Chapter 4: Chapter 4

Reverend Grace appeared to have stumbled on the elixir that offered her a new freshness and lease of life. The life, verve and the enthusiasm with which she did her work have since redoubled. Whenever she talked to anyone, a perpetual smile hovered on her face, revealing her bonny set of dimples. In all these years she had been a nun, she had lived her life speckled by works of monotony, that made the circle of her life most predictable. It would not be contemptuous nor impious, to say at best, that the life she lived doing the work of God had been a bit ho-hum. She was stuck in the rut, and the stultifying work that lacked spice and variety. So she had always craved for something new, a challenge that would give her a renewed sense of adventure, and add some spark to her boring life.

Last week, when she was unwell, because of the ailment that made her buttocks ache from the pain of the sharp needles, little did she know it was a precedent to the answer to her wish and prayers. And suddenly, her blessing and reward had come in the form of an abandoned child. She was now keen on keeping the child and far readier than ever to be a babysitter. But there were still some obstacles on the way. She was still uncertain of the name she would call the child that would sound ‘Christian’ and reflect the circumstance of his life. However, that was not the biggest hurdle. The biggest was the curious sense of unease of what the Bishop would think of the child. She did not have the privilege or the right to keep him. Neither was she answerable to herself, but to the Bishop. Her principal work was to pray and do the work of God for which she took the vows to perform.

That blessed morning when she stood before the congregation, in her sparkling habit and took the vows before God and man; she laid down the privilege to feel the warmth of a man and the joys of motherhood. And if suddenly she had decided to take up the duty of a mother, it was a violation of that sacred vow. However, she knew in her heart that the choice to keep the child was not in her hands. It was the Bishop’s to decide. And if she was planning on defying him, then that was contumacious, especially for a nun of her stature. But she had thought about it thoroughly. The Bishop was not a feisty, but a discerning man. The situation was then like a blank canvas on which she could project her own picture and make assumptions.

Reverend Grace was sitting at the edge of the bed in a pensive mood, when Reverend Joy snucked in, and jolted her out of her deep thoughts. She startled her. Since the child was found, Reverend Joy always came around to see him. The excitement in the convent had been great. Reverend Grace loved the child so much and her decision to keep him was firm.

‘Good Afternoon! Reverend Grace,’ Reverend Joy said, smiling. ‘How is our little man? I have come to see him.’

‘Reverend Joy,’ Reverend Grace said. ‘I know you have. Unfortunately, your little man is sleeping,’ she said, smiling at her.

‘Does that mean I won’t have the chance to carry him today? I must be unlucky,’ Reverend Joy said, wearing a long face.

‘You’re not unlucky, dear sister,’ Reverend Grace replied. ‘In fact, you’ve come at the best time. I am thinking of the name I will call him.’ There was a glorious smile on Reverend Grace’s face as she looked at Reverend Joy.

‘Is that so?’ Reverend Joy said. ‘What have you decided to call him then?’

‘I’ve been thinking really hard for days now. I just want a name that would reflect the circumstance of his birth. I think I have settled for one. I want to call him Moses,’ Reverend Grace said, grinning.

‘Moses? Why did you choose that?’ Reverend Joy asked, staring at Reverend Grace.

‘Can’t you see why?’ Reverend Grace said in between mirth. ‘You have to think hard.’

‘Oh, I see,’ Reverend Joy said finally. ‘I understand now. Moses was left by his mother, though intentionally and was found by a kind-hearted princess. I think the same thing happened here. That’s genius of you, you know?’ she added, her face beaming with a smile.

‘You’re spot-on! But that’s not all. You see, though the other one was drawn out of water and this one was picked from the rubble, both are princely boys,’ Reverend Grace added, relishing the moment.

‘I couldn’t agree more. Now I will have to call him Moss. I hope he wouldn’t mind if I called him that?’ Reverend Joy said.

‘I think he won’t. I think it will make him smile,’ Reverend Grace said, her eyes twinkling. They laughed for a few minutes, and then there was a fleeting silence. Then Reverend Joy spoke again, breaking the stillness with her troubled words.

‘I don’t know, but this bothers me,’ she said, wiping her mouth daintily. ‘What do you think would be the Bishop’s take on the child?’ Reverend Joy’s voice was thin and somber.

‘I still do not know,’ Reverend Grace replied languidly. ‘I will see him later in the day. We have a meeting. I want to remain hopeful it will go my way. My victory to keep this child will be a victory for all abandoned children in the world. You should pray for me that God should finish what He has started.’

‘Of course, I’ll pray for you and the child. Both of you are a perfect match, and you stand for a good cause. Darkness must never be allowed to overshadow light. I can see how much you love the child and I can only pray that the Bishop grants you your heart desire,’ Reverend Joy said soulfully.

‘Thank you for backing me,’ Reverend Grace said, fondling Reverend Joy’s arm as she smiled at her genially. Last night, she had dreamed she bathed, powdered, sang sweet lullabies, cuddled and kissed the child to sleep, and she could feel it in her heart that her dream was on the brink of coming true.

‘Do not thank me. It’s nothing,’ Reverend Joy said. ‘I shall be on my way. I have to go to the chapel and pray, and then have a nap. I feel a little weary.’

‘That’s good. Prayer is our food. It’s the believer’s weapon of warfare; the nap too will do your health a lot of good,’ Reverend Grace said, supporting. Reverend Joy smiled and bade her goodbye, while Reverend Grace sat on her steely armchair mending some old clothes.

When the heat of the sun softened, Reverend Grace climbed into her car and drove to see the Bishop. The Bishop was a tall and light-complexioned man, with a small frame. His face showed he must have been extremely handsome in his youth. The Bishop was sitting on his plump chair, leaning forwards and reading the missal when Reverend Grace walked into his office. The Bishop’s office was one of Reverend Grace’s favorite places because it had a peculiar scent she loved. She had been at the office several times to see him whenever they were crucial matters to discuss, especially the ones bordering on the convent. Strangely, the scent in the office was indifferent that evening to her. She sat wearyingly on the chair with a stolid face, facing the Bishop. Turning leisurely on his chair, the Bishop faced her squarely, his eyes deep and piercing. Reverend Grace felt restive.

‘Reverend Grace,’ the Bishop called her in a soft voice, breaking the hush in the room. ‘I’ve heard stories of you and a certain strange child. Is this true?’ Reverend Grace felt nervous, and remained silent for a brief moment. She needed to think of what to say to convince the Bishop, and doing so was not going to be a stroll in the park. Yet she could not tell from where she was finding the faith that she would come through it unscathed. She cleared her throat and replied him calmly, with the calmness that was unusual in her.

‘His Lordship, what you have heard is true,’ she said finally, pausing for a brief moment, as the words floated in the silent air of the office. ‘I found a baby, and he’s at the convent as we speak.’ The Bishop reclined slowly on his chair and folded his arms across his breasts. He pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose and fixed his stare unflinchingly on Reverend Grace.

‘You’re an abbess, Reverend Grace,’ he said finally, breaking the silence. ‘You of all people should know what to do with such a child. You should take him to one of our motherless babies’ homes. The child will be fine there. That’s why we have such places and donate handsomely to them.’ The bishop’s words were flat and depressing.

‘I know, His Lordship,’ Reverend Grace replied. ‘But I’ve come to confer with you on what would be best for the child. I’ve come to ask for your consent to keep him and to be his mother. I want to raise him, coach him, love him and be a godly mother to him.’ The Bishop remained serious and silent on his chair. Reverend Grace’s nerve stung him really hard, like the bee.

‘Reverend Grace, I am surprised at you. I wouldn’t have believed you’d ask for a thing like that. You and I know what you ask for is not permissible,’ the Bishop said, after finding his voice. ‘You are a nun, and you do not have the privilege to that. We all sacrificed the right to that when we took our sacred vows before God and the church. You’re already a mother; you should be content with that.’

‘Indeed, it’s true. I took the sacred vow to sacrifice my womanhood for the service of God and humanity, but does that vow say I cannot be a mother to a child that I did not give birth to? All my life I’ve served the church and God, and I can say I’ve been faithful in my work. But this helpless child chose to come to me, I did not choose him. I believe in what we say that everything happens for a purpose. If we cast this child away into the cold, are we not going against what we took the vows to perform?’ The Bishop leaned forward on his chair and shifted the small red cap that perched precariously on his head; his face was expressionless. Reverend Grace studied the Bishop thoughtfully, and felt he had been touched by her sound argument; just as she watched him run his hand nervously on the missal on the table. True to her thought, her dialogue was sound and wise. It softened the Bishop’s stance.

‘I must agree that your argument is wise and solid,’ the Bishop said finally, with a serious face. ‘However, granting you the privilege to keep the child will encroach on your work as the mother of the convent. Or do I need to remind you that the job of raising a child is easy? A hunter who is preparing to kill an elephant should be prepared to carry it.’

‘His Lordship, a child, especially a small, helpless one, is the child of everyone. A candle cannot lose its brightness by lighting other candles. If this child has found someone that is willing to give him the love and care he needs, then it would be unjust and cruel to deny him of such a privilege. His Lordship, I would love to raise this child. It’s a part of my sacred vows and service to humanity. If you deny me this, you have denied me the chance to do my work,’ Reverend Grace finished. The Bishop coughed throatily, and wiped his mouth with the handkerchief on his table. He pushed the missal aside, unfolded his arms and stared intently at Reverend Grace.

‘I can see you’re not ready to let up. However, you must remember you have a lot of work to do. Besides, your incessant ailments these days do not do you any favors. I do not wish to obstruct the work of God, but it behooves on me to give you the advice you need. I do not wish to see you and God’s work suffer. But I can see you are really headstrong on this matter,’ he said, waving a finger teasingly at Reverend Grace. ‘You may need to sleep over this, but if you think you are up to it, then you can keep the child,’ the Bishop said. Reverend Grace’s face broke with a beautiful smile. She buried her face in her hands as hot tears streamed on her face. There were the tears of bliss and triumph. She was deeply elated to have gotten her wish, and of course, the will of heaven.

‘I do not want to be seen as the unfeeling Bishop that drove away some poor mite! If people hear it; it would question our faith. It will hand our critics a moral victory. You have served the church well. Maybe it’s high time you started reaping the rewards here on earth. I hope we’d look back in the future and see that what we’ve done is the right thing,’ the Bishop finished.

‘It’s the best decision. I am sure it’s all for the best,’ Reverend Grace said, grinning elatedly. She rose from the chair and grabbed her handbag from the chair in a haste to leave, while the Bishop remained on his chair, smiling and staring at Reverend’s Grace’s ecstatic face.

That blissful night, after Reverend Grace returned to the convent, she called all the nuns and told them the delightful news and everyone was ecstatic. The nuns danced jubilantly, singing in the gay and moonlit night. After the excitement of the dewy night, Reverend Grace asked for silence, and with a firm voice that sliced through the heart of the silent night, she spoke to them emphatically.

‘Moses belongs to all of us,’ she said, making a light pause, her words settling in the dewy air. ‘We must remember it takes a whole village to raise a child. This is why we say a child is the child of everyone. We must love and care for him and raise him together. We must never tell him I am not his real mother, for his sake and for mine as well. He is only a child now, but the young shall grow. When he grows he’ll ask many questions. We must never tell him who he really is,’ she warned them.