Read Online Then Came Heaven by Lavyrle Spencer - Free Book Online

...  can I... can I what?
    A fold of her habit was caught under her right knee. She rocked the knee and intensified the pain, offering it up as penance for her wayward thoughts, seeking selflessness, finding instead that her mind was filled with images of Anne and Lucy and their father. Had he gone home to them now? To that yellow brick house that could be seen from the main comer of town, where his family and Krystyna’s had undoubtedly gathered? Would he cry in his bed tonight without her? Would the children? What was it like to love someone that way and lose them?
    Sister Regina was surprised when meditation ended. She couldn’t believe thirty minutes had passed, but Mother Agnes rose and led the silent departure from the chapel, the line of women descending the steps in single file and gathering in the refectory at their accustomed places. They began with grace, led by Sister Gregory, their prayer leader this week. She called for a special blessing on the soul of Krystyna Olczak and on her family. Then their simple supper began—beef stew tonight, served over boiled noodles with a side dish of pickled beets, grown in their own garden and pickled by Sister Ignatius, and fresh white bread, baked by her that afternoon.
    Sister Samuel said, “It’s very sad about Krystyna Olczak. We will miss her.”
    Sister Cecilia said, “She bought us our last fifty-pound sack of flour and had Mr. Olczak empty it into the bin. She was a generous woman, the kind you’d like to see live a long life.”
    “Never missed a church bazaar or a bake sale,” Sister Ignatius added.
    Reverend Mother spoke up. “Though we’ll all miss Mrs. Olczak, we must not question the Lord’s will in taking her.”
    Sister Regina said, “Why not?” And seven forks stopped in midair.
    Sister Regina knew immediately she should have held her tongue. Poor Sister Samuel was staring so hard it looked as if her crossed eyes might switch sockets.
    The opportunity was too juicy for Sister Cecelia to resist.
    “Even though you have both of her children in your room, Sister, you know what Holy Rule says.”
    “But this was a special friend. Mr. Olczak’s wife. Someone who took special care to... to... to see to our needs.” Sister Dora nudged her under the table, but she persisted. “Tell me, Sister Cecelia, didn’t she give you a ride to Long Prairie the last time you needed your teeth fixed?”
    “Yes, she did. But that doesn’t mean I would question—”
    “I believe...” Mother Agnes stepped in, nipping this exchange in the bud. “... that at evening prayer we’ll say a Litany for the Faithful Departed.”
    And so the talk about Krystyna was silenced and Sister Mary Charles brought up an article in the  St. Cloud Visitor,  the weekly diocesan newspaper, regarding a proposed decency rating for movies. While the talk revolved around the benefit such a rating would have for the schoolchildren, the meal proceeded as usual. Sister Samuel sneezed on the bowl of stew, rubbed her nose with her hanky afterward and tucked it out of sight up her sleeve. Sister Cecelia left the table and went to get desserts. Sister Gregory held up a hand, refusing her apple cobbler, which the old cook put before her anyway. When the meal ended, Gregory’s dish was as empty as everyone else’s.
    Each member of the community was assigned a charge—a duty—each week, by Mother Agnes. Those whose charge was dish washing this week went off to do them and help Sister Ignatius clean up the kitchen. Afterward they joined the others for evening recreation in the main-floor community room. Recreation time was part of their unwavering schedule. It lasted sixty minutes and everybody was required to be there. Each nun had a drawer on the north wall of the community room, and from the drawers came crocheting, knitting, letter-writing gear and books. Sister Dora read from a volume about the life of Saint Theresa, the Little Flower, while everyone worked on whatever they liked.