“I’ll be fine,” I responded, feeling smothered by her worry about me.
I think she took the hint. She merely nodded and with one last look of sadness in her eyes, Jenny
left the Assembly Hall as she passed by me. Her footsteps were receding until I could hear them no longer.
Sighing as best I could without hoping to cause injury to myself, I also left in the opposite direction of Jenny
. I needed to get to my first class of the day.
“Now, class, repeat after me: “God is Just. God is Pure. Let no harm come to us nor those we hold dear.” Fifty
times in your notebooks, please,” dictated Sister Margaret with precision.
Sister Margaret let her eyes wander around the classroom, her hands clasped entwined upon her desk as her lips set in a grim line. One student was absent, as far as she could recall. Dawson, Henry Dawson.
Sister Margaret had high hopes for the boy. He was not very bright, but not a complete nincompoop either. It appeared his Faith was the only thing lacking. Then again, he could have been worse, like that Eccles child. She was grateful not to be the one in charge of him in her class. Sister Margaret prayed for them both constantly, believing the children of Dunsville were a better solution for the Christian Faith of the town for the future.
A modest believer in Faith, Sister Margaret ruled with fair discipline and sharp order if needed.
(to be continued...)