Heart/Children With the Rickets
children who were used to being undressed, examined, turned round on all sides. And to think that they are now in the best stage of their malady, when they hardly suffer at all any more! But who can say what they suffered during the first stage, while their bodies were undergoing the process of deformation, when with the increase of their infirmity, they saw affection decrease around them, poor children! saw themselves left alone for hour after hour in a corner of the room or the courtyard, badly nourished, and at times scoffed at, or tormented for months by bandages and by useless orthopedic apparatus!
Now, however, thanks to care and good food and gymnastic exercises, many are improving. Their schoolmistress makes them practise gymnastics. It was a pitiful sight to see them, at a certain command, extend all those bandaged legs under the benches, squeezed as they were between splints, knotty and deformed; limbs which should have been covered with kisses! Some could not rise from the bench, but remained there, with their heads resting on their arms, stroking their crutches with their hands; others, on making the thrust with their arms, felt their breath fail them, and fell back on their seats, pale, but smiling to conceal their panting.
Ah, Enrico! you other children do not prize your good health, and it seems to you so small a thing to be well! I thought of the strong and thriving lads, whom their mothers carry about in triumph, proud of their beauty; and I could have clasped all those poor little heads, I could have pressed them to my heart, in despair; I could have said, had I been alone, “I will never stir from here again; I wish to consecrate my life to you, to serve you, to be a mother to you all, to my last day.”
And in the meantime, they sang; sang in peculiar, thin, sweet, sad voices, which penetrated the soul. When their teacher praised them, they looked happy; and as she passed among the benches, they kissed her hands and wrists; for they are very grateful for what is done for them, and very affectionate. These little angels have good minds, and study well, the teacher told me. The teacher is young and gentle, with a face full of kindness, but with a certain expression of sadness, like a reflection of the misfortunes which she caresses and comforts. Dear girl! Among all the human creatures who earn their livelihood by toil, there is not one who earns it more holily than you!
Your Mother.
SACRIFICE
Tuesday, 9th.
My mother is good, and my sister Sylvia is like her, and has a large and noble heart. Yesterday evening I was copying a part of the monthly story, From the Apennines to the Andes,—which the teacher has given out to us all in small portions to copy, because it is so long,—when Sylvia entered on tiptoe, and said to me hastily, and in a low voice:—
“Come to mamma with me. I heard her and papa talking together this morning: some affair has gone wrong with papa, and he was sad; mamma was encouraging him. We are in difficulties—do you understand? We have no more money. Papa said that it would be necessary to make sacrifices in order to recover himself. Now we must make sacrifices, too, must we not? Are you ready to do it? Well, I will