and the beer factory. Halifax was an old harbor, actually. It had more than 250 years. The streets were filled with guesthouses, old buildings, prostitutes and a general chaos. The city was endlessly moving and changing, even if its link with the past was still very strong.
We finally got to an old and dirty building. We walked through a dark corridor that smelt really bad and we found ourselves in front of a big stair that had seen better days. A small wooden door stood there.
We opened it and found ourselves in the middle of a crowd. The place was packed with nuns that spoke different languages and dialects. They were busy talking and doing stuff. They seemed strong and perfectly able to take care of themselves.
We were tired and wet, our clothes were covered in mud, but we still looked quite good.
As the nuns saw us, one of them to us.
«My name is Samuel Campbell. A sister from Edinburgh should have talked to you about our arrival».
The woman shook his head. She didn’t say anything and hurried to a long corridor. She said something to someone.
Few seconds later, a small woman, with a warm smile and dark hair, came to us. She had brown eyes and I felt like I could trust her.
«Good morning, Sam. Good morning, Claire. We know everything about you. Claire, we surely need a young woman like you».
Sam and I were stuck. She was a resolute lady, that was for sure.
She was magnetic, actually. She looked like a strong woman and she spoke a very good English, even if she had an Italian accent.
She looked at us. «I know everything about you, but maybe you need to know something more about us. We take care of those who get here, in North America, without money nor belongings. They are tired, they need a job, they are hungry. They sometimes can’t read nor write, which is why they are given a red book. If they own a yellow paper, that’s something to start with. The majority of those people won’t be able to stay, but we must help them. We help young women, we teach adult people how to read and write. We give them some food. We don’t have much money, because we live on donations».
I smiled at her. She know what to do. She made it all sound so plain and simple. She was a brave woman, I could see that.
She spoke to Sam: «We might have some estates for you, actually. That’s why you’re here, after all».
She took us to a small office. She got in and we followed her. It was packed with papers, documents, pens, candles and bread. She took a few papers and gave them to Sam.
«This is really kind of you», said Sam.
«We’d love to help you», I added.
She smiled at us.
«You’re very welcome, my dear», she replied. «I’m sure you will find out what you can do here».
She caressed my cheek. She didn’t have a soft skin. She was used to working much.
«My name is Beatrice. Now I must go. You see those kids over there? They need me».
She left.
As we left the convent, I saw Sister Beatrice sitting with the kids. She was incredibly loving and strong. She moved her hands a lot, just like the Italian people I had met in Rome did. The kids were laughing. They got in the classroom and as Sam and I were walking back to our hotel, I kept thinking of Beatrice. Sam was talking to me, but I didn’t notice that. I didn’t even notice the siren in the background.
«Claire, I don’t know what’s going on, but I think we’d better hurry...», he said.
My daydreaming came to an end.
«What’s wrong?»
He kept walking.
«I don’t know yet. But it’s good to see you’re back on Earth. Were you thinking about Beatrice?»
We had gotten downtown, where people were hurrying and screaming at each other. Sam got into a pub. A huge red-haired man was there. He didn’t seem to be especially well educated and he was wearing a kilt. He asked Sam something and my husband replied. Then we got into a corner.
«What did he say? Is he Scottish?»
«He’s an Highlander».
I remembered that Scottish people sided
We finally got to an old and dirty building. We walked through a dark corridor that smelt really bad and we found ourselves in front of a big stair that had seen better days. A small wooden door stood there.
We opened it and found ourselves in the middle of a crowd. The place was packed with nuns that spoke different languages and dialects. They were busy talking and doing stuff. They seemed strong and perfectly able to take care of themselves.
We were tired and wet, our clothes were covered in mud, but we still looked quite good.
As the nuns saw us, one of them to us.
«My name is Samuel Campbell. A sister from Edinburgh should have talked to you about our arrival».
The woman shook his head. She didn’t say anything and hurried to a long corridor. She said something to someone.
Few seconds later, a small woman, with a warm smile and dark hair, came to us. She had brown eyes and I felt like I could trust her.
«Good morning, Sam. Good morning, Claire. We know everything about you. Claire, we surely need a young woman like you».
Sam and I were stuck. She was a resolute lady, that was for sure.
She was magnetic, actually. She looked like a strong woman and she spoke a very good English, even if she had an Italian accent.
She looked at us. «I know everything about you, but maybe you need to know something more about us. We take care of those who get here, in North America, without money nor belongings. They are tired, they need a job, they are hungry. They sometimes can’t read nor write, which is why they are given a red book. If they own a yellow paper, that’s something to start with. The majority of those people won’t be able to stay, but we must help them. We help young women, we teach adult people how to read and write. We give them some food. We don’t have much money, because we live on donations».
I smiled at her. She know what to do. She made it all sound so plain and simple. She was a brave woman, I could see that.
She spoke to Sam: «We might have some estates for you, actually. That’s why you’re here, after all».
She took us to a small office. She got in and we followed her. It was packed with papers, documents, pens, candles and bread. She took a few papers and gave them to Sam.
«This is really kind of you», said Sam.
«We’d love to help you», I added.
She smiled at us.
«You’re very welcome, my dear», she replied. «I’m sure you will find out what you can do here».
She caressed my cheek. She didn’t have a soft skin. She was used to working much.
«My name is Beatrice. Now I must go. You see those kids over there? They need me».
She left.
As we left the convent, I saw Sister Beatrice sitting with the kids. She was incredibly loving and strong. She moved her hands a lot, just like the Italian people I had met in Rome did. The kids were laughing. They got in the classroom and as Sam and I were walking back to our hotel, I kept thinking of Beatrice. Sam was talking to me, but I didn’t notice that. I didn’t even notice the siren in the background.
«Claire, I don’t know what’s going on, but I think we’d better hurry...», he said.
My daydreaming came to an end.
«What’s wrong?»
He kept walking.
«I don’t know yet. But it’s good to see you’re back on Earth. Were you thinking about Beatrice?»
We had gotten downtown, where people were hurrying and screaming at each other. Sam got into a pub. A huge red-haired man was there. He didn’t seem to be especially well educated and he was wearing a kilt. He asked Sam something and my husband replied. Then we got into a corner.
«What did he say? Is he Scottish?»
«He’s an Highlander».
I remembered that Scottish people sided
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