La Strada Da Seguire: The Road to Follow

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La Strada Da Seguire: The Road to Follow Page 2

by Susan Toscan


  It seems to take ages. Each contraction takes over my body, and the pain is unbearable. Later Mum would tell me that from the time I started to push, it was only a few minutes until my little girl was born.

  A tiny dark-haired baby girl looks wide-eyed at her grandmother and me as if she were taking in her surroundings. I am exhausted and hugely relieved that it is all over. I finally have my little girl in my arms, and suddenly all of the pain is put into perspective—this is my reward, and she is so beautiful. How I wish that Michael was here to meet his little girl.

  It will be days before Michael even knows that his daughter has arrived. We had chosen to call her Frances as we had thought that the name would fit a boy or a girl, but I am thrilled that we have a little girl. Frances is letting me know that she is hungry and wants attention, and to my great relief, I find that feeding comes naturally. I am reassured that I am ready to be a mother.

  On 18 May 1935, Michael and I started our family.

  On the fourth day after Frances’s birth, the nurses agree that I can go home. My father had gone to bring the buggy to the door of the hospital, and my mother was called to the nurse’s station to get the discharge papers. As I dress Frances in a pretty pink-and-white dress that Mum had made, I hear a familiar voice in the corridor. I turn to see Michael standing in the doorway.

  We are both in tears as Michael puts his arms around me while I hold our little daughter. “My God, Agnes, she is so beautiful… but so tiny,” is all he can say at first.

  When Michael holds Frances, she looks even smaller in his large hands. She opens her eyes and stares at him. He cradles her in his arms, trying to understand how this little baby could be part of him.

  As I watch father and daughter getting to know each other, I know that I am happy. Even though we are young and certainly would not have planned to have a baby so early in our relationship, I know that we will be all right. We are a family—my family—and with the support of my parents, we will learn to be good parents and raise this child we both love.

  A lucky man

  As they rode home from the hospital to Agnes’s parents’ house in their horse-drawn buggy, Agnes tapped Michael’s arm to get his attention. “It’s strange that I can laugh about this now, but I finally understand my mother’s warning.”

  “What warning was that? The one about staying away from all men?” Michael teased.

  “No, smartarse, the one about only good girls getting caught. I never really understood before—but I was a good girl, and I got caught!” Agnes stopped laughing and for a moment looked serious. “Michael, I’m so glad that you have stood by me. I hope that you don’t have any regrets… because I don’t. I wouldn’t change anything that has happened.”

  Her face brightened again, and a beautiful, cheeky smile lit up her eyes. “But even so, you can be sure that when I issue the same warning to Frances, I will certainly be more specific about the danger lurking in young relationships.”

  Michael raised his eyebrows. “Goodness, yes. Now I can really appreciate what your parents have gone through. Perhaps we should lock Frances up in the tower straight away!”

  Michael was very quiet on the drive to Joe and Elsie’s house. Joe—Agnes’s father—had made sure that the old horse walked very cautiously with the precious cargo on board.

  Agnes held the baby, and Michael sat beside her on the back seat. Agnes knew that her husband had to work through his thoughts and emotions. She had had time to get used to the idea of being a mother, but Michael was only just becoming aware of the reality of being a dad. She quietly asked Michael the question that had only just occurred to her.

  “How did you find out so soon that our baby had arrived?” Agnes hoped her question would break the silence.

  “Your mother sent a rider out to the property on the day that she was born,” Michael explained. “I have to admit to being a little overwhelmed, my love. Actually seeing our little girl—knowing that she is finally here—is amazing, but it’s scary. I know that we talked about how the baby would complicate our lives, but the reality is even more daunting. You seem so confident—and I am feeling exactly the opposite.”

  Agnes put her arms around Michael and just held him. “It’s still scary for me as well. I suppose it looks easier for me since my body has been preparing for this for the last nine months, but please know that my mind is still struggling to deal with all the same things that you are trying to cope with. We will work it out together,” she said as she smiled up at him.

  “I’m sorry, Agnes. I know this is coming out all wrong. Just give me time. I know that I love you; you are the best thing that has happened in my life. I just have to come to terms with the fact that we are parents now. You know that I didn’t have the best role model in my father, so I’m very anxious that I get this right.”

  Agnes tried to reassure him. “Michael, you’ll be a great dad. There are no rules to follow; we just have to love our little girl, and we will learn together. And we have the support of my parents—that’s certainly going to be a big help to both of us.”

  It took a few days, but Michael gradually started to get used to being a father. He would take Frances in his arms and go outside to walk around and talk to her about the birds and the flowers and the other things he could see in the garden. Michael was confident that his daughter knew his voice as she would turn towards him when he spoke. He liked the way this made him feel, and he supposed that eventually the overwhelming love would come. Right now he simply wanted to enjoy being back with Agnes and get used to the fact that they were a family. He only had a week before he had to return to the shed, and the days were passing quickly.

  When he looked at this tiny child, Michael was not sure what he felt. He knew he wanted to protect her, but he was not sure of the love. It seemed to come so naturally to Agnes, who talked constantly about how she loved little Frances. Michael could see that she did. Agnes would spend ages just looking at her, especially when she was feeding her. Although his wife tried to make him feel comfortable, he was very embarrassed by that part of child-rearing. Agnes was confused by Michael’s reluctance and awkwardness, but she did her best to understand and continued trying to help him feel included.

  Agnes planned several outings so that the three of them could be together. When they went into town, people would stop them to look at their beautiful daughter. Even some of the people who had turned up their noses when Agnes and Michael “had” to get married were very curious and wanted to meet their baby. The circumstances of their hasty marriage seemed forgotten now, and it was all because of Frances. Even the parish priest was anxious to christen her, and he was certainly a lot more helpful than he had been when Agnes and Michael wanted to get married.

  Agnes found the world a strange place sometimes, but she generally accepted things as they were. She did not always forgive people for the unkind things they did and said, but she would let it go and knew that in time they would be sorry for their behaviour. Agnes was usually proven right, although this gave her little satisfaction. She could not understand why people needed to be mean and hurtful in the first place.

  Michael Houston and Agnes Kingsley had been married on Melbourne Cup Day, only six months prior to the birth of their baby. It had been a small, casual wedding. Michael had looked very uncomfortable in his suit,—while Agnes had looked very pretty in a dress that her mother had made—although the fullness of the dress did not quite disguise the bride’s pregnancy bump. It was a very joyful day. The family was confident that this young couple was committed to each other and wished them well.

  Renata Messera was there as a bridesmaid, and Michael’s friend Steven Piper was the best man. Agnes’s sister Betty was the flower girl. The other members of the Messera family—“the Italian family” as Agnes always called them—were there to share in the quiet joy of the occasion. They were also keeping a close eye on Renata as they thought that Steven was a bit keen on their daughter. Even though the Italian family had assimilated into
Australian culture and had many good Australian friends, the parents still wanted their daughters to marry Italian men.

  Because Michael’s job meant he would often be away from home, he and Agnes had gone to live with Agnes’s parents, Elsie and Joe, after the wedding. It all worked out very well. Agnes had the support that she needed, although she still found it very difficult knowing that Michael would be gone for much of the time.

  Only a few days after the wedding, Michael had to return to the sheep station. It was the summer of 1934, and the shearing season.

  After spending time getting to know his daughter, it was difficult for Michael to leave his family and return to the shearing shed. Agnes wanted to do something special before Michael’s departure the following day, so she planned a picnic. They packed up the buggy and tucked Frances into a little box that Michael had secured just in front of the seat so that Agnes could watch the baby as she slept. They set off for their favourite picnic spot out by the river; in fact, it was the place where Frances had been conceived. They had a little giggle to themselves about this intimate secret.

  Agnes looked forward to sharing these places with their daughter as she grew up, helping her to understand the beauty of the river and the bush just as her parents had done with her and her sister. She knew that in years to come, her own children could seek and find comfort in that peaceful spot by the Murrumbidgee.

  Agnes had prepared sandwiches for the picnic and had even packed a bottle of wine; her family had learned to appreciate wine thanks to their Italian friends. It was a warm day towards the end of May, but as it usually got quite cold late in the afternoon, the young couple had made an early start so that they could enjoy as much of the day as possible.

  By the time they had reached their special place on the river and set out the picnic, the baby needed to be fed. After Agnes had nursed her, they walked for a while until Frances fell asleep. They put her into her little box in the buggy—the horse had been led away to graze nearby—and settled themselves on the blanket to enjoy the lunch.

  The food was wonderful, and after a glass of wine, they both found that the romance of their young relationship took them back to an earlier moment in their life together. This time, making love was slow and pleasurable for them both, and they felt relaxed and content. The only sadness was the knowledge that Michael would have to leave the next day.

  Agnes sat nestled close to Michael all the way home, and they laughed and talked and made plans for their future. “You know, Agnes, as soon as we can afford it, I really want to get a house on a little farm not too far from town. A place of our own.”

  Agnes was a little uncertain about leaving her parents’ house as she was still so reliant on her mother to help her look after the baby, but the idea of a home that she and Michael could call their own was compelling. Agnes kept her doubts to herself and smiled in agreement.

  As the horse pulled the buggy towards home, Michael found that his mind had wandered. Agnes seemed to be dozing on the seat next to him, and the baby, too, was sleeping soundly.

  He looked at his wife and child and reminded himself what a lucky man he was. Michael had enjoyed this time with his family, getting to know his baby girl. He enjoyed being a husband and a dad, and with all the responsibility that went with those two jobs, he now felt he had truly grown up. He had found his place in the world, and he liked how that felt. Michael was not sure how it would feel to leave Agnes and Frances when he returned to the shearing shed, but he knew that he was a different person from the one who had left just a week ago.

  Elsie

  Elsie and Joe watched their daughter and her husband as the young couple tried to come to terms with being parents and felt very proud of them. They knew that while Michael and Agnes’s future would not be easy, if they worked hard, they would be fine.

  “I worry about them, Joe, but I’m sure they love each other. They just need time to settle and get used to their new roles.” Like her daughter, Elsie was not a tall woman—only 5’ 2”, with dark curly hair and big brown eyes that were wise beyond her years.

  “We did it, my love, and it wasn’t easy for you either. At least Agnes and Michael have us close to them; we left our parents in Wagga Wagga after we were married, and they weren’t well enough to offer us the sort of help that we can give to our girls.” Joe put his big, strong arm around his wife. “One advantage in Agnes having Frances when she is so young is at least it means you and I are only in our mid-40s and still young enough and strong enough to help out.”

  Elsie smiled at her ever-practical husband. They had been married for 20 years. Both of their families were from the Wagga area. Joe had grown up on the land while Elsie had lived in the large town. Elsie had done her nursing training at Wagga Base Hospital, and she and Joe had met through family friends. They had not known each other long before Joe proposed.

  Joe had told her that he knew the sort of woman he wanted to marry and that she had ticked all the boxes for him, so why waste time. Elsie did not think that it was a very romantic proposal at the time, but over the years she had come to realise that Joe was a hard-working, no-nonsense person who always said what he meant. His love had proven that he was all that she wanted in a man. When they were first married, Joe was very thin and lanky, but he had filled out and matured into a very handsome man. Years of hard work had honed his body so that it was muscular and fit. His hair was grey now, but it was still thick and wavy. His soft blue eyes conveyed his gentle nature.

  In the early years of their marriage, it had not been easy for them to leave their families and move to Darlington Point—especially with two small daughters—but they had grown to love the area and had found a new and rewarding life in the community there.

  The small village of Darlington Point was 21 miles from the larger town of Griffith. It fell within the tribal lands of the Wiradjuri people, whose bora ground, or meeting place, was on the south side of the river.

  Nestled on the banks of the Murrumbidgee, Darlington Point was a welcome sight for travellers who were passing through—a good place to get a meal and a bed for the night. There was a pub just a short walk from the jetty where the paddle steamers would dock. Prior to 1905, the paddle steamers would bring supplies up the river to the township, but if the Murrumbidgee River was low in the drier months of the year, the large vessels could not get through. In 1905, a bridge was built, and as the road system improved, supplies were moved by road transport.

  Joe had been a shearer when he and his wife first moved to Darlington Point, but about 10 years after they arrived, he was appointed supervisor and leading hand on the sheep station where he had worked for many years. The family lived in a pretty cottage located on the property. Elsie had made it into a comfortable home.

  In the early days, Elsie was busy with her two daughters, but she soon found that her nursing skills were in great demand in the township as well as the surrounding areas, which did not have a regular doctor. The small hospital in Darlington Point had very limited facilities, and the doctor only passed through the area about once a month. The nearest main hospital was in Griffith, which was a good few hours travel in a buggy, and if an injury or illness was serious, the life was often lost. It was very tough living in a remote country community.

  At first Elsie was asked by the local doctor to help him out by attending to the various small accidents that occurred in the shearing sheds. The rather nasty cuts that could occur in the shearing process would often require stitches. Then, as the community found out about her skills and how capable she was, Elsie was called upon to deal with more serious things. She took great comfort in the people she could help, but mostly she loved being able to help young mothers bring their babies into the world.

  She was particularly interested in working with the local Wiradjuri people, trying to address various health problems in the community as well as providing information about birth control and children’s healthcare.

  At first the Aboriginal community was very angr
y about what its members regarded as Elsie’s interference, but she continued to work with them and tried to learn from them in order to know how best to help them. It took some time, but gradually they began to trust her and embrace her assistance.

  The Wiradjuri had had a troubled history with the white settlers in the mid- to late-19th and 20th centuries. In the mid-1800s, the Reverend Gimble was granted land close to Darlington Point to establish the Warangesda Mission for the displaced “blackfellas” in the district.

  The men of the Aboriginal community assisted with the building of shelters, and they eventually also built a schoolhouse and a church. It was extremely difficult to provide enough food for all the people who lived on the mission, but Reverend Gimble had the support of some caring members of the white community who assisted with provisions when they could. Eventually, the mission established a market garden, which helped with the food supply and also brought a small income as the mission community was able to sell some of its produce. Farming did not come naturally to the nomadic Wiradjuri, but as the white settlers had taken up so much of their traditional hunting grounds, they could no longer survive as they had in the past. They understood that they had to change their traditional ways in order to feed their families, and they eventually became very skilled farmers.

  After many years of struggle, which included battling floodwaters, Warangesda Mission started to see the fruits of all the efforts made by those involved in its development. The early 1900s saw the building of more substantial housing, and better farming practices brought more success with the mission’s farming ventures.

 

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