1881

"L'Éternel est mon berger: je ne manquerai de rien. Il me fait reposer dans de verts pâturages, il me mène à des eaux paisibles. Il restaure mon âme; il me conduit dans des sentiers de justice, à cause de son nom. Même quand je marcherais par la vallée de l'ombre de la mort, je ne craindrai aucun mal; car tu es avec moi: ta houlette et ton bâton, ce sont eux qui me consolent." The little girl in the chair yawned; she preferred the animated stories of Daniel and Jacob to the stuffy Psalms. Didn't everyone?

She snuck a glimpse at the shadow of the still nun. Was she sleeping? The office was dark and stuffy enough to fall asleep at a moment's notice and the Mother Superior was hardly a young woman. She was about to close the huge Bible and go to Sister Clemence early when a very-awake voice asked, "Why did you stop reading, Marie-Christine? Please, continue."

She groaned inwardly. "Oui, Mother." These lessons had hardly been her idea; the Mother Superior believed that, in order to become an accomplished woman, Christine must receive constant tutelage. She received lessons from the nuns in morality, speaking, sitting, eating, walking, singing, cooking … Even when she brushed her teeth at night, Sister Clemence stood by to make sure that she was tidy and responsible. It was all a little much for a girl her age. "Tu dresses devant moi une table, en la présence de mes ennemis; tu as oint ma tête d'huile, ma coupe est comble. Oui, la bonté et la gratuité me suivront tous les jours de ma vie, et mon habitation sera dans la maison de l'Éternel pour de longs jours. Amen." Finally, she'd finished that godforsaken chapter. "Um … any more, Mother Abbess?"

"No, Marie-Christine, that will be enough for today. I shall have Sister Clemence bring you back to your room." The elderly woman pulled on a bell cord next to her chair. The little girl gently closed the Bible and replaced it on the shelf. "Your reading is coming along quiet nicely, my child."

"Merci, Mother. Sister Clemence says that I'll be starting on Latin soon." The Mother Abbess nodded her approval and even allowed for a rare smile to cross her face. Christine, as everyone but the Mother Abbess called her, was precocious for a child of eight, unbelievably so. The nuns were all astounded with her academic progress, especially since she was such a remarkably young eight-year-old. She couldn't fairly be declared short or tall, but no matter how much Sister Antoine made her eat, she remained rail-thin. Her skin was pale as fresh milk without even a spattering of freckles to mar it and the black frocks she wore only heightened the contrast. But her most striking feature was the bright red hair that curled down to her shoulders. It was gorgeous, but the Mother Abbess found it inappropriate for a young Catholic girl and demanded that Christine wear a scarf in the abbey and a hat on the street.

There was a knock on the door. "Mother Abbess?" Sister Clemence, a woman half the age of most of her fellow nuns, stepped nervously into the room. She had been a nun for the past six years and had spent the last eight caring for her young charge, but fetching Christine from her daily lessons with the Abbess still intimidated her. Christine was always at ease with the elderly nun, but Sister Clemence had always found the office a little scary. "I've come to take Christine."

"Ah, there you are, Sister Clemence. Marie-Christine gave me the pleasure of informing me that you will begin to teach her Latin soon."

The nun bowed her head. "Yes, Mother. Christine is very bright; she can already understand our prayers in Latin and knows much of the Mass. It is a pleasure to teach her."

"Sister Clemence compliments you, Marie-Christine, and I can see that it is not without merit. You will make a fine nun someday." The little girl lowered her eyes, quickly masking whatever emotion she felt to those words. The Mother Superior didn't seem to notice, but Sister Clemence did. She grasped Christine's hand comfortingly. "Now run along with Sister Clemence."

"Thank you, Mother."

Sister Clemence led the little girl out of the room quickly. Christine spoke cheerfully, but did not mention the look Sister Clemence had noticed in the girl's eyes when the Abbess spoke. It was not until late that night, when she was helping Christine into her nightgown that anything was said. "Sister Clemence?" Christine suddenly asked. "When do you know if you want to be a nun?"

The nun shrugged as she began plaiting Christine's hair. "It's different for everyone, I suppose. Why do you ask?"

"It's about what Mother Superior said today. She said I would make a good nun. All the other Sisters say it, too. Sister Antoine says I could maybe be a lady's maid or companion, but even she says I'd make a better nun. But I don't want to be a nun or a lady's maid or any of that, Sister!"

Sister Clemence laughed at her sincerity. "Well, what do you want to be?"

"I want to be an actress!" the young girl exclaimed.

"An … an actress?" she repeated. Christine nodded eagerly and Sister Clemence suddenly felt lightheaded. "Christine, you mustn't say such things."

"But what's wrong with being an actress?"

"Actresses aren't … well, respectable women don't … you see, good girls become …" Sister Clemence struggled for the right words and Christine giggled. "Christine, listen to me. Actresses aren't the type of women you want to be seen with. Girls from good breeding don't become actresses, especially not good Catholic girls. You have to promise me that you won't every talk about that ever again. If the Mother Superior heard you say that, you'd be doing dishes with Sister Antoine for a year and spend the rest of the time praying."

"But … Sister, I don't understand." She knew she had somehow overstepped the line, but why? Men acted out scenes from the Bible in the chapel all the time and she knew that there were women actresses in the city. She had never seen them of course: Sister Clemence kept her close to her side when they went out. But there had to be actresses somewhere in Paris.

"You're only a little girl, you shouldn't understand. Just promise me you won't say anything or think about it again."

"Yes, Sister, I promise."

"That's my good girl. Now off to bed with you." Christine clambered into her bed and pulled the coverlet up to her little chin. Sister Clemence smiled. "Goodnight Christine, and don't think so much about it. Just dream tonight." Christine nodded and closed her eyes.

Sister Clemence blew out the lamp and closed the door. As she walked down the hall, she thought to herself … An actress? God forbid, but she should have known. She thought of the box inside the valise, so many years ago … The Moulin Rouge. Could blood ties really be so strong? But no, she mustn't think about that. Christine was just a young girl and her aspirations would quickly be replaced by some other fantasy.

And yet, she couldn't help but wonder…