Star of Bethlehem |
Coming
to you in almost every garden and park in Australia, the Star of Bethlehem has
made the transition from its native South Africa to herald the Christmas season
in Oz too. The fact that it is common should not detract from its glories –
hardy, evergreen, spectacular large, long-lasting blooms in one of my favourite
colours. Not to mention the joy of snails, dozens of which can be found on any
one plant.
The
original Star was not, of course, common but its heralding of the birth of
Christ, the God-man, spread the news with the same joyous abandon as the
agapanthus. That one-off event in human history has generated millions who now
celebrate His arrival, God entering the arena of human affairs as one of us.
That’s a mind-blowing thought, worthy of a second glance.
Arrival
The imposing arch of the massive front gate
loomed over Marise. Here was a new world, a place to live and learn which was
as different from the home she had known as anything perhaps could be.
Her boots
scrunched on the gravel path leading to the double wooden front doors. Every
sense was alert – the silence loud, the garden fragrance pungent, and the
height of the red brick and sandstone building towering.
The left hand
leaf of the front doors to the orphanage slid open, silent and seemingly aware
of her approach. It was as if she were being drawn in without human knowledge
or her own will, sucked into this entity which was foreign and yet would absorb
her individuality and make her an indistinguishable part of the mass.
She shook her
head slightly. Enough of these fancies! Her mama had been right – her
imagination gave reality no chance.
She stepped up
to the desk and asked for Sister Joseph. The nun's eyes narrowed as she tried
to assess this new addition to the Orphanage family. Apparently she passed the test. The nun
smiled, and Marise breathed again. What might the alternative outcome have
been? She crushed that thought mercilessly.
Marise had only
a moment to look around the room before the presence of Sister Joseph
pre-empted her actual entry to the waiting room.
"Welcome!"
barked the nun and pointed the way Marise should walk. "I had forgotten
that you would be arriving today, but all's well! We will have your place
sorted out shortly! In the meantime, I will show you around, let you get your
bearings before we launch you among the troops!" The nun hustled her
through doorways, up and down stairs and along corridors that looked exactly
like one another.
Get my
bearings! thought Marise, pushing back the bite of bitter panic.
Sister Joseph
beckoned for her to follow into a cavernous room filled with wooden tables and
benches. At one end was the kitchen, with all the clatter of pots and pans
signalling preparations for lunch already under way.
"This is
where you will eat all your meals, although today you may eat in your room.
They tell me that it's a bit overwhelming on the first day to confront all the
new faces and the din of mealtimes in here. Though it will be just as
cacophonous on your second day – it's up to you." The nun gave Marise a look which seemed to
say, "We'll see by your choice whether you've got the guts you'll need
here." And Marise knew she had to find the courage somehow to eat her
first lunch with the crowd.
She was
grateful to leave the dining room for more of the endless corridors. After what
seemed the circuit of the three-sided building, Marise found herself being
shown a classroom.
"This is
where you will begin your lessons each day. I'm sure one of the children will
explain the system to you," Sister Joseph commented as she saw Marise's
bewilderment at the many lists on the blackboard. That, it seemed, was as much
prior instruction as Marise was going to get. Her mind reeled at the number and
detail of the new things she would have to adjust to. It seemed that no amount
of experience at other schools had prepared her enough for this one.
"I think
you'll find the children at the Orphanage here, for the most part, very
friendly and obedient. You need not worry, you will fit in in no time."
Sister Joseph's attempt to erase the anxiety from Marise's face was met with a
wan smile and an inward groan. Marise had not meant to show her feelings so
obviously. She knew the value of a poker face, and she steeled herself to
contain her desolate emotions.
"Ah, I
think they have assigned you a bed now, so let's park those suitcases before I
show you the library." Sister Joseph glanced at her watch and strode off
with renewed energy, and a piece of luggage. Marise's shoulders ached with the
weight of the other, and she wished for a moment that she had the nun's bulk
which seemed to carry the case as if it were featherweight.
She peered into
her assigned bedroom, and breathed a sigh of relief. She had not been sure how
many others she would have to share a room with, but there was only one other
bed. Only one person whose habits and foibles she would have to become familiar
with, only one person who would know hers. She fervently hoped her roommate was
a discreet person.
Sister Joseph
looked again at her watch. It was large and masculine, much like her, though
not unattractive. She sighed. "I'm sorry, I'm going to have to leave you
to your own devices in the library. I have another newcomer to greet, but
Sister Michael, our librarian, will be able to look after you better than I."
Sister Joseph smilingly waved her to a door at the foot of a stairwell, and
bustled off, Marise presumed, towards the reception.
Books. Wall to
wall, floor to ceiling, books in serried ranks met Marise's eyes and her heart
swelled with joy. Here, at last, was a place where she could feel at home. Her
suitcase forgotten, Marise began to read the spines. She worked out the
shelving system, wandering through the canyons of book-crammed shelves, her eyes
lighting up as she recognised favourite authors. Time disappeared.
She felt jolted
awake by the awareness of a small dimpled nun standing at the end of the row.
"Another
booklover, I see!" Her eyes twinkled and Sister Michael moved forward with
outstretched hands to introduce herself. Marise relaxed after her first shock
of reawakening to the real world.
Perhaps the Orphanage would have its compensations, even joys, after
all, she thought. Shaking off the dark
fears and forebodings she had felt ever since she had known she would be sent
here, she put her hands hesitantly into the nun's.
Marise found
her voice.
"Thank
you, Sister Michael. With a library like this, I think I will actually enjoy
teaching here at the Orphanage."
And the two
women, nun and novice, made their way to the dining room.
May you find this Christmas season full of extraordinary and common joys.
Until next week…
Claire Belberg
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