Camille was simply brushing her hair in her room when the pain struck. She doubled over with intense cramping and a sudden and large amount of blood seeped thought the thin fabric of her skirt. She knew too well what that meant, having induced theses symptoms artificially before, but this time she wasn't the cause of it.

Tears fell and they weren't just for this baby but for all the babies she had lost, children that might have been and now never would. She couldn't remember the last time she had cried. She'd been so dead to her emotions for so long. Now it was like a dam bursting and she couldn't ebb the flow as much as she wanted to.

She should be happy she tried to tell herself. After all, had she really wanted to carry the baby full term and lose her figure? Some women didn't even survive childbirth or the infant didn't. Pregnancy was a waste of time, for her anyway.

The crying abetting, she thought of Kid Cole and Sister Ruth. They would never believe that she hasn't lost the baby on purpose, especially after her last statement to Kid.

"I guess I shouldn't have expected much considering I'm a practicing harlot, but it didn't matter to You that one of Your own was going to mother my bastard child. You are an unforgiving god as unforgiving as the people that serve You. It had no say in the sin that created it. Why am I even bothering? You only hear the prayer of the righteous and sometimes not even then, isn't that so?"

A fresh batch of hot tears fell. Like the words of Solomon, everything suddenly felt meaningless. What did her life mean? What had she accomplished in her 29 years? Nothing. Who cared about her? Nobody. It was all meaningless.

sss

Ruth had told the cook that she was schooling Lydia when she introduced them to each other, who had then insisted they wait while she sent the kitchen maid to her nearby house to get and lend them a slate board and chalk that had belonged to her now grown daughter.

Up in the room, Lydia practically trembled with excitement as she took a seat beside Sister Ruth. She wrote a letter on the slate and asked Lydia, "Do you know this letter?"

Lydia studied the letter with the hook on the bottom and a fancy loop at the top. "I "

"That's right and I is also a word. The kind of I you use when talking about yourself."

"Really? Is reading really that easy then?"

"Mostly and you've got a good start being able to tell one letter from another."

She wrote the words: will, for, am, and. They went over them until she had memorized them, which didn't take very long. Ruth opened the Bible to Psalms and pointed to a particular verse. "You're going to help me read this."

Lydia read the words she knew and Ruth read the rest, "I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made."

Lydia's face broke into a smile that made it worth it all when they were finished. "I really can learn to read the Bible, can't I?"

"You can. I went out and got you this Bible for your very own because I know that you can."

She touched the Bible's leather cover with awe; few things in her short life had ever truly belonged to her. "Who is the I in the verse? Everybody?"

"You bet. Can't anything God made not be wonderful." She flipped in her Bible to John and read her the story of how his disciples had asked whose sin had caused a certain man to be born blind. Jesus told them he was born this way so that the works of God could be revealed in him. "You see where the world sees a person who is less than whole or a sinful person, God sees a person that can be used to His glory no matter his faults or weaknesses and is loved more than you can possibly imagine. All we have to do is let Him."

She nodded slowly.

Ruth put down the Bible and picked up the primer instead, giving Lydia a chance to soak that knowledge in for a moment. "You ready to try reading some more letters?" she asked when she'd opened up the new book.

This time she nodded eagerly.

"I'll point, you say the letter and I'll read the words."

"A In Adam's Fall
We sinned all.
B Thy Life to Mend
This Book Attend.
C The Cat doth play
And after slay.
D A Dog will bite
A Thief at night.
E An Eagle's flight
Is Out of sight.
F The Idle Fool
Is Whipt at School."

Ruth only had to help her with E out of the 6 letters, but she stopped so as not to overwhelm her on her first day.

"What does it mean in Adam's fall we sinned all?" Lydia asked.

"It means that I ain't good and neither are you."

"And neither is my ma," she said simply.

"That's right. Not nobody. The person you imagine to the best person you can imagine, their righteousness is but filthy rags. They are as much sinners as the man that gets hung for his crimes."

This was news to Lydia. She had thought there was good people and then there was bad people and that's all there was to it. "So how does anybody get to heaven or mend their life like that poem says? Reading the book like it says?"

"The Good Book or the Bible, yes. It's a start. It's how we know what God has to say to us. He tells us how we can be saved and live for Him in it."

Lydia saw the sun in the sky and knew it was getting close to the lunch hour when her ma would be up. "I got to be getting back," she said before Ruth could explain more. "Ma checked up on me yesterday to make sure I was around. She's still madder than a wet hen about me bringing you two into her room."

"I understand. It's enough for one day anyway."

Lydia gave a short chuckle. "I don't think I'm an idle fool, but if that's what they do at school, whip you, I'm awful glad I didn't go."

She put an arm around her and laughed. "Won't nobody get whipped here and you're right you ain't no idle fool. Sorry I was so late coming to get you, but I ran into a little trouble trying to get the books. I'll pick you up right after breakfast though tomorrow." She handed Lydia the books to carry.

"You mean I get to take these home?"

"Of course you do. I got them for you."

Lydia set the books down to wrap her in a tight hug, which she gladly returned before they set off for the street no little girl should have ever had to see much less live on.

Camille watched Ruth and Lydia walking through grimy glass. She really should have someone wash the windows but most customers didn't care one way or the other and it really was a perfect metaphor for the state of her life.

She had removed all evidence of her miscarriage, but her womb felt so empty. She felt empty. Then inspiration hit. Maybe there was nothing she could do for the lost baby, but maybe there was something she could do for Lydia.