Showing posts with label laundry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label laundry. Show all posts

Monday, March 9, 2020

Silence

9th March 2020

Just a few words today.
We should be in The Holy Land, but Bethlehem is on 30 day lock down because of the corona virus.
We went out on Thursday and were in the air when the lock down was put into effect. Our pilgrimage agents took the decision , for our safety , to fly us home the next day. We spent a night in Tel Aviv , had a couple of hours whizzing around Jerusalem where we were blessed to be able to go to the Church of The Holy Sepulchre, before rushing back to the airport. 
We intend to go back.

Silence


She will not be known

 by that name anymore,
Philomena.
They gave her that name.
She was five.
Her parents dead.
She was taken to 
the convent in Eniscothy.
They never  broke her will, 
though,
she sweated 
in the the laundry,
every day,
though,
they gave her
weak broth for food,
though,
 she was allowed,
 no conversation, 
or any time for 
childlike activities
Deep inside s
he clung to hope
of new beginnings,
a better life.
The secret silence,
loud as thunder.
the silence,
that separated,
the silence,
a tight chain,
cramped
around her soul.
Now, 
today,
Marie, will shatter 
that silence.
This thought,
before she speaks,
before her family 
knows, 
reacts, 
this thought itself, 
releases the tension,
the fetters fall, 
her lungs fill,
air, freedom, promise.
After supper, 
husband, children,
banter,
who's turn  the 
washing up?
She calls them,
sits them down,
spills it out,
tears fall, 
bathe the hurt .
For long moments,
no one speaks, 
then they hug her,
say, everything's ok,
we're here.
She says,
my name is Marie.
They nod

Saturday, March 11, 2017

Silence


11th March 2017

It is heartwarming to see that my blog has had over 28,100 visits. Thank you to all those who read and comment. 

Enjoyed the writing workshop this morning.

So this six sentence challenge incorporates the cue word "will" and one of the themes of the workshop.


Silence

She would not be known by that name anymore- Philomena - the name they gave her when aged five and an orphan she was taken to the convent in Eniscorthy.
Although her will was nearly broken, working everyday in the the laundry with  little food, no conversation, or any time for childlike activities, something deep inside her clung to a hope of new beginnings and a better life.
The secret silence had become as loud as thunder, a silence that separated, a silence that pulled a chain tight around her soul and now Marie was going to shatter that silence.
Even before she spoke and although she was worried how her family would react she felt the fetters fall and a longed for freedom fill her lungs with promise.
So, after supper one day , when her husband and children were bantering about whose turn it was to do the washing up, she sat them down and spilled it out and tears fell and bathed the hurt that all of them felt.
Not one of them spoke for a moment or two but when they did they said everything would be ok and they hugged her, while she said, "my name is Marie" and they nodded.




And out in the garden just now plants seem to be growing as you look at them and there are four goldfish in the pond.
Today was definitely a bit spring like.