What is love if it cannot be acknowledged?
The words echoed in her mind as she made her swift exit from the garden and up to her private room. The letter should have not come as a shock to her, for she'd been expecting it, and indeed had asked for it, since last visiting Charles. Nonetheless, now she held it in her hands, a wave of emotion - sadness and some guilt – washed over her, threatening to overwhelm her and show itself as tears rolling down her cheeks. But she swallowed them, for she was always in control of her emotions and these were selfish ones that she didn't want to be overcome by.
Pacing her room for a moment, clutching letter in hand, she came to the bookshelf and pulled out the Revelations of Divine Love. A book well thumbed over the years. Opening it, it fell to the page, or more accurately the photo, that had occupied it for so many years. The photograph that reminded her of the path she hadn't taken. It was both painful and beautiful in equal measure. Clutching the book, the photograph and the letter, Sister Julienne knelt down beside her bed and began to pray, a familiar prayer subject over the years – of the path she had chosen not to take and for the courage for the one that she was now on.
Even thought Shelagh knew that herself and Sister Julienne had been blessed to have a particularly special bond over the years, it still seemed peculiar to her to be the one going to offer her support, and not the other way around.
Whilst out, Tom had stopped her to say that he felt her presence might be needed at Nonnatus house, because it looked as though Sister Julienne might have received some bad news by way of a letter. Shelagh had changed her direction immediately, unsure of exactly what she had to offer. All she knew, was that if she was needed by Sister Julienne then that was where she should be.
Who's to say that we would have found as much together, as we did apart?
Charles words went round and round Sister Julienne's head as she gathered up the picked flowers from the garden and made her way to the chapel. Her work was all she had as way of comfort for now, and the simple act of gardening and refreshing the vase of flowers was all she could bring herself to commit to, at present. She set down the book, letter and photograph on the chair whilst starting to change the flowers.
"Sister?" came a quiet voice from the entrance of the chapel.
Sister Julienne closed her eyes briefly, a flick of relief and emotion swept over her. It was Shelagh.
"Forgive my intrusion, Sister," Shelagh began.
Sister Julienne turned, looking her young friend in the eye as she came towards her, "My dear, you are never an intrusion."
Shelagh smiled and came to stand opposite Sister Julienne and took her hands. This had always been their symbol of support for one another, the physical sign that they were always a strength for each other in times of difficulty.
Sister Julienne allowed herself a smile giving the hands a squeeze, "What can I do for you, my dear?"
Shelagh shifted almost awkwardly and let go of the Sister's hands. Never breaking the eye contact between them, she put her hands on Sister Julienne's upper arms as if to create a place of safety between them – of love. "I'm here for you," she began.
A look of confusion crossed the older woman's eyes – how could Shelagh possibly know her currently fractured heart?
"I saw Tom outside earlier," Shelagh said by way of explanation. "I thought you could use... a friend," she offered.
With one nod of the head, Sister Julienne granted her well-constructed wall to dissolve slightly and allowed the former sister to embrace her. Who could understand her inner turmoil better than Shelagh, who had faced something so similar in the recent times?
Sister Julienne gestured to two chairs at the front of the chapel, and once seated she handed Shelagh her copy of the Revelations of Divine Love, and then, carefully laid the photo of her and Charles and the letter on top. Sister Julienne watched Shelagh gently unfold the letter and read, a sad smile on her face. She looked up, catching Sister Julienne's eye who was waiting for her to piece together the story, to realise this was what she was referring to in the Sanatorium when Shelagh was so racked with indecision over the path to take.
Folding the letter back up, Shelagh gently picked up the photo of the young couple, turning it over as if it were made of the most fragile glass. Sister Julienne appreciated her gentleness.
"I..." Sister Julienne stammered. "I loved him."
The words tumbled from her, falling from her lips before she hardly had time to stop them. But she knew they were safe with Shelagh. She had not even dared think them since joining the Order let alone utter them out loud.
Shelagh nodded. She understood. She understood the the pain of deciding between the path you were called to and the path you thought you once were. For Sister Julienne, the call to the religious life had been the strongest, but that didn't make letting go of what could have been, any less painful.
"I hurt him so very much," she added. "And it is a regret I have always carried."
"The choice you made? Or the hurt you caused?" Shelagh asked – it was a question she suspected that Sister Julienne has been to afraid to ask of herself at times.
"Sometimes I hardly know," said Sister Julienne, her words scorched with pain and sadness. "In those early days I was so confused and so angry that God had made me choose. I know that this is the path I was always supposed to be on. Of course I know that. I just hardly know why I had to cause hurt and pain to get here. To Charles. And to myself."
"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God." Shelagh quoted. "I do not know why, Sister. But I do know that your journey has meant that your compassion and gentleness for others is greater and stronger for it. And I hope that that can provide some comfort to you on the darker days," Shelagh offered. In truth, she could think of no-one in the world who ever deserved less pain and suffering than her Sister and it hurt to know she had faced such difficult and dark times.
Standing up, Sister Julienne returned to the flowers that she was carefully placing into the vase. Such a strong admission of emotion required a physical distance suddenly, or she was in danger of being overcome. She was not afraid of emotion, only simply that she had come to know her place at Nonnatus. She was the strength and wisdom of all that she came into contact with. She supposed some might call it pride, but she felt it was God's direct calling to her now – to be the physical symbol of the strength he provides. She could certainly use some of that right now.
"Who could I turn to if not you?" she said as if speaking her thoughts out loud to Shelagh, who was looking on at her with great compassion. "Who would console me if not you?"
"You don't need me to console you - the words are in here," Shelagh said carefully, gesturing down to both to the letter that had been so carefully written, and to St Julian of Norwich's book – which contained such wisdom. "And you know them in your heart as I do."
Careful not get to caught up in the emotion, Sister Julienne responded to the more practical matters at hand, "The money he left us will restore the building to such good order. Our clinical certificate will be renewed without question. We can carry on serving the people who need us."
"Do you not believe that it was meant? The chance you didn't take was intended all along...?" Shelagh knew the answer to this already. She knew that Sister Julienne knew it deep down in her heart as well.
"I don't know..." her voice began to falter. Turning to look at Shelagh she added, "and I don't know how to not know any more. I have so often had to be the wise one."
"It is in here, Sister," Shelagh said gently, both referring to the book and to her own heart, "Just as much for me as it is for you. What, do you wish to know your Lords meaning in this thing? Know it well. Love was his meaning."