by Lori Olding
She shrugged and blushed as she was speaking, and Ruth wondered if she hadn’t said anything nice for a while and might not be used to it. She felt a shiver of excitement at getting her nun back and was about to place her in her pocket again when a sharp crinkle of the paper made her look down.
Are you sure you’re doing the right thing, my dear?
Odd how she could hear the nun’s voice but she somehow knew it was only in her head, just for her. She blinked down at the nun who was looking thoughtful. She was doing the right thing, wasn’t she? The nun belonged to her, she was a birthday present from Great-Aunt Alice. So Ruth should keep the nun as close to her as possible, and all the more so because of her magical powers.
But, my dear, gifts are magical and the magic is strongest when you give them away.
Oh. Ruth hadn’t thought about that before, and neither had she thought how alike the voices of her great-aunt and the origami nun were. But they were so alike it was almost impossible to tell them apart.
For a moment more, Ruth didn’t know what it meant or what to do. But then she looked at Lorraine and she knew.
She took hold of a pen and wrote on the nun: She’s yours, Lorraine. Then she handed the origami nun back to her new friend.
Lorraine looked down at the nun, then up at Ruth, and then down again. When she looked up the next time, her eyes were really glittery.
To Ruth’s surprise and delight, Lorraine hugged her.
“Thank you, Ruth,” she whispered. “From now on, you’re my best friend.”
Then with a smile she skipped away. Ruth felt all sorts of things at once. She felt amazed at what Lorraine had said, and happy too, and she felt sad as she’d given the nun to her new friend, but it wasn’t a horrible kind of sadness. Not as horrible as it had been when her mother had died. No, nothing like that at all.
“Oh, honey,” a voice behind her whispered as strong arms gathered her into a hug. “I’m so very proud of you, you know.”
Ruth wiggled around in her great-aunt’s grasp and sighed happily as she cuddled up to her in the usual way. She liked making Great-Aunt Alice proud, even though she wasn’t quite sure if she’d be happy at Ruth giving away her present like that.
Great-Aunt Alice laughed. Then, as the other children busied themselves with getting ready for home or tidying up, she took Ruth by the shoulders and knelt down so Ruth could see right into her great-aunt’s face.
“Ruth, my darling,” she said. “That was a very lovely thing you did just now when you gave Lorraine the origami nun and there’s not one jot of me that’s unhappy about what you did. You’ve gained a friend and that’s the most important gift in the world. Do you understand?”
Ruth nodded.
“Good,” Great-Aunt Alice said. “There’s something else that’s important too, and that’s letting things go when the time is right for them to leave us, whether it’s our choice or not. Like the nun.”
And like my mother? Ruth wanted to ask, but of course she had no words. Not spoken ones anyway. But her great-aunt seemed to understand.
“Yes, like that,” she said. And then, like Ruth, she was silent.
For a while, Ruth’s eyes filled with tears and she let them fall as Great-Aunt Alice wiped them away. Then, when that was done, Ruth felt lighter, and a bit happier too. It was her birthday, so crying and being happy were both okay, and maybe, just maybe, her mother might be watching over her somewhere and feeling just the smallest bit proud.
“Oh, naturally, she is,” said Great-Aunt Alice and the origami nun in the same voice, and that, Ruth thought, was that.
So, she and Great-Aunt Alice and Mr. Brown waved goodbye to Lorraine and Lorraine’s new nun, and all the other children too, and they walked home. It had been a birthday to remember for ever.
