2292. The Reverend Sister’s drink

A note before today’s story…! Two friends of this blog have recently had books published, and I wanted to give them a bit of airtime by way of appreciation. As some of you know, I’m sometimes inclined to be wayward, so if something such as this calls for it to be done alphabetically I do it backwards! Hence, in this case, Iseult Murphy’s book shall be spoken of before Sarah Angleton’s!

Iseult Murphy is a prolific reader who reviews books galore on her blog. She occasionally deviates from her speciality, which is horror, fantasy, and science fiction, to review something more benign – and she recently review my short book called My Neck of the Woods. Thank you Iseult! But it is her own book I wish to promote. It is called The Mountains of Sorrow and you can read about it and other books reviewed by her HERE.

Sarah Angleton on most Fridays posts a history-based essay, often on a quirky theme – and in an entertaining fashion. Her new novel, White Man’s Graveyard  is an extraordinary well-researched historical novel. Here is a copy of my review of it on Goodreads:

Sarah Angleton’s historical novel, White Man’s Graveyard, appears on the literary scene at exactly the right time in history. Set in the eighteen hundreds mainly in Philadelphia and Liberia it chronicles the tensions between slavery, slavery abolition, and African colonization. We see it through the eyes principally of Annie Goheen and her brother Sylvanus Goheen. History comes alive! One gets an insight into the pressures of those tumultuous times. But even better than that perhaps, we are given a jolly good yarn studded with fascinating people. I laughed and I cried and I wondered. If you are an avid reader, and keen to gain insight into racial stresses in the past and in today’s world, you’d be nuts not to read this wonderful, and extraordinary well-researched, novel.

More about this novel can be read HERE.

And now for today’s story! –  Story 2292: The Reverend Sister’s drink

The Reverend Sister Mary Imelda received a phone call from Mother Superior. Would she come to visit her next Thursday at two o’clock? There was an important matter to discuss.

Sister Mary Imelda belonged to a group of nuns called the Sisters of Holy Charity. They ran huge secondary schools throughout the country and with a great deal of academic and sporting success. Their largest school, Saint Philomena’s, had over three thousand pupils.

Sister Mary Imelda didn’t have an alcohol problem but she did enjoy a little wine before dinner. Occasionally, such as on a feast day, she enjoyed a second glass. She knew that Mother Superior wanted to see her about that. “I hear, Sister, that you have a little problem with the drink.”

Sister Mary Imelda rehearsed her response. She would admit it humbly and with gratitude. Yes, she would stop having a little stipple before dinner. Yes, she had a problem but she was sure she could overcome it with prayer and fasting. Abstinence was virtuous. In fact, the season of Lent was coming up and she could start by giving up wine for Lent. Thank you so much Mother for steering me in the right direction.

The moment had arrived. She was ushered into Mother Superior’s office. “I have an important thing to discuss with you, Sister,” said Mother Superior.

Sister Mary Imelda was thinking this was it, there’s no escape, stay humble, admit your problem even though it isn’t a problem.

“I am appointing you,” said Mother Superior, “to be the head mistress of Saint Philomena’s.”

2197. The treehouse

It wasn’t much fun being the only boy in a family with seven girls. For starters, the house had only one bathroom. You’d think after twelve years that Chad would be used to it. He wasn’t.

Chad decided to build himself a treehouse in an old sycamore at the back of the property. That way he could escape with his friends and have his own space.

What a magnificent treehouse it was! It could be accessed only by climbing a rope. That was something some of his sisters wouldn’t be seen dead doing.

One day he came home with two of his friends from school and there was a ladder propped up against the tree. Inside the treehouse was a pink plastic tea set.

Even though Chad had been taught at school that there was no difference these days between girls and boys, the treehouse trapdoor soon had a padlock on it

1556. Memories

It seemed like just an ordinary old photo. Granddaughter Natalie was showing it to her grandmother. Grandmother Lilianna had been born in Poland but had come to her new country with her parents and siblings when she was nine.

Which one are you? asked Natalie.

Lilianna had not seen the photograph before. Where did you find it?

It was with a pile of stuff in a box, said Natalie. What are the names of your brothers and sisters?

Lilianna pointed them out as she named them. There’s Franciszek and Filip. And there’s Zofia and Maria. You know great-aunt Maria. And I don’t know who that other little girl is. She must have been visiting at the time.

But, said Natalie, it’s written in Polish on the back. Daddy translated it for me. It says “Our six children”.

The photograph had taken Lilianna back to that terrible day. She knew who that fourth girl in the photograph was. It was her sister Dominika. Dominika was still alive and living not too far away. Dominika was ostracized. She had never been spoken about for decades. And now her photograph had emerged. It brought back extraordinary memories of… of…

Can I keep the photo? asked Lilianna.

Of course, said Natalie.

After Natalie left to go home, Lilianna threw the photograph into the fire.