THE DEPRIVED... Chapter 3...Part 26.

A continuation of my book.

At number twelve in Sandringham Road a young girl of twelve was in labour. With no-one to help her it was certain that the baby would die and possibly even the girl. This was the information given to Sister Angelica by a small boy who had knocked on the convent gate and then ran away as fast as he could.
“Get your smock on, Beth. We have an emergency.” hurried Sister Joy as she collected towels and a bucket. “Fill the bucket with water, please. Hurry now.” urged Sister Joy.
Beth ran quickly to the yard well and hitched the bucket to the hook, lowering the rope till the bucket was full then drew the bucket back up.  Sister Joy and Beth hurried through the streets.

 

The evening sky was darkening and thunder rumbled in a threatening sulk as they reached the road, keeping a sharp lookout for the carts and horse-drawn carriages which racketed past, wheels causing sparks to flash from the cobbles as they hurried to get to the address before the coming storm.
“Here it is.” said Sister Joy, pushing open a broken gate and leading Beth down a flight of stone steps.
There was no light, which caused the passage to be dark and foreboding.
“Hold these.” instructed Sister Joy, pushing the towels at Beth and bringing out a candle and flint from the bag she carried on her shoulder.
The lit candle exposed walls which were cracked with damp causing them to colour and smell of mould. There was no door to the frame and from inside came loud screams of pain.
“Take hold of the candle, Beth.”
Sister Joy had put down the bag she carried.
“It’s alright! We are here!” she shouted as she and Beth hurried into a room which was bare of furniture and now lit by the flickering flame of the candle.
The girl lay on the floor with her back arched as she screamed in pain, her clenched fists drumming the floor.
“Bring the light closer, Beth”
Beth held the light close.
“She needs to be in the infirmary!” said Sister Joy, kneeling beside the stricken girl. “I shall have to run back to the convent and get some help. Will you be alright, Beth? Just talk to her till I get back.”
“You go, Sister Joy.” urged Beth.
With that Sister Joy hurried from the room and out into a night which had now given in to the threat of thunder, the lightning forking its anger and the sky thundering its noise as the rain thrashed the streets below. Beth knelt beside the girl who seemed to drift in and out of consciousness before a time of quiet and a time of shrieking pain which caused Beth to feel helpless as she knelt and mopped at the girl’s brow. Not knowing what to talk about Beth began to talk of her own time of labour when she had given birth, then stopped talking as the girl gave quick convulsive jerks and in the candlelight Beth suddenly realised the girl had given birth, the tiny bundle lying between the girl’s legs. Without thinking Beth grabbed the towels and picking up the baby she wrapped the child in the towels and laid it back between the girl’s legs, leaving the chord attached. Taking off her smock she covered the girl with it while telling the girl that the baby was fine and that Sister Joy would be back soon with help. Beth felt so useless and ran to the doorway and up the steps looking out into the night for any sign of Sister Joy returning.

The rain pelted its anger at her while the lightning lit the earth for a few seconds before the thunder crashed from the heavens. Running back down into the room Beth picked up the tiny bundle and cradled it in her arms and then lay close to the girl, trying to induce some body heat. The girl lay quiet and Beth put her ear next to the girl’s mouth, feeling no breath or sound. Instinctively she knew it was too late, the girl was cold and beyond help. Beth began to sob quietly, sitting up and cradling the infant in her arms.

“We’re here Beth!”
Sister Joy came hurrying down the steps, followed by two men who carried a stretcher.
“It’s too late.” cried Beth.
Sister Joy knelt beside her. She handed the bundle to Sister Joy and moved out of the way, sitting in a corner as one of the men bent over the girl and checked her pulse.
“It’s too late.” said the man.
Sister Joy had unwrapped the bundle, looking at the baby.
“Put the girl on the stretcher.” she ordered and waited till the men had done so.
“Shall I cut the cord?” asked the man.
“No, there’s no need.” replied Sister Joy as she wrapped the baby up and placed the small bundle between the girls legs and instructed the man to cover both bodies up and carry them back to the convent for burial.
“Come on, Beth. Let’s get back before you catch your death of cold.”
Beth let go of her emotions, breaking down into a flood of tears and Sister Joy knelt to hold her close as the two men lifted the stretcher and carried it out, hurrying through the rain.
“Come on Beth.” urged Sister Joy. “Let’s go back and pray for their souls.”
Beth allowed herself to be lifted up and helped back through the streets.
“I don’t want to do this any more.” sobbed Beth. “I’m not fit for this.”
Sister Joy hurried Beth through the gate of the convent and up into the dormitory.
“Let me help you.” said Sister Joy, as she began to towel at Beth’s hair. “Death is part of the living here, Beth.” she said softly. “The Lord has given us all a mission on earth and we can only do what we can to help.”
“Well it’s not enough. I really haven’t got the heart for it.”

The distress that Beth felt caused her to become tired and though she slept it was a fitful night, full of dark dreams of death and within her dreams came faces of her mother and father, of a baby’s face which had no features and which she cried out for, believing the child to be her child that had died.

The next morning when Beth rose she found that Sister Joy had left early on her rounds.
“Sister Joy thinks you need to rest for a while.” explained Sister Dominique.
“I’m not really made for the work.” agreed Beth. “I never thought of it before. It’s like seeing the sins of the poor through a window, on the outside looking in and not like when you live inside the house, if you understand what I mean.”
Sister Dominique had smiled. She had been around the slums of the East-End for a number of years and well understood the speech of its people.
“There’s a saying that you can’t see the wood for the trees.” she said.
“I don’t understand that.” said Beth.
“It means that someone sees more when looking at something from a distance, rather than living in the thick of it.” answered Sister Dominique.
“I see what you mean now.” said Beth. “And that’s what I meant. I never saw the hurting when I was part of the hurting. But it is hard to see it as I see it now.”
Sister Dominique smiled at Beth and touched at her hand.
“Sister Joy and others like myself do what we can because we have the strength of the Holy Mother inside us. We do what we can without becoming over-emotional because that is no help in our task when out in the field.” she said.
“I’m not into being ‘God-Fearing’.” said Beth, honestly. “It’s not in me to spend my life praying all the time.”
Sister Dominique smiled.
“Perhaps child, one day you will find the heart to pray. There’s no rushing you, but for now how would you like to help out in the classroom with the youngsters? You can use those new skills you have acquired, reading and writing.”
Beth agreed instantly.
“Then get yourself off to breakfast and then come and see me at my office.” instructed Sister Dominique.

Beth ate with the rest of the girls and though they shared the same dormitory she felt too old to share their secret talk about boys and gossip about the Nuns. After breakfast

 

Beth hurried down the hall and knocked on the door of Sister Dominique’s office. She entered at the Sister’s invite.
“Follow me, Beth.” said Sister Dominique, rising and going to the door.
Beth was led back down the hall and across the yard into a building which housed the classrooms.
Sister Dominique opened the door and ushered Beth into a classroom full of noisy little girls. The noise instantly stopped when Sister Dominique entered the room, her face stern and forbidding. At the front of the classroom stood a young woman dressed in the long black attire of a Postulant.
“This is Dolly, who is in training.” said Sister Dominique, introducing Beth to the young woman.
Dolly smiled, although Beth could tell she was much under stress in trying to control the noisy street urchins who sat in the chairs.
“It looks like you could do with some help.” said Sister Dominique.
“I could use some help. The children don’t seem to understand one word I say.” aggrieved Dolly.
Beth smiled on hearing Dolly’s well modulated voice.
“It’s in their manner.” she said to Dolly. “They’re not used to speaking in a high quality.”
“This is Beth.” said Sister Dominique, introducing Beth to Dolly. “She will be of some help to you.”
Dolly smiled widely.
“I could do with your help, Beth. The way the children speak is not easily understood.”
“Well Beth has their language according to Sister Joy.” said Sister Dominique.
“They speak in a way I’ve never heard before. They won't take any notice of me.” said Dolly.
“Beth will soon have the children to attention, underneath your direction of course.” appeased the Sister, smiling at Dolly. “And I leave you Beth, in Dolly’s good hands.” she added before sweeping out and quietly closing the door behind her.
No sooner had she left than the children began to shout and stand up on their chairs. Dolly looked at Beth with appealing eyes.
“I aint in mind as to have this!” Beth shouted.
The noise suddenly stopped, the children becoming quiet as they stared with frightened eyes at Beth who began to walk between the chairs, her eyes angry.
“And I aint into strapping a brat as makes the noises but I does have a cane as will tickle the back sharply!”
The girls sat quietly, their eyes down as Beth glared at them.
“They are now yours to teach.” said Beth to Dolly, who stood with wide eyes.
“Well I must say Beth, this is the first time I have seen the children so quiet, that is excepting for the times when Sister Dominique comes here.”
“And it’s her style of dress that frightens them, Sister Dominique’s wimple and habit.” laughed Beth.
“I wonder if you might tell the children a story, Beth. I tried to tell them stories from the Bible but they wouldn’t listen.” asked Dolly, lifting up the Bible from the desk.
“They will learn from pictures and stuff which lights their eyes. Those old words are not to their liking, unless you tell it in a way that it makes sense to them.” answered Beth.
“Then show me how to do it. Teach me how, Beth.” implored Dolly.
“I’ll tell them a story from the Bible as it was told to me by my Mammy. She was full of those stories.” said Beth.
Beth stood in front of the class, the children watching her.
“I aint into the fancy of telling.” she began. “But I’m into speaking of a time long ago, when all the people was into mischief and larks and God sees them in this and he aint happy, not one bit.”
The children sat up, their attention taken up by the story. Dolly sat down at the desk, her eyes roaming the classroom and seeing the children enrapt. She listened to the way Beth spoke, the strange language so unlike the English she spoke. She also understood that the words were not natural to Beth but an imitation of the speech Beth had heard during her stay in the slums of the East-End.
“It aint to the mind of God to have it so bad…” continued Beth.

 

“Beth has so much rapport with the children.” said Dolly to Sister Dominique later that day.
“Then we shall keep her with you.” replied Sister Dominique.
Dolly left the Sister’s office and hurried to inform Beth of the news.
“Who would of thought that I would become a teacher.” Beth marvelled and raised her eyes upwards. “I hope you hear me Mammy and Da?” she said.
Beth enjoyed teaching the children, although this consisted mainly of telling stories of Biblical teaching that centred around children being the ‘Lambs of God’. The children found it hard to take in the idea of the Catechism or the truth given to Catholicism, only realising stories which told of a brighter heaven in the future. Beth had no time for the depth of religious belief, although like most of the poor, poverty ran hand in hand with superstition and fear of the unknown so that she feared to speak against religious teaching.
“How my parents felt about religion was that, if you didn’t believe then you were in fear of being struck down dead. And I suppose this was passed through to me and my brother Sam. We understood the fear of God.” said Beth to Dolly when explaining her sense of belief.

Beth took to Dolly reading out the stories from the Bible each night and then offering a translation of the words so that come the next day Beth would tell the same story to the children in the street language they understood, flavouring it with a goodly spicing of horned devils and dragons which put the fear of God into the children so they sat, their eyes wide and fearful.

For the next two weeks Beth went into the classroom along with Dolly, instructing the children in such a way as to increase their awareness of what was good and what was bad. While Beth gained the benefit of feeling that she was achieving something, she also missed being with Sister Joy and being out in the field, having a direct influence on the well-being of the poor and the sick.

“I want to go out again with Sister Joy, to be out in the field again.” Beth told Sister Dominique.
“I thought you were happy with Dolly in the classroom. Dolly will be so upset.” returned Sister Dominique.
“I know Dolly will be upset but I feel I will do more good out there in helping people.”
“Do you think you will be alright, Beth? I mean, you know what you will come up against out in the streets, the dying and the sick?”
Beth nodded.
“Yes, I know.” she said quietly.
“Wait here while I go and get Sister Joy and see what she has to say on the matter."
Sister Dominique rose and left the office and after a while returned with Sister Joy in tow. Sister Joy greeted Beth with a hug of warm affection.
“You’re sure you want to go out and work with Sister Joy?”
“I’m feeling the need of being out there with Sister Joy.” replied Beth in answer to Sister Dominique’s question.
Sister Dominique turned to Sister Joy with raised eyebrows.
“Well?” she queried.
“If Beth really feels she is ready to return to the field then I’ve no doubt she is ready.” replied Sister Joy.
“Very well, Beth. You may go out with Sister Joy tomorrow morning, but…” here Sister Dominique turned to Sister Joy. “One word of warning, Sister Joy. If you have a slightest doubt that Beth can’t handle the situation then you must return her to the convent immediately.”
“Yes, Sister.” agreed the other.
“And you, Beth. Pray each night for God’s strength that you are able to give your arm to the service of the Lord.”
“I will, I surely will!” cried Beth in happiness.