Thursday, December 22
The most quiet time of the day at the Von Trapp villa was usually mid-morning, between nine and eleven o'clock. All seven children would be at school; the servants, having finished the breakfast, would quietly go about their tasks before lunch; and the master of the house would be in his private study, either working or reading.
Three days before Christmas, this mid-morning was no different than most. Captain Georg Von Trapp was shut in his private study, surrounded by his books and most precious antiques. His blazer, tie and shoes were all disregarded in a vacant armchair; he lay on the comfortable sofa with a blanket over his legs. Open before him was one of his favorite books: Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky. It told the story of a young and impoverished student in Russia who committed murder and what he suffered psychologically as a result. Georg believed that this was the most brilliant examination of the human psyche that a novel had ever given.
Georg knew that, considering the time of year, this may not be the most festive thing to be reading. However, he gladly threw himself into books and activities that required a lot of thought and concentration. In other words, anything that distracted his mind from going to one subject:
The woman he loved but could never have. No wonder he wanted to keep his mind away from that.
However, around ten o'clock, Georg reached the end of the books third section. If he started the next section now, he would keep reading through lunch and become irritable as a result when the children came home. Groaning, he set the book aside, stood up, and went to the window. Outside, a perfect layer of snow covered everything, and a light amount of snow fell. It was the perfect image of winter and the Christmas season outside. The children loved it, and Georg felt happy that he could give his children a much better Christmas than they had experienced in the past few years. He had done all that he knew Agathe and Maria would want him to: teaching them about Advent, going through the traditions with them, having them make Christmas lists for him, decorating the house, and getting a Christmas tree to decorate lovingly all together.
But throughout all of this, though there was a lot of love shared between father and children, everyone knew that something was missing. Even after five months, the wound still felt open, especially when music filled the house. All eight of them knew that the most beautiful voice was not amongst them.
For the Von Trapps, the saying of "Time heals all wounds" was only true on the surface. As life always does, it went on after the departure of Fraulein Maria. But in the beginning, it had been anything but easy.
The rest of the summer was brutal for the children. Immediately following the departure of Maria came the announcement of Baroness Schrader becoming their new mother. The seven of them had tried visiting Fraulein Maria at the abbey, but she had been in seclusion and not seeing anybody. Georg and Max had tried to make things cheerful for the children, but the Baroness had just made everything worse by talking of nothing but wedding plans. By the end of the summer, she had sealed her fate by trying to convince Georg to send the children to boarding schools, even Marta and Gretl, to "fix how wild and uncivilized that little Fraulein had made them." Safe to say, a hurricane had paled in comparison to Georg's reaction; no one in the house hadn't at least heard what happened. That same day, Baroness Schrader had departed the villa, the engagement sundered, never to be seen again.
From there, matters had gone from unbearable to tolerable and, at times, quite pleasant. School started, much to the children's relief, for now they had their studies and their friends to occupy a lot more of their time now. Georg had dedicated himself to being the best father he could be; after what had happened with Elsa, he was determined never to make a mistake like that again. In fact, the very next day after Elsa had left, he had phoned the abbey. However, the Reverend Mother had told him that Maria was no longer with them, and would not tell him where she had gone. That had not been a happy day, especially when he told the children their governess had disappeared.
Thankfully, the lessons that Maria had taught them all were firmly implanted in their hearts: they would not mope around and stop living for her sake, but lived life as fully and happily as they could. However, this was no easy task without the person who had made their lives fully and happy.
The shrill sound of a ringing telephone brought Georg out of his melancholy reverie that he often fell into at least twice a day: Where is she? How is she? Is she happy? Is she all right? Does she think of us? Does she think of me like I think of her? Relieved for another distraction, Georg went to the telephone at his desk and picked it up. "Georg Von Trapp speaking," he said.
"Captain, this is the Reverend Mother of Nonberg Abbey."
Safe to say, Georg was surprised to be hearing from this woman and this place. After all, had he not been told four months ago that Maria was no longer at the abbey? So what reason could the Reverend Mother have to call him now? Unless something had happened to Maria…
"Reverend Mother? What's happened? Is she…what is wrong?"
"I wonder if you could possibly come to the abbey today and see me. Nothing is urgent, but this is important; at least, to me it is, and I hope it will prove important to you."
The Captain did not hesitate in his answer. "Of course, Reverend Mother, I will be there within the hour."
There was only one subject, one person, that linked Georg to Nonberg Abbey, and that was Maria. Whatever the Reverend Mother wanted to speak to him about, he knew that it had to do with Maria. Immediately upon hanging up, he had put on the items of clothing he had previously discarded and went out of his study for his coat. After informing Frau Schmidt he would be gone for an hour or two, he walked outside into the snowing December air. He forced himself to drive at a normal pace, even though he wanted nothing more than to break the speed limit. The Reverend Mother had said that the matter was not urgent, but Georg was eager for any information he could get about the woman he loved.
Finally, he arrived at the abbey; though the drive was a relatively short one, it had seemed a lot longer to poor Georg. He rang the bell, and a kind nun had led him to the Reverend Mother's office. He was admitted at once.
"Captain," said the Reverend Mother as he came in, her expression and tone kind and polite, but also with a hint of coolness he did not miss. "Please close the door, and come sit down."
The Captain obeyed her, having no idea what to expect from this meeting and what he would learn. Because he had no idea what this meeting was about, he waited for the Reverend Mother to speak. She sat back down behind her desk, folded her hands and wasted no time.
"Captain, you may find this strange, me asking to see you several months after Maria left you. I have some information, but before I decide whether or not I can give it to you, I need some information of my own."
Her tone retained the same politeness and coolness, which meant that he had done something wrong in her eyes. Eager to please her and find out anything he could about Maria, he said humbly, "I will answer any question you ask me with honesty, Reverend Mother."
The Reverend Mother nodded. "Good. Now, my main question is this: what happened that made Maria leave the second time?"
The Captain's eyebrows went up. "The…second time?" was all he could say, for he was at a complete loss now.
"Yes, Captain," said the Reverend Mother. "I had a talk with her a few days after she had initially come back. After our talk, she concluded that it was best she returned to your house and at least finish out her term with your children. However, she came back not an hour later in tears, more defeated than I've ever seen her. I asked her if she had seen you. She replied that she had, and that she had no more business with you and your family."
This information was sending Georg for a loop. Maria had come back and he had not known about it? "Reverend Mother, I had no idea she…I never saw her again after the party, and neither have my children. They would have told me if they had."
Now the Reverend Mother's eyebrows went up. "You didn't see her?" She thought silently for a moment before speaking more firmly. The coolness had somewhat disappeared from her tone. "Captain, if there is one thing Maria is not, that is a liar. Therefore, even if you did not see her, she must have seen you and drawn her own conclusions."
"What day was this, Reverend Mother?" asked the Captain, desperate to solve this mystery.
"I believe it was the…third, yes, the third of August."
Georg racked his brains for all memories of that day. It had been a Wednesday, and a beautiful day at that. What had he done that day…After a minute of remembering, he spoke, "If she had come in the house, someone would have known and told me, so she never went inside. The only time that I was ever outside that day was the afternoon, when Elsa dragged – I mean, when my fiancé at the time took a walk around the grounds with me…" And run my ear off about every single option for floral arrangements…
A look of sad understanding crossed the Reverend Mother's face; she leaned back in her chair and folded her fingers. "I did not know you had married again, Captain."
"I haven't," said the Captain right away. "For about a year, I had been courting a lady from Vienna. My intention that summer was to bring her to my villa, introduce her to my children, and marry her before the summer was over. After…after the party, we made our engagement official, but it didn't last a month. She was not the woman I thought she was, and I was not the same man I had been before this summer, thank God…"
The Captain opened his mouth, as if he were going to say more, but then shut it again. Looking at the Reverend Mother, who was now looking at him with no hint of coolness anymore, he suddenly knew what to say. "Reverend Mother, do you believe, as I do, that to marry someone when you are truly in love with somebody else is wrong?"
An expression akin to relief, understanding, sadness and hope appeared on the Reverend Mother's face as she slowly nodded her head. After a pause, she spoke: "Captain, I know you are a very smart man. From the information you have, and the knowledge that Maria would not lie, what is the logical explanation to what happened when she went back the second time?"
And suddenly, the most logical explanation clicked in Georg's mind, not only why for the second time but the first time, too. As if it were yesterday, he remembered her eyes, her beautiful eyes, when they had danced. When the two of them had stopped in their dance, his arm around her, and their eyes locked. He remembered the confusion, the fear, and something else in her eyes that had made them all the more beautiful. Georg also had a sudden image of August 3rd, of Maria walking around to the back of the house and spotting him and Elsa walking along the lake, arm in arm, and of Maria running away without either of them ever seeing her.
"Oh, my God…" he breathed, leaning back in his chair and covering his mouth. Yes, it was the most logical explanation, but…was it possible? If this was true…Georg could feel his heart both lift and break at the same time. Lift because it meant she returned his feelings, and break because he had been the cause of her pain. His gaze returned to the Reverend Mother and said, "Please, Reverend Mother, tell me: Is she all right? If you know, please tell me where she is."
The Reverend Mother's expression was both gentle and compassionate. "I must say, Captain, it is a great relief to know that you have not intentionally hurt Maria. I do know where she is, but before I tell you – if I tell you – there are some things that you should know."
The Captain leaned forward, ready to hear anything or do anything that would reunite him with Maria.
The Reverend Mother continued. "Has Maria ever told you about her maternal grandmother?"
"Yes, who lives in France?" replied Georg nodding. "They write frequent letters to each other."
A sad look came to the Reverend Mother's face now. "Well, only a few days after that day she went and came back a second time, a letter arrived for Maria with a train ticket from her grandmother. She was quite ill, and wanted Maria to come at once. She did, and remained with her grandmother in France until early October…when she passed away."
Hearing this, Georg felt a great sadness for Maria. She had told him in their frequent conversations during the summer about her grandmother. While Maria was very guarded about talking of her past, he had been able to learn that this maternal French grandmother had been the only family she had left. "Oh, no…how tragic…" he said. My poor angel… Now he wanted nothing more than to find her and hold her to him, comforting her. If there was one thing he knew about, it was grief.
The Reverend Mother nodded sadly. "After the funeral in France, Maria came back to Salzburg and the abbey. She told me that she was no longer a postulant, and asked for help in finding a job and a place of her own. I've helped her do both. She still comes here often for mass, and we talk a bit."
Now Georg's goal was within reach: Maria was here, in Salzburg, and the Reverend Mother could give him the specific information he needed. "I would very much like to contact her, Reverend Mother."
The Reverend Mother gave him a piercing gaze; not unkind, but intent. "Captain, when you called four months ago looking for Maria, I told you the truth when I said she was not there. She was in France with her grandmother. The reason I refused to tell you her whereabouts at that time was because I thought that you had hurt her in some way, judging by the state she was in when she came back both times. While she was with her dying grandmother, she did not need anything to distract or worry her."
"I completely understand, Reverend Mother," said the Captain. "I've hurt the both of us; inadvertently, yes, but even so…if I'd only been honest with myself…" His voice drifted as he realized the truth: if he'd just been honest with himself, if he'd talked to her alone right after the dance, both of their pain could have been spared.
"Do not put all of the blame on yourself, Captain," said the Reverend Mother. "Though Maria never told me exactly what happened, I do not believe that it was you who caused Maria to leave the first time."
"What do you mean, Reverend Mother?"
The old woman sighed. "Well, from what Maria told me during our first conversation together, it sounds as if this Baroness had a private conversation with her before she left. I do not say this to criticize anybody; I am only being honest, for only by being honest can all these wounds be healed."
Upon hearing this, it made even more sense to Georg why Maria would leave like that during the party. Max inviting her to dinner – and, of course, watching them dance – would certainly give Elsa cause to action. She is very lucky she is already out of my life, for I will waste no more energy or thought upon her. I must think of Maria now.
The old woman watched the Captain process this, and then leaned forward in her chair, her hands folded on her desk. Now the Reverend Mother spoke in her most clear tone; she had reached the crux of her invitation.
"Captain, if I give you the information you seek, I would like to know what your intentions would be. Maria has gone through a lot in the past months: losing her only family, giving up the life she had dreamed of since childhood and her experience with your family. Though she is keeping herself productive and busy, she is quite lonely, and still sad and grieving from all that's happened, though she tries to hide it. It seems that she believes that she is meant to always be alone…I need to know that, if you allow her back into the lives of your family and yourself, it would be for good. She has been through too much pain, and anything else I am afraid will break her.
"You may wonder why I have waited until now to call you. I have tried many times to have Maria open up to me about what exactly happened this summer, but she shuts within herself and will not talk of it. Neither will she talk about her experience in France. I don't believe she has even let herself cry yet. There is no worse time to be alone than Christmastime, and I'm afraid of what may happen to her if she finally lets herself go and is alone. There is only so much I can do."
Georg had heard enough. The thought of Maria sad, grieving and completely alone was more than he could handle. He leaned forward and looked beseechingly at the Reverend Mother, willing her to see his sincerity and feelings as he spoke. "Reverend Mother, Maria has been nothing short of an angel to my children. She gave them love when I could not, and opened my eyes and heart to them again. My children love her as a mother, and they miss her greatly. I, too, miss her greatly. I love her with all of my heart, as I never thought I could love again. If it were up to me, I would see that Maria was never alone again, and with a family who not only loves her, but is her own."
The Reverend Mother listened and looked at him for a minute that seemed to last an eternity to poor Georg. Finally, she gave him a soft smile, took out a pen and paper, and wrote. When she finished, she handed it to him, and he eagerly read it. He smiled and stood up. "I will be forever grateful to you, Reverend Mother. It is easy to see why Maria speaks so highly of you." He bowed his head to her.
The Reverend Mother stood up too, and held out her hand to the Captain. "I am only relieved to know that Maria has a whole world of love waiting for her with open arms. She deserves it. Please let me know what happens after Christmas."
"I promise I will." The Captain took her hand with both of his own and gave it a hearty shake before leaving the office. He had never felt so overflowing with hope in his life.
The address that the Reverend Mother had given him was not that far away from the abbey. It belonged to a cottage on a cozy lane near the mountains, surrounded by strong tall trees. The cottage itself was quite small, as it was only meant for two people at maximum. With everything covered in snow, and the trees and mountains in the background, it could be the picture of a postcard. And the lights in the front window meant that she was home.
Georg drove slowly up the lane, and parked about two houses down from Maria's cottage. Suddenly he felt very nervous. Though he wanted to see her again more than anything, he was at a complete loss as to what to say. How could he even begin to tell her all that he needed to tell her? He couldn't exactly knock on the door and, once she opens it, say "I love you" and kiss her. God, I wish I could do that…
He sat there in his car frozen, for six minutes straight, trying to work up the courage to just get out of the car. But he wouldn't get out of the car until he knew what to say when he saw her again. Georg was a man who did not like to walk into any situation, whether on sea or on land, unprepared or without any kind of plan. And this was so important to his family and his sanity!
However, when those six minutes were done, movement at the cottage caught his eye. The light went out, and in the next minute, the red door opened. He held his breath without knowing it; in the next moment, Maria had come out of her cottage.
In that moment, seeing Maria again for the first time in five months, Georg felt his heart fill to the brim and his soul become completely at peace. How could I have been so blind before? I've been in love with her for so long, and have loved her for longer than perhaps even I know. Perhaps I started loving her on the very first day I met her. No, I did, absolutely. Oh, Maria…
And so his thoughts ran on as he watched her. She was bundled up in a black winter coat, with a blue scarf wrapped around her neck, hands deep in her pockets after locking her door, and earmuffs protecting her ears. Her cheeks were rosy in the December air, and her golden hair was just the same and just as beautiful as he remembered.
But as his eyes took in the entire sight of her, he saw that something was not right. A light snow was falling, and it was the epitome of a beautiful December day in Salzburg. But Maria gave it no notice. Georg could not count how many memories he had of Maria seeing everything with fresh eyes, not taking anything for granted. Whenever she had gone outside in the summer, even if it was raining, she would take a moment to look around and smile. Now, Maria kept her eyes downcast, hidden from him, and walked quickly down her front walk and down the sidewalk in the opposite direction where he was. Her pace was not as quick or energetic as he remembered, even in this cold air.
Yes. The Reverend Mother had been right, unfortunately, and his heart cried out for her. He had a very strong urge to start up the car and follow slowly behind her, just to see where she would go – and to keep her in his sight a little longer – but he didn't. She would definitely notice and become frightened, especially if she did not recognize him. So he remained still and did not move his gaze from her until she had disappeared round a corner.
Once she was gone, he slammed his hands against the steering wheel with a cry of frustration. This was directed at himself, for being so much of a coward that he couldn't approach her due to his nerves. But he did not allow himself that emotion for very long; Maria was more important. He had not wanted to believe the Reverend Mother, but now he had seen proof that Maria was not all right. The thought of her lonely and grieving, especially now around Christmastime, when someone like her should be the happiest of all, was more heartbreaking to Georg than anything else.
A new determination filled him, one that would not be swayed or shaken, as a plan began to form in his head. He turned the ignition and began to drive back to town. He had some errands to run before he picked the children up from school. They were going to have a long conference tonight, for if he were to go through with this fledgling plan, he would need all of their help to do it.
"Excellent!" said Maria, once the group of children had finished their arrangement of 'O Holy Night.' "I can see you have been practicing without me!"
The group of children all smiled and giggled at this, for indeed they had. Ever since Miss Maria had come to the orphanage two months ago as a music teacher and volunteer, their lives had brightened considerably. The favorite time of the day for most of them was their daily music lesson in the early evenings.
"I have a feeling that your performance in the town square tomorrow night will be absolutely wonderful," said Maria confidently.
"Do you really think so, Miss Maria?" asked Mina, a six-year-old girl with blonde braids.
"I know so," replied Maria with a smile for the little one. "I am amazed at the progress you all have made in the past two months. Just sing your very best and with all of your hearts tomorrow, and you will feel just how amazing you all are."
All twenty-eight children smiled at her. Miss Maria always knew exactly what to say to give them confidence.
A little bell could be heard, and all of them gave a simultaneous groan. Maria clapped her hands. "All right, dinnertime! I will see you all tomorrow afternoon."
"Good night, Miss Maria!" they all called to her as they exited the room. After picking up her things, Maria followed them out and then went off down another hallway to another big room. She heard baby coos and cries long before she entered.
"Oh, Maria, could you change Rachel and put her down for me?" said Ingrid once Maria came in. She, along with two other employees, was in charge of the orphans from infants to four years. They always had their hands full with the twelve children under their care, and they welcomed any help they could get. So Maria had taken to spending any free time she could volunteering there; she always stopped by the room after the daily music lessons, and nine out of ten times she would be needed.
She smiled at the request, and said, "Of course!" She almost skipped to Rachel's crib near the high window. Rachel was nearly four months old, and one of her especial favorites among the babies. Not only was Rachel a very pretty baby – with soft brown hair and rosy cheeks – she was also quite a happy baby. She only cried for legitimate reasons – hunger and potty time – and she loved to babble and coo, which made her all the more adorable.
Leaning over her crib, Maria smiled at the baby, who immediately stopped her fussing and smiled at Maria with a happy coo. "Hello, schatzi," she said as she picked up the baby. "Whew, you need a change! Let's take care of that before we put you to bed."
As Maria changed Rachel's diaper, the little baby babbled away happily, energetically moving her little arms as she let Maria change her. Sometimes, Maria could not resist bending down and giving her Eskimo kisses, which only made Rachel happier. Once the diaper was changed, Maria changed her into her warm winter onesie, and carried her to the rocking chair. Once Rachel was snuggled on her chest and shoulder, Maria softly sang lullabies to her, but Rachel was quite stubborn not to fall asleep, and just stay awake quietly babbling to herself.
Maria had run out of lullaby ideas, until one song she tried so hard not to think about came into her mind. Well, if it makes her fall asleep…
Knowing it was the most logical decision, Maria sighed deeply, rested Rachel's head back on her shoulder, and softly sang:
Edelweiss, edelweiss,
Every morning you greet me.
Small and white, clean and bright,
You look happy to meet me.
Blossom of snow, may you bloom and grow,
Bloom and grow forever.
Edelweiss, edelweiss,
Bless my homeland forever.
When the song ended, Maria could hear the soft, even breathing of Rachel near her ear, which meant she had fallen peacefully asleep. The fact that it had been that song to put Rachel to sleep caused Maria's heart to twist as though a knife had pierced it. But, as always happened when she was reminded of the past summer – and of one person in particular from that summer – she swallowed hard, pushed the feeling from her mind, and forced herself back to reality.
So, Maria got out of the armchair and slowly walked back to Rachel's crib, where she very gently put her back down on the soft mat. As she gently caressed her head, she felt Ingrid come up to her and stand by her side. "She is a blessed little one," she said softly. "Her adoption papers will be finalized tomorrow."
Maria gasped and smiled at Ingrid. "Oh, that's wonderful! She'll have a home in time for Christmas!"
"Yes," she said. "The parents will take her home on Christmas Eve, so be sure to stop by sometime tomorrow to say good-bye."
A little lump rose in Maria's throat upon hearing this, but she just smiled and nodded at Ingrid. "Anything else you need me to do?" she asked hopefully.
"No, Maria, they're all down and quiet," replied Ingrid, patting her shoulder. "Why don't you head home before it gets too dark outside."
"All right, then, see you tomorrow," said Maria, trying to sound as casual and cheerful as possible when she really felt the exact opposite. She put on her coat and slung her purse over her shoulder as she slowly walked out of the familiar building, not looking forward at all to the worst part of her day.
The worst part of her day, which she prolonged by walking home slowly in spite of the cold, was arriving at her empty house that just wasn't a home.
Georg did not say anything to the children until after dinner. He wanted to make sure they did their homework before dinner, as they always did. He knew that the mere mention of Maria's name would drive all thoughts of their schoolwork far from their minds. After their dinner was finished, the eight of them all gathered in the drawing room, which they did on most evenings. They would either read or sing together more often than not; sometimes, they would just talk. That room had born witness to the great strengthening of the bond between father and children.
When everyone was seated, Georg wasted no time. "Children, I have something very important to tell you."
The seriousness in his voice caused all seven of his children to lean forward at attention. They always listened when their father spoke in that firm, serious but gentle tone.
Georg took a deep breath. "I've found Fraulein Maria."
Though he expected a happy reaction, he had not expected that happy of a reaction. Instantly he was bombarded with questions and exclamations of joy from seven sides.
"Where is she?"
"Is she all right?"
"Is she far away?"
"Does she miss us?"
"Does she want to see us?"
"Please can she come back?"
"Please can we see her?"
Georg wished, for the first time in months, that he had his whistle back. Not to make them behave like sailors again, but to make them all be quiet so he could get a word in. "Children!" he finally had to exclaim, and they instantly quieted, waiting intently for what he would say.
After taking another deep breath, Georg told the children what he had learned about Maria, including her grandmother's death. All seven children had tears in their eyes by the end, for they knew only too well the pain of losing someone so important.
Georg concluded with this: "My children, I know how much you love and miss her…I feel the exact same way. She is the missing part of our family; I only wish I had realized it when you seven had. But we cannot change the past. What we can do something about is this: Fraulein Maria is grieving and alone, and if we don't do something, that is how she will spend her Christmas. Are we going to let that happen?"
The answer was immediate and obvious from all seven children. They would do whatever it took to get their beloved Fraulein back.
Georg smiled upon hearing the tumultuous response. "Excellent. Now, let's make a plan…"
And though it took past the children's bedtime, they did.
