Games

Each Thursday afternoon was a holiday, but this wasn’t like Pauline’s holidays; and I wasn’t in the belvédère with Papa. I had to play, not with Céline, which pleased me very much when I was alone with her, but with my little cousins and the little Maudelondes.⁴⁸ This was a real penance for me because I didn’t know how to play like other children and as a consequence wasn’t a very pleasant companion. I did my best, however, to imitate them but without much success. I was very much bored by it all, especially when we spent the whole afternoon dancing quadrilles. What I really liked, though, was going to the park,⁴⁹ for there I was first in everything, gathering flowers in great profusion and, knowing how to find the prettiest, I excited the envy of my companions.

What pleased me was when by chance I was alone with little Marie and, not having Céline Maudelonde dragging her into ordinary games, she left me free to choose, and I chose a game that was entirely new. Marie and Thérèse became two hermits, having nothing but a poor hut, a little garden where they grew corn and other vegetables. Their life was spent in continual contemplation; in other words, one hermit replaced the other at prayer while she was occupied in the active life. Everything was done with such mutual understanding, silence, and so religiously that it was just perfect. When Aunt came to fetch us to go for our walk, we continued the game even on the street. The two hermits recited the rosary together, using their fingers in order to screen their devotion from the inquisitive public; however, one day the younger hermit forgot herself completely: having received a piece of cake for lunch, she made a big sign of the Cross over it before eating it, causing people to laugh.

Cousin Marie and I were always of the same opinion and our tastes were so much the same that once our union of wills passed all bounds. Returning one evening from the Abbey, I said to Marie: “Lead me, I’m going to close my eyes.” “I want to close mine too,” she replied. No sooner said than done; without arguing, each did her will. We were on a sidewalk and there was nothing to fear from vehicles; having savored the delights of walking without seeing, the two little scamps fell together on some cases placed at the door of a store, or rather they tipped them over. The merchant came out in a rage to lift up his merchandise, while the two blind ones lifted themselves up alone and walked off at great strides, eyes wide open, listening to the just reproaches of Jeanne who was as angry as the merchant! To punish us she decided to separate us, and since that day Marie and Céline went together while I made the trip with Jeanne. This put an end to our great union of wills. And this wasn’t a bad idea since the two older ones, Jeanne and Céline, were never of the same opinion and used to argue all the way home. Peace was then complete.