Authors: June Ahern
“
So this is San Francisco,” Cathy whispered in awe at the view. She had heard that San Francisco was one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Never had she dreamed that one day she would make it her home. Above the rooftops of the tall buildings were two rolling hills alongside each other. Just peeking over the top of them came a low fog moving towards her at a snail’s pace.
“
They’re called Twin Peaks,” said Sandy, interrupting Cathy’s visual meditation. He came up behind Cathy and June and pointed to the two hills. “My house is beyond them, over by the ocean. It’s about three or so miles from here,” he explained. “It’s wonderful to be able to walk down to the beach. You know we Scots need to be by the sea. But funny thing is, I still think of Scotland as home. You know what I mean?”
June glanced at Sandy and saw a faraway look in his eyes. Then she tho
ught she heard her mother say, “Will I still think of Scotland as home in years to come?”, but when she looked up, her mother’s lips were closed in a small sad smile.
Jimmy came in to join them. They stood silently
watching the fog continue its slow roll down the peaks, spreading across rooftops like a plush carpet. Soon it would cover the entire Eureka Valley, the area the MacDonalds would now call home.
* * * * *
MAKING THE HOME SACRED
THE MEN HUFFED and
puffed as they maneuvered a large, deep green horsehair couch up the stairs to the flat. Cathy waited at the top listening to Jimmy wonder aloud how much she might have spent on the heavy furniture. Between grunts and groans, Sandy remarked, “Jesus, Jimmy, this is the heaviest couch I’ve ever moved.”
Cathy had gotten right to business exploring the Salvation Army, St. Vincent de Paul
, Goodwill and every other thrift furniture store she could find. She made her selections after examining and debating over each piece. She chose durable furniture that was in decent shape and within her budget. By the end of each day, she and the girls would come back to the flat exhausted but excited about their finds. They carried all they could and left the rest for a later pick-up.
The girls enjoyed unpacking the big trunk shipped from Scotland. In it was kitchenware, photos
, and knickknacks. There were shouts of delight as the newspaper and cloth wrappings were removed, revealing the treasures underneath. The girls went from room to room, discussing the location best suited for each item.
By Saturday night the flat acquired a lived-in look and the
hollow echo reverberation off the hardwood floors lessened. The next day the family attended their first Mass at their new parish church. Later on Sunday they enjoyed an early dinner, a savory steak pie with gravy and buttery mashed potatoes. Cathy’s most praise-worthy dish showed that they had a reason to celebrate.
After dinner, the girls
with full bellies and happy attitudes, prepared for their first day of school. The older sisters laid out their uniforms and supplies while June, too young for school, was also busy. She had told her sisters they should make a special place for remembering Helen. She found an empty cardboard box and transformed it into a pretty table by covering it with one of Cathy’s large colorful scarves. She then arranged small stones that she found in the flat’s backyard. She placed them on the box, carefully moving them until they were aligned in a perfect circle. She wished the stones were more like the huge ones in her dream, where she sat in the center of a circle made up of large rocks.
The girls petitioned Cathy for a photo of Helen to place on the table June created. The family albums were presented to their mother.
Cathy sat in the kitchen trying to decide which photo to give the girls. Each photo was too dear to part with, but after all, it was for a good purpose. She gently touched one of Helen at two-year- old, happily sitting on a fat Shetland pony at Ayr. “That was a happy day,” Cathy recalled aloud. Every summer, Granda and Granny B would take the family to the seashore vacation town of Ayr in Scotland for a week. She took the photo from the album and gave it to June.
“
Oh, thank you, Mammy. It’s beautiful,” June said as she reverently held the picture in her open palms. “Helen will be happy she’s in our room. You can come visit her in there, too.”
June took the photo and tenderly placed it within the stone circle. When the table was ready, she joyfully announced,
“Here’s Helen.”
Annie came forward with a small statue of Our Lady and placed it next to the photo. It had been a gift to her from Granny B.
Maggie put one of her drawings next to the stone circle. “This is Baby Kit.” The drawing was of a baby with saucer-shaped blue eyes, two pink dots for cheeks and yellow hair with a red bow in it. “That’s how she’d look if she didn’t die,” Maggie said. The girls agreed with a nod.
It was almost time to share their creation with their parents. Mary said,
“Wait!” as she ran out of the room for a moment. She came back with small pink flowers she had plucked that day from the garden downstairs. The flowers completed the altar.
“
Maggie, where’s the other picture?” June asked.
“
Here!” Maggie said, holding up a large piece of paper. On it was a picture of a beautiful angel dressed in a long, flowing pale-green robe with wings extending to the width of the paper. The angel floated in a soft blue sky over a field of bright yellow flowers. A halo in a darker shade of yellow encircled her fiery red hair and dark blue eyes that stared out.
Cathy playfully snuck up behind the girls who were
“oohing” over the drawing. “Oh Maggie! You’re so very talented,” she exclaimed.
Jimmy walked by the bedroom, holding a hammer, nails
, and a large framed picture of Our Lady, the Blessed Virgin. He had heard his wife’s voice coming from the girls’ bedroom “Where’d you want this hung?” he asked Cathy.
“
Come and see this,” she said, holding up the drawing.
“
That’s unbelievable!” he said, pleased with what he saw.
“
Maggie drawed it for me. I told her how my angel looks,” June was also proud of her sister’s talents. She pointed out the picture of Baby Kit, saying that they were still all together.
“
They’re lovely,” Jimmy said kindly.
Maggie glowed from the attention. She loved drawing and coloring, almost as much as dancing and singing.
“This is a good place for you girls to say your night prayers at, eh?” Jimmy said.
“
But the angel one’s too big to put on our altar,” said Mary, pointing to the small box.
Jimmy took the drawing and, with a quick tap to a nail, secured it on the wall above the small table.
“It’s like she’s watching over Helen and Baby Kit,” Cathy said quietly.
Standing back, Jimmy looked at the table and said suddenly,
“I know what we need.” He left the bedroom and came back with a dark wood frame that had held a black-and-white photo of his stern looking parents. He easily slid the photo of Helen into the frame. It was perfect. He also brought in a tapered white candle in one of the bronze candlesticks that had belonged to his mother. Lastly, he handed them a crucifix.
June looked at the cross with Jesus
hanging on it. She was sad to see Jesus being hurt and didn’t want it in her room.
“
Daddy, this is for girls in here and Jesus is a boy,” she said sincerely.
Cathy hoped Jimmy wouldn
’t get angry with June for rejecting the cross. Surprisingly, he shrugged his shoulders and said, “Aye, alright.”
He lit the candle and gave it to June. With both hands, she ceremoniously placed it behind the circle of stones and under her angel drawing. It was getting late and the room had grown dark during the creation of the altar. The family sat quietly in the small, sacred space illuminated by candlelight.
* * * * *
HOLY SAVIOR SCHOOL
THE MACDONALDS ARRIVED in San Francisco with much promise of a new beginning and a note from their parish priest that secured the three older girls an immediate acceptance into a Catholic school. The family’s reputation was firmly established by the first day at Holy Savior, the neighborhood parochial school.
The March winds had died down and the day was warming up. The heavy, woolen sweater itched Maggie
’s arms as she, along with her mother and sisters, walked up Diamond Street toward the first day at school. Annie had helped her mother iron the school uniforms to perfection. She was proud Maggie, Mary, and she looked clean and tidy in their white blouses and pleated navy-blue skirts. But Cathy wasn’t as satisfied. Even though she had stayed up late sewing the night before, the hem on Mary’s skirt was hanging on one side. She searched her handbag for a safety pin, called Mary to her side and knelt down to pin up the skirt. It didn’t help that her daughter was bouncing from one foot to the other while humming a little ditty that Granda B had taught her.
The days will come and the days will pass
when Orangemen will go to Mass.
And the Fenian boys will kick their ass
right up and down the chapel path.
Cathy tried to stifle a laugh, but it burst forth anyway when she looked at Mary
’s twinkling dark eyes and joyous face. Impulsively, she gave her daughter a quick bear hug and said, as seriously as she could, “In America they don’t fight over religion. Let’s not sing that. Okay?” She stood back up, “Let’s go.” Cathy hoped her seven-year-old would do better in this school. The Scottish schools hadn’t been easy for Mary, with her rambunctious ways and slowness to grasp her letters and numbers.
On the walk to school, Maggie held her head high and sashayed down the street. Of all her children, Cathy knew Maggie would do well
, no matter what school she attended. She had always been a popular and good student.
Maggie wondered aloud to her sisters about which boy
’s initials would be the first written on her new school PeeChee folder. When Mary reminded her that Daddy told her to stop this boy crazy thing, Maggie boasted that a lot of boys were crazy for her and that maybe she’d invite a special one to her upcoming eighth birthday party, just two weeks away.
Cathy wanted them to enter the schoolyard together as a family, but Annie had walked ahead and was alr
eady at the gate. At nine-years-old, Annie was independent. She did what she decided was best, often without consulting her mother. She held back telling Annie that she was too bossy, like her Granny.
She tugged at June
’s hand to rush her along to where Annie and Maggie stood waiting for Mary. No longer skipping, Mary trudged up to them.
“
I don’t want to go to this school. Please can we go back to see Granda?” Mary asked in a wavering voice.
Taking her frightened daughter
’s hand, Cathy told her gently, “We’re too far from him now, pet. You’ll make new friends here.”
The bell sounded.
“Mammy, you and June go now. We’re not babies,” Annie said in a matter-of-fact tone as she pulled Mary into the yard. Cathy started to protest, then let them go.
Students began streaming around Cathy and June, bumping into them as they hurried inside the yard. Two girls stopped to look at the little girl. One touched June
’s ringlets, pointing them out to a girl with rusty orange hair and pale colorless skin dotted with blotchy red brown freckles.
“
Dee-Dee, look how cute she is!” the Dee-Dee’s friend said.
Dee-Dee smiled down at June. She then looked back up at Cathy and said,
“I wish my hair was more like hers. I hate mine!”
Cathy didn
’t see anything wrong with the orange frizzed cap on top of the girl’s head. She’d seen many variations of red hair in Scotland. Of course, her daughter’s titian-red had always attracted compliments.
June felt a special kinship with Dee-Dee. She touched her skirt and said,
“Your Granda loves your hair.”
Dee-Dee gasped. Her face drained and her freckles stood out bolder on her sallow skin.
“Did she know your grandfather?” the other girl asked Dee-Dee.
“
How could she? He’s been dead for three years,” Dee-Dee said with annoyance and fled into the yard.
Hearing her daughter
’s comment, Cathy told June, “See, you hurt that girl’s feelings. You’re not being a nice girl.”
June began to say something about the girl
’s grandfather, but her mother shushed her. Frustrated by her mother’s reaction, June leaned further into the chain link fence and watched the children entering the schoolyard.
Cathy waited by the fence, peering into the yard to see how her other daughters were faring. She saw the Mother Superior, the principal of the school, a tall, thin nun that she had met a few days before, directing her girls by pointing them toward two assembling lines, one for girls and one for boys.
Annie stoically walked to the back of the girls’ line clutching her new blue binder against her chest. Cathy wished she’d smile so she wouldn’t look so serious.