Disclaimer: All rights go to the real Jennifer Worth and Heidi Thomas.

In 1957 if anyone told me I would leave the Order and marry, I would not have believed them. But all of that was going to change in a year's time. I was content with my vocation, and I loved teaching the others from my experiences, but 1958 as a whole changed my life, and that is where I shall begin.

I should probably give you some background, although you probably know some of it. I came to the Order of St. Raymond Nonnatus in 1948 right after passing my nursing exams. And I felt the Call while I was studying. I always loved little ones. I was the one who acted like her dolls were real babies when I was younger, although I was the youngest and was not mimicking Mum, but I did have a few younger cousins I grew up with.

It started at the antenatal clinic right after Jenny's birthday that year, although to be honest, I couldn't stop thinking about him for some time before that. Trixie made some comment about Patrick dressing poorly and Timmy looking unkempt, and I scolded her for talking so poorly of them. He dressed comfortably, and it was probably hard to figure out how to parent Timothy on his own. Kenna did much better than Timmy did, but she is a few years older. The next Tuesday, I was the one to sew the button back on Patrick's surgical coat.

But it really began in June of that year. We had a TB case at the maternity home, and Sister Julienne was supposed to come with him to a medical board meeting to plead for an x-ray van in Poplar, but she couldn't make it. I gladly volunteered. We convinced them, and that is where our story truly begins.

"Doctor Turner." Sister Bernadette entered the small clinical room.

"Sister." He answered.

"What a day we've had." She beamed.

"Indeed." He replied

"Is all well?" She asked

"Would you mind sitting?" He gestured toward one of the chairs.

"Of course." She sat, and he slid a card to her.

"This has my name on it."

"Yes, the lesions are small, but there are more than one."

"I see. How many?" She asked.

"Doctor McGuiness counted nine or ten in the upper lobe…. Have you had any symptoms?" "No, a little breathlessness, maybe." He reached for her hand and squeezed it.

"Doctor, you know I can't…. I have to go." She rushed out the door and ran toward the chapel. It was time to think and to pray.

Sister Julienne waited for the doctor to knock on her door. He looked so frantic, so hopeless when he asked to speak with Sister Bernadette.

"How did it go, Doctor? Is she all right?"

"I don't know, Sister, I told her the diagnosis, and she ran off."

"It's quite understandable. Her grandfather died of TB when she was a teenager; she was rather close to him. A few years later she came to us as a postulant after completing her training as a nurse. You have a lot to learn."

"Sister?"

"I can see the way you look at each other. Midwifery and medicine was all she knew growing up; her father is a doctor in Scotland, and her mother is a retired midwife. And she loves children; she's a natural. I see the look on her face when she gives a baby to its mother; she doesn't want to let go. "

"I've noticed it too. And she's really good with Kenna and Tim. What is her given name?"

"Shelagh Mannion." Sister Julienne replied.

"As in Doctor Mannion?" He asked.

"Yes, that's right. You went to help when he had to take some time off and lived with them for a while. Fifteen years ago, correct?"

"Yes. I didn't realize it was her, but now I can see it now. I should have known when we delivered the Carter twins. It was something she said. "

"I'll go to her and see what comfort I can offer. You've already called the Sanatorium, I assume?"

"Yes. And I'll driver her over. They contacted the London and ordered a more detailed x-ray for tomorrow morning."

The chapel was a place of comfort and togetherness, but it was deserted. Sister Bernadette sat on one of the chairs with her head in her hands.

"Sister, what's the matter?" Sister Julienne sat next to her.

"I can't deal with this. It's all coming back, Sister. The hospital, knowing what will happen next, just waiting for the news. I'm younger than he was…."

"It's going to be okay; you're going to be okay. " She wrapped her arms around the younger woman. "We've already spoken to the Sanatorium; you're going to fight this and win. It's clear to see He has a purpose for you beyond this. "

"Sister?" She asked.

"I can't claim to know His will fully, but I do know you are going to make it through. They caught it early, and you were healthy otherwise. Doctor Turner is taking you for the more advanced x-ray tomorrow and then to St. Anne's. Get some rest. God be with you. "

"And you as well." Sister Bernadette replied. She rose and began to leave. "Sister?"

"Yes?" Julienne replied.

"Do you have all my medical records?" She asked.

"I have them on file. And, Sister, remember He won't give us more than we can bear."

She entered the kitchen. "What's this I hear about you and the doctor? Trixie insisted.

"Don't mind Trixie. Are you all right?" Cynthia asked

"Something was amiss on a few of the x-rays. Mine was among them."

"I'm so sorry, Sister." Cynthia hugged her.

"It's quite all right; I'm going to the Sanatorium for the Triple Treatment. Doctor Turner is driving me over for a better x-ray tomorrow. He insisted. I don't want to be a bother to anyone."

"You're not a bother at all, Sister!" Cynthia cried. At that exact moment the phone rang, and Trixie went to answer it.

"Are you really okay, Sister?" Jenny finally asked. "Do you need anything?"

"Prayers for my recovery. Letters would be nice too; I would like to know what happens in my absence."

"Of course. We'll even come to visit."

"Sounds lovely."

The nuns rose at the usual time the next morning. Sister Bernadette joined them for the last time before she left. As they rose, Sister Evangelina stopped her. " You're going to fight this and come back stronger than ever. Get plenty of rest, and for Heaven's sake, don't be hard on yourself. "

"Sister, I… I'll try not to." She exited the convent doors to the car.