-Jill’s Perspective-
MY DEAR SISTER LEIA,
I hope you are doing well.
Oh, how the time flies, for a month has passed since I’ve come to this convent. Mornings start early here. As soon as the sun rises, I, too, must rise and get ready for my day. During the time I have before breakfast, I pray to God. I spend quite some time doing this.
✦ ✦ ✦
Then, I go to the morning service where I hear Sister Eleanor speak—she’s my guarantor. She is a model nun for us novices, as she always stands straight and is a picture of pious dignity. (But the smile that sometimes sneaks onto her face is kind. She is a lovely woman.)
Once she has finished speaking, we have breakfast. We eat simple fare like bread, soup, and salad, and the menu never changes, so as you would expect, it’s rather dull after a while. Sister Eleanor caught me thinking such things and she admonished me. She said, “Thank your meals for giving you life.”
I had never even considered thanking my meals before, so I didn’t understand what she meant at first. But over time, I think I understand what people mean when they say that meals taste better when they are eaten in good company. My fellow novices and I eat in silence, but the atmosphere is quite serene and cozy.
After breakfast, it’s time to do laundry. We novices take charge of the laundry on a rotating schedule, and we each have our own roles to fill. Since I am new to the convent, I take care of all the miscellaneous tasks. I wash our clothes, dry them, collect them, and then I fold them.
I was so confused that I almost burst into tears the first time I had to do laundry because we always had servants do these chores at home. But I vowed that I would never cry again.
I ask the sisters for help whenever there’s something I don’t understand, and I keep challenging myself. And now…well, it was quite the ordeal to learn everything, but now I’m rather competent. It’s a good feeling—like I’ve grown up a little.
After we finish the laundry, we are free to spend the time as we wish. We read books, we sew, we do whatever we fancy.
Then in the evening, we clean some more before getting ready for supper. We take turns cooking. When it’s my turn, I’m so excited to rise to the challenge.
That being said, everything I cook is quite basic. Stew, bread, braised beans, and that’s about it. Once a week, the sisters buy fruit for us to enjoy.
After supper, we perform our daily ablutions and spend the rest of the evening as we wish before bedtime. I’ve decided to spend that time praying to God. Ever since I memorized the prayer by heart, I have never skipped a day. And since many of the nuns and novices spend this time of day praying, I am never alone. I have a couple of friends who often pray with me, and we prayed together this evening only a little while ago. Their names are Amelia, Elena, and Flora, and they are all around my age, so we’ve become quite close.
They are all devout believers and women of steadfast faith. I very much like the peaceful moments the four of us spend together.
“Phew… What else shall I write?”
I mulled over what else to say in my letter to my sister. I had heaps of things to tell her, but it was rather difficult putting everything on paper. Looking back now, I thought that I might have made crying and running from difficult tasks into a nasty habit.
“Oh, I know! I’ll tell her what happened yesterday.”
And with that, I picked up my pen again.
One day, dear sister, I was in my room, writing a letter to you, when I heard a flurry of frantic footsteps outside my door.
“Jill! You can use magic, can’t you?”
“Sister Eleanor? Is something the matter?”
Sister Eleanor was running up to me, her face flushed with worry. She is usually calm and composed, so seeing her so flustered was a first.
“Please, come to the chapel immediately—there’s an emergency!”
I could scarcely let out a confused gasp before she yanked my arm and dragged me to the chapel. It was full of nuns and novices, and they were in a furor.
“What in the world is happening?” I wondered, starting to feel worried.
Then Sister Eleanor said, “Some children in our care were bitten by a venomous snake while they were playing. Jill, I heard you can cast Anti-Poison—could you cure them?”
“Me, cure them, Sister? O-okay…”
The sisters led me to the front of the chapel. When I arrived, a little girl grabbed my arm and, clinging to me, said, “Oh, Sister, please help us…”
When I saw her face, I couldn’t breathe. She was in such pain, yet she had put her faith in someone like me to save her.
“God as my witness, I will save you!” I thought to myself as I cast my spell.
“Anti-Poison!!”
The girls were enveloped in blinding light. I knew everything would be all right. I may not be much, but I do have a knack for poison-type magic.
“All the pain is gone… Thank you! Oh, thank you, Sister Jill!”
I was speechless. Nobody had ever said those words to me before because I had never before done anything worthy of gratitude.
“Jill, you have our gratitude. Well done.” Sister Eleanor smiled and gently petted my head. I felt rather embarrassed, but I did not mind it.
I wondered to myself: Is this how the world always looked through my sister’s eyes?
And it was then that I had a revelation: All those years I longed for the title of saint, I had lost sight of something very important. And even if you had never become a saint, my sister, you still would have acted like one.
You would have still devoted your life to helping others, just like this.
I wish to become like you, dear sister… I want to help people.
In hopes of coming closer to you, I’ve decided to put these feelings into a letter. This is what is in my heart right now. And I will work hard, so that someday, I will be able to hold my head high!