by Jane Aimee
A tear dropped from Daphne's left eye, followed by a smile, causing Bethany's eyes to swell with tears. There was a pause.
"That was seven years ago."
"But you truly repented," Bethany said. "Why would God still be holding that against you?"
It was Daphne's turn to be surprised. "What do you mean? My recommitment to God wasn't a covenant for a husband. He's my God. I needed to make things right with Him."
Another pause followed.
"I know a Christian sister almost my age, still single and she's never known a man. And then there are others who lived like I did or maybe worse, but today they are happily married. You can't affix a general cause to every situation. God doesn't hold my past against me. I think I appreciate His love for me more now than before."
Bethany was still staring. Daphne continued. "I did actually meet a good guy just after that, but our perspectives on major spiritual and social issues were so opposite that we had to go our separate ways. That's the same time I gained admission into the Teacher Training College."
The two hawks walking on the roof of the house from which they'd come out broke the silence in which the two ladies were immersed.
Some things about Daphne began to make sense to Bethany. She began to understand the reason for the frankness and the intensity of emotions with which Big sis had spoken after hearing what Mrs. Gotlieb had said to Bethany.
"I wish I had known better," Daphne broke the silence. "I wish I knew when I got born again what I now know. That is why Bethy, you must be careful about panic mode. It never results in good. If you act out of panic, there's a high probability for regrets afterwards."
Turning to face her friend, Daphne looked straight into her eyes, seeking to emphasize the point she had just made. She gave a little pause after each sentence.
"Be careful about panic mode.
"Pray, and be expectant, but not in a way that you are ready to clasp in your grip the next man who shows up, caring less of who they are.
"It's very easy to compromise standards when one is in panic mode.
"While you wait, go about your dreams and find, or why, even create opportunities to make life worthwhile for yourself and others.
"Dig up that vision you have buried and get busy with it; lessen your pressures by diverting some of that mental energy you use in worrying, into doing what God has put in your heart.
"I think you should accompany me next time to Home For Girls at Moyaka."
"Is it wrong to try online dating opportunities?" Bethany asked. "I mean Christian dating sites."
"I don't believe it's sinful or wrong."
Daphne took a last look at the apartment. She felt sad for the occupant whose longstanding emotional state, now coupled with the hormonal changes brought about by pregnancy, was a cause for concern.
"Let's pray for Samantha."
"Can we get in the car first?"
They got inside.
"What should we pray for?" Daphne asked.
"I don't really know. Maybe that God will make her admit she's wrong and come back to right fellowship with Him?"
"Okay. Father, we are both shocked and discouraged by what our sister has done. You are a loving and gracious Father. Lord, we ask for the ministry of the Holy Spirit upon the heart of our sister. Lord, we ask that you enable her to make things right with you. And Father, we are equally concerned about her emotional state." Daphne began to sob. Bethany, with tears in her eyes, continued the prayer.
"Dear Father…
Chapter Eleven: A ring on my finger
Bethany was enamored with the eloquence and mastery of self of the female presenter. They called her Zillah, of the national headquarters of the City Investment Trust, situated in Cité. Each time their company organized a national conference, Zillah would be a speaker, and Bethany greatly enjoyed her oratorical abilities. She felt proud of her – for what reason, she couldn't tell. Maybe because she was a young woman like her. And the audience's nods were enough to say everyone enjoyed not only the facts being given but the way they were presented.
The lady from Beaumont carved a mental scene of how she would compliment the presenter on her performance during recess.
Zillah said something and there was a thunderous applause. While she waited for it to die down, she unconsciously began to caress her ring finger, turning the golden band several times around her finger with her right thumb.
The act caught Bethany's full attention and a bout of envy and resentment sprang up from within. All admiration evaporated into the air.
That ring meant Zillah – who was a year or more, younger than her – was married. She was newly married.
The Spirit Woman on the inside (in reality, her spirit person. This voice had recently become more and more perceptible) whispered, "those are wrong thoughts, and you know it," but Bethany indulged them nonetheless.
Her resentment appeared justifiable. She was not certain if Zillah was born-again or not; and even if she were, her zeal for the Lord was non-existent. Bethany had spoken with her the last time they were together about the things of the Lord and from Bethany's assessment, Zillah didn't understand the basics of the faith, though she attended church.
What has that got to do with getting married? The Spirit Woman asked. Why are you slow in learning this? Bethany had no answer, remembering Daphne's words during the similar Mavis case.
But she still had a complaint. Why do the less spiritual persons seem to get blessed more than I? She replied with a question.
Aren't you blessed, Bethy? The Spirit Woman asked.
Bethany stared at her left hand and imagined how beautiful it would look with that golden band on the ring finger.
No longer aware of her environment, she lifted her hand from the table, held it closer to her chest. She looked admiringly at the invisible ring on it.
I want a ring on my finger. Then the mental picture turned to her wedding day. Mr. Right – tall, dark and handsome– slid the shiny circle of gold down her slender manicured finger, with a broad smile on his face that revealed his impeccable dentition.
Aunt Juddy, the Spirit Woman reminded her.
It was a painful thought.
Aunt Juddy was a maternal aunt, a highly spiritual woman with whom Bethany had stayed during her university days and some years after she graduated. One time, the young girl was grieving over Marc, who had just walked away from her life with no explanation.
Aunt Juddy consoled, pleaded and rebuked for a long time, but her words fell like water on a duck's back; the broken heart continued to mourn and would refuse refreshment for many a day.
Desperate and exasperated, Aunt Juddy had finally told the grieving girl very bluntly: "Any man can give you a ring, but not every ring giver is a good mate. And that is the last I would say on this issue!"
Any man can give you a ring, but not every ring giver is a good mate, the words rang loudly in the distracted mind, whose gaze was still on the hand, now placed back on the table. When she had recovered from the grief, those words used to sound sweet to her ears. But that was six years ago. Things had changed with the passage of time.
Any man's ring is sure better than no man's ring at the end of the day. I want a ring on my finger. The Condemner laughed and replied her wish, you'll have to buy one and put it there yourself.
Bethany was humiliated by the mockery. She was about to tell the guy off, when a round of applause jarred her back to the conference hall. Zillah was stepping down the podium, amidst a standing ovation.
Bethany felt ashamed; as far as she could see, she alone was seated among the more than fifty participants.
You really do need to be ashamed of yourself, the Condemner agreed. You know well how to judge Samantha for a crime you are guilty of too, only on a smaller scale.
I didn't judge Samantha! Bethany fired back, but the foul and loud-mouthed guy was not about to be silenced. O yes, you did!
Bethany reasoned it was unimportant at that moment whether
she had judged Samantha or whether she had just been shocked at her actions. The panic in her heart was disturbing.
Chapter Twelve: Ms. Loretta of Moyaka
Moyaka, twenty miles northeast of Beaumont city was home to the Home For Girls, a residence for abandoned and vulnerable girls, sited along the Kembi-Bay—Cité highway.
It was 9:25 am one Saturday morning in mid-July when Daphne turned from the highway and into the gate of the large compound.
Two girls – accompanied by a tan German Shepherd that barked fiercely – fought to open the iron gate. Many of the girls came running, eager to bid welcome to their Auntie as the car made its way into the driveway and turned to park from across the buildings.
Daphne picked them up in her arms – they loved her greatly – while Bethany remained in the car until one of the children asked Glory, the dog, to stay away. Then the young lady came out with wide eyes, fully longing to have a feel of the Home.
The three buildings that constituted The Home For Girls were of stone and baked brick, with corrugated green-colored iron roofing, built in a rectangular form. The largest building in the middle was a bungalow, with a vertical attachment that served as the kitchen. The smaller rectangular structures facing each other were respectively, the storehouse and the laundry house.
The lawn was considerably large and contained installations for children games: two slides, four swings and a merry-go-round.
Ms. Loretta came out of the kitchen wearing an apron and a scarf. She was a tall black lady in her late forties. She had a broad smile that said she was more than happy to have the visitors.
The smell of nutmeg greeted them as she took each lady in her embrace. "Daphne, It's always a blessing to have you around. It's been a long time."
"I've been very busy. We just finished marking the End of Course Examinations."
"I forgot what time of the year this is!"
"Meet Bethany, my friend."
Ms. Loretta welcomed Bethany again. She then took a look at Daphne's car –the teacher had told her about the purchase but that was the first time she was seeing the car. Ms. Loretta congratulated her while remarking that she would be expecting more frequent visits to the Home. The guardian lady then took them inside the main building.
The large living room was scantily furnished. There was one long dining table, on which lay many different types of books and writing materials. A heap of toys was mounted beside the door. A baby cot stood near the table in which lay fourteen months old Grace, fast asleep.
"Please make yourselves comfortable," Ms. Loretta said, pulling out two dining chairs from under the table.
Daphne stood beside the cot and remarked about Grace: "She's grown so much."
"Yes," Ms. Loretta agreed, coming closer to have a look at the sleeping baby. "And getting mature too: the crying has really subsided."
"She's gotten acquainted with this love-immersed atmosphere. Before she was brought here, she could tell that she was not wanted. Children can detect those emotions."
"Daphne, you seemed to know much about children."
"I read it in some book."
Bethany was seated at the table, already deeply impressed with what she saw.
"Bethany, we'll have time later to sit and talk. You can make yourself comfortable with some of those children's books. I have cookies to cut and place in the oven. Please Daphne, come with me."
Daphne asked if Bethany would rather come with them to the kitchen. She shook her head, wanting to see the pictures on the wall.
Daphne followed Ms. Loretta out into the kitchen and Bethany got up to take a look at the pictures.
There were several photographs –Ms. Loretta's college years, outreaches with the children, girls who had passed through the Home, visitors both black and white – but the most remarkable photograph was that of a young Loretta Bale with a tiny baby in her arms. The beautiful features of the lady when she was younger hadn't changed much.
There were also notes and drawings pasted on the lower parts of the walls – evidently done by the children – most of which praised Mummy Loretta. Bethany read them slowly, imbibing not just the beauty of the sentences but also the feelings which such words could have on the giver as well as the receiver.
The readings finished, she moved outside to the lawn and watched the kids on the playground and on the guava trees at the far end of the Home's borders. She counted them – twenty one in all. Their ages ranged from little Grace in the crib to the oldest girl in the kitchen, who was in her late teens. There was no doubt in their expressions that they were really at home.
Wanting to get engaged with them, Bethany went to the swings and helped push one after the other, as many as would want to get an amount of the new Auntie's generosity.
An hour later, Ms. Loretta gave the signal and everyone ran to the tap at the laundry area to wash their hands before going into the living room for the cookies. The four baskets of the freshly baked food were instantly emptied and the kids immediately went back to playing.
Ms. Loretta attached Grace, who had been awakened by the noisy assembly, unto her back with a cloth. Calling on the two older girls to get baskets, she led the way behind the building. There was to be found the poultry and pen, garden and maize farm.
Another German Shepherd guarded the area behind the buildings. Hundreds of chicken were in the poultry, with scores of hens having broods. The goats had been tethered down beside the farm. The garden, fenced with sugar cane, had ridges of huckleberry, carrots, tomatoes, pumpkins, eggplants and different spices. The one hectare farm below the garden had maize in full ears.
Ms. Loretta instructed the girls to harvest huckleberry while she took the two ladies down to the maize farm.
"Daphne, thank you once again for the gifts," Ms. Loretta said. "We were down to our last jug of wheat flour, and maize."
"It's my pleasure, Ms. Loretta."
"So here we are. It's been a good year. The maize has done well. You pluck the quantity you can carry."
"You are welcome again Bethany," Ms. Loretta said, indicating it was a convenient time to talk. "What has Daphne told you about the Home."
Bethany smiled. Daphne had said much, which she could not certainly recount in a few minutes. "Summarily, she said I will be inspired when I meet you." She paused before adding, "And I am. The atmosphere here breathes out much holy inspiration."
"You should come here during the academic period," Daphne said, "then you can really talk about holy inspiration. Now the kids are much into playing."
"How long have you been doing this Ms. Loretta?" Bethany had been eager to hear the inspiration behind the creation of the Home from the visionary herself.
"From a very young age I had this desire to help the vulnerable young girl – I hated to see all the cases of abandoned or molested girls and I always fantasized of doing something about it. When I got born-again in secondary school, I would sometimes think about doing something to help the young girl child. But later on – especially as I headed to college – that desire was slipping away when God got my full attention. I read a book by one American lady, Cornelia Anderson –Who Will Go? –and I knew that this is what God wanted me to dedicate my life to. I then majored in Education and later did my Masters in Child Psychology. I have been active for eighteen years."
Ms. Loretta listened as the stems bowed to the breeze. There was a concern on her face. "I don't believe I've done much, given that length of time. The school project is yet to see the light of day."
"He who started the good work will complete it," Daphne reassured. She knew Ms. Loretta was prone to worrying about the likelihood of not accomplishing all that was in her heart before her active years were over.
"Amen," Ms. Loretta agreed.
"Did you have any objections – maybe from family or friends – when you decided to dedicate your life to the raising of abandoned girls?" Bethany asked. Ms. Loretta's reply in the negative was surprising until she added what the young lady believed would
have been probable.
"But when it became clear that I wasn't going to settle down with a man and have biological children, my mother and my friends became greatly concerned. You know I'm from this part of the country, though I studied in the U.S. It's unusual, the pattern of life I have chosen, except when one is a reverend sister. My mother tried to talk me into organizing the Home in such a way that I would have time for myself – that is, for my own family – but my heart was deeply into this. I couldn't bring myself to agree to her plan. She has come to accept the way I have chosen to live."
Bethany was not sure her mother would approve of her taking such a route. She too wasn't sure if she could do that. But she greatly admired Ms. Loretta. "If you were Roman Catholic, you would surely get canonized: St. Loretta of Moyaka.
Everyone laughed. Ms. Loretta humbly received the compliment. Daphne added, "It wouldn't be undeserved. Many girls that have passed through her hands are a testimony. And many more are sure to do so."
"What are some of the difficulties you have?" Bethany asked.
Our two most important needs are feeding and tuition for the kids. Some of the girls have left the Home but they are still under our care. And then there is the perennial problem of having regular hands, like a cook or people to work on the farm and with the animals, especially when the kids go to school. I desire, by the grace of God, to construct a school within the premises, not just for the kids in the Home but for children around the neighborhood."
"Mummy! Mummy!" One of the little girls came calling from the house. "Some persons are here to see you."
"Tell them I'm coming," Ms. Loretta replied. "Daphne, Bethany, let's go see who it is."
At the gate was a Toyota Hilux. The driver came in and talked with Ms. Loretta. He and the guy with him, together with the women and some of the children took the contents of the pickup into the storehouse. They were bags and cartons of food stuff and toiletries.
Back in the house, Ms. Loretta showed Bethany around. Each of the four bedrooms had three bunk beds, large enough to have two or more children sleep on, with mosquito nets tucked in. There was the clothes room, where all dresses were kept, to avoid littering the bedrooms. Ms. Loretta shared her room with Grace and the very young among the children.
