmly over his hands, her joy and her sorrow intermingled....


Silence lingered once more as Mother Abbess waited for Hilda to return from wherever she had gone. She stared down sadly at the little ring that should have graced Hilda’s finger many a long year.

Hilda stirred and took up her tale. “I gave my engagement ring to my niece on her twenty-first birthday. But this I have carried around with me for over thirty years, unable to part with it. Somehow it meant more to me than the other. It represented all James’ love for me.”

She looked down at the seal ring on her left hand – that one represented all Nell’s love for her. She touched it gently, knowing that it would be even harder to give up when the time came. “No one has ever seen it since that day, not even Nell. By the time she knew about James, he had become an ache in the heart, a sweet memory I had laid away, too fragile for the light of day.”

Mother Abbess watched Hilda’s eyes – they were steadfast and tender as she walked through the pain of this renunciation. “It seems fitting it should be one of the first things I part with – a first love being offered to my final Love, the Love who will lead me through to Eternity. I give it with a willing heart for it has served its purpose.”

Oh, no, it hasn’t, not yet, thought Mother Abbess to herself. Suddenly she knew exactly how she was going to use this well-loved little ring. Like the Austrian treasures, it had a story to tell and it was too precious to be hidden away. It would come to rest right where it belonged very soon and Hilda would discover the truth of Martin Luther’s words:

I held many things in my hands, and I have lost them all; but whatever I have placed in God’s hands, that I still possess.

 


#41:  Author: MaryRLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: 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….

 




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