Authors Note: Decided to pop on in and write a few quick drabbles tonight. Don't forget to R&R and let me know what you think. I'm in need of some new ideas for some CTM one-shots so leave some prompts for me in your review! Disclaimer: I do not own Call the Midwife, nor do I own any of the characters mentioned.
Her feet felt as if they were being glued to the damp ground when she recognized the man and his son in the car, headlights shining through the thick morning fog like a light at the end of a tunnel. How long had she waited to see those faces again? The months spent in the Sanatorium were only bearable with his letters, even though she had waited so long to open them, just knowing that she could rely on receiving them every single week was a comfort. He would wait for her, and that's what mattered most in those days. Looking back on when she was finally released and she walked through the doors, now a free and healthy woman again, it felt as if those days were in another lifetime, and in a way, she supposed, they were.
Gone was her old life. Sister Bernadette was now no more, she was simply a lesson learned. She would look back on her years spent there as a nun with fondness. It had taught her so many things about God, life, family and of course, love. And she would never regret making the decision to become Sister Bernadette, either. But it felt good, she realized, to be back in her old clothing, as dusty and out-dated as they were. But she still didn't feel like the person she was before Sister Bernadette, either. She remembered Shelagh well - young, fresh and lonely, desperate for a family somewhere. She had moved to Nonnatus at a very young age, and she wasn't the same girl as then. She had changed greatly. She'd matured, not only in body, but in spirit. She'd found God and found a home, and yes, she'd found her love and her future as well.
This was a new beginning, a new life. She was reborn and she couldn't wait to become a truly new person. And if Patrick's letters were anything to go by, she was praying that she'd be clad with a new name as well.
Mrs. Shelagh Turner, she thought as he walked out of his car, his large, warm hand gently spread across her forehead, it did sound rather lovely.
