One

                                                                              Sister Give Me Mercy

"I'm lost without you." 

A whisper carried by the wind sharply tickled my ears. The words burned in my mind as fiercely as the sun pierced through my dark robes. The laughter of my lost ragamuffins running to and fro on the grounds of St. Inocencia of Mercy only worsened my agony. How can the very things that bring joy cause me such misery?

The children were not at fault for my pain. The children were the reason for my continued existence. I gave them shelter when they had none. Like the sun, I nourished them back to life when they were  on the cusp of death. I stayed by their side when they were abandoned and I loved them when love was denied. In return, I received the unbridled affection only a loved child could give.

As much as I adored my ragamuffins, I had grown tired of living in a world without the purest part of my soul. I vowed to remain pure until my departure from this world, but what was it all for? How could I offer sanctuary to the unloved when I failed to protect the light of my life? 

An unrestrained tear trailed past my cheek followed by thousands more it seemed, but it didn't matter. Ten years of restrained grief could not be contained much longer.

Once the children were out of sight, I leaned against the old fearsome willow tree. One would think it odd for anyone, nevermind a sister of the Roman Catholic faith to find solace in a thing of nature that elicits fear and avoidance. The children dare not go near this unmoving boogeyman. I had a tendency to find comfort in the most uncomfortable. 

Comfort was fleeting. My soul screamed and my heart ached for the life that was ripped from your tiny defenseless body. What is life without you adoracion?

"I'm lost without you." I whispered breathlessly  to the wind caressing the rusty oak as if it were those thick ebony curls I'd brushed so long ago.

A sudden weight thrust itself upon my back like a cannonball hurtling me against the roughness of the willow tree. I held onto the grotesque tree with one hand, the other finding itself enmeshed in dark long curls. A child found my hiding place, his willowy little olive arms wrapped around my waist protectively. 

I reached one hand to wipe my tears and the other to pull the child closer. Suddenly the child's head jolted upward in a startling motion as he smiled at me reassuringly. He was never afraid. My fearless little Joseph. My steel anchor. I had delivered him from evil and fear and in return he  gave me security. His sweet almond eyes and cherubic cheeks  could fortify and heal all wounds. Sadly, even he could not stop the arrow of revenge. 

The world blackened as I fell away from him. I was not afraid. I have waited for this moment . I only prayed that he would be safe. 

Until we meet again my love.