Cathy of the green prairie

Family time

The ride back was one filled with discussion of the food for the picnic and what ribbons to add to her hair. They arrived at the smell of warm vegetable soup and roasted chicken being made. And the clattering of plates and cutlery being set on the table.

"Ah," Cathy's Mama sighed happily. "Your father should arrive in a short time." She hung her cloak on the hanger by the entrance and turned to Cathy. "Why don't we go and get you dressed up." Cathy's smile must've shone brighter than the sun. At least she felt like it did because it burned the inside of her cheeks, but she couldn't stop. She nodded excitedly and followed her Mama to her bedroom. Oh, how she loved it! 

They placed the bags and boxes on the bed and began unpacking them. Some of the dresses went into her wardrobe, filling it with lace and bows and so much color. She remembered how many times she had dreamt of having that many dresses. She would pray that one day she'd be able to get one dress in every color there was. It had come true. Cathy thanked the Lord silently and continued to hand her Mama the dresses. Finally, they settled on a nice blue dress with ruffles and lace at the hems. She dressed in bright new white tights and brown leather boots to go along. When she was finally done, she couldn't even recognize herself. Her black hair twisted in long ringlets framing her face and falling her new dress. She looked like she had come out of a dream. For the first time in her life, she felt beautiful, truly beautiful. Like a princess in one of the many stories, she would tell Anne in the Asylum. Oh if she could see her now!

"Don't you look lovely?" Mama asked her, rubbing her shoulders softly. She went back to her bed and began folding her old clothes. "Do you wish to keep anything?" She continued, looking through her ragged clothes.

"What's there to keep?" Cathy replied, standing from her vanity and walking towards her Mama. She straightened as Cathy got closer to her.

"Well, I thought maybe..." She took a deep breath. "Maybe, your parents left you something?" Cathy was frozen down on her feet, a little distance away from her Mama. Her lips had gone dry and she couldn't find the words to explain. Still, she arranged herself, gathering her hands in front of her and straightening.

"You're my first, real, parents." She begun. The bed dipped a little as she took a seat on it. "These clothes were given to me at the orphanage. I was left with nothing, not a blanket, or a blouse. Not even a note was left behind by them.

I wasn't supposed to know, Sister Barbara thought it was a tragedy what happened to me and it would be best if I knew as little as I could. But one day, Sister Elisabeth caved in, she told me she couldn't bear the thought of hiding such a secret and that she had to tell me. She believed my parents had to be known for what they did, not remembered as martyrs. That's how I came to know the truth.

It was a chilly night in January. The snow was thick on the ground and the wind was vicious. A constant knock on their doors woke them during the middle of the night, followed by spontaneous cries. When sister Barbara opened the door she went as pale as milk. She picked me in her arms and brought me inside. I had been left inside of a laundry basket, with a few rags that did little to cover me. The sisters gave me a warm bath to regulate my temperature and called a doctor as fast as they could. I was sick for a few months, and none of them knew if I would make it, but they prayed, and I lived. Regarding my parents, I don't know much about them, just that they were important people and needed a male heir or something like that." There was a long pause. Mary took her daughter's hands in hers, her eyes are watery. "They didn't want me," Cathy concluded, her gaze was pained, but her eyes remained intact. "But I learned to forgive them. Now I have a family," She looked at her Mama. "and I have never felt happier, or more loved than I do with you." Mary's eyes let a few tears roll down her rosy cheeks.

"And we love you, Cathy. You don't know how much happiness you have brought us." They shared a long-needed embrace that made Cathy realize that all of this was real. This was her home and they were her parents. A little sob escaped her lips. "Darling? Are you okay?" Mary asked her, raising her head carefully with her hand.

"I just, I've never felt like this before." She breathed a little. "I have no words to describe it." She smiled. 

"I'm happy we could talk this through. Do you feel better now?" Cathy nodded, still smiling. "Good, Max, and I will always be here for everything you need, you can tell us anything that troubles you." She reminded her.

There was a gentle knock at Cathy's bedroom door. Both girls turned to see Max emerging through the frame, hiding one of his hands behind his back.

"I hope I'm not interrupting your girl talk?" He asked hopefully.

"Not at all, darling." Mary stood with Cathy from the bed, letting all the ruffles and bows fall perfectly.

"Look at you," Max said smiling. "Our little princess," Cathy jumped blissfully to hug her father, her arms hanging around his neck. Max let out a surprised huff and returned the hug firmly, burying his head on her shoulder. Their little miracle. Once they're enfold was done, and Cathy had both feet on the ground, Max lowered a little and whispered to her. "You know what all princesses have?" Cathy shook her head, grinning. "They have a doll that looks just like them." He showed her his concealed arm, holding a large parcel, tied with ribbon. Cathy's face brightened with delight as she jumped on the bed to open her gift. Mary stared lovingly into her husband's eyes, resting her head on his chest. 

The doll had long raven hair, styled in precious ringlets, a freckled face with pink cheeks, and a beautiful green gown. 

After dinner was over, and Cathy was nicely tucked into bed, probably dreaming of the picnic they would have tomorrow, Mary and Max went to their room. They stayed up dreaming and talking of all the things they would do together, of all the things they would teach their daughter, and above all the love they would embrace her in.