Three Women in a Mirror by Schmitt Éric-Emmanuel

Author:Schmitt, Éric-Emmanuel [Schmitt, Éric-Emmanuel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical, Fiction, Romance, Psychology, General, Contemporary
ISBN: 9781609451226
Google: MTUAn0bdZREC
Amazon: 1609451228
Barnesnoble: 1609451228
Goodreads: 16101221
Publisher: Europa Editions
Published: 2011-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

In the days that followed, he merely observed her.

Although she labored from morning to night, she was radiant with joy. There was a constant smile on her face, tender when she was speaking to others, radiant when she was gazing at the sky, loving when she was around animals.

Once she had checked the sums of the weavers who came to fetch their wool, she would go under the linden tree and stay there, leaning pensively against the trunk. She often went away from the tree and lay down on the ground, face down, her arms spread.

Braindor could not help but go and fetch the Grande Demoiselle, and as he pointed to Anne lying in the grass he asked, “What is she doing?”

“She is prostrating herself in the shape of a cross, in imitation of our Lord Jesus Christ. It is plain to see, brother Braindor, why are you asking me?”

“Anne does not even know what she is doing. She has no religious culture.”

A smile lit up the old woman’s face.

“Blissful ignorance,” she sighed. “This simple soul, without realizing, is attaining the summits of Christian inspiration. Her intuitive soul reigns above words, ideas, or reasoning.”

They smiled at one another, happy to see their secret belief justified through Anne’s innocence.

“The pure are also pure through knowledge.”

On saying this, the Grande Demoiselle was also revealing her incredible erudition, her knowledge of Greek, Latin, and Hebrew, her acquaintance with ancient patristics and the theologians of every era. In that moment, one might have said that her many wrinkles came from the fatigue of having read so many pages.

They fell silent again.

After Braindor had seen the Grande Demoiselle to her rooms, he came back to wait for Anne.

“What were you doing, Anne, lying on the ground?”

She blushed.

He asked again. Assuming that he was scolding her for getting dirty, she showed him her spotless clothing. He shook his head, and said again, “Were you praying?”

“Almost.”

Her enigmatic reply echoed for a long time between then. Braindor wondered how one could ‘almost’ pray.

“Let us go under the linden tree. Tell me about it.”

Without dillydallying, gesturing to her to follow him, he went to the tree and settled in among the protruding roots.

“Well?”

She joined him.

“I lie on the earth to breathe its power. In the beginning I cannot feel anything, but then if I concentrate, I can sense all the movement rising to the surface, growing, swarming, hissing, until at last I feel the earth’s unique strength. And then I fill myself with it. As if I were warming myself in the sun. It helps me to be strong. It restores my smile. Oh, I am not a thief, because each time, I ask the earth for permission.”

Braindor was stunned.

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