Patience And Virtue

[jimbms]

Eight year old Johnny sat fidgeting in his seat while listening to his teacher, Sister Mary Patience, tell one of his classmates for chewing gum in class. She made chewing gum sound like a mortal sin. The little boy tore off the bottom of a piece of notebook paper and wrote on it.

 

"Psst!" Johnny met the eyes of the girl sitting next to him. Grinning mischievously, he reached out to hand the note to her.

 

"John Andrew Clancy, what are you doing?" Johnny froze as he heard his teacher's voice. He turned to see her staring at him, looking for all the world like an avenging angel staring at a sinner. Or a big, thin penguin staring at a fish.

 

Dropping his hand behind his back, little Johnny managed to stammer, "N - Nothing, Sister Patience."

 

"Well, Mr Clancy, perhaps you will come up here and read for the class the 'nothing' you've hidden behind your back."

 

"Y - yes, Sister Patience." One does not argue with a nun; that's almost like arguing with Jesus. So, feeling for all the world like a condemned man headed to the gallows, the little boy made his way to the front of the class.

 

"Well, Mr Clancy," the tall, rail-thin nun held her arms akimbo. "The class is waiting to hear what you find so much more compelling than English."

 

Johnny slowly opened the note, as though moving slower would delay what he knew was coming. Through eyes already blurry with tears, he read: "Why did they ever name her Sister Patience when she doesn’t have any?" Almost sobbing, he managed to read the rest: "Or - or, is all her patience used up in her name?"

 

Sister Patience said something under her breath in Latin. All the kids knew when she started speaking Latin, it meant Big Trouble. "So, young man - you think to mock the name Our Lord gave me? Hold out your hands."

 

Little Johnny held out trembling hands, tears rolling down his cheeks. The nun tore the note out of his hand, crumpled it up and threw it in the wastebin. Johnny wished he could get off as easy. Then with two whaps that echoed off the classroom walls, Sister Mary Patience rapped the little boy's knuckles with a ruler.

 

"Now what do you say, young man?"

 

"Th - thank you, Sister - Sister Patience."

 

His hands on fire, and his face hot from the embarrassment of crying in front of everybody, Johnny hurried back to his desk. As their teacher went back to her lesson, the little boy sat there, quietly weeping. He almost didn't notice the note placed on his open English book.

 

Wiping his eyes with red, burning hands, he opened the note and silently read: "Meet me by the girls' toilets after class."

 

Looking over to the girl next to him, she favoured him with a quick, surreptitious nod. Somewhere, he found a small smile to give her.

 

The rest of the class went slowly; it's a proven fact that time moves more slowly when one is hurting. But finally, the bell chimed, announcing the end of class and the beginning of lunch. The children stood and were dismissed by rows. Johnny resisted the urge to run to the girls' toilets.

 

"Hi Cathy!" Johnny gave her a bigger smile, now that the awful class was behind him. He winced when she took his hand. With an embarrassed "Sorry, Johnny," she dropped his hand. Then his friend took him by the arm around the corner. Behind the girls' toilets was the flight of stairs down to the boiler room. At this time of day, it would be unused and the staircase would be private.

 

"Okay Johnny," she said quietly. "Are you ready?"

 

The little boy nodded eagerly and when his friend pulled out her pendant, he gave her a real smile.

 

"Okay Johnny, just be comfy." She reached out a hand and smoothed his hair, brushing his cheek in a way that seemed so comforting and made the two of them feel so close. "Look up at my pendant. Cathy's pendant. See how it glows in the light?"

 

Little Johnny nodded, already feeling calmer.

 

"Now let's count - "

 

The young girl was interrupted by the sound of a scuffle far across the playground. Both children looked toward the sound, and then Cathy again brushed her friend's cheek, returning his attention to her.

 

"Okay, don't worry about the noise, just listen to Cathy." She pitched her voice in a soft, gentle-tone, drawing Johnny's attention more to her. "Cathy's all that matters."

 

She held up her pendant again, the light from the sun made the translucent green glass bead seem to glow. "Look at the pendant, Cathy's pendant. Okay, now."

 

Johnny stared at the glowing green glass dangling from the chain in his friend's hand. He listened and counted with her, from five down to one. By the time they reached one, Johnny felt a familiar calm. He couldn't move and didn't want to move. He just closed his eyes and listened to Cathy's soft voice.

 

"Okay, Johnny. Cathy's here. Cathy makes it better."

 

That brought a smile back to the little boy's slack jaw. She really did make things better. He was glad they were friends.

 

"Lift up your hands, just a bit. Just like that."

 

The reminder of his hurt hands made Johnny want to wake up, but Cathy kept talking to him. Distracting him from his pain. Then she got to why they were there.

 

"Your hands don't hurt anymore," Cathy soothed. "Say it."

 

"My hands don't hurt anymore," Johnny said.

 

"You can move your fingers ok now," the young girl continued. "Say it."

 

"I can move my fingers," the little boy felt as relieved as he sounded. "ok."

 

"Your hands are all better, Johnny." The boy didn't see his friend wipe tears from her own eyes. "I'm so glad."

 

"You're better now," Cathy said with more confidence. "Cathy makes it better," she concluded. "Say it!"

 

"Cathy makes it better," Johnny said confidently.

 

The two friends counted slowly, from one to five. By the time they reached five, Johnny was awake and happy. He looked down and noticed Cathy holding his hands. They didn't hurt.

 

"Thank you, Cathy!" the little boy said. He hugged her and the two children sat like that a second.

 

Then Cathy said, "we had better get to lunch! I don't want them to run out of pie!"

 

The little boy ran hand-in-hand with his friend. The lunch people were still serving. Even if the two children were last in line, at least they got lunch. They sat together, eating companionably. When it was time for dessert, Johnny took his spoon and cut his pie in half and gave half to the young girl.

 

"Oh Johnny!" Cathy exclaimed. "You don't have to do that - you like pie too!"

 

"It's okay," the little boy smiled. "Friends like to do good things for each other!"

 

"Yes," his friend agreed. She reached forward and took his hand in her own. "Yes, they do."