Heather Graham by Angel's Touch

Author:Angel's Touch [Touch, Angel's]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

SISTER MARY CLAIRE COULD feel Death.

It was coming.

And she was terrified.

Horrified. All of her life, she had felt her calling. Had known that she was meant to endure mosquito bites, bee stings, cold nights, hot days, and long, endless hours. She had taken her greatest pleasure in helping little children lost in the world, and it hadn’t mattered where. She had enjoyed the time she had taken to raise her own nephew because she had always believed she had time. Time to be with children. Who were young. Who were life. She had always believed…

Even when the cancer had come. Even when she had been in pain. Pain was a part of life. She had believed in her Heavenly Father, and she had known that everything would be all right. She had been cheerful through every moment of her illness.

Until now.

Now there was no pain. Now there was morphine. Father William was at her side. He had given her the last rites, and she had managed to listen, but she had wanted to scream, wanted to shout out that it was all a hoax, that words didn’t matter, that the Church didn’t matter. She was Sister Mary Claire. She was supposed to be so good—a candidate for sainthood, just about. Her endless, never-questioning faith inspired those around her. Her patience, fortitude, and good cheer …

It was a lie.

That was what was so horrible! It was as if her whole life had been a lie, a pretense. She had thought she had believed—when there had been nothing. All of her life she had said that she believed.

But she hadn’t been dying then.

And now …

Now she was.

And she didn’t believe.

It had all been a lie. Her whole life. Like millions of others out there, she had just been paying lip service to a fantasy.

Once, there had been life and magic.

Now, there was just death.

She was in her room at the home. Father William—that little puppy, too young to have learned much about the way of the world!—was at her side. It was a spacious enough room. She lived in a wonderfully generous community, and thought, by the very nature of their lives, retired religious did not need much in the way of material luxuries, her surroundings were pleasant. A beautiful painting of Christ beamed down at her. Christ with blond hair and blue eyes, very Anglo, though even now, Mary Claire was convinced that Christ, when he had come to earth, born to Mary, must have been very dark, and in that darkness, far more beautiful—with deep, soulful eyes—than he had ever been portrayed by gentile artists.

Well, she was about to find out. Find out if he was the Son of Man, God’s gift to the world. Find out if there was a God, if there was a heaven, an afterlife, a power…

Panic seized her. How had she failed to believe? How strange death could be! She lay here now, with no strength in her arms. She could see, but could scarcely move her head.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.