and on the floor.
Soldiers and families. Up front was a grotto with the Virgin Mary in it. It was deep and looked like it was made with real rocks and it scared me. But I have friends in
school who are Catholic and they tell me that if you are of that religion you are supposed to be scared, about everything.
That goes against the grain of my family, who teach us not to be frightened of anything, that if we are right and good, nothing bad can happen to us.
There were soldiers sleeping all over on the floor of the grotto. It seemed as if the Virgin Mary was watching them ...
Pa went and spoke with the priest. He came back and found us a place in a corner and we settled on a rug near the confessional. He covered us with blankets Mama had brought from our grandparents. James was sleeping already.
"I'm told there's a woman having a baby upstairs," he said to Mama. "I've got to see to her."
Then, without caring who was looking, he took Mama in his arms and kissed her like they'd just been married. And held her close. And whispered something so low even I couldn't hear.
Mama nodded and he held her that way for a long moment.
He released her and looked down at me, quizzically. "You get the urge, confess your sins," he said solemnly. "The priest is right over there."
There was the humor again. Covering what? What did he want to say? "I've got no sins," I said.
He looked down at me for a long minute, taking my
measure until I became uncomfortable. What was coming next? "Only God knows different," he said. "And me."
I said nothing. What did he know? "What had I done?
"Get up when I'm speaking to you," he said.
Oh Lord, not here, not now.
What
had
I done?
I stood before him.
"Don't you know you're supposed to stand in the presence of your commanding officer?" he asked.
"Yessir," I said.
He took off my bonnet and dropped it on the floor. He kissed me on the forehead. He looked into my face as if searching a map to find his way somewhere. Then he tenderly brushed some hair away from my face and tucked it behind my ear.
"Kiss your pa," he ordered.
I stood on tiptoe and kissed the side of his face. He hugged me, picking me up off my feet to do so. It was a hug that needed no words. A hug that said everything. I didn't think he'd ever let me go.
Then he set me down on my feet, and, without looking at me, told me roughly that I had best behave while he was gone, and take care of Mama, and if he heard anything to the contrary I would not sit down for a week.
He'd never spanked me. He was making up for his display of affection. I said, "Yessir."
In the next minute he was gone. And if I had sins, I knew they were forgiven.
Chapter Three
The next morning the good sisters of the church gave us coffee and bread and butter, and it never tasted so wonderful to me in my life.
Pa was gone. He'd left at first light, Mama said, and I felt his loss like a hole inside me. I felt his unseen presence worse. Who would direct us, scold us, tell us to mind? Mama had all she could do to manage herself and the servants.
Easter helped her gather up the blankets, and we took our leave of the church. The nuns had said there were times when we could go outside without chance of being killed.
Life had come down to that, it seemed. Those times were an hour at eight in the morning, an hour at noon, and an hour at eight at night, when the Union artillerymen ate their meals.
We waited until noon and then drove across town to our house, which hadn't been destroyed yet. Mama couldn't control James, who leaped from the surrey and ran up the front steps of the house, and nearly into
Clothilda's arms. She and her husband, Andy, had been keeping the place while we were gone.
"Where is he? Where's Sammy?" James demanded.
"Good Lord, chile, he's out back, takin' in God's good sunlight," Clothilda said.
James bounded through the center hall and out the back door. "Sammy, Sammy, I'm home. I'm here. You don't have to be frightened anymore."
Mama shook
Soldiers and families. Up front was a grotto with the Virgin Mary in it. It was deep and looked like it was made with real rocks and it scared me. But I have friends in
school who are Catholic and they tell me that if you are of that religion you are supposed to be scared, about everything.
That goes against the grain of my family, who teach us not to be frightened of anything, that if we are right and good, nothing bad can happen to us.
There were soldiers sleeping all over on the floor of the grotto. It seemed as if the Virgin Mary was watching them ...
Pa went and spoke with the priest. He came back and found us a place in a corner and we settled on a rug near the confessional. He covered us with blankets Mama had brought from our grandparents. James was sleeping already.
"I'm told there's a woman having a baby upstairs," he said to Mama. "I've got to see to her."
Then, without caring who was looking, he took Mama in his arms and kissed her like they'd just been married. And held her close. And whispered something so low even I couldn't hear.
Mama nodded and he held her that way for a long moment.
He released her and looked down at me, quizzically. "You get the urge, confess your sins," he said solemnly. "The priest is right over there."
There was the humor again. Covering what? What did he want to say? "I've got no sins," I said.
He looked down at me for a long minute, taking my
measure until I became uncomfortable. What was coming next? "Only God knows different," he said. "And me."
I said nothing. What did he know? "What had I done?
"Get up when I'm speaking to you," he said.
Oh Lord, not here, not now.
What
had
I done?
I stood before him.
"Don't you know you're supposed to stand in the presence of your commanding officer?" he asked.
"Yessir," I said.
He took off my bonnet and dropped it on the floor. He kissed me on the forehead. He looked into my face as if searching a map to find his way somewhere. Then he tenderly brushed some hair away from my face and tucked it behind my ear.
"Kiss your pa," he ordered.
I stood on tiptoe and kissed the side of his face. He hugged me, picking me up off my feet to do so. It was a hug that needed no words. A hug that said everything. I didn't think he'd ever let me go.
Then he set me down on my feet, and, without looking at me, told me roughly that I had best behave while he was gone, and take care of Mama, and if he heard anything to the contrary I would not sit down for a week.
He'd never spanked me. He was making up for his display of affection. I said, "Yessir."
In the next minute he was gone. And if I had sins, I knew they were forgiven.
Chapter Three
The next morning the good sisters of the church gave us coffee and bread and butter, and it never tasted so wonderful to me in my life.
Pa was gone. He'd left at first light, Mama said, and I felt his loss like a hole inside me. I felt his unseen presence worse. Who would direct us, scold us, tell us to mind? Mama had all she could do to manage herself and the servants.
Easter helped her gather up the blankets, and we took our leave of the church. The nuns had said there were times when we could go outside without chance of being killed.
Life had come down to that, it seemed. Those times were an hour at eight in the morning, an hour at noon, and an hour at eight at night, when the Union artillerymen ate their meals.
We waited until noon and then drove across town to our house, which hadn't been destroyed yet. Mama couldn't control James, who leaped from the surrey and ran up the front steps of the house, and nearly into
Clothilda's arms. She and her husband, Andy, had been keeping the place while we were gone.
"Where is he? Where's Sammy?" James demanded.
"Good Lord, chile, he's out back, takin' in God's good sunlight," Clothilda said.
James bounded through the center hall and out the back door. "Sammy, Sammy, I'm home. I'm here. You don't have to be frightened anymore."
Mama shook
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