Chapter 23: School

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Let me know if you can read this chapter. There seems to be a problem with Wattpad and people can't see the chapters after Chapter 10.

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The time had finally come for Angie to go to school. She had dreamed of this day for so long. Her biggest wish was to be like her older sisters. She wanted to sit at a desk, take a pencil between her fingers, and write on a white piece of paper. She had long dreamed of learning things like the others, having lots of friends, and learning how to read and write. Going to school was, for her, a way to show everyone—especially her sisters—that she was intelligent. She wanted everyone to know she was not the silly little girl everyone thought she was. She wanted people to recognize her as the queen she really was.

            The morning of her first day of school, she was overjoyed to go to school with Agnes and Emma. Agnes and Emma were anxious to return to school; the summer vacation had seemed endless and they wanted to see their friends whom they had not seen since last June.

            She shared their good mood, but once in the schoolyard she quickly became intimidated by the enormous number of children. How was it that so many children lived in the village? And how was it that she had never seen any of them before? Why had they never come to the farm? She knew no one and wondered if it was possible for her to remember all of those kids' names. How would she manage to be friends with all of them?

            She felt belittled again when she noticed that the other children were more comfortable than her. She could not get used to all of these strangers. She told myself that she was inferior to the other children once again. She could not be as good as they were.

            In class, the children laughed at her because she gave the wrong answers. They also made fun of the way she dressed because her family was poor and did not have enough money to buy her new clothes.

            "They say that I'm weird because of how I dress. But I come from a poor family, and Dad says he will not spend a penny for my whims. He says he has no money. But yet he could just go to the bank and the bank would give him money. Dad does not understand that because I do not dress like the others, they are mean to me.

            "Mom, at least, tries to understand us and sews together old clothes to make them more fashionable. She must understand because she also lived through this when she was little.

            "The kids are so mean..."

            "Roger keeps kicking me. He thinks he is more important and stronger than I am. I do not know why he does not like me. It's just me; he does not mind the other kids. He just does not like me because he thinks I am weird and because my only friend is mentally challenged—Julie.

            "No one but Julie wants to be my friend. And it's a shame because I would like to play hopscotch like the other girls. Julie is not able to count so she cannot play hopscotch. All we can do is take walks in the schoolyard. And on the rainy days, when we have to stay in class to avoid getting wet, we color pictures in notebooks. Julie loves to color, even if she is not that great at it. She cannot keep her crayon within the lines. It's hard to do many things with her. Even playing ball, it is difficult for her to catch and throw a ball. I tried to teach her, but she just cannot do it."

            Angie writes in her diary.

            Still, she felt rewarded for her good deeds when Julie saw her and greeted her with a loud cry of joy at church on Sunday. "Angie!" screamed the little girl, throwing herself in her arms. Angie felt good by being friends with Julie—she was being nice and doing a good deed unlike the other children who gave her no importance.

            This only happened for one year. The following year Angie was no longer among the youngest in the school. People picked on her less. She even befriended a few other children, although very few. She was never popular.

            It was also better because she liked school. She finally managed to show her intelligence and was often the best in the class. The nuns gave her countless rewards for her good efforts and correct answers. She was even asked to stay home and not participate in final examinations so she would not skew the class average.

            Her main and only motivation was to demonstrate her intelligence. She had never thought about her future until she read an article in a magazine about a woman who practiced veterinary medicine in Africa. She was impressed by the big elephants as well as the interview with the exotic and charismatic vet.

            She strongly identified with the woman because she also had a passion for the animals on the farm. She loved to care for them. At least almost all of the animals. There was the exception of Baby, the mare. Baby had always been violent with her, as if she was jealous of Angie.

            In any case, it was decided: she would study to become a veterinarian.

            She spoke of her dream of becoming a veterinarian to Jeanne, but the latter did not appear to understand her career goal. Being poor, Jeanne thought it best not to feed her delusions. She told Angie that to become a veterinarian, it took many years of study and it was very expensive. The only way she could do it was to start working as soon as she was old enough to start saving money for my studies on her own.

            She then understood that this meant it was very unlikely she could become a veterinarian; it would be nearly impossible.

            Furthermore, as Jeanne said, "You do not need a diploma to change diapers."

            Thus, my fate was laid out in advance: she was going to marry and have children and live a life similar to the life of her mother.

            This demoralized Angie. She felt no desire to marry a man like her father; the idea of ​​being alongside a husband like her father was repugnant.

            As she contemplated a large painting in the school's lobby, she had another enlightenment: she had always admired the lifestyle of the nuns who taught her. Sisters Gabrielle and Marie-Claire lived together. Without a man. They were independent and they seemed happy.

            She told herself the nuns were very lucky to be alone, without a husband or father, without anyone to beat them. Contemplating the large painting, she imagined how peaceful life would be if she was a nun.

            They did not need men to meet their needs. They had no children of their own, but they taught over a hundred of them.

            This must be an equivalent, she thought, and when the children return home at night, I could sit down quietly and play the piano, read the Bible, or paint.

            That's a dream life, so spiritual.

            She realized that if she married young, like her older sisters or other women like my mother, she would never taste this serenity.

            One thing was certain; she did not want a husband like her father. She was never sure if her father really loved her mother or if he was as indifferent to her as he was to his children.

            She decided to become a nun.

            Religion was the exit door to a life without tears or violence. It was a career choice that Jeanne would approve of since everyone had an enormous amount of respect for the nuns. They were wisdom and purity.

            Naturally, it was a life of sacrifice because she would need to give her heart to an abstract divinity, Jesus. It was a platonic marriage where the bride would see her husband only upon her deathbed, but it did at least guarantee a place in paradise.

            Until she was old enough to give herself to God, she saw her dream of becoming a nun as a saint echappatoire, a safe and holy place to hide from her father or a potentially violent husband. It was a peaceful secret that she cherished, a place where she could hide from the blows and family discomfort.

          I now understand what drew my mother in the cult. She wanted to find some of that inner peace.


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