Читать книгу Mama - Marijke Lockwood - Страница 10

We were taken back to the orphanage after Mama’s funeral. That night in bed I tried to pray, but my emotions were in too much turmoil. “God, why did you take my Mama? Why can’t you let her come back to us? Mama always said you can perform miracles. You can let her come back. Why couldn’t you have made her better?”

Life went on. I ate. I slept. I went to school and played with my friends. But inside I was confused and grieving. Each morning when I woke up I had a gnawing feeling inside of me, like something was going to happen, but I didn’t know what.

At the orphanage all the other children had lost parents; most of them both parents. But we didn’t discuss our personal backgrounds, and were never encouraged to do so.

One Saturday, a couple of weeks after Mama’s funeral, my best friend, Fietje, from Amsterdam North, came to visit me at the orphanage. Fietje had been my best friend at school since kindergarten. She was as short as I was tall.

“Hello, it is so nice to see you!” I said excitedly.

“I’ve missed you so much, Marijke. I miss your family and your Mama too. When will you come back to Amsterdam North?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, as I had no idea. I hadn’t thought about going home since Mama died. Other children at the orphanage never went home, so I assumed we would just stay there. Now that Mama was gone, who would look after us?

I cried when Fietje left. She was the first person who had said she missed Mama. The nuns had prayed for Mama and the Sunday after she died Mass in the chapel had been dedicated to her. But nobody talked about her.

“You’re not as much fun like you used to be,” Ursula said one day. “Don’t you want to be our friend anymore?”

I shrugged my shoulders and looked from her to Hennie.

“I’m just sad. My Mama died.”

“Well, I don’t know what you’re so sad about. You should be happy that you still have your Papa and all your sisters and brothers. Hennie and I don’t have any family.” With that, the two of them walked away from me.

I thought about that and felt a bit guilty, but I still didn’t feel any better. Nobody understands how I feel, not even my friends.

On the twenty-first of October, Trudy celebrated her eighth birthday. Papa picked us up and took us for an outing to the zoo for a special treat. But it just wasn’t a birthday celebration as I knew it. Mama had always made our birthdays special. Even in the toughest times, she ensured we received a present, and she’d bake a birthday cake. The whole family lined up at breakfast time, oldest to youngest. The first person in line would hold the candle-lit cake. As the birthday person entered the room, we all sang Happy Birthday together.

Each family member had a little gift behind their back. We took turns to kiss the birthday person and wish them a Happy Birthday. Then we’d proudly produce the gift from behind our back. It might only be a small lolly, or a yo-yo, but it was given with love and pride.

My birthday was coming up and I wasn’t looking forward to it for the first time in my life. I didn’t want to turn eleven without Mama.

Even though my brothers and sisters were in the same orphanage, I didn’t see much of them. We were split into age groups, and the boys were separated as much as possible from the girls.

I was the only girl from our family in the ten to twelve age group, with Ann and Trudy the closest to my age, but three years my senior and junior. Ann was in the big girls area; from thirteen to sixteen years old. Trudy and Margaret were in the group from six to nine. The two youngest sisters, Lidy and Ineke, were in the littlies group, aged from two to six.

Although I was surrounded by people, I felt isolated; unable to talk to anyone. It never occurred to me the nuns may be approachable. That had not been my experience with any of the nuns I had dealt with throughout my life. I’d always had a fear of nuns and other religious people, like brothers and priests. I believed they could see into my very soul; they were holy people, and God gave them special powers to see all the wrong deeds and thoughts I had.

On Sunday the second of November, Papa collected us and took us for a walk in a nearby park.

When we returned to the orphanage we were once again ushered into the front room, where we were met by Mother Superior. I didn’t like that room. As far as I was concerned it was a bad news room.

So it was a pleasant surprise when Papa said, “How would you all like to come home in about two weeks?”

“Yes!” The answer came in unison.

“Do you remember Tante (Aunty) Jos, one of Mama’s cousins?”

I vaguely remembered a tall lady, always elegantly dressed, who attended various family functions.

“Aunty Jos has agreed to become our housekeeper. She will come each morning, and go home each night after dinner.”

“When will we go home, Papa?” I asked excitedly. Maybe I can be home for my birthday.

“I’ve organised with Mother Superior for you to come home on Sunday, the sixteenth of November.”

“But Papa, why can’t we go home on Saturday?”

“Why? What difference does one day make, Marijke?” Papa sounded a bit annoyed.

“Papa, it’s my birthday!” I can’t believe you would forget my birthday. Of course I didn’t understand he had far more pressing matters to deal with since Mama’s death. But I wanted to be home for my birthday. I knew it still wouldn’t be the same, but it would be better than here at the orphanage.

“Oh Marijke, I forgot, I’m sorry. Of course, you can all come home on your birthday. I’m sure Aunty Jos will bake a special birthday cake for you.”

“Thank you Papa,” I replied, pleased to have my way.

“Oh, and one other thing, we’re moving house before you come home. We’re moving to Amsterdam South, so Aunty Jos can travel to and from her home easier.”

“No, Papa, we can’t move. Papa, please, I want to go back to my old school, with my old friends.” I don’t believe it! What else is going to change in my life?

“That’s just not possible, Marijke. We’ve already signed the lease on the new apartment and we’re moving this week. By the time you come home, everything will be settled.”

“No, Papa, please don’t make me change schools again, please!” I began to cry. I looked around at my brothers and sisters. They were all quiet and seemed quite happy to move to another school.

Papa looked up at Mother Superior. “Would it be all right if Marijke continues her schooling here?”

She nodded in agreement.

“How would that suit you, Marijke? It’s not so far to travel from Amsterdam South to here.”

I looked at Papa, and then at Mother Superior. Although I really wanted to go back to Amsterdam North, and to the school I had attended since kindergarten, I knew this was not possible.

“Yes, I’d like that. I like this school and I have some friends here.”

“That’s fine by me, Marijke,” Mother Superior said, “but you will have to ensure you get to school on time. OK?”

“Yes Mother, I will. Thank you.”

“Well, that’s settled then. I’ll come and collect you all after you finish your morning school on Marijke’s birthday.” Papa looked relieved.

I felt a little guilty that I had kicked up a fuss, but the thought of moving house, and changing schools was overwhelming me. I would have to make new friends all over again. It was all getting too much; everything seemed to be getting out of control. My life was changing at will and I couldn’t do anything about it.

After Papa left, Mother Superior asked me to stay for a chat, telling the others to return to their rooms.

“I hope you realise that we don’t usually let children from outside the orphanage attend our school. But you are a good student, and I understand that it would be really difficult for you to change schools again. So I’ve made this concession. Please don’t let me down. Keep your grades up, and make sure you help your Papa as much as you can. Promise?”

“Yes Mother, I will.”

As I left the room I felt Mother Superior had understood what was going through my mind, and my wish not to change schools. I suddenly felt a bit more optimistic about my future. I’d still be able to remain friends with Ursula and Hennie and some of the other girls here.