Sister Berthe walked into the small chapel next to the Abbey graveyard, making sure the wind hadn't blown any candles over. As she scanned the darkened room, the sound of muted sobbing caught her attention. She squinted her eyes, peering into the darkness to find a lone figure collapsed in front of the altar.
Berthe knew instantly who it was; she would have recognized that voice anywhere, but she had never heard it like that. Maria's posture was slumped, and her cries sounded broken, like she had been defeated. The postulant had always been so alive and full of energy that it unnerved Berthe to see her so quiet and hurt.
Berthe hesitated before walking over to her. She and Maria had never gotten along; they had different opinions on practically everything. But Berthe felt compelled to help in any way she could; the girl obviously needed someone to help her through her inner turmoil. In addition, perhaps the two of them could finally reach some level of understanding.
"Maria?" she asked quietly, not thinking about whether or not she should have disturbed her. There was no response, and Berthe walked over to a candle by the door. Lighting it, she watched as Maria straightened her posture but did not turn around.
"Maria?" Berthe said again and walked over to her. The postulant's eyes were red and puffy. Her nose was raw and her cheeks were smeared with moisture. Berthe set the candle down on the floor and stooped over to get Maria to stand up. The other offered no resistance as Berthe guided her over to a pew to sit.
"This is more comfortable for my old bones," Berthe said and smiled. Maria didn't return the expression; she looked up at the altar, which was covered in shadows as the candle flickered. A low rumble of the passing storm sounded, and Maria shivered.
"Shall I get you some water, child?" Berthe offered, studying her.
Maria shook her head, unable to voice anything.
Berthe smiled. "Quite a pair of storms," she offered. When Maria didn't respond, she sighed. "I'm sorry the presence of our unexpected guests has disturbed you."
Maria turned to look at her unlikely consoler.
"Are you unhappy that you saw them again?"
"No," Maria finally said, her voice not entirely convincing. "I liked seeing the children again."
Berthe smiled. "They are a charming bunch," she said. "And a handful. You must have been very busy those few weeks."
Maria's felt a genuine smile come to her face. "It didn't seem like it," she said. "It was a joyful experience. They're wonderful children."
Berthe noticed the light in Maria's eyes. "I must say," she started, "that I've never seen you in your element."
Maria stared at her in confusion. Berthe laughed softly. "Those children were scared to death when they first arrived. It wasn't until they saw you that they truly seemed to be calmer. Even with their father with them, they were happier when they saw you."
Maria inhaled, flattered.
"And you," Berthe continued. "I have to tell you that you've never looked more content than when you had those little ones in your arms."
The small smile remained on Maria's face as she thought about being with the family again and how at peace she felt when she saw them.
"Captain von Trapp is a very strong man," Berthe continued, watching Maria's reaction closely. "I don't know if it's wise of him to take seven children across the borders by himself like that."
Maria shook her head. "He is a proud, brave, and good man," she stated, and Berthe smiled at the vehemence of the declaration. "He can't stay, not with the Nazis here."
Sister Berthe nodded. "Are you glad you saw him again, too?"
The other opened her mouth to reply, but her throat tightened quickly and she swallowed, looking away to the safety of the altar.
The older nun smiled in affirmation but decided not to directly press the issue. "Would you like to hear a confession?"
Maria's head turned quickly at the offer. "Confession?" she repeated.
"Yes," Berthe said. "Do you know what the hardest part of the Lord's Prayer is for me to say?"
Maria shook her head, intrigued.
" 'Thy will be done,'" Berthe answered. "It always makes me stop and think. As the Mistress of Novices, I recite that to myself a lot. Is each girl that comes to us really called to be a daughter of Christ, or is she meant to be elsewhere?"
Maria opened her mouth, but no words come out.
"It's also something that I struggle with for myself," Berthe confessed. "Whether it's a simple choice or a life-altering decision, I have to remind myself that it's not what I want, but what God wants."
She smiled at Maria. "The trick is to know what God wants."
Maria looked confused. "I always thought God wanted whatever we wanted."
Berthe shook her head. "He does," she said. "But sometimes we don't know what we truly want."
Maria's eyes brightened with tears again, and she looked up at the altar.
Berthe sighed. "What is it, Maria?"
The girl wiped her eyes. "I'm so confused," she confessed. "I thought I belonged here, with you."
"Why?"
Maria stared at Berthe. "I've never had a home before I came here," she said. "This is my family, my life."
"Maria," the other said, taking her hands, "tell me something."
"Yes?" Maria's voice was barely above a whisper.
"When you saw Captain von Trapp again, how did you feel?"
Maria shook her head. "Scared."
"Of what?"
"Disobeying God's will."
Berthe nodded. "I see."
The two remained quiet for a moment. Maria exhaled and cast a teary glance up to the altar. She absently touched her lips.
"I sinned, Sister," she confessed, snapping her hand down from her mouth.
Berthe turned to stare at her, surprised. "Sinned?"
Maria nodded. "I wish he hadn't come here," she said, her voice catching. "I wish I had never seen him again."
"What happened?"
Maria cocked her head back to the graveyard. "We talked, the Captain and I," she started. "It all happened so quickly, but I never felt that way before. I felt as if I couldn't breathe. And he was just standing there, staring at me as if he could read my every thought."
"Did he hurt you?"
"No!" Maria exclaimed, the tears falling from her eyes. "Never! He would never... But I shouldn't have let it go so far. I should have walked away, but I couldn't help myself! I don't know what happens to me when I'm with him. I'm so confused!"
Berthe thought for a moment. "What else?"
Maria blinked. "I'm sorry?"
"You were scared, but what else?"
"Sister, I was wrong," Maria said, feeling her cheeks start to burn. "I'm so ashamed."
"No, before you realized whatever you were doing was supposedly wrong," Berthe insisted. "What else did you feel?"
Maria paused, remembering. She turned to look back at the spot where she and the Captain had stood. It was barely visible from her spot, but she could still see the corner window, and acute emotions flooded over her.
"Alive," she murmured.
Sister Berthe nodded in conclusion as she studied the expression on Maria's face. "Do you really think that you and God agree on what his plan is for you, Maria?"
Maria turned her head, her mouth dropping as she looked at the older nun.
"I know that you and I have never really seen eye to eye on many things, Maria," Berthe said. "And you know how I feel about your future here."
Maria narrowed her eyes, and Berthe smiled before the familiar argument resurfaced. "But for the entire time you've been with us, I have never seen the look on your face that I saw just now."
"Sister," Maria started, thinking of what Berthe had said. "What should I do?"
"Stop crying and pray about it," the other answered with authority. "The answer will come to you, my child. Above all, Maria, I want you to be happy. I want you to be where you belong. Whether it's with us or elsewhere is for God to know and you to figure out."
She took Maria's hands in hers and squeezed them in encouragement. "Remember," she said and rose to leave the girl alone to think and pray over what they had talked about. "'Thy will be done.'"
Sister Berthe slowly turned and exited the chapel and said her own silent prayer for the peace of mind that Maria so desperately needed.
***
Maria wasn't sure how many more twists of fate she could handle. First the von Trapp family had reappeared in her life, and then she found herself powerless as she stood in front of the Captain, completely under his spell. And now, she had actually bonded with Sister Berthe. If Maria hadn't been so desperately lost and upset, she would have laughed aloud at the irony.
She gave a wry smile to the altar. "I wonder if you're through amusing yourself," she commented. She turned her head back to the corner window, almost seeing two figures standing there, indulging in a forbidden passion for just a moment.
Maria sighed deeply. While she was grateful for Sister Berthe's confidence and wise words, she still had no idea as to what to do. Ever since she had returned to the Abbey, everyone had avoided speaking with her as to her reasons for her premature arrival. Even Mother Superior hadn't asked to speak with her; Maria suspected the Reverend Mother was waiting for her to come to her when she was ready.
The trouble was that Maria didn't know what she wanted any more. The feelings she had when she was with the Captain were undeniable. She loved him, and she hadn't stopped. But she wasn't sure what she meant to him.
The Baroness had said that he was in love with her, but that he would "get over it." Maria had believed her; what did she, Maria, know about such things?
But his actions and words towards her told her differently. Her breath caught in her throat at just the memory of the passionate look on his face as he stared at her and pleaded with her to go with him. Her heart pounded as she heard his voice in her head, how rough with emotion it was. She had never heard him like that, like a man begging for his life. And it was all because of her.
Was it possible that he really did love her?
Maria shook her head. Even if he did, there was nothing they could do about it now. The family was leaving the next morning, and she would remain in Austria.
Alone.
She shivered at the thought, but tried to push the fear from her mind. It wouldn't be appropriate for her to go with them. She would be an unmarried woman traveling with a family, headed by an unmarried man. The impropriety of it almost made her give a bitter laugh.
Her home was there, in the Abbey. She was only meant to be the governess of the von Trapp children for a few months. She had to drive the feeling of belonging, of being part of a real family for the first time in her life, out of her heart. It just wasn't meant to be.
That was what she tried to keep telling herself, but she found herself continuously being pulled to thoughts of them, of him. She smiled as various images from their time together earlier that summer flashed before her mind's eye, each vision happier than the previous.
It was useless, she decided. All her life, she knew where she was meant to be, but now was completely at a loss. Casting another glance up at the altar, she sighed in defeat.
"I can't do this without you," she prayed aloud. "Please help me."
To be concluded…