Follow in the right footsteps

Ida was the last born and the only one to be graced with life. The other five, one after the other, had slipped into the great silence, leaving an even greater silence behind.

It had been painful to say goodbye and fold little hands over a heart that hadn't even been allowed to beat for more than a year.

And Ida? Ida carried in her graceful self all the love, hope, tenderness, aspirations, and prayers that would otherwise have been bestowed upon six. Next week she would finally come home!

It was a balmy evening in May and John and his wife Mary were sitting on the porch.

-"You know who I saw a few days ago, Mary?" John said, "Jimmy!"

Mary's rocking chair swung gently back and forth: "Hmm-m." She murmured.

-"His wife Catherine went to school with our Ida." John continued.

"Yes, I know," Mary replied, "How is Jimmy?"

-"He feels bad!" John said as he curled his lips down.

-"Oh? Bad? How come?" Mary stopped the rocking chair and looked concerned at her husband.

There was a silence, then the words began to flow from John's mouth like a torrent of despair.

-"He said he doesn't feel at home in his own house. Catherine never speaks to him. All he does is eat, put on his coat, and go to work. She never opens her mouth to say something nice ."

-"So are her mother and her aunt. They are very frugal with words." Mary said.

"Poor Jimmy feels very uncomfortable." John continued.

-"I can imagine." Mary nodded.

-"And when he tries to start a conversation with her, she keeps correcting what he says as if he were a rude little child. She always finds fault with his choice of words and language." John added.

Mary resumed swinging in the rocking chair. She stirred a little restlessly:

-"Is she sassy?" Mary demurred.

"No," John replied, "She keeps correcting him. She claims it is for his own good. She says that distinguished language is important. When Jimmy sits at the table with her, he loses his appetite. Jimmy is not a man of big words, so now he just keeps his mouth shut ."

-"That doesn't sound good!" Mary remarked.

-"The last conversation they had together was about worms and insects. Jimmy hasn't been to school long, and he's uncomfortable with that kind of learned topics." John continued to chat.

"Catherine has indeed been in school longer." Mary interrupted her husband.

-"Jimmy said he wished his wife had never gone to school. Maybe that would have made his life much easier."

Mary was plucking at a loose thread at her apron.

"I don't believe our Ida would ever behave like that," she said softly.

-"No of course not." John replied sharply.

"I just hope she'll never be ashamed of us." Mary mused.

-"Of course not." John asserted. His voice trembled a little. John turned his head to his wife, "You're not going to start worrying now, are you?"

-"No of course not." Mary laughed confused, "Our Ida would never do such a thing. She´s a kind soul!"

-"Come on sweetheart, it's time to lock up the house." John said, "When our girl comes home next week we should be well-rested."

The days dragged on, and Mary was befallen with 

a curious restlessness

-"John dear, I went to talk to Catherine's mother." Mary started.

-"Oh." John said.

-"Well, I was curious to know what kind of things Catherine values." Mary continued hesitantly.

-"Why?" her husband asked in surprise.

-Well, "Mary started with forced courage," It would be nice to know in advance..." She didn't finish her sentence.

"I just happened to ask Jimmy the same thing this afternoon," John said excitedly.

-"No, you didn't." Mary gasped.

"Ida has been away from home for four years. For four years she has learned things that we will never understand, and I wanted to know what I could do to please our Ida when she comes home." John defended himself.

-"Naturally." Mary nodded. "Four years already."

"Maybe we can make it a habit to talk politely." 

John said frowning.

-"Catherine's mother said her daughter hates abbreviations." Mary remembered.

-"Okay, so use full words from now on, no more aints and stuff like that." John said.

-"That's a promising idea," Mary agreed, "let's start right away so we're a little bit used to it when Iva comes home."

-"Jimmy also told me he has to change for dinner." John continued.

-"Oh?" Mary looked at her husband a little helplessly.

-"Yes...she says that after a day's toil one should come to the table with a refreshed body and mind." John said thoughtfully, "He must wear black."

-"Ahum... do you think we'll have to wear our fine clothes to eat too?" Mary asked uncertainly.

-"Do not worry." John said, "It won't come to that. And if it does, our Ida will have to take us as we are."

That night, John was fighting with himself not to wake his wife so he could ask her about his best outfit. He began to fear that he no longer had the appropriate collars for his good shirt.

By five o'clock in the afternoon the next day, Mary put on her precious black dress. For countless years it had been sacred for church, weddings, and even funerals. John looked uncomfortable in his Sunday suit and stiff collar. The house had been brushed and scrubbed and was in a state of immaculate order. At a quarter to six, John drove to the station to pick up his daughter. Mary had opened all the doors and windows in the house to welcome her daughter.

-"Mother!" Ida cried happily as she ran into the house.

-"Oh, Ida! I'm so glad to see you." Mary shuddered excitedly.

-"You look so good, Mother!" Ida cried, her face red and eager.

-"Doesn't the house look good, dear?" Mary asked. John was wiping a bit of dust from his coat. He gave a savage tug at his collar and necktie.

Ida sat around the dining table, eagerly launching an interrogation.

That's a good sign, John thought to himself, all she seems to care about is my rheumatism, her mother's health, and how the horses are doing.

"Now tell us a little about yourself." John interrupted his daughter.

-“Oh yes," Mary agreed, "Tell us everything!"

Ida stared at her mother in surprise and laughed happily:

-"The rolls are delicious mother! The coffee tastes like nectar and the strawberries couldn't be more delicious."

-"That is not what I mean." Mary said a little shyly.

-"Oh, the cook doesn't like to be praised?" Ida giggled. "I have a job and a successful income! I am an illustrator. A teacher of mine had always encouraged me, and I followed his advice. I stayed in Chicago for a week with a friend and he helped me to distribute my work to reputable publishers. I have already sold quite a few works and have a very long list of orders.

-"I'm so happy sweetie." Mary said.

John started to gasp.

Mary protested, but Ida insisted on wiping the plates and doing the dishes after dinner. At dusk, the family sat down on the porch.

-"Look at that." Ida sighed, "Isn't that moon glorious? It's so beautiful and peaceful here."

Mary shot a quick glance at her husband, then cleared her throat nervously.

 -"You must know all about the moon right, my dear?" Mary asked. Ida raised her eyebrows:

"Ah, there's a thing or two that is still a mystery to me," she replied with a whimsical smile.

-"Do you know the names of the stars?" Mary insisted.

Ida laughed aloud. She took on an attitude of mock delight: "Carbonous gemstone."

There was a long silence. Ida kept her eyes on the clouds.

-"Can you repeat that one more time?" Mary asked timidly after a while. Ida looked at her mother:

-"What's that?"

-"What you said about the stars." Mary clarified.

-"Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle..."

-"No" her mother protested.

-"Carbonous gemstone." Ida repeated.

-"Oh," said Mary softly, "Thank you."

"I think I'll go to bed." John said yawning.

The next morning, Ida wanted to help her mother with the housework, but Mary wouldn't hear of it.

-"Leave that household to me. You go and sketch. I insist."

With a playful pout, Ida tucked her sketchbook under her arm and left the house, and started to descend along the river. She met her father in the field.

-"Working hard, father?" Ida said fondly.

The old man blushed and put his foot on something crawling from under a rock.

-"Father! Don't!" Ida cried, "You are crushing an animal!"

Her father blushed even more. He lifted his foot and let out a resigned sigh. Ida bent down and gave the centipede a gentle poke with the pencil in her hand.

-"Imagine we had so many legs and feet." Ida laughed.

-"I wouldn´t dare to think about the bills of the shoes." her father sighed. He flung himself back at work and whistled a tune.

While Ida's mother spent her time in the kitchen over a hot stove, Ida spent her days wandering through the woods and fields with a pencil and pepper in her hand. Mary was deaf to her daughter's protests.

-"Household work is not for you child." Mary explained.

The strain was beginning to tell on Mary. The work was no light matter, owing to her anxiety that her daughter´s pleasure should want for nothing.

When the clock struck six in the evening, Mary took her black silk gown with the white lace collar from the closet and put it on with trembling hands. Dead tired and red from baking and roasting. Once dressed, she descended to the dinner table, where her husband would wait in his black coat and stiff collar.

This is torture, John had told Mary, and her task grew more hopeless by the day. She could hardly bring herself to speak anymore.

One day, after about a week, Ida came running into the kitchen - cookies were burning in the oven. She quickly took them out of the oven and flung the doors and windows wide open.

-"Mother!" Ida cried. When there was no answer, she went looking for her and found her in her room in front of the mirror. Mary was crying.

"Mother, what's the matter?" Ida asked concerned. Mary's hands were struggling with the lace on her spotless collar. She covered her face with her hands and sank into a chair by the bed.

-"What's the matter, Mother?" Ida asked again as she hurried to sit next to her mother.

-"Sorry baby," Mary moaned, "I can't. I've tried, but now I have to give up, I can't anymore."

-"What can't you do?" Ida asked, "What do you have to give up?"

Mary shook her head:

-"Your father too," Mary sobbed, "He tries his best, but he can't pull it off anymore."

-"Mother!" Ida cried impatiently, "Answer me! Tried what? Tell me what you are talking about!"

Mary fixed her eyes on her daughter's troubled face and tried to tighten her collar one more time:

-"Don't worry honey." Mary stammered, "It's nothing." she dropped her grey head on Ida's shoulder. Ida comforted her mother with loving pats. Mary told Ida what had been going on, right from the start. When she finished talking, the old woman was a little out of breath. There was a long silence, and she waited anxiously for Ida to speak.

Ida sat with her lips together, staring at her mother. She didn't trust herself to open her lips, for she didn't know whether she was going to laugh or cry. Finally, her smile broke through her lips:

-"Mother!" Ida began, "Did you think that dress and that stiff collar could make you dearer to me? Do you really think I'd love you less if you couldn't come up with big words?

You have spent fifty years taking care of others, twenty of them of me. I've always been the apple of your eye, and now it's my turn: you are the apple of my eye. You and father. All is well mother, just as it is. Except that from next week, you will receive help in the household. A woman will come to help you every day."

Ida rose and fastened her mother's lace collar.

-"Mary!" John shouted from 

downstairs.

-"YES John."

-"Isn't it time for dinner yet?" he asked.

-"Bless my soul." Mary sighed, jumping to her feet.

-"Mary..."

-"Yes dear?"

-"I don't have a clean collar."

-"Let it go for tonight dad!" Ida laughed.

"Well, if you don't mind," John muttered. The two women heard a sigh of relief.

-"Don't worry mother, I wasn't born to follow in the footsteps of a snob like Catherine. I'd rather follow in your footsteps. There is still so much I can learn from you. I follow your steps of virtue! "