THE DEPRIVED... Chapter 3...Part 27.

A continuation of my book.

“Then take this red cross patch and sew it onto your smock to show you work in God’s name.” said Sister Dominique, picking up the patch from the desk and handing it to Beth. “And God go with you both.”
In the dormitory the girls came to Beth with their worries and problems, sitting on her bed with her as she soothed their worries.
“I’m not a Postulant.” she would declare, sometimes even beginning to think she might take up the cloth and wear the long black dress. What stopped her was the thought of all the prayers, the early mornings in the prayer-room and the late nights spent in kneeling, with palms pressed together.
“I only help Sister Joy in her service to the poor.” she would say.

 

“You’re early!” exclaimed Sister Joy as she came down the stairs and out into the morning light.
“I have the feeling there’s a lot of good work in me, Sister Joy and I am ready.” replied Beth with a laugh.
“Well, remember Beth. You have to take it easy. This morning we have to take young Flossie back home to her father. She has been here for treatment to her legs. She has a form of rickets, though the visiting Doctor says that she will be able to walk normally with time, she just needs some good exercise. Flossie has told Sister Dominique that she would like to become a Postulant. At the moment she is only fourteen. Well that’s what Sister Dominique seems to think she is, but she has no idea of her real age. Our trial today is to have her father agree to Flossie becoming a Postulant.”

Flossie was a large girl, wearing a cloth cap to cover her flaxen hair and looking very much older than her supposed fourteen years. She came out into the yard, blinking in the sunlight and then seeing Sister Joy and Beth she waved excitedly and walked hesitantly on thin legs which bandied themselves in faltering steps. Beth moved to help her but was held back by Sister Joy’s restraining hand.
“Let her walk to us, Beth. The Doctor recommended she should walk and get as much exercise as she can.”
“I has the strength to walk.” announced Flossie happily as she reached them.
The walk to Flossie’s home was quite a long stroll and it took some time, allowing for Flossie’s slow walk. The girl chattered happily non-stop about any little thing until Sister Joy said.
“The first thing a Postulant learns is to adopt a quiet and saintly posture.”
“Which is saying that those who want to become a Postulant have to learn to keep quiet.” explained Beth with a giggle.
Flossie said no more and remained quiet until she stopped to point up at a window above a sign which proposed the dwelling on the ground floor to be a tailors shop.
The man who came down the stairs and opened the door was a large-boned man with no teeth who hugged his daughter, lifting her off her feet and carrying her up the stairs to the rooms above.
“Come in!” he cried on reaching the top landing and setting Flossie down.
“The Doctor asks that you please allow Flossie to walk on her own.” said Sister Joy as she and Beth reached the top and now stood in the front room which overlooked the street.
“Sit down.” invited the father, patting the bed at the far wall.
“Thank you but we much prefer to stand.” said Sister Joy.
“Sit down on the bed Flossie, me love.”
Making sure Flossie was seated on the bed, he then gave Sister Joy his attention.
“I’m in thanking you for your goodness.” he began but Sister Joy held up a hand.
“Flossie has made it clear that she would like to return to the convent and serve God as a Nun, which means training as a Postulant for a year first.” she said.
“Eh? What’s cooking?” queried Flossie’s father, one hand cupping his ear. “Does it mean that you are in stealing my Flossie away? No, no! I aint in having her stolen from me!”
Flossie began to cry loudly, pulling the patchwork quilt up over her head.
“Of course, we cannot make you give Flossie to us. We do need your permission.” soothed Sister Joy.
“You aint in snatching my Flossie!” stated the man again as he pointed at the door.
“Go away and leave us poor people in peace!”
“Come Beth, our work is done here.” said Sister Joy and led the way back down the stairs and out into the street.
“It’s not for us to have Flossie if her father won’t give the right.” said Sister Joy.
As they began to make their way back towards the convent, behind them in the upstairs room they could hear Flossie screaming loudly. Her father bent and picked up a leather strap.

 

Beth sat with the girls at the table as they ate their dinner and, having eaten, was helping little Nettie and Fran to wash up the tin plates and spoons when Sister Joy appeared.
“I have to go over to the infirmary, Beth.” she said. “There is a man who does not have long to go. There is nothing we can do for him except pray for his spirit and dampen his brow. He has a high fever and all the signs of diphtheria.”
“May I go with you? I know I’m not into praying and such but I do feel I can be of some help.” said Beth.
“What the man has is contagious, Beth. I can’t take the chance in allowing you to attend.” came the reply.
“But I shall not be catching anything. God will see me come to no harm.” cried Beth.
Sister Joy had turned away and begun to walk towards the infirmary. Beth followed her, her tone insistent.
“Then you can assist me, Beth.” said Sister Joy, giving in and turning. “But you must not come too close. Promise me that.”
Beth promised to stay safe and to stay well back out of harms way as she walked with Sister Joy through the small archway and into the confines of the infirmary. They passed the statue of the Virgin Mary and child, Sister Joy bobbing a curtsy as they passed and up the stairs into a hallway which housed a range of rooms branching off on each side.
“Don’t forget your promise, Beth.” reminded Sister Joy as they entered the third room on the left, to see Sister Francis kneeling before a man who lay stretched out on the cot.
Sister Joy put her finger to her lips, warning Beth to be quiet before she also knelt in prayer. Beth, not knowing what she should do, knelt as well with her lips moving in silent prayer. The three remained this way, in prayer for some time until Sister Francis rose and prepared to leave.
“I’m afraid there is not much we can do for him.” said Sister Francis.
Beth had moved forward and Sister Joy stopped her.
“Remember Beth, do stay away. Stand over there by the far wall.”
“Will you stay with him for a while?” asked Sister Francis.
This gained a nod of agreement from Sister Joy. Beside the bed sat a bowl of water on a chair and Sister Joy dipped a cloth into the water and began to bath the sweating man’s brow.
“I will come back and relieve you in an hour.” said Sister Francis before leaving the room.
The man coughed loudly, not opening his eyes while his chest heaved up and down as he tried to get air into his lungs. He cried out, the sound becoming a croaking noise from his swollen throat. Sister Joy continued to mop at the man’s forehead then ran the cold cloth over his chest. Beth watched for a while as the man moaned in delirium then Beth fell to her knees, strangely feeling the urge to pray for the man’s soul. As she prayed she felt a strange sensation of elation, as if her prayers would be answered.
“I had a most strange feeling.” she told Sister Joy. “As if God answered my prayers and I can make the man live.”
She remained on her knees and began to pray again.
“That’s all we can do for him.” said Sister Joy, now kneeling beside Beth and beginning to say a prayer in a soft voice.
Suddenly Beth rose and moved over to the dying man and began to stroke his brow. Leaning over, she touched his lips, feeling them cold.
Sister Joy rose quickly and pulled Beth away.
“You promised me you would not get too close, Beth.” she admonished.
“I’m sorry, Sister Joy. I really felt that I could save him by trusting God that no harm would come to me.”
“Mary.”
Both Sister Joy and Beth turned quickly at the man’s voice. It was strong and loud, demanding. The man’s eyes had opened and he stared into space as he called out the name once more.
“He’s calling for his wife.” guessed Sister Joy, now hurrying to the man and dipping the cloth into the bowl.
“Find peace now.” said Sister Joy as she wiped at the man’s brow.
“He’s getting better!” insisted Beth.
“No Beth.” replied Sister Joy. “What is happening is the Lord’s will."
The man almost sat up, his eyes staring ahead with a finger pointing outwards. Then he fell back, his head bouncing on the thin mattress. His eyes closed and then came a strange strangling noise from his throat and he lived no more.
“He has gone to rest with the Lord.” said Sister Joy.
Beth felt the emotion well in her throat and her eyes filled with tears.
“Come on, Beth. Our work is done here.” said Sister Joy, pulling up the sheet to cover the man.
“What happens to him?” asked Beth as they made their way up to Sister Dominique’s office.
“I have to inform Sister Dominique first of the man’s passing and then make out a written report.
“But what happens to the man?” insisted Beth.
“He will be taken to the quicklime pit. Because of his illness, no-one will lay his body into the ground. He will be put where others go who suffer from Cholera and other infectious diseases. Some Postulants will be sent to the room to wipe it down and it will be ready for another who suffers. We will all pray for the man’s soul.” answered Sister Joy and, having reached the office door, asked Beth to wait outside while she went in.
The mention of Cholera brought back memories of her father, who had died from the illness after working as a ‘Night-Soil Man’. She pictured his face, the rosy cheeks and happy laughter as he joked and played with her and Sam and her thoughts in turn turned her mind towards her younger brother Sam and wondering if he was still alive, smiling somewhere and thinking of her in return. Silently she prayed for his safety.
“Come on, Beth. Stop daydreaming” said Sister Joy, coming out of the office and closing the door.
“Where are we going?” asked Beth, shaking her head to get rid of her thoughts.
“Well I have to go and see a family who have offered some fowls in exchange for our blessings. But you cannot come with me. I have to take Sister Francis along to help carry the chickens.” said Sister Joy. “And anyway, you are needed up in your dormitory. Sister Dominique tells me the young girl, Nettie, is suffering from bad dreams and stomach upsets. You are asked to attend to the girl and try to help her.”

Beth waved goodbye to Sister Joy, seeing her meet up with Sister Francis and the both of them walk out through the front gate. Beth turned and made her way up the stairs and turned off at the landing into the dormitory.
Nettie had been sent to bed and lay pale and forlorn with her small face poking out of the blanket like a tiny elf.
“Hallo.” said Beth, walking up to her bedside and seating herself on the edge. “I hear you are not feeling too well, young Nettie. Is it in your mind to share the pain with me?” asked Beth.
Nettie pulled a face.
“I’m in poor need of good comfort, Beth. I has the pain to here.” said Nettie as she pulled back the blanket and pointed at her stomach.