A series of essays.....
 |
| ST. PATRICK CATHOLIC CHURCH LOCATED IN TERRE HAUTE, INDIANA |
.....as seen through my eyes!
By: Jacqueline E. Hughes
Mr. Carson, played by the actor, Jim Carter, of recent Downton Abbey fame, puts life into perspective for all of us.
For those of you who follow Masterpiece and the Downton Abbey series on your local PBS station each Sunday evening......, (I record it and watch the program by nine o'clock on Monday morning), you will know about the character named Mr. Carson quite well. As the butler of the great estate, Mr. Carson is an innocent and loyal man who is nostalgic for the old order, traditional to a fault, and loyal and devoted to both the family and it's way of life.
Mr. Carson has accepted life with all of its pitfalls, class distinctions, and moments of stark reality, as a child might if he or she were so deeply protected from the outside world by everyone who loved them. Theirs is not to ask, but to accept; not to question, but to carry-on.
 |
MR. CARSON PORTRAYED BY
ACTOR, JIM CARTER
|
So, when he exclaimed, "Life is short, death is sure. That is all we know," I was not surprised at how hard the words hit me.
How nice it would be to be able to see the world in black and white, omitting the entire gray area in between.....once again! To view the world as right or wrong, good or bad, happy or sad, in such an innocent and straight forward manner, would take me back to my early childhood. An accepting, unpretentious time of my life when 'older brother' ruled the roost and my love for him allowed it to be so. A time when parents always knew what was best for you and cold shivers would travel up my spine whenever I even imagined losing any of them in some horrific manner!
Mr. Carson has taken this feeling one step further by his admission of truth in understanding that life is minimal and it will certainly end in death and we are not to question or challenge this simple fact for it is inevitable. "That is all we know."
It wasn't until around the fourth grade while attending St. Patrick Parochial Elementary School in Terre Haute, Indiana, that Carson's statement first penetrated my personal and innocent impression of what I believed life to be all about. This 'imprint of reality' left its mark on my soul that will last an entire lifetime.....
Her long and luxurious, golden hair was often tamed within two thick braids that nearly covered the back of her slim silhouette. I was walking right behind her and heading back to class as we navigated the halls of St. Patrick School that particular September afternoon. How I envied her heavenly hair and pictured her sweet Mother overlapping each heavy strand as a braid began to form within her long, silky fingers. I'm certain that my sin of envy was confessed to our parish priest more often that autumn than I care to admit. "Father, it has been one week since my last confession....."
 |
PAROCHIAL CLASSROOM IN
THE EARLY 1960'S
|
She was a year older than me and I admired her because she was never ashamed to talk to or play with the younger kids on the playground during recess. And, I knew she was an exceptionally good student because she was part of the mentor program where she encouraged and helped younger students to read. Her first name was......Josephine.
Several weeks into the school year and only a few weeks before Halloween, Josie became conspicuously absent and even the boys wondered if she had moved away after not seeing her for a while. We all reasoned how impossible this was since her younger brother, Michael, was still coming to school on a regular basis. Being the 'Innocents' that we were and having respect for authority drilled into us by the Sisters of Providence themselves, we accepted Josie's absence without question.....unconsciously living inside our sheltered 'black & white' world.
 |
| THE SISTERS OF PROVIDENCE |
Halloween came and went, as did Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the brand new year. And still, beautiful Josephine was nowhere to be seen.
I remember the nuns and lay-teachers asking us to please not ask any questions of her little brother, Michael, because he had no answers to supply and we couldn't help but notice his deepening sadness and school days missed as time went by. For the most part, we complied. It was very difficult for all of us to understand.
Eventually, our own lives and activities filled in the gaps created by our lost student and friend as it often happens with young children bubbling within their own agendas. Spring was producing buttery daffodils that gently swayed in the warm breeze and trumpeted their pride of location as they lined the gray stone walls of St. Patrick Church. Life was fresh and new again with the promise of summer vacation just around the corner.
We girls were just rounding off our afternoon recess game of dodgeball when the small stranger, flanked by Sister Mary Rose and Mother Angelica, made her way out on the playground. Her face was rounded, almost to the point of distortion. What little hair she had left on her head reminded me of my baby doll, Lou Lou, who had been smothered with my love for so long her hair sprang up in tufts like the wild clumps of grasses that belie a well groomed lawn.
For the next few minutes, Mother Superior reintroduced this fragile, exotic creature to us as the early afternoon sun played hide-n-seek among the leaves of the large maple trees that skirted the concrete playground. Josie was like Bambi to us girls. Young, fragile, and in need of protection and care as we, initially, judged the situation out of pure instinct alone.
Not much else was offered to any of us in way of an explanation as to exactly what had happened to our friend. We were told that she was suffering from an illness that the doctors were hoping to cure her of and that we were to treat her as if nothing at all had changed......only, it had. Wondering what kind of a cruel joke God had played on Josie, on us, our young hearts and souls would forever be altered by this experience.
The school year played-out and with a white turban covering her head, Josie attended class and participated in most of our playground activities. Bursting forth from deep within, her 'joy of life' was incomparable and infectious. The girls, as well as the boys, fell in love with Josie all over again and nearly ignored her new appearance but always respected her space. In essence, we all adapted well and carried on with living.
With the arrival of summer vacation came a visit from our Michigan grandparents, a family trip to the Ozarks in Southern Missouri, and long, lazy summer walks with our friends down the many paths that meandered through the thick forest surrounding our home. Life was good, natural, and progressive and slipped by ever so quickly.
 |
CATHOLIC ELEMENTARY SCHOOL
AND TYPICAL PLAYGROUND AREA
|
Thinking about seeing Josephine again, I entered fifth grade to find that this would be the first time I was to have a lay-teacher instead of a nun teach my class. That first day back, Mrs. Clark asked us all to walk quietly down to the gymnasium because Mother Superior and Father John had something important to tell us.
We were told how proud they were of all of us and that Josephine's parents and siblings were, as well. God had taken Josie from all of us during the warm months of summer and He welcomed her young soul with opened arms into His Kingdom. We mustn't be sad because it was Josie's wish to be a normal, happy, and accepted person among her friends here on earth for as long as possible and that all of us complied with her wishes.
Even as children, we were able to dismiss the facade of illness and the cruel consequences of its treatment and interact with the beautiful, living being that defined a friend who's final wishes were nothing more than to fit in and be loved. In short, we kept calm and carried on with the process of living....
As children being brought up in a Catholic home, Church, and school, we learned that death was a part of life and should be accepted as such. We understood that by being kind to others on earth would lead us to our ultimate goal of being with God in Heaven. We accepted this concept whenever we thought about Josephine and knew that, collectively, we helped to make her final days as comfortable as she had taught us to be when accepting and dealing with her pain and death. Together we made it through a difficult time.
Wiping the tears from my eyes this past Monday morning, Mr. Carson's words rang loud and clear in my mind. Yes, life is short and death is sure. However, it is how graciously we conduct ourselves within the short time we have here on earth that really matters. And, that is all we really need to know.
Copyright © 2016 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved
