One & Half Mother -Chapter 1

One & Half Mother

Madhu. S. Nair

To those who spent their precious time to read and gave pieces of advice to help me complete this in a short time.

Anantha Padmanabhan Rajababu.

Arun Kumar

Thushara Sukesh

Avijit Dutta

Richard Clark

To the only one who made me believe there was some talent left in me.

Arya Dharan

To my parents who sacrificed their good time in life to give me strength.

Sasidharan Nair

Pushpa Vally

To all who are going to love Ellen and her life.

“Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.”

– Isaiah 46:4.

Chapter 1

It was raining the entire day. The street was covered with red and dark brown leaves that had fallen from maple trees. The sun was looking down through the dim mist over the city; the rain and sun created shades of a rainbow in the firmament. Maple trees with red and orange scales polarized individuals’ visual perceptions like a voluminous blooming garden. People were walking around the city wearing long raincoats and a few, with umbrellas.

A woman with a grimy dress was trying to accommodate herself before a few shops in the street; the shop proprietors were yelling at her and tossing her back to the rain. She limped toward the transport, holding up the shed with the help of a wooden stick in her grasp that was a little way from where she was. She went inside through the group to discover a corner for herself. People gave her approach inside; they preferred not to get grimy by touching that old woman. She sat in a corner of the shed.

Transport came and passed at regular intervals, and the shed became empty by night. The surge in the city was lower on those pluvial November days. Less business made the shop proprietors close early. The old lady felt cold in that open shed. She was sitting tight in the street by dusk hoping to discover space for her to sleep. She saw a man walking outside after shutting the last shop in that lane. She began limping in the street to locate a warm and closed space to sleep; lamentably, she didn’t find any warm space for herself at that time. Her usual space for sleeping was occupied by some nascent gathering of road carnival players.

She stopped in a veranda of an espresso spot where people used to play caroms during the day. It was a congested space; the cold floor was gelid like solidified water. She prepared her place to sleep, close to the harsh divider, with two layers of paper sheets that she amassed from garbage bins. She lay on it and secured her body with her old filthy woolen cover. It was raining vigorously outside, and in that commotion of rain, she auricularly perceived the insidious sound of a wolf from somewhere that scared her about sleeping in that open veranda. Still, she tried to sleep with her eyes shut tightly.

There was a wreck by a gathering of canines. One brown female canine was running in front with a pack in its mouth, which had something overwhelming heavy in it. That canine ran speedily to save its repast; the other canines were rushing to grab its repast, or they sought to have a share of that supper. There were little blood stains on that sack dangling from that pooch’s mouth. Sadly, to protect its repast, that canine found the same space in the street where the destitute old woman was sleeping. That massively Goliath brown canine just hurried into the area and left her repast in the corner, close to the woman and swung back to the other canines. It appeared there was a battle ahead.

Disturbed by the noisy commotion of canines, the woman got up and began yelling at them. She appeared to be distraught at those creatures that bothered her sleep. She took her large wooden stick and tossed it at those canines making noise. The canines maintained a safe distance from the woman, and they yapped and snarled at her. The old woman made her way back to the veranda. She found the sack with blood and brought it out. With a feeling of repugnance all over at that point, she wanted to throw it out. A newborn child’s foot rose out of the pack.

“Oh, my God!” Her voice was loud despite the rain.

She kept the pack on her blanket and opened it. There was a half-dead newborn baby covered in blood.

Her mind was blank for a minute. She secured the infant with her sheet and began running. She overlooked her handicap; it could be God’s supernatural providence or a human’s inner undiscovered powers that made her run. Canines ran after her, but not for long. She ran faster than they could. She gathered all the energy left in her to run toward the hilltop church.

That was the main place where people could observe lights at midnight from any place in Maple Valley. The light may have made her expect somebody would be up there to help the sick infant. She reached the foot of the hill and took steps to go up the mountain; she knew the road toward the church was much longer than these levels. She was jumping past the steps to reach the church expeditious, or she was just flying through the steps.

She entered the ingress of the church and yelled.

“HELP, help,” the words were stuck in her throat.

Father Gabriel was awake that night. One of the glass windows in his bedroom was broken by his insidious children in the orphanage. Father regrets the gift he had purchased for them—a softball. He hadn’t imagined that same ball would disturb his peaceful sleep this way.

He got up from the bed just a few minutes earlier than usual. An overwhelming breeze and rain were thundering outside. Showers of water poured all over. Sprays of water even reached his face.

He stood up on the floor, looked at the picture of Jesus hanging on his wall and whispered, “Jesus, why are you doing this to me?”

Jesus smiled back at him, thinking about the priest repining about his lost slumber and rain to someone who had sacrificed life and had been crucified for humans on the planet.

Father Gabriel walked to the bookshelf and pulled out a thick book with a coal-black cover from the top row. Was he going to read crime and punishment at midnight? Not a chance. He took something else from the rack, which he had kept behind that book. It was a parcel of Cohiba behike cigars, the most excellent quality made in Cuba. Nobody had seen the Father smoking at any time. Strange. Perhaps he hid those propensities behind his bookrack, behind Dostoyevsky, for a reason. He lit his cigar and moved toward the broken window. Cold water sprayed on him with the breeze.

The misty water wet his hair and beard. The sonic tone of rain decreased and stopped outside. Thick white smoke rose out of his mouth, blurred his sight for a minute and got sucked outside with the breeze through the broken window. Mercury street lights created a yellow cover on the road from the valley. Father noticed a shadow moving quickly with something toward the church from the valley. He had never seen anybody running like this toward the church. He crushed his cigar at that point and raced to the ground floor of the clergy house.

“Adam. Wake up, wake up!” Furthermore, he thumped a door while running toward the congregation; lights turned on everywhere throughout the church and the buildings close to it.

A young fellow sleepily advanced behind Father; he was a helper of the congregation and Father Gabriel’s unequaled right hand, Adam.

They reached the church and saw that winded old woman pleading for help with her eyes and a voice trapped in her throat. She showed them a pink infant secured with a messy woolen cover. Father took the infant from her hand; a small crowd had formed behind Father. Most of the inmates and orphans of Moses were standing behind him. Everyone was gazing at the old lady.

Sister Mary approached them and took the infant from Father; she felt the cold of the infant on her palm. She kept the child very close to her and whispered in that little angel’s ears, “Don’t give up, baby. Jesus is with you.”

Father Gabriel rushed into his office to find the car keys. The old woman saw Father Gabriel, Adam and Sister Mary going down to the valley in an old car that belonged to the congregation.

Many children and old women gathered around that destitute woman. She took a deep breath and asked Sister Catherine who was standing next to her for some water. Sister went back to the orphanage for water. She looked on at the people staring at her. Distinctive ages and diverse skin hues, every one of them in a nightdress. A moderately-aged woman approached her and lent her hand to the old woman to help her.

Sister Catherine returned with a glass pot brimming with water. She poured water into a glass and gave it to the old woman. She took the glass with shivering hands and let the water flow from the glass to her mouth without putting her lips to the glass. She asked Sister for the pot of water by pointing her other hand toward the container with her drained eyes. Sister gave the old woman the cup in her grasp; she held the pot with two hands. She drank water like she had never drunk water in her life.

Mother Superior Rachel ambulated slowly to the group with her strolling stick; she supported herself with her hand on the divider. Her steps appeared to be extremely excruciating with her swollen foot. When she reached the group, everyone gathered there went into a hushed silence. Mother Superior requested that the woman come inside Moses Orphanage. The group was scattered now. Someone helped the old woman walked to Moses. Nobody would believe it was this same old woman who made her way up the steps if they saw how she was walking now. Mother Rachel commanded Sister Catherine to give the woman an old nightdress and warm water to shower.

While walking to Moses, Mother turned toward the old woman and inquired, “May we know your name?”

She kept quiet for a minute. Possibly, she was trying to recall her name, which she forgot years back. She whispered, “Jennifer, Jennifer Lawrence.”

“Alright, wash up and rest now. We appreciate what you did today; we will talk tomorrow. God bless you,” Mother Rachel continued walking with her agonizing advances.

Sister Catherine guided the old woman to a room. It was a clean room with white-colored furniture. Sister insisted that she take a shower before resting. She exited the room leaving a few nightdresses on the bed. The old woman took a hard breath and tears fell from her eyes.

She whispered to herself slowly. “I reached where I never needed to; I am not an orphan, I have a family.”

Tears made her messy clothes wetter. She limped toward the washroom. The warm water kept in the large aluminum vessel had begun to get cold. She remained in the washroom, looked at her reflection in the mirror. She washed her hands with warm water. That inculpable infant’s bloodstains went off her palms. She whispered, “Jesus, please save that baby.”

She didn’t wash up well even with that hot water she got after years. The reflection she saw of herself in the mirror was horrible. She placed her arms on the mirror like a creature seeing itself in the mirror for the first time. She thought the virtual picture she just saw in the mirror was another person. She took out a heart-shaped memento from her dress, opened it to two halves. Inside it, there were two faces on it—one gorgeous woman and a handsome man.

She whispered, “If…”

She didn’t complete what she intended to say, the sorrow in her throat swallowed those words. She returned to the room, pulled the green floor mat that was close to the entry to the middle of the room. She lay on it. Perhaps the wooden floor and that floor mat gave her more solace than that frozen open space she would have had to sleep in that night.

Adam drove fast all the way to the hospital. The tires skid on all the curves while peregrinating toward the hospital. He went to rough terrain a few times on those dangerous curves after the rain. Father stayed silent. He was probably praying to God for the infant or to be able to reach the hospital quickly. Sister Mary held the infant close to her; she prayed all the way for that innocent soul.

They entered the hospital entrance. Sister Mary ran into the hospital through the emergency gate. St. Shepherd hospital was known for its excellent medical services of all time; it was the only hospital in that resplendent hill-surrounded city.

Maple Valley was an enticing place covered with maple trees, as its name implied. A Mexican ruler who was vanquished by adversaries and absconded to preserve his life found  the valley. He came up here in the seventeenth century, and gradually, turned it into a pulchritudinous kingdom. Bit by bit, other individuals from many places relocated there. English dealers came for business and got the land under their control. Maple Valley turned into a British colony in the eighteenth century.

The English administration freed Canada from their rule in 1867. At that time, Maple Valley was integrated into the map of Canada and became the border between the United States and Canada. The governing English did numerous great things for Maple Valley. They constructed schools, chapels, hospitals, railroad stations and more. The people of Maple Valley never thought a railroad track would manifest in the valley. Slopes on four sides isolated them from places nearby. English Military Engineers made it real by creating burrows through the mountains, which protected the valley from predators. Presently, Maple Valley turned into a duty entryway for the products going to two nations. That is the manner by which Maple Valley began to develop, and it turned into a captivating city with its nature and climate.

Starting in the 19th century, St Shepherd hospital earned a proper denomination. Initially, the military handled the hospital; later, they merged it with the church and its management to keep the control of that growing and famous hospital with Great Britain.

Presently, Doc. Williams was the Head of the hospital, and additionally, a suitable companion for Father Gabriel. At that point, when Sister Mary raced to the emergency, Father ran to meet Doc. Williams. Father asked the sleepy young lady sitting in the inquiry counter about Doc. Williams. She answered that the Doc would be resting in his quarters. Father rose up out of the hospital and kept running toward doctor’s quarters. He found the designation board of Doc. Williams on an old quarters built in the 18th century; he knocked the door hard.

“Doc, Doc, Father Gabriel here,” he shouted.

After a couple of thumps, the lights turned on inside. He heard someone’s footsteps inside, dragging his slippers on the floor. The door opened. With a wired countenance, Doc. Williams came outside. He was struggling to keep his eyes open. He saw Father Gabriel.

“What happened, Father? Why are you here at this time?”

“Sorry to disturb you at this time, Doc. We have a situation. You need to protect a little soul,” Father Gabriel replied in a delicate voice.

Doc walked with Father toward the hospital; later, he began running to keep pace with Father’s quick steps.

“It would be ideal if you let me know what the matter is,” Doc was breathing hard.

“We got an incipient baby a few minutes back, still breathing. She is going cold with time. Save her, Doc...”

Father didn’t finish the sentence. Doc. Williams saw the Father’s watery eyes, and he discerned the love of an authentic angel in his eyes. “I will do my best, Father; please stay calm.”

They reached the hospital. Sister Mary and a few medical caretakers were around a table helping the baby breathe with an oxygen supplier, and they were trying to make her warm by rubbing their hands together and pressing her little body. Doc went into the room; everyone cleared the way for the Doc to get to the infant. He put on his stethoscope and placed it over her little chest. He came back from there and told Father, “Impuissant.”

He gave the medical caretaker a couple of guidelines and asked them to take the child to the emergency unit. He requested the Head Nurse to call a pediatrician on duty, and he swung to Father.

“Father, I will do my best to save this little champ. However, it appears it is a bit late. She has already become cold. Please don’t hope too much.”

Father and Doc strolled toward Doc. Williams’ office room in the hospital. He requested that Father take a seat there. Doc went in and washed his face and hands. He then returned to the room.

“From where did you get the child this midnight?” he inquired.

Father told him the whole story right from the moment he discerned the lady running toward the church from the valley.

While they were in the midst of their discussions, a medical caretaker came into the space to call Doc. She had bad news. They may be losing the infant. Doc. Williams and Father hurried to the ICU. Nobody stopped Father from entering the ICU. The guard who was at the ICU entryway may have figured the presence of Father may improve the situation. The ECG displayed a feeble flag with the beep. Father shut his eyes and appealed to the omnipotent God to spare this little champ.

The baby’s hands and legs turned dark pink. She seemed to be in a peaceful sleep despite the bleeding wounds left by the stray dogs. She was sleeping since the moment they got her. Sleeping with her soul elsewhere. She had been breathing; that was the only hope they had before coming to the hospital. Father was still praying with closed eyes and his hands on the holy cross hanging on from his neck.

Doc. Williams said there was nothing they could do now, until the point when her little body responded to them. “She needs to battle back if she is to live, or God has to perform some miracle to give her back to us,” he said. She may have heard what Doc said to Father. He gave a slight measure of injection to the half-alive newborn child, something most specialists would never dare to do.

This is something medical science can’t offer—assistance to awaken a spirit inside a human. Or transplant a spirit from another.

***

The destitute woman was contemplating her past, every single snapshot of her life flashed like a bright motion picture in her eyes. She saw her life as Jennifer Lawrence. She shut her eyes. She saw her handsome spouse. Her girls and her grandchildren playing around her.

“If your father were alive, you would hold me as your loving mother,” she whispered to herself.

Her musings were about the huge oversight she had made in her life. She had given all that they had made in their life to her little girls. From that minute, she turned into a useless mother for them. Her wanton children never recognized the mother who had battled for them; they pushed her to go to the nursing home. Regardless, she awaited that day her girls would come back to her to take her home. She remained in the streets like a child irate with guardians, however. Her daughters never returned to call her. She never wished to live in a nursing home; in her head, that was somewhere vagrants stayed.

She was not a vagrant on boulevards. In her head, she was living with her family. She trusted her family would get back to her.

The green mat turned dull green in a few spots from her tears. She took a deep breath, and it appeared she was experiencing extreme torment.

She pressed her left chest hard with both of her arms, “Jesus, please help me.” Her voice didn’t come out of her mouth, it was stuck someplace in her throat. She twisted her body. Her body shuddered. She made a hard attempt to take in a breath, yet she was unable to inhale. She opened her eyes; they began to protrude as she attempted to get a final gasp. She opened her mouth. No one to help. The rain and wind were thundering outside.

One of the windows opened and swung with the breeze, the mist came in and made the wooden floor wet. She shut her mouth, and eyes were now half closed, firmly clasped hands became free and descended from her chest to the floor. Still, her right hand was holding something tight. That memento from her wedding chain, a sign of a mother who never wanted to live as a vagrant, who always adored her family even in the wake of them tossing her out to the streets.

That old woman appeared unexpectedly in the rain and left mysteries for the people around.

***

Doc. Williams and Father Gabriel were talking outside the ICU. The nurse opened the entryway and informed Doc about the baby’s response to the injection. Doc surged back to the ICU; Father sent up his thanks to God. Sister Mary and Adam went along with Father. Each one felt something positive was going to happen. The ECG showed a little improvement in some time. Doc. Williams did not regret giving such an injection to the infant; it was his last attempt to give her strength to battle back. He never expected her to survive. The warm bed and blankets were removing the dull pink from her body; she began turning red like the sun after a solar eclipse.

***

During the long waiting hours outside the ICU, Father rested his head on his shoulder and the divider behind his seat. He shut his eyes for a minute. He dozed for a moment. The sound of a child crying crossed his mind, to wake him up. Yes, it was from the ICU. Father hopped from the seat in reflex. He saw Sister Mary and Adam still outside the ICU and peered inside through the sight glass. He went and remained alongside to them; he saw the weeping little angel with a smile on his face.

Doc. Williams came out of the ICU and held Father’s hand with his two hands, “With God’s grace and with your prayers, we got her back.”

The child began crying due to the torment in her body. She then cried louder to tell everybody she had battled and won her battle against death. She was a warrior. She may have heard what Doc said to Father through her spirit. Somebody is watching over everyone all the time. From birth to death, the way of the soul might be different for everybody, except the spirit inside each one that stays the same from birth to end. It will go with the body to give what the body needs for its survival. Maybe that extraordinary energy of creation and devastation took the struggling soul back to offer strength to the battling soul.Doc. Williams asked Father to go back to the chapel and unwind; he said they would deal with the infant until she returned to life. He explained the circumstance to Father Gabriel and said there was no need for anyone to wait outside the ICU.

Adam drove the distance back slowly. Light before the sunrise pained their eyes. They experienced a sense of freshness when they saw the streets filled with several maple leaves that had fallen during the previous day’s substantial rain. They felt there was something unique and new that day. That morning was more delightful than different days, an upbeat silence and fulfillment filled the car till they reached the congregation. They saw a group in the corridor of Moses, when they went inside the congregation gate. After stopping the vehicle, Father strolled there gradually. Grinning at Mother Rachel, he asked about the reason all were gathered there. Nobody said anything to Father.

After a moment of silence, Mother Rachel told him the destitute woman who had accompanied the infant the previous evening was discovered dead in the room, on the floor. “We informed the police, and they are headed here, Father,” another Sister said from the crowd. Father Gabriel did not reply to them. He was contemplating the periods of life. A few people say they are more successful than others—one day they will fail to hold their spirit with them. In time, they will surrender their life. However, they would battle and live until that day; they would work hard and forego even their sleep to get success in life, to end in a peaceful rest. Strange!

***

Police officers in light blue shirts and dark trousers entered the church in a police vehicle. One rescue vehicle tailed them to the church. Two policemen walked toward Father Gabriel. They wished him with a handshake. Father Gabriel strolled through the hall to the room with those officers. Two attendants went behind them holding a stretcher to take her body with them. The guest room entryway was half open. They pushed and opened the door fully.

Mother Rachel went along with them through the crowd on the corridor. They held the stretcher down, and two of the officers helped keep her body on the stretcher. An officer with service stars on his uniform was conversing with Father Gabriel. Another officer found a little filthy cotton sack close to her body. He opened it and put those things on the bed—a few wet paper cuttings, which formed a paper ball and a couple of little plastic toys, which she may have collected from junk.

Mother unraveled the things that happened last night to the officers. She included the fact that the woman had disclosed her name was Jennifer Lawrence.

The attendant who was taking her body to the stretcher discovered something in her grasp, and he took it out from the grasp of her solidified fingers. It was a brilliant memento, a huge one. He glanced around and ensured nobody was looking at him at that moment. He kept it in his pocket without hesitation. He was happy he could procure something for his family with this unexpected income. He forgot somebody watches over him all the time.

They packed up everything, and the rescue vehicle began moving toward the hospital. The officer and Father were talking about the infant. After their discussions, the police vehicle went downhill, away from the church. The strobe lights of those vehicles were noticeable for a long time to those from Moses who were looking at the valley with no reason.

***

Father Gabriel appeared to be very disturbed; he didn’t say much when Mother Rachel inquired about the child. He strolled upstairs to his room. He took the book out and grabbed his cigar box and lit the last one remaining in the container. He went to the washroom. His psyche was truly irritated. He was thinking about spiritual connections of souls. He took a long time to come out of the washroom.

Father wore his long dark-colored cassock and sat on the wooden seat in his room. He rested his arms on the table and looked at the Holy Bible kept on the edge of the table. He took the Bible and made it two halves to locate an arbitrary page.

“Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you, and I will carry you; I will sustain you, and I will rescue you.”

– Isaiah 46:4.

Father Gabriel read the verse a little loud. He took a long and profound breath. His eyes and psyche were stuck somewhere on the rooftop for a minute; he was thinking about something.

He shut the Bible and strolled toward the broken window. He looked outside. He could see the city from this window; clear sky and the sun turned the valley into a marvelous painting. He believed he was the custodian of Maple Valley. He always viewed the valley from his window, and that window in his room was the ideal place to watch the whole city.

The old brass telephone kept in the corner of Father Gabriel’s office began ringing with boisterous chimes. He picked up the call; he heard the voice of Doc. Williams on the other side.

Doc was in a rush to tell him the child was recovering quicker than they thought. They had moved her from the ICU to the newborn children’s ward; their medical caretaker would watch over her full time. Doc. Williams said everything in one breath; he told him about the people from Moses and Sister Sophia who were still waiting outside with prayers for the baby.

Father Gabriel expressed his gratitude to Doc. Williams hung up the phone as he had a big rush of patients waiting for him in the hospital.

Father remained with the receiver in his grasp for a moment and said, “God favor you” to the beeping tone on the other end.

Father believed somebody waiting outside the ICU with prayers had fortified that spirit. He believes that still.

That was a unique day for the inmates and orphans of Moses Orphanage. Father Gabriel called Adam and instructed him to inform Mother Rachel and Father Nicolas to deal with Sunday prayers in the congregation. He went down through the stairs with the loud sound of his boot. He strolled toward the congregation; there were a few conversations going on between Mother Rachel and old women inmates and orphans about the destitute woman. They all went into a hush when the Father went past them. They all knew the serious nature of Father.

Father Gabriel strolled to the congregation.

Adam was standing outside. “I have informed them, Father,” he said.

Father asked him for the car keys; they were with Adam. He took it out and gave them to Father; Father started the car and headed to the hospital. Thinking about something from the starting point, Father Gabriel did not notice the maple trees in the street and the people who wished him from the street. Father reached the hospital. He strolled inside to meet Doc. Williams. The young lady at the inquiry desk stood up and wished Father. Sister Sophia was conversing with a medical attendant. She saw the Father and walked toward him with a smile. Sister Sophia told about the addition of little angel to the Moses family. Father grinned and nodded his head in acknowledgment, and he breathed out a little heavily.

Doc. Williams was walking through the hall after his rounds. He found Father in the crowd and came toward him. The two old friends went toward Doc. Williams’ garden for a walk. Father Gabriel’s and Doc Williams’ white hair and beards shone in the daylight. They strolled through the garden to that garden bench.

Doc. Williams was a decent planter. He isolated and planted ever-blossoming plants everywhere throughout the garden. So whoever observed the garden would observe the blooms as well. They both sat on a garden seat. Doc. Williams took his eyeglasses and hung it to his chest in a metallic chain.

Doc reassured Father, “We gave her immunization for rabies too, there were two or three injuries. Appears like she got them from the assault of canines. In the coming fifteen days, she will begin laughing like an angel.” Doc. Williams grinned. “Why is somebody from the chapel continually waiting here? As long as I am here, she will get treated like my baby,” Doc said with a smile.

“No, Doc. I am not sending anyone here; they are accompanying her per their desires. They love to see the new relative,” Father told him that the love and fondness he found between the vagrants in Moses was more than in a family. They wept at others’ distress; they giggled at others’ joy.

“Do you know, the hardest moment for them is separation… when a family adopts somebody, most of them cry, it isn’t because they are not happy about that. It is because they know the torment of partition. A large portion of them came through it, and every one of them hates to get separated.”

Father and Doc looked extremely old in their fifties. The devotion to duty and pressures made their hair turn white; they discussed numerous things on that sunny day.

Fifteen days went by quickly. On that day, Sister Mary had a mild fever, and she was taking rest. Sister Sophie and Adam, along with Father Gabriel, went to take the child from the hospital. Even before going, Father Gabriel advised Father Nicolas to organize a Baptism ceremony for the new entrant to the family. While in transit to the hospital, Father stopped the car at a sweet merchant’s to purchase a sack of sweets, and he kept the candies on the dashboard.

When they reached the hospital, Father saw two medical attendants in the garden with the child in their arms. She was grinning. In the wake of seeing the Father outside, Doc. Williams went outside, and they went along with them. That blessed infant didn’t dither or cry when Father took her from them. She looked all around, and she smiled.

They strolled to the drug store. The drug specialist was astonished to see Doc. Williams and Father. She gave them all the medications and vitamins tablets according to the exhortation of Doc. Father thanked Doc for his assistance and favored him with his words.

Father began strolling toward the car. Adam was holding a big bag of medicines and toys, which were gifted by her medical caretakers. The attendants ran and came toward Father to meet the child and gave her a sendoff kiss.

On the way back, Adams drove the car slowly. In the back seat, Sister Sophie was holding the infant close to her. After a couple of minutes, Father Gabriel’s deep voice ended the hush.

“Sister, do you have any names for this heavenly baby?”

She ended the silence after thinking for some time.

“Elisha.”

“Mmmmmm, that is a decent name.”

They arrived in church, and every one of the occupants gathered for her submersion function. After Baptism, Father Gabriel gave her the name “Elisha”.

In Moses Orphanage, Sister Mary and Sophie were in charge of the children’s section. Elisha was the first newborn baby in the orphanage. The hidden motherliness of Sister Mary and Sophie came out when they started expressing their love for this little angel. She didn’t cry often; she didn’t create any trouble for the inmates and orphans either. She was very happy to see the faces around with her big eyes. She was just like a butterfly around Moses church from the moment she started walking on her own.