Beautiful(54)

“There are twelve of us here,” Sister Anne explained, referring to the nuns, “you can figure out the names later. We have a room all ready for you.” She pointed to the building they had just come from. “That’s our monastery, our dormitory, as we call it. The nurses live with us too, and we have some guest rooms for visitors. We’re so happy you’ve come to visit.” Véronique could hear that Sister Rita was French when she spoke to her. They were the happiest looking women she’d ever met.

“I’ll give you a tour of the hospital after you settle in,” Dick Dennis promised. “You must be exhausted.” But she didn’t look it. She looked fresh and excited to be there.

“I slept on the plane,” she explained. Sister Claire took her bag from her, and they led her to the convent. There were people milling around in the common area between all the buildings. There were trees for shade and flowers everywhere. It looked like paradise to Véronique, and she was thrilled to be there. She felt like she was walking into a girls’ school. There were more nuns in the halls, and a few nurses in white uniforms.

“We’re one big happy family,” Sister Claire explained. “There are ten nurses as well as the twelve nuns. Most of the nurses are British. Sister Rita is French, like you. And there are two Australians, and an American. We do a lot of surgeries when the visiting doctors are here. They rotate in and out for a month or two at a time. Dr. Dennis is here three months of the year. It all rolls pretty smoothly. Are you a nurse?” the young nun asked Véronique.

“No, I’m just interested in what you do here. Dr. Dennis told me about it, and invited me to come and see, so here I am,” she said, feeling like the new girl at school.

“We gave you a single room,” Sister Charity volunteered. “Most of the nurses share but they’re on different shifts so it works pretty well. We just finished our shift, so we come back to the monastery for our evening prayers before dinner.”

“How many children do you have in the hospital?” Véronique asked, as they walked to her room.

“Usually around eighty. We can handle close to a hundred in an emergency. They bring us children from the surrounding areas and villages. Some of the minefields haven’t been fully explored and cleaned up yet. And sometimes we get children who have lived with their injuries for a long time and were never properly treated.”

“That’s a lot of children.” Véronique looked impressed.

“A lot of children need us here,” Sister Anne said. “A lot of injuries, and serious accidents, severed limbs, infections that go untreated, and then require amputations. We keep our doctors busy.” They had reached her room by then. Sister Anne opened the door, and Véronique was surprised to see a big airy room with a fan turning overhead on the ceiling. There was mosquito netting over the bed, which they called “bed nets,” and all the furniture was painted white. There were screens on the windows, and gauzy curtains. She had expected a small dark cell, and instead everything was clean and bright, including the bed, which was freshly made for her and looked very inviting after her long trip, but she was determined to stay awake until bedtime, to get on their regular time.

“There’s a shower down the hall,” Sister Charity explained. “Just put your name down on the schedule. You have priority since you’re a guest.” Sister Claire giggled. “The dining room and the kitchen are at the far end of the building. Breakfast is from six to seven, when the shift changes, lunch is from twelve to one, and dinner is at six. We have local women who do the cooking, and the food is delicious, mostly local dishes. There’s a cottage where the resident doctor lives, behind the hospital. Do you need anything?” she asked with wide eyes and a warm smile.

“No, this all looks wonderful.” She smiled at them. They were a perfect welcoming committee.

“Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?” one of the sisters asked her.

“No, I’m fine.” She was too tired to be hungry, and too excited to want to waste time on a meal.

She washed her face and hands in the sink in the room after they left, brushed her hair, and went to find Dr. Dennis in the hospital. He was waiting for her in his office, and she could see his cottage from the window.

“It’s simple but it all functions very efficiently. We get donations from organizations all around the world,” he told her. “The nuns and the nurses are wonderful. Is your room all right?”

“It’s perfect.” She smiled at him. “Thank you for inviting me. I didn’t know what to expect.”

“I’ll drive you out to the villages tomorrow and show you around. Would you like a tour of the hospital now?”

“I’d love it.” He looked so proud of the facility, and he seemed more at ease here than he did in his fancy New York office. There was an amazing contrast between the two. It was hard to believe he was comfortable in both, and practiced in two such different environments.

“I live to come out here,” he said to her. “It’s a whole different world, and gives meaning to my life. You can really make a difference here, more so than for most of our patients in New York. When I first came here, the civil war was still on, and the casualties were brutal. That’s how the minefields started.” He took her through the wards then. There were sixteen children in each ward, and two nuns and two nurses to care for them. The wards were designated according to how ill the children were. There was a surgical ward for children who had recently had surgery, with fewer children in it. Their families hovered around their beds, or sat on the floor, or sat on their beds and held them.