A Mother's Grace

by Rosie Goodwin

  She felt quite light-hearted as she set off for home and Mrs Batley noticed her serene expression the second she walked back into the kitchen.

  ‘I’ve decided that I’m going back to Wales tomorrow, Batty,’ Grace informed her. ‘There’s nothing I can do for Father if I stay here. Between you all he’s getting the best care he could ever have.’

  ‘But you only just got here,’ Mrs Batley objected.

  Grace crossed to give her ample waist a little squeeze. ‘I know but I’ve finally decided what I want to do with the rest of my life and I want to get back and put my decision into action.’

  Mrs Batley raised an eyebrow and paused in the act of stirring the gravy on the top of the range. ‘Oh yes … and what will that be then? Teaching? I know you always had a yen to do that.’

  ‘I did,’ Grace admitted. ‘But I’ve finally realised where my true vocation lies. I want to be a nun.’

  ‘A nun!’ Mrs Batley was so shocked that the spoon she was holding clattered onto the top of the range splashing gravy everywhere. ‘But you can’t be serious? You’re just a young lass with your whole life ahead of you. Why would you want to shut yourself away from the world?’

  ‘I wouldn’t be,’ Grace assured her. ‘The order I am hoping to join are working nuns. They work out in the world doing all sorts of things.’

  Mrs Batley plonked heavily onto the nearest chair as she shook her head. ‘But if you do that we will never see you again,’ she muttered brokenly and Grace smiled.

  ‘Of course you will. You don’t just become a nun overnight. It takes years before you take your final vows and during that time you’re allowed to visit your family.’

  ‘I see … then I dare say if that’s what your heart is telling you to do you should try it. But promise me you’ll give it proper thought first?’

  ‘I will.’ Grace kissed her cheek.

  Pulling herself to her feet, the older woman continued putting the finishing touches to the meal, although deep inside she felt that Grace was taking the wrong path. In her opinion, the girl was far too young to be thinking of locking herself away from the world but all she could do was hope she would have a change of heart.

  True to her word, Grace was ready to leave early the next morning.

  ‘Will you be goin’ up to say goodbye to your father?’ Mrs Batley tentatively questioned and Grace paused. It might be some long time before she came here again, if ever.

  Slowly she climbed the stairs and once outside her father’s room she paused, a lump forming in her throat. She raised her hand to knock but then stepped away with tears streaming down her cheeks. She was well aware of how seriously ill her father was and that she may never see him again, but even that couldn’t force her to say a final goodbye. She hated him – detested him, in fact – and yet he was still her father and so her emotions were mixed. As she stood struggling with herself, she finally reached a decision and turning about she walked away.

  There were tears from both Mabel and Mrs Batley as she left, but she promised them she would keep in touch and by the time she set off for the station with Harry carrying her case, she felt lighter than she had for some long time.

  ‘Mabel told me what you were planning,’ he said tentatively when they had walked for a while. ‘Are you sure this is what you want, pet? I mean you’ve had a lot to deal with lately an’ I wouldn’t want you to make the wrong decision.’

  ‘It’s nothing to do with anything that’s happened,’ she told him. She knew he was only speaking out of concern. ‘I suppose deep down it’s always been what I’ve wanted but I’ve only just realised it.’

  They were at the entrance to the station now and there was a catch in his voice as he handed her the case. ‘Then if that’s what you really want, pet, I wish you well. But just remember we’ll always be here for you. Keep in touch, won’t you?’

  Grace nodded, too full of emotion to speak, then watched him walk away on his poor bandy legs before heading for the ticket office.

  ‘I see,’ Aunt Gertie said later that evening as they sat in Beehive Cottage sipping cocoa.

  Grace held her breath, waiting for the objections, but surprisingly they didn’t come.

  ‘I see no harm in paying a visit to the Reverend Mother. None of this will happen overnight and it will give you valuable thinking time. But I know someone who will be heartbroken when he hears of it. It’s as clear as the nose on your face that young Dylan is smitten with you, and had you felt the same I think you could have done far worse for a husband. But there you are, you must be true to yourself. I always have been despite what people have said.’ She gave a cynical little laugh. ‘When your uncle died and I sold up to come here everyone thought I’d gone stark staring mad. They said that I was far too young to never consider marrying again, but why would I do that when I had already had the best? So I went ahead with my plan, and do you know what? I’ve never regretted a second of it, so you follow your star.’

  When Grace retired to bed, she stood at the open window gazing out at the garden. It was washed in moonlight and beyond it the sea looked as if it had been painted silver by some huge unseen hand. A new chapter of her life was about to begin and she could hardly wait.

  Chapter Thirty

  ‘And have you given what you are suggesting a lot of thought, my child?’

  Grace nodded eagerly as she stared into the serene face of the Reverend Mother. She had waited three long days for this appointment and during that time she had become more determined than ever that this was what she wanted to do.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Grace told her eagerly.

  The woman stared at her closely for what seemed an eternity before nodding. ‘Very well, I see no reason why you shouldn’t have a trial period here. During that time, you will learn to let go of earthly attachments to family and friends and material possessions and see if this is the life you truly feel ready for. If after six months you are still of the same mind you may join our postulants. But I must warn you, it may not be as easy as you think. Your time will be spent reading the Bible and in prayer. Then, should you still be of the same mind when you join the postulants, you will be trained for a job of work. Teaching or nursing, perhaps? Finally, when you are considered ready, you will take your final vows and become a bride of Christ, but that will be some time away in the future. This is not a vocation that you enter into lightly.’

  ‘Oh, I realise that, mother,’ Grace gushed.

  ‘Very well then, I am prepared to let you enter the convent. When would be suitable for you? I understand you have an ailing parent?’

  ‘I have,’ Grace admitted. ‘But he has a full-time nurse caring for him so I’m not needed.’

  When Grace left some time later she had a spring in her step. Her new life couldn’t start quickly enough but she knew already that she would miss her aunt and the Llewelyns, although the Reverend Mother had agreed that during her trial period she would be allowed to visit them for one hour each month.

  Her aunt took the news well when she arrived back at the cottage, although the same couldn’t be said for Cerys.

  ‘A young girl like you locking herself away in a convent,’ she grumbled with a shake of her head. ‘And our Dylan is going to be heartbroken! Still, it’s your life at the end of the day.’ And with that she turned her back and got on with what she’d been doing.

  That night Grace had a very vivid dream. She and Myfanwy were standing together at the open window gazing at the sky. ‘You must follow your star,’ Myfanwy told her as she pointed to the brightest in the sky. The dream was so real that when Grace started awake it took her some time to realise that it hadn’t been real, although she could have sworn she could sense Myfanwy close by. Perhaps she should take it as a sign that she was doing the right thing?

  She had agreed to join the order the following week so it was inevitable that she would have to see Dylan one more time before she left and she was proved to be right when he wandered in on the following Sunday with a broad smile on
his face.

  ‘What’s wrong? Has someone died or something?’ he asked Grace as he noted the anxious expression on her face.

  ‘No, nothing like that but there is something I need to tell you. Shall we go for a walk?’ Grace suggested nervously.

  Dylan frowned but nodded as he followed her out of the door.

  ‘So … what is it?’ he asked when they were some way from the cottage. It was then that Grace noticed he was carrying a small bunch of flowers and she gulped.

  Slowly she began to tell him what she was planning to do and as she talked she saw the colour drain from his face.

  He looked bewildered. ‘But why would you want to be a nun?’ he gasped. ‘I thought our future was mapped out for us.’

  ‘That’s the problem … you thought it was.’ Grace hated to hurt him but there was no alternative. ‘I don’t want to get married, Dylan … not to anyone. I feel that becoming a bride of Christ is my destiny and I’m sure you’ll meet someone else in time. Someone who will love you as you deserve to be loved.’

  ‘No, I bloody well won’t!’ he spat as his face turned ugly. ‘I love you, damn it! Isn’t there anything I can do to change your mind?’

  Grace shook her head. There was nothing left to say and with a snarl he tossed the flowers at her feet and stormed off. Tears stung her eyes. She had hated to shatter his dreams but it was time to follow her own dream now. She watched until he was out of sight, then with a heavy heart she turned and made her way back to the cottage.

  ‘It’s time for you to go,’ Aunt Gertie said the next morning. ‘But just remember there’s always a home here for you should you change your mind.’ Gertie always found it hard to express her feelings but they showed in the tears that were spangling her eyelashes.

  Grace nodded as she stood clutching the small bag that was all she was allowed to take with her. It contained a nightdress and a small selection of underwear. Anything else she needed would be supplied by the convent.

  The Llewelyns both looked upset but Grace was not about to be swayed from her decision by anyone.

  Grace kissed her aunt then did the same to the Llewelyns before walking quietly away. This was the bit she had been dreading but she could see no point in prolonging the agony.

  ‘I’ll be back to see you in a month’s time. Meanwhile you know where I am if there is any news from home.’

  Gertie nodded as Grace set off with her eyes straight ahead.

  Once up at the convent she was shown to the Reverend Mother’s office. ‘Ah, Grace,’ she greeted her. ‘Sister Agnes will show you to the postulants’ quarters, although as I explained you will not be classed as a postulant straightaway. You are very young so I wish to make sure that this is what you truly want before we move on to that stage. You will spend the next six months in prayer, taking instructions from Father Luke and working about the convent.’

  ‘Yes, mother.’

  ‘Good, then off you go. Sister Agnes will supply you with sufficient clothing. There is no need for your hair to be shorn until you take the veil but from now on it must be discreetly tied back at all times. The only toiletries you will be allowed to use is unperfumed soap, which again we will supply. Is that clear?’

  ‘Yes, mother.

  The elderly nun nodded and Sister Agnes led her to a small wing attached to the back of the convent. Inside there were a number of small cell-like rooms, one of which she allocated to Grace. It was somewhat bleaker than she had expected it to be and was so tiny she could touch the walls if she extended her arms. All it contained was an iron-framed bed and a tiny chest of drawers on which stood a plain white pottery jug and bowl for washing. The walls were whitewashed and completely bare save for a crucifix above the bed. The floor was tiled and the single blanket a dull grey colour. It was a far cry from the luxurious bedroom she had back in her home town, or the pretty little room with the chintz curtains she had made her own back at Aunt Gertie’s, but Grace didn’t mind. Even so it felt cold, despite the warm temperature outside, and she wondered what it would be like in the winter.

  ‘You may put the things you have brought with you in there. ’ Sister Agnes pointed to the small chest of drawers. ‘And while you are doing that I will go and find you two dresses and some suitable shoes.’

  By the time she had returned, Grace had finished her unpacking.

  ‘There is one dress to wear and one to wash. You will take your turn in the laundry each week with the postulants who are responsible for the convent’s laundry. And you will change the sandals you are wearing for these. Those you have on are most unsuitable.’ She glared disapprovingly down at Grace’s pretty sandals and placed a clunky, ugly, leather-strapped pair onto the bed along with two plain light-grey shift dresses that turned out to be completely shapeless and very unflattering.

  ‘There is no place for vanity in the House of God,’ the nun told her primly as she saw Grace looking at the dresses. ‘The next six months will be spent teaching you to let go of the material world.’

  ‘Yes, sister.’

  The sister nodded. ‘Good, now get changed and when you are ready I will take you to the chapel for Bible study. You will then join the postulants for lunch, and this afternoon will be spent in prayer. Tomorrow you will be given duties.’

  Grace flushed when she realised that the woman had no intention of leaving the room. Noticing her hesitation, the nun snapped, ‘There is no room for modesty in a nun’s life.’

  Grace hastily cast off her skirt and blouse and tugged the ugly dress over her head. It was far too large for her but Sister Agnes merely handed her a length of string to use as a belt. Another shorter length was used to secure her unruly curls at the nape of her neck, and finally she slid her feet into the cumbersome sandals. They were clearly well worn and very heavy but Grace made no complaint. She followed the sister to the tiny chapel that she loved where she was given a Bible to study and left to her own devices. For the first hour she sat quietly, content to read, but then she found her eyes constantly straying to the stained-glass window above the small altar. The sun was shining through it casting rainbows across the walls and she suddenly had a yearning to be outside. She quickly turned her attention back to the book in front of her. What sort of nun was she going to make, she wondered worriedly, if she couldn’t even spend a morning studying the Good Book?

  At lunchtime, she joined the postulants for a meal in a small dining hall. They were each given a small dish of lamb cawl, a popular Welsh stew, but it was watery and the meat was so gristly that Grace could barely chew it. It was nothing at all like the delicious cawl that Mrs Llewelyn made. On top of that, it was almost cold by the time they had said lengthy prayers but Grace was hungry so she forced it down anyway. They were given water to drink, then after more prayers Grace was sent back to the chapel to spend the afternoon in yet more prayers. For the first hour, she was quite content. Outside she could hear the other postulants working in the garden but as the afternoon progressed she found her concentration slipping. She had always enjoyed praying but she was fast discovering that to have to pray for a whole afternoon was not as easy as she had thought it would be. By teatime she had to admit that she was bored and already she was beginning to wonder if she was cut out for this life. By the time Sister Agnes came to collect her for her evening meal, Grace was close to tears.

  She expected the sister to be angry with her but in actual fact she was quite the opposite. ‘Did you find it difficult?’ She smiled as she noted Grace’s glum expression. ‘Don’t worry, my child. It takes time to leave the outside world behind. That’s what this period is for. Believe me, it will get easier and one day you will come to enjoy the time you spend in prayer.’

  Grace felt slightly better as she blinked back tears. She was actually missing her aunt and the Llewelyns and feeling quite isolated and she felt guilty for that too, as she admitted to the elderly nun. The whole day had been nothing like she had expected. Nanny Donovan had taught her that bathing and the changing of clothes s
hould always be a private affair and so she had found changing in front of the nun very uncomfortable.

  ‘That too is natural in the early days,’ the woman assured her. ‘You have chosen a new path in life, vastly different to the one you have known, which is why the Reverend Mother is giving you this trial time to decide if it really is the one you wish to take. She is very wise. But now come and have your evening meal and be aware that this evening we have taken a vow of silence for the duration of the meal, apart from the prayer that will be said before.’

  After lengthy prayers, everything was unnaturally silent in the dining room – the only sound being that of the cutlery that the postulants were laying on the tables. After a time, they all rose and formed a queue and were served with their meal, which Grace discovered was the main meal of the day. There were jugs of milk on the table, which she supposed was better than the water they had been given at lunchtime, and the meal was slightly better too, although it still left a lot to be desired and the portions were meagre. Thankfully Grace was petite so she didn’t have an enormous appetite which she supposed was just as well. They were each given a spoonful of boiled potatoes which she soon discovered were still slightly hard in the middle, along with cabbage that had been boiled almost to death. Added to this was a spoonful of peas and a pork chop that was surprisingly tasty. Grace ate most of the peas and all of the chop but she struggled with the cabbage and potatoes and left most of it. For dessert they were served half a roast pear with a spoonful of cream each and Grace quite enjoyed that, although she found the silence eerie. At last the meal was over and Sister Agnes descended on her.