Faith
The cafeteria was an empty shrine to the daylight hours as pieces of napkins, plastic silverware were left on some of the round retro styled tables, it was 0200 , my break time and I came looking for coffee.
I wondered how I agreed to work the night shift as I sipped my coffee, a patient called for help with breastfeeding her newborn daughter, I smiled, " it's a worthy trade", my mother's words whispered as the last of the coffee cup was drained,
That is just right:
My first year with the Foster Care saw many changes, as they gave me old hand me downs from the generous members of their church, they had cut my hair short, as they did not want to be bothered with the tangles. I was eight, and I nearly did not recognize my image in the mirror, the dress came to my toes, as it was a near a grown woman's dress. I had to tie it about the waist so I could walk without tripping, there were no kids who like baseball or catch, so I would run around the playground kicking a soccer ball. I had not heard from my mother or family in months, and the warning from the "real child" boy kept my mouth still. I mourned the loss of the kittens as I blamed myself for bringing them, I was no longer dancing or singing, and I did not fight too afraid my mum would be punished for my badness. I remember Grand Mary's words, " Bonnie girl there are always going to be unhappy people in this life do try not to be one of them", I kept that in my heart.
I was to go to religious instruction everyday after school for two hours, and that was my glad tidings, the church was a haven for me, as I rode the adult bike standing as my feet would not reach the pedal if a sat. I must have looked a sight, old torn dress tied about my waist, a boys hair cut, and old sneakers, I shrugged it could be worse so I focused on the aspects of my new life I enjoyed,
I entered the huge empty church, dipped my fingers in the Holy water to bring witness by asking for permission by kneeling at the entrance by the end line of pews. The smell of spices filled my lungs and I thought I could smell the wafers of symbolince of our Lord's religious ceremony, stepping softly I sat in the front pew looking up at the Jesus nailed to the cross. I thought, this life, is no life for a child, and started to pray for my mother's safety. I felt so safe and warm soon I yawned and stretched out my arms, there were bruises about them in varying stages of healing, as I layed down to rest, " just a moment", I fell deeply asleep, the first time in months.
Cookies:
I dreamed of dancing the reel with my mum, laughing as we spun around the dance floor, everyone clapping, I don't know how long I slept but I slowly woke to find the church lights off except for the alter. I bolted up not knowing the time seemed a night had come, I was frozen with fear, I would be punished, putting my hands to my face I struggled to forgive myself . I shifted my position to climb down off the pew when I saw a plate of cookies and glass of milk, a short note that read, " did not want to wake you, eat your cookies, and join me in the office at end of hall, turn left then right " Sister Ann. I looked at the cookies knew they were sugar cookies, I put two in my mouth at once relishing the taste, a squirrel could not have done a finer job, as I washed it down with the still cold milk, wiping my mouth with the ends of my much too big dress. I dropped down to bring the dishes to the office, I was nervous but I did what I was told, only getting lost twice.
Sister Ann:
I knocked on the office door and stood back as it opened holding my head down waiting for punishment I had grown accustomed to, I felt a hand top of my head, I looked up into grey blue eyes framed in glasses. I often wondered why nuns seem to always wear glasses, then I thought it out, of course, they read the Lord's words all day. I followed her into her office as she sat down behind her desk, pointing at a chair, I sat down remembering to sit up straight and not to swing my feet. The sister smiled at me, " you are a tiny thing", I nodded, held my tongue from saying , " I can take anyone who dares try " , I concentrated on being good, Sister Ann introduced herself as my religious teacher and our goal for me to make my first "Communication ", I had said it so often, the Sister held back her laughter with a cough, "yes Bonnlelynn that is right" , she smiled walking around the desk and took my left arm, " where did you get these injuries ?' I pulled my arm back as if she had pinched me, " not to worry Sister I fall a lot it's the dress" , I looked down at the huge ugly patterned dress tied about my waist, I would never tell a soul how those bruises came about, this is the first I ever write of them. Makes no difference what harm on a child's body be, to protect the loved parent is done at any cost to self. I held my eyes down and waited for her to press an answer from me but she did not, as she moved back behind her desk to sit down she cleared her throat again. I bite my lower lip as I still do when nervous " well then Bonnlelynn here are your study books, and a cloth necklace to wear to remind you that Jesus loves and protects you" I stood gathered the books and religious cloth necklace, " thank you Sister Ann", I left her office with instructions to return each day after school for two hours. I put the books in my long dress tying it at the rope I used at my waist and peddled back to the Foster Care, going past kids playing having fun, I knew my days of fun had been over and questioned if they would ever return.
I did not know it yet but I just met one of truest friends I would know in my childhood years.
It's going to be all right:
I entered the patient's room carrying a plate of cookies and carton of milk to greet a crying mother with a screaming newborn tiny baby girl, I offered to wrap the baby and gently took her from her mother's arms, I held the baby and sat down on the edge of the bed to talk about her burdens and concerns.
It is a worthy trade,
this life is....
it's not the harm that's been done
it is the quality of the healer
who shows the way....
I wondered how I agreed to work the night shift as I sipped my coffee, a patient called for help with breastfeeding her newborn daughter, I smiled, " it's a worthy trade", my mother's words whispered as the last of the coffee cup was drained,
That is just right:
My first year with the Foster Care saw many changes, as they gave me old hand me downs from the generous members of their church, they had cut my hair short, as they did not want to be bothered with the tangles. I was eight, and I nearly did not recognize my image in the mirror, the dress came to my toes, as it was a near a grown woman's dress. I had to tie it about the waist so I could walk without tripping, there were no kids who like baseball or catch, so I would run around the playground kicking a soccer ball. I had not heard from my mother or family in months, and the warning from the "real child" boy kept my mouth still. I mourned the loss of the kittens as I blamed myself for bringing them, I was no longer dancing or singing, and I did not fight too afraid my mum would be punished for my badness. I remember Grand Mary's words, " Bonnie girl there are always going to be unhappy people in this life do try not to be one of them", I kept that in my heart.
I was to go to religious instruction everyday after school for two hours, and that was my glad tidings, the church was a haven for me, as I rode the adult bike standing as my feet would not reach the pedal if a sat. I must have looked a sight, old torn dress tied about my waist, a boys hair cut, and old sneakers, I shrugged it could be worse so I focused on the aspects of my new life I enjoyed,
I entered the huge empty church, dipped my fingers in the Holy water to bring witness by asking for permission by kneeling at the entrance by the end line of pews. The smell of spices filled my lungs and I thought I could smell the wafers of symbolince of our Lord's religious ceremony, stepping softly I sat in the front pew looking up at the Jesus nailed to the cross. I thought, this life, is no life for a child, and started to pray for my mother's safety. I felt so safe and warm soon I yawned and stretched out my arms, there were bruises about them in varying stages of healing, as I layed down to rest, " just a moment", I fell deeply asleep, the first time in months.
Cookies:
I dreamed of dancing the reel with my mum, laughing as we spun around the dance floor, everyone clapping, I don't know how long I slept but I slowly woke to find the church lights off except for the alter. I bolted up not knowing the time seemed a night had come, I was frozen with fear, I would be punished, putting my hands to my face I struggled to forgive myself . I shifted my position to climb down off the pew when I saw a plate of cookies and glass of milk, a short note that read, " did not want to wake you, eat your cookies, and join me in the office at end of hall, turn left then right " Sister Ann. I looked at the cookies knew they were sugar cookies, I put two in my mouth at once relishing the taste, a squirrel could not have done a finer job, as I washed it down with the still cold milk, wiping my mouth with the ends of my much too big dress. I dropped down to bring the dishes to the office, I was nervous but I did what I was told, only getting lost twice.
Sister Ann:
I knocked on the office door and stood back as it opened holding my head down waiting for punishment I had grown accustomed to, I felt a hand top of my head, I looked up into grey blue eyes framed in glasses. I often wondered why nuns seem to always wear glasses, then I thought it out, of course, they read the Lord's words all day. I followed her into her office as she sat down behind her desk, pointing at a chair, I sat down remembering to sit up straight and not to swing my feet. The sister smiled at me, " you are a tiny thing", I nodded, held my tongue from saying , " I can take anyone who dares try " , I concentrated on being good, Sister Ann introduced herself as my religious teacher and our goal for me to make my first "Communication ", I had said it so often, the Sister held back her laughter with a cough, "yes Bonnlelynn that is right" , she smiled walking around the desk and took my left arm, " where did you get these injuries ?' I pulled my arm back as if she had pinched me, " not to worry Sister I fall a lot it's the dress" , I looked down at the huge ugly patterned dress tied about my waist, I would never tell a soul how those bruises came about, this is the first I ever write of them. Makes no difference what harm on a child's body be, to protect the loved parent is done at any cost to self. I held my eyes down and waited for her to press an answer from me but she did not, as she moved back behind her desk to sit down she cleared her throat again. I bite my lower lip as I still do when nervous " well then Bonnlelynn here are your study books, and a cloth necklace to wear to remind you that Jesus loves and protects you" I stood gathered the books and religious cloth necklace, " thank you Sister Ann", I left her office with instructions to return each day after school for two hours. I put the books in my long dress tying it at the rope I used at my waist and peddled back to the Foster Care, going past kids playing having fun, I knew my days of fun had been over and questioned if they would ever return.
I did not know it yet but I just met one of truest friends I would know in my childhood years.
It's going to be all right:
I entered the patient's room carrying a plate of cookies and carton of milk to greet a crying mother with a screaming newborn tiny baby girl, I offered to wrap the baby and gently took her from her mother's arms, I held the baby and sat down on the edge of the bed to talk about her burdens and concerns.
It is a worthy trade,
this life is....
it's not the harm that's been done
it is the quality of the healer
who shows the way....