Sylvia Read Online Free PDF Page A

village and I soon learned that to give sparingly of my voice made it more valuable to those who hungered to hear me sing.
    As I grew older it was a lesson I was to employ in other aspects of my life. As a woman I was to learn that the promise of something to come that must by degrees be earned is far more valuable to a man than a hasty, generous and wanton fulfilment. Despite this small sense of independence, I had some doubt that I possessed the courage to refuse the command of the village priest to sing, even though I thought myself a blasphemer should I be made to sing anywhere near the house of God.
    I was to be escorted into the presence of Father Pietrus by Frau Anna and her two companions. The Gossip Queen had very conveniently forgotten the spittle and abuse she’d hurled at me. Now she boasted that she’d been the main presence at the moment Christ’s spiritual light in the form of the Holy Ghost had entered to wrestle with and cast out the evil demon that had taken possession of me.
    Ever since the ‘miracle’ she’d claimed certain privileges at my expense, the major one seeming to be the right to attach her presence to me whenever it was to her advantage. I have no doubt it was she who led the prattling contingent of old wives to the village priest to inform him of the miraculous event that had turned me from a deaf mute into a celestial singer.
    I had been cleaning the pigsty, singing to myself, so that by the time I heard the three village women approaching it was too late to hide. Frau Anna was at the forefront followed by Frogface and Gooseneck, both carrying baskets. She came to a halt beside the pigsty. ‘The priest wishes to see you, Sylvia,’ she announced in a peremptory manner, then including the other women with a sideways nod of her head, added, ‘but we have agreed thou art not in a fit state to see him.’ I immediately thought she meant that as a sinner I was not fit to be in his holy presence. ‘You will wash in the stream and then put on fresh linen,’ she commanded.
    I glanced shamefaced at my ragged gown. ‘Frau Anna, I have only what I am wearing.’
    â€˜I know, child,’ she said impatiently. ‘We have brought a gown for you and shoes and a cap. They are not new but clean and well patched and the shoes are stout enough. Now hurry, we cannot keep the good father waiting.’
    The stream, when I had earlier that morning gone to fetch water, had been covered in a thin layer of late-autumn ice.
    Though it was by now well past noon and the ice would have melted in the pale sunlight I knew it yet to be freezing. ‘We will wash and prepare you,’ Frau Anna announced firmly, then pointed to a basket one of the women carried. ‘We have brought soap and a scrubber and some old linen to dry you.’
    I was told to disrobe beside the stream where they sniffed in disgust at the ragged garment that fell to my feet to leave me standing naked, hugging myself and shivering in their presence. ‘Look, she is still a child,’ Frogface pronounced, pointing at my hairless crotch.
    â€˜Only in appearance,’ Gooseneck said sardonically. This set both of them cackling.
    â€˜Shame on you!’ Frau Anna chided. ‘God has returned the child’s virginity.’ She turned to me. ‘Has your bleeding come yet?’
    â€˜No, Frau Anna,’ I replied.
    â€˜There, you see! She has been restored to a blameless innocent. Oh my God!’ she suddenly exclaimed, visibly trembling, then grabbing me by my right shoulder and spinning me around so the other two might look at my back. ‘See the fish!’ she shouted out excitedly. ‘It is the sign of Jesus the Saviour! The Son of God! The Fisher of Men!’ Then in a tone of awe she suddenly whispered, ‘Oh my God! He has marked her for Himself!’
    I had never seen the small birthmark situated between my shoulder-blades and so had forgotten about it.