Chapter 8 The Waif in the Snow

  Outside the convent an unkempt little girl sat alone in the snow.

  She explored this foreign snow with her little hand.  It moved under her cold fingers.

  She threw some of it up in the air.  Delighted, she flailed around in the snow.

  She laughed and laughed.  She scooped some up in her little hands.

   She ate the snow.  Her empty belly was grateful.

  The little girl heard something.  She raised her head to listen.

  Father Patrick had told Mother Teresa that a motherless girl from a foreign land would be sent to the convent.  Her name, he said, is Shannon.

  It was the middle of the night when Mother Teresa had heard a still small voice.  It hadn't made sense to her, but she had followed that voice.

  It was good she had.

  Shannon later told her she remembered a sense of peace when she first saw Mother Teresa.

  Mother Teresa found Shannon waist deep in snow.

  She gathered the little girl in her arms and hurried inside.  Mother Teresa set Shannon down upon the floor.  She turned from the girl and prayed in a very uncharacteristic way.

  "Why God?" she sobbed.  "Left in the snow before the convent?  To die?  Is this how you watch your flock?"

  The memory of that still voice came to mind.  She had wondered if it had been God.  Rescuing Shannon from deep snow in the middle of the night confirmed it.  She never would have gone out there without that voice.

  She heard a little whimper behind her.

  Teresa picked Shannon up awkwardly.  She had no experience with children.

  Shannon grinned at her.

  She may be small, but she was still heavy.  Teresa moved Shannon to her hip.

  Shannon still smiled.

  The waif whimpered.

  Then she buried her face in the nun's shoulder.

  Mother Teresa snuggled Shannon, pleased to know this kind of love.

  Mother Teresa lay Shannon in a cradle.

  It was questionable if Shannon would make it through the night.

  In the morning she still breathed.

  Shannon grew stronger under the nun's care.

  Teresa found a little cloth to place over Shannon's head.  It seemed more appropriate in the nun's eyes.

  Teresa had done the best she could.  She'd saved the girl from freezing in the snow and burning her fingers on birthday candles.

  Shannon had been a happy burden to the nun in her early years.

  It seemed so long ago now.

  "Mother?"

  Mother Teresa was glad she had excuse to teach this child to call her mother.

  "Yes child?"

  "Is it bad that we dance?  Should we not be working or praying?"

  "No child, it is not bad.  We are dancing unto the Lord!"

  She danced the young girl about until she laughed.

  'Thank you Lord, for this little child and her laughter.'  Mother Teresa said the silent prayer with all her heart.