The Hired Girl(74)

But then he softened and asked me if I was worried about a sin I might have committed. I told him I’d become very worldly lately, and how I’d bought a parasol I didn’t really need for ninety-five cents. He turned this over in his mind. At last he said that he hoped those words in the prayer book wouldn’t be a stumbling block to me. He confided to me that sometimes when he prays to God, he seems to feel the mind and heart of God. (I have felt that myself, but I didn’t say so, because it seemed like boasting.) Anyway, he said he was convinced that God was not petty. He (Father Horst, not God) said he didn’t believe God took offense every time a young girl decided to buy something pretty, though it would be nice if I put a little money in the poor box every week. He said God is our Father, and a good father (not like mine) likes to see his children made happy.

He added that it would be different if I’d been uncharitable. God always minds that, because God loves all His children alike, and if you are uncharitable, even in a small way, God feels sorry for the person you are uncharitable to.

So I tried to think about whether I’ve been uncharitable lately. I have harbored uncharitable thoughts about Mrs. Rosenbach and Mrs. Mueller. And then there’s Father, whom I still haven’t forgiven.

But then I cheered up because I remembered that this morning, I was charitable to Malka. She was mending her black skirt and her mouth was all pursed up and sour, because sewing black on black is hard on the eyes. I knew she would be offended if I offered to help her in the ordinary way, so I was cunning. I said coaxingly that I wished she’d show me one more time how to fry fish the way she does. If she would, I’d finish stitching her dress.

She snorted and said learning to fry fish was a matter of trial and error, even if I had the right knack for it, which she didn’t think I had. But she would try to show me. Then she forked over that dress as if she couldn’t get rid of it fast enough.

I wanted to laugh. But now I see that I was charitable to Malka. I didn’t do it to please God; I did it for kindness, which I think must be good. Only now I’m feeling conceited about it, which is probably bad.

But I’m not going to worry too much. Father Horst says that if I’m in any doubt about what to do, I should ask God for mercy and forgiveness, because He loves to grant us mercy and forgiveness. It makes Him happy when we ask for it. So I do ask for it. And I’ve decided I’ll give one-tenth of my salary to the church — thirty cents for the collection, and thirty for the poor box, which is a lot for the poor. When I was poor, I’d have been thrilled with twenty-five.

After I left Father Horst, I walked in Druid Hill Park and enjoyed my rose-colored parasol. I passed the building that’s going to be Mr. Rosenbach’s school, the one he’s planning with his friends. It’s a handsome building, and the children will be able to play in the park at recess, the lucky things. I wished I was a child and could go to that school.

But it’s also nice to be grown up and earn your own money. I bought a bag of peanuts and ate them in the shade. Then I took out a pencil and paper, and Mr. Solomon’s half-finished sonnet, which I had hidden in my bosom. I’ve been thinking about that sonnet all week, ever since I learned Nora Himmelrich was coming to the house.

I’ve never worked on a sonnet before. Sometimes Miss Chandler had us write poetry, but we only had to rhyme every other line. Even with Mr. Solomon having made most of the verses, it took me a long time to get the lines to scan, but when I finished, I was pleased with myself.





Wednesday, August the twenty-third, 1911

I have given the sonnet to Nora! When she came today, she said, “Hello, Janet,” very heartily, which was nice of her — she might have snubbed me in front of the others, but she didn’t. I tried to give her a meaningful glance, but there was no time to slip her the sonnet. I had to wait until after the bridge game broke up. Then I seized my chance. When old Miss Himmelrich was talking to Mrs. R., I drew close to Nora and said in a low voice, “Excuse me, miss, you dropped this. I found it.” And I put the sonnet in her hand, wrapped up small and folded in a handkerchief.

Nora looked startled and my heart pounded because I thought she might say the handkerchief wasn’t hers, which would have given everything away. But I put one finger to my lips — just for a moment. Her eyes widened.

I must say it was very thrilling. I think I have a gift for intrigue.

While I was washing the dishes tonight, I imagined that Nora accepted Mr. Solomon and they asked me to be their bridesmaid. It isn’t likely they will, because I’m only a hired girl. But I had a good time imagining it — first a winter wedding, with a velvet bridesmaid dress, and then a spring one, with organdy and lace.