The Staircase
“The nuns barred my way. One guarded the door of the small sickroom while others rushed in and out with piles of soiled linen and basins of hot water, murmuring, "Not now, not now." I stood there stupidly with the soft, warm shawl, so delicate in weave and color that it looked like an angel's wing. As Sister Catherine came out I glimpsed the scene inside. Sister Roberta was taking the baby from Delvina and saying something to her in Spanish. "La veremos dentro de poco." Sister Catherine went back in. I handed the shawl to her. She nodded and took it, and I went to my room. When the door closed behind Sister Catherine, I heard the nuns praying.
I POSTED TWO LETTERS on my way to Fort Marcy that afternoon: Dear Uncle William: I am sending this to Fort Bent because there is every likelihood that is where you are. By now Daddy has written to you of my dear mamas death. Oh, Uncle William, how I wish I were with you at home in Independence, instead of languishing here in this terrible place.
...I know you mourn Mama, but let me tell you, mourning does not help.MoreLess
I POSTED TWO LETTERS on my way to Fort Marcy that afternoon: Dear Uncle William: I am sending this to Fort Bent because there is every likelihood that is where you are. By now Daddy has written to you of my dear mamas death. Oh, Uncle William, how I wish I were with you at home in Independence, instead of languishing here in this terrible place.
...I know you mourn Mama, but let me tell you, mourning does not help.MoreLess
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