Sister Sophia didn't even notice the singing until it stopped. Chapel had just ended, but the hymn was still echoing in her mind. Or so she thought.
"Maria-" The firm voice ended the postulant's tune.
"Yes, I know," Maria murmured, her eyes lowered. "I'm sorry."
Sister Bernice nodded, letting the postulant know she was forgiven, but her face was still stern. "Aren't you supposed to be in the library?" she asked.
"Yes," Maria affirmed.
Sister Bernice walked off, and Maria began making her way in the other direction, walking slowly; clearly sadder than before.
Sister Sophia sighed. Maria always seemed to be in trouble. It couldn't have been more than a week since she had been caught sliding down the banister, not for the first time. And one of her recent visits to the Untersberg, which the postulant referred to as 'her mountain' had ended up lasting all night.
But the biggest problem was singing. Maria could not seem to stop singing. And getting caught singing made her sadder than anything else.
The nun looked back at Maria, head bowed, shuffling her feet her feet as she made her way to the library, and sighed again.
She had seen that sad, confused postulant before.
Alone in the library, Maria bit her lip as she sorted through the pile of books. It was in part because she was dismayed, but mostly it was to stop herself from singing again.
She knew she was lucky it hadn't been Sister Berthe that had caught her. She had already had to kiss the floor four times in the last three days. She shouldn't be singing in the Abbey; she knew that. But she just couldn't help herself. She couldn't stop singing wherever she was; had never been able to.
Some of the earliest memories Maria had of the Abbey were of singing. Whether it was the sound of the choir in the chapel or the sound of singing as the sisters made their way to vespers, she loved to climb the tree by the wall, wait and listen to the beautiful music.
She had wanted to be a nun for as long as she could remember. She had never really wanted anything else. Growing up hearing singing at the Abbey, she had never realised there were so many rules surrounding it. But even though it was proving to be far more trying than she'd expected, this was still the life she wanted to live.
Her biggest worry was that she wouldn't be able to do it.
"The singing was always the hardest part for me."
Maria looked up to see Sister Sophia standing over her.
"Really?" She had heard Sister Sophia's voice often; assuming she made it to chapel on time. She was one of the few nun's whose voice stood out from the congregation. She obviously enjoyed singing and Maria could tell, even with no formal music training, that she had a lovely voice.
But she wouldn't have guessed that she had struggled just as much with singing in the Abbey as she was now.
The older nun nodded.
"How do you manage?" Maria asked timidly.
"It was hard," she sighed. "It still is hard. But I sing in the chapel. And whenever I leave the Abbey, I sing, even if it's only to myself."
Maria's eyes widened. "But-"
"It is only inside the Abbey that there is a rule about singing." Sister Sophia stated simply.
Maria had heard that before. She'd heard it so many times she had lost count, and she was sure she'd hear it just as many times before she took her vows and entered the novitiate.
"Wouldn't that still go against the rules?"
"Not necessarily. Singing in the chapel isn't forbidden," Sister Sophia pointed out. "I also don't believe one should give up their identity because they have joined the convent."
Maria pondered for a moment. Though she didn't know every nun in the Abbey, she could definitely distinguish between those she was acquainted with.
Sister Margaretta. The Mistress of Postulants was one of the kindest people Maria had ever met. Many times, when she had returned to the Abbey after being out, either on her mountain or in and around Salzburg, late as always, had Sister Margaretta unlocked the gate for her.
Sister Berthe. If Maria was completely honest with herself, the Mistress of Novices scared her. She knew all that the nun wanted was for everything to run smoothly, but she couldn't remember how many times in the three years she'd been at the Abbey that she had been scolded by Sister Berthe, while she could count all the times she hadn't on one hand.
The Reverend Mother. To Maria, she lived up to her name in every sense. She was the only mother figure Maria had ever known and she loved her as one would love their own mother. And though she was strict regarding the lifestyle of those in the convent, Maria had never seen the Abbess show anything but pure kindness to anyone.
And now Sister Sophia; who loved singing as much as she did, and had faced similar challenges on her own journey in the convent life.
At a glance, it certainly seemed like all the nuns were the same, but Maria could see Sister Sophia was indeed right. Joining the Abbey had not taken away the identity of these women. Maria decided then and there that she would make sure she was the same. She would have to change certain things about herself; she'd always known that. But she would not lose herself completely.
"Maria, do you remember the day when you were in the garden, singing at the top of your voice?"
Sister Sophia's voice brought Maria back to the present moment. She looked up at the nun and blinked. She had no idea why Sister Sophia would be bringing this moment up. But she did remember; it was a moment she could not possibly forget.
"Yes," she said, the memory making her feel guilty all over again. "When the Reverend Mother came to the window, I stopped."
"I wish you hadn't." Sister Sophia said softly. She had seen, or rather heard, the young postulant singing as she wandered about the garden, singing a sweet little tune of her own making; a tune that had died on her lips when the Abbess had paused at the window as she walked down the corridor.
Though nuns; postulants especially, were not permitted to sing in the Abbey, Sister Sophia loved hearing Maria sing. It wasn't simply that the young woman's spirit was infectious, though that was true. But she reminded Sister Sophia of herself so much. She had been reprimanded just as many times in her days as a postulant as Maria was now, for singing when she shouldn't have been.
"You know, Maria," she added. "You have a beautiful voice."
"I shouldn't be concerned about whether or not my voice is beautiful," Maria said. She was, in part simply parroting the older nun's words; she had never believed any part of herself to be beautiful. "I am going to be nun, and I mustn't be selfish."
"Maria," Sister Sophia said gently. "You are the most selfless person I have ever met."
Maria looked up in disbelief, but the nun's expression indicated she was completely serious.
"Remember yesterday," Sister Sophia continued. "When Sister Dorothea tripped over in the courtyard? You immediately rushed over to ask if she was alright, and finished her task when she couldn't."
Maria nodded mutely. She did remember.
"Or last week when you were out giving food to the poor? Sister Margaretta told me you sat down and talked with a little boy."
"It just seemed like the right thing to do," Maria answered.
"It was," Sister Sophia assured her. "You think first of others; you always have. There is no shame in recognising the gifts God has blessed you with."
"Even as a nun?"
"Even then," she declared. "For you can use your talents to praise Him."
Maria nodded slowly, but Sister Sophia could see she wasn't yet convinced. She reached out a hand to the young postulant.
"Come with me."
They arrived at the garden, off the side of the Abbey's main building, where the nuns grew a variety of fruits and vegetables. Despite the fact it made her desire to sing stronger than anywhere else in the Abbey, Maria loved spending time here; out in the sunshine and fresh air.
Sister Sophia quickly picked her way through to the middle of the garden, before beckoning Maria to join her. Confused as she was, Maria wasn't in the mood to get in any more trouble, and walked over to stand by the older nun.
Neither spoke for a moment, andjust as Maria was about to ask what was going on, Sister Sophia spoke up.
"Sing."
Maria felt as though her jaw hit the floor. She quickly looked around. They were alone in the garden.
She wanted to. Oh how badly did she want to open her mouth, twirl on the spot as she had done countless times before on her mountain and sing whatever song popped into her head.
She would have wanted to even if they hadn't been alone. With only her and Sister Sophia present, it was hard to resist the temptation.
But she knew she shouldn't. There was right and there was wrong. And then there was really wrong. Singing in the Abbey wasn't allowed, especially from the postulants. And the last thing she wanted was for Sister Sophia to get in trouble because of her.
"But-" she began but Sister Sophia interrupted:
"Only in the Abbey."
When Maria remained silent, Sister Sophia just smiled. "I'll start."
Even with the warning, Maria was still startled when Sister Sophia started singing. Anxious, she looked around the garden again.
They were still the only people present, but hearing the older nun sing was all it took for the last of Maria's resolve to crumble. She barely managed to keep her mouth closed long enough to race inside, bend over and kiss the floor.
Somehow that made her feel better about what she was about to do.
When the song ended, Maria was smiling broadly. Sister Sophia reached out to her and took the postulant's hands in her own.
"There are ways to cope, Maria," she assured her. "Don't forget that. And never, ever lose who you are."
Maria's smile widened. For the first time since arriving at the Abbey, she truly believed she could live the life of a nun.
"Thank you, Sister," she murmured.
I know I should be writing Gazebo Chronicles before starting anything new, but in light of Marni Nixon passing away at the end of July I pushed this story up to the front of my 'to-write' list. Given her career; particularly the connections to Julie Andrews' career, I liked the idea of Sister Sophia and Maria having a connection.
So long farewell Marni. May you rest in peace.