36 
Christmas Plans

As they sat around the fireplace one evening, Sister Hope brought up the subject of the approaching holiday season.

“What will you all be doing for Christmas this year?” she asked.

“My family will all be together for the first time since I came here,” said Sister Regina. “I will be going back to Barcelona for two weeks.”

“That will be wonderful for you!”

“My father is gone, as you know, but I haven’t seen my little baby sister in years. She is a grown woman now.”

“I will be leaving the day after our Christmas party,” said Sister Marjolaine. “Three of my brothers are meeting my sister and me in Lyon. We are all going to surprise our mother with a visit for Christmas. It will be her first Christmas without my father.”

“Does everyone leave for Christmas?” asked Amanda, suddenly wondering if she would be left alone.

“No, dear, only those who have families to celebrate with,” replied Sister Hope. “I will be here, and perhaps two or three of the others. We celebrate Christmas together a week or two early. Then those who are going home leave.”

“My family is traveling to the Mediterranean,” said Sister Galiana. “So I will stay with you at the chalet. Someone has to care for the animals.”

“Well, I am certain I could manage!” Hope laughed. “But I will be happy to have you with me as well.”

For the moment, Amanda said no more. Talk of Christmas filled her with strange feelings that she did not want to think about.

Even in the midst of their discussions of family and Christmas plans, none of the sisters asked Amanda whether she might be thinking of returning to her home for Christmas. Most, including Sister Hope, had already begun to suspect that family strife lay somewhere at the root of her occasional quiet moods and the fact that she was obviously in no hurry to leave the chalet. But the time to approach the matter more directly had not yet come.

“What about you, Sister Clariss?” Hope asked.

“I will go home for a week,” she answered.

“And you, Sister Gretchen?”

“My sister and I will go to Munich, as long as it continues safe. I do not think anyone will mind two single women crossing the German border and then coming back.”

“I would like to go home,” added Sister Anika. “But I fear the war is too close. My mother has written to tell me to stay here.”

“That is unfortunate. This war is a dreadful thing. I pray it doesn’t interfere with the rest of your plans.”

As if reinforcing her cautions and reminding them that the world was indeed at war in spite of how sheltered they happened to be from it, the next day a message arrived from one of the nuns at the Catholic church down in Interlaken. Sister Hope told the others about it at their evening meal.

“It seems there is a young Muslim woman down in the valley,” she said, “cast adrift by the war—a Serbian from Albania whose husband was killed. I don’t know the details of how she ended up here, but Sister Stephanie, from the convent there, said she has no place to go. She spoke with Father Stein, who suggested that we might help. What do the rest of you think?”

“I would be happy to go down and meet her,” said Sister Luane. “I speak several of the dialects of that region—at least enough to get by.”

“Obviously we will take her in, will we not?” said Sister Gretchen.

“Such was my first thought,” Hope replied. “But I thought we should pray about it together. It would be a different situation than we have faced before. In the meantime, perhaps, Sister Luane, you could go down to the valley tomorrow and take the train into Interlaken. If you feel so led after meeting her and talking with Sister Stephanie, and if you think the young woman would benefit from time at the chalet, bring her back with you.”