Sinag

Chapter Four

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Esperanza

Magical.

It is how I can explain the unexpected and sudden blooming of hope in my heart, after everything that happened these past few days.

How Padre Enrique magically came.

How he magically appeared and helped me.

How Padre Enrique magically made hope grow in my heart.

Everything... it just all feels so magical. So... So unreal.

But then, reality hits me...

Does magic really exist?

"Wow. I didn't know that you're good at painting, Esperanza."

"Gracias, Padre." I smiled, and watched him amusingly stare at my artworks.

We are currently inside Mary and I's room, sitting on the floor, while my artworks are all scattered on the floor.

Padre and I were just talking about books earlier, like how I started loving reading books, when suddenly, we're already talking about art.

Back then, during my first week of cleaning the Mother Superior's office, the books inside piqued my interest. So I would sneakingly read some, while I clean.

Until one day, I found a book about an artist, how she expresses her feelings and emotions through this thing called art, particularly painting.

I got so intrigued.

And that's when and where I learned about art. About painting.

I improvised the materials I used to paint—from the canvas to the paints itself. I used old sacks and old fabrics for my canvas. Oil, water, charcoal, and other natural resources for the paint.

Then I started painting, as my way of expressing the feelings and emotions that I cannot express, especially in a place like this.

Painting has become a safe place for me, ever since.

"You learned to paint yourself?"

I nodded my head, "Sí, Padre. It took me years to master painting."

"Wow." he muttered. "For how many years have you been painting, to be exact, for you to be this... good."

I started counting in my head, before answering him, "I was around 7 years old when I started painting."

"And you are 19 now, am I right?"

"Sí, Padre."

"Wow... 12 years. No wonder why you are this good at painting. And for someone who doesn't have access to art materials, you did a very-very wonderful job." he then looked at me, "You never fail to amuse me, Esperanza. You are, indeed, a very talented girl."

"Gracias, Padre Enrique." I, with full sincerity, thanked him.

"But why are you hiding all of these artworks of yours under the bed?" he asked.

All of my artworks were hidden under Mary's and my bed, not because I want to, but because I have to.

Madre Jimena forbids children to do things that they do not and never asked us to do.

Back then, our classes will start at exactly 8 am, and will end at exactly 8 pm. And once we turn 10 years of age, we won't be attending any classes anymore, for we will be starting working on the things that they have taught us during our classes.