On December 28th, Christmas had passed at Ashley’s house in Rapid City, South Dakota. Midnight Mass at Our Lady of Sorrows Catholic Church had been very special to Ashley; it was only the third year she had been able to stay awake for it. She had enjoyed the gathering of relatives and had helped her mother almost constantly to prepare and serve the Christmas feast.
Ashley had kept herself as busy as possible ever since returning home a week earlier. The present was a very happy time for Ashley, with loving parents, relatives, and friends around, and plenty of new gifts and holiday cheer.
It was the future she didn’t want to think about. But she knew, deep down inside, that it would arrive soon anyway.
On that day, three days after Christmas, Ashley’s mother got the mail at the post office and signed for the registered letter from Lyceum. Ashley was at Julie’s house at the time, so her mother left the envelope on the kitchen table and went to the grocery store.
When she returned about an hour later, Ashley was sitting at the table crying her eyes out, the crumpled letter lying on the table in front of her.
Mrs. Riddle pulled a chair close and comforted her adopted daughter with hugs and soothing words for a good ten minutes before she could get a clear word out of her. Both of them were soaked with the girl’s tears by the time Ashley was finally able to gasp out, “They don’t want me!”
As Ashley went back to sobbing, her mother uncrumpled the letter so she
could read it.
December 26th
Dear Ashley,
The evaluation teams tells me that you are almost, but not quite, ready for membership at Lyceum.
They have suggested some experiences that they feel would better prepare you for membership. If you would like, and it is okay with your parents, I could act as your mentor while you gain these additional experiences. They are, for the most part, volunteer activities that you can do in your local community after school and on weekends. We have a non-resident member in Rapid City who can make the arrangements.
After completing these experiences, the evaluation team says you could be re-evaluated as early as next July, which is the very next evaluation week we offer.
Please let me know if you would like to do this.
Sincerely,
Sister Heather
“Ashley, Sweetheart, look! It doesn’t say they don’t want you! It says you are almost ready!”
Ashley was still whimpering, but trying to listen to her mother.
“You know, Honey, being almost ready for membership to a place like that is a pretty great honor. I haven’t told you this before, but your dad and I did a lot of looking into that place before we let you apply. Did you know that kings and presidents go there to have meetings?”
“Really?” Ashley said, trying to wipe at her tears.
“I talked to the Archdiocese office in Portland, and they said they use the place for events all the time. And they said the Pope himself goes there as often as he can, sometimes twice a year, and he usually just dresses in plain clothes for a vacation!”
“Jeez. I knew they had hidden retreat centers and hermitage cabins and stuff like that.”
“And did you know that Lyceum people work with the Vatican all the time
when there’s a crisis somewhere in the world that involves churches?”
“I guess I sort of knew that. It’s part of their International Services.”
“So let’s think about this together for a minute, shall we?” She held up the letter so they could both see it. Ashley grabbed a napkin to finish wiping her eyes, and snuggled close to her mother. “It says here that they’re willing to re-evaluate you at the very next opportunity. All you have to do is some volunteer work in the community between now and then.”
They were both silent for a long time.
“The truth is, Honey, that I’d be happy if you’d stay with us for many more years. But your father and I have talked about it a lot, and I think he is right that you wouldn’t be happy here much longer. You are like a bird ready to fly, and your dreams are just too big for a little place like Rapid City.”
Ashley looked at her mother, and then back at the letter, but she didn’t yet feel ready to make any kind of decision.
“Think about it, Sweetheart. We’ll respect your choice either way.”
Ashley took several long walks during the next few days, crunching through the snow with her hands deep in her pockets. On New Year’s Day, Julie asked her over to play computer games. Ashley was most of the way through The Caves of Doom with plenty of vitality left in her character when she suddenly stopped playing, turned to her friend, and told Julie about the decision she was trying to make.
“So, it looks like you have the choice between a half year of volunteer work, and never getting trained as an elite gymnast.”
Ashley looked at her friend. “You sure have a way of making thing clear that weren’t so clear before.”
Julie smiled. “But, of course, you’ll only be able to do it if your Ego attribute isn’t too high!”
They both giggled at Julie’s game-playing allusion.
“I’ve never done any volunteer work... except helping to coach at the gym.”
“I help the third and fourth grade teachers when their computers crash.
And as soon as I’m twelve, I want to start helping at the food bank.”
Ashley thought about it for another day, and then sat down to write a letter.
January 2nd
Dear Sister Heather,
I’d like to do the volunteer work that you talked about, and I hope I’ll be ready to go back to Lyceum in July. Please tell me what I should do.
Sincerely,
Ashley Riddle
When Ashley had left for Lyceum in early December, she had been thinking that she would not need to return to either her school or her gym in Rapid City. After slipping her humble letter into the mailbox, she prepared to return to both, knowing that at least six months separated her from her next opportunity to prove herself. It seemed like such a terribly long time, but she knew that many important things took even longer, like training to become a champion gymnast. As she walked to school on the first school day of the new year, she was very glad that she knew how to pray.
It wasn’t long before she had something to help her take her mind off the waiting.
January 6th
Dear Ashley,
I am very happy to hear that you have the courage it takes to go on working toward a goal even in the face of temporary setbacks!
Your first assignment is to report to Mrs. Peterson at the Rapid City Convalescent Center as soon as possible. She will give you a form for your parents to sign. You will be going there three days a week and doing little things that don’t require any nursing skills, but which can improve the lives of the residents greatly. This assignment goes from now through the end of April.
Of course, I hope you will use other days of the week to keep your gymnastics skills up to date at the local gym.
Write to me every couple of weeks to share your experiences or to ask any question that you have. I will send you pictures and news from Lyceum,
and answer your questions as best I can. Tabitha and Karen were very glad to hear that you would be back in July.
Sincerely,
Sister Heather
Ashley and her mother visited the Rapid City Convalescent Center the day after she received the letter from Sister Heather. It was the largest nursing home in town, with over a hundred beds. Mrs. Peterson was the Social Services Coordinator, and she proudly gave them a complete tour and described all the things Ashley would be doing as a volunteer. Mrs. Riddle signed the necessary forms, and they worked out a schedule that would allow Ashley to do one of her volunteer shifts on the weekend. She wanted to keep at least three days a week free for going to the gym.
Ashley’s first day of volunteer work went very smoothly... for about the first half hour. It was 4:30, and the nursing assistants were preparing the residents for dinner.
“Ashley, this is Mr. Perkins. He’s eating in the dining room,” the late middle-aged nursing assistant named Joyce said.
“Mr. Perkins to the dining room,” Ashley repeated. She had already seen how the staff could quickly and efficiently move a person in a wheelchair from one place to another. She began to move the large man down the long hallway, planning how to get around a minor traffic jam of wheelchairs and walkers about halfway to their destination. Suddenly she felt the wheelchair brake to a crawl and veer to the right. She pushed harder trying to overcome the unknown friction. A moment later a deep, irritated voice came from the wheelchair.
“I ain’t no sack of potatoes, you know! I want to stop and visit Carol. She lives right here!” Mr. Perkins said, gesturing toward the next doorway.
Ashley felt panic. She didn’t dare contradict the angry man, but if she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to do what Joyce had asked her to do.
“Please, Mr. Perkins, I’m supposed to take you to the dining room!”
“No! I’m staying right here to talk to Carol, and if you don’t stop pushing me around, I’ll tell the charge nurse on you!”
Ashley ran down the hall to Mrs. Peterson’s office, only holding back her tears by sheer force of will.
“Ashley,
what’s
wrong?”
The twelve-year-old gasped out the situation between shaking breaths.
“Oh, those aides are always telling volunteers what to do without giving them any clear understanding of how!” Mrs. Peterson rose from her desk and walked with Ashley down the hall.
“Hello, Mr. Perkins! Are you visiting with Carol again?”
“Sure am!” he said in a deep, defiant voice.
“That’s so nice of you! You know, they’re passing out trays right now.
Would it be okay if Ashley took you to the dining room if she promised to bring Carol right after and set her beside you?”
“That would be fine!” he said, eyes sparkling.
“Okay, Mr. Perkins. You can visit with Carol for another minute while Ashley tells Joyce what she’s doing.”
“Okay.”
Mrs. Peterson smiled at Ashley, who had been paying close attention.
Ashley smiled back, showing that she understood the plan.
After Ashley had successfully delivered both Mr. Perkins and Carol to the dining room, the dietary assistant who was passing out trays asked Ashley to feed one of the feeble ladies who was unable to feed herself. Ashley pulled up a chair beside the lady’s wheelchair, and had to breathe deeply for a minute to keep the contents of her own stomach in place while she considered the gray-brown mud that was where the breaded veal cutlet should be, the gray-green goo that was where the buttered peas should be, and the whitish mush that was where the homemade roll should be. She looked at the plastic card on the tray, which read Emma Rawlins, pureed, 1500 cal, 2 gm sodium. She looked at the ancient lady patiently waiting in her wheelchair for her meal, who smiled at Ashley toothlessly.
Ashley swallowed several times, and managed to stabilize her innards. She was beginning to understand. Emma Rawlins had no teeth. Only a spoon came with her tray. She scooped up a spoonful of the main course and offered it to the lady. To Ashley complete surprise, Emma seemed to thoroughly enjoy the pureed veal cutlet. Soon she was able to return to the tray for a
spoonful of what had once been buttered peas.
Emma enjoyed the peas much less, and Ashley had to deal with the green goo bubbling out of Emma’s mouth and running down her chin. Ashley finally got the message and went back to the tray for another spoon of veal.
To her horror, the tray now contained large servings of normal, unpureed foods, and the card read Ben Culpepper, regular, 2500 cal. Ashley heard a snicker coming from a little bald man across the table, and saw the large man beside him hungrily eating Emma’s pureed food.
With a sigh Ashley got up and explained what had happened to the dietary assistant.
“Sam! Are you switching trays again?” the assistant bellowed.
Sam only snickered again.
“Honey, you’ll have to go down to the kitchen and get Emma another tray.
I’ll move Sam.”
Ashley headed down the hall for the kitchen. The cook was cleaning up and obviously wasn’t happy with the request, but was able to scrape her steam table pans and produce another tray. Ashley headed back down the hall.
As Ashley turned into the dining room, Emma smiled in recognition from across the room, and Ashley smiled back at her. She didn’t see the spilled juice. Her legs went out from under her and she landed on the floor hard as the tray went flying. Ashley was very used to her body, in perfectly controlled form, landing on a padded surface. She wasn’t prepared for the pain that shot from her elbows and knees when she hit the tile-covered concrete. She couldn’t stop herself from crying like a baby as one of the aides helped her hobble to the nurses station.
Ashley wasn’t very happy with her first day of volunteer work, and neither was Mrs. Peterson. Ashley was sore from her fall for several days, but she perked up her courage and returned to the nursing home on her next scheduled day.
“I promise to be very careful to look for spilled things, especially when carrying trays,” she said in Mrs. Peterson’s office. “And I’m going to keep an eye on Sam in case he tries to switch trays on me again.”
“I hope so, Ashley. What happened wasn’t your fault, but you could have
avoided it. I sense that you are willing and able to learn quickly, and that’s what’s important. We have some staff members who could use your attitude.”
Ashley smiled weakly, still feeling guilty about what had happened.
“By the way, Ashley... I’m really glad you’re back!”
The next two or three of Ashley’s volunteer shifts at the nursing home went much better, although there were many new situations to learn from every day. She quickly memorized the names of the residents she helped regularly, and learned which ones to keep an eye on for various reasons. She helped feed different people each day, and was soon comfortable with the different diets they needed that ranged from Betty Smith’s clear liquids to Ben Culpepper’s double portions. Mrs. Peterson reminded Ashley that she was under no obligation to get any certain amount of work done. She was free to talk to the residents, read them stories, and take them on walks in the garden.
After two weeks, with some basic knowledge under her belt, Ashley was feeling much better about her volunteer work.
The following Saturday after dinner, Ashley was reading a book to one of the elderly gentlemen as he sat in a chair in the home’s large living room. He had found the Gothic romance in the recreation room, and had brought it to the nurses station requesting that it be read to him. They had given the task to Ashley.
“‘...As soon as he saw her come through the garden gate, his heart began to pound and his blood became hot. He could tell by her eyes that she felt the same for him. She slowly lowered her shawl as he approached...’”
Just at that moment Ashley heard a dripping sound and smelled urine.
She stopped reading and looked. A puddle was quickly forming underneath the old man’s chair.
“Um... uh... Mr. Barton... um... I think you just had an accident...”
“Well then clean me up,” he said in a voice that revealed the routine nature of the occurrence.
Ashley didn’t know what to do. She was already feeling uncomfortable enough reading the cheap romance novel. Now she was definitely in over her head. She looked at the old man, and could tell by the look on his face that he
fully expected her to clean him up, and was wondering why she was taking so long.
Then she remembered something Sister Clairebeth had said at Lyceum. If you don’t know about something, ASK. The memory reminded her that even now, at the Rapid City Convalescent Center, she was on assignment from Lyceum. The thought gave her strength.
“Mr. Barton, I’m going over to the nurses’ station to ask what to do.”
“Just clean me up!”
“I’ll be right back.”
She learned that the paid nurses and nursing assistants took care of that kind of clean-up. Someone was soon found to take Mr. Barton back to his room to be changed, and the chair was taken to the laundry room to be cleaned. Ashley breathed a sigh of relief. She returned to the living room to see what else she could do.
It wasn’t long before a tiny elderly lady had come in and was talking to Ashley in a constant stream of random thoughts and memories. “...and then after the baby was born they went on a long holiday, but Uncle Tom he was stuck with that office job that he hated, so Mary and her son just decided to give in and loan him the money he wanted, and there’s a plate of cookies in the nurses’ station, would you please bring me one?”
Ashley found the plate of cookies the lady was referring to, and as the nurse was out doing medications, she figured there would be no harm in taking one for the tiny lady.
“Thank you, Honey, and you know it’s really very strange how their mother always seemed to know when they had forgotten to do their homework, because she spent lots of time at the beauty parlor, but only after she had cleaned her bathroom very well. She always cleaned her bathroom very well, and I’d sure love it if you’d bring me another cookie from the nurses’ station.”
The nurse was still out. Ashley took another. After all, they had been there all day and few people were eating them.
“That’s a doll. You should have been there at the picnic right after Jimmy got out of the army...”
Ashley continued to listen and fetch cookies for the little lady, and even
one or two for herself. She was starting to be able to piece together some of the lady’s friends and relatives of the past as names began to recur. The lady’s rambling story went on for almost an hour, and Ashley became aware that it was past time for her to go home. The tiny lady hadn’t quite finished her last cookie when her speech became slurred and incoherent and she started gasping for breath. Ashley ran for help.
The white suited nurse was almost finished passing out evening medications when Ashley dashed up. “The lady I was talking to in the living room, something’s wrong with her!”
The nurse dashed back with Ashley, noted the lady’s symptoms, felt her skin and pulse, and saw the remaining piece of cookie. “How many cookies did she eat?”
“Only about six since I’ve been with her...” Ashley said, wondering if she could have done something wrong.
“And she probably got at least as many out of the afternoon volunteers,”
the nurse said, gathering up the slight lady in her arms. “She going into a coma. She’s our most fragile diabetic.”
Ashley felt terrible as the nurse carried the tiny resident back to her room.
She stayed close in case she could do anything to help. “Get Terri in here.
She’s just a couple of doors down.”
Dashing out, Ashley quickly returned with the aide.
“Watch Mrs. Tate, and keep her awake. I’m going for insulin.”
The aide kept talking to the lady and rubbing her arms and legs. The nurse soon returned with the injection.
“You have one-on-one duty for the next three hours, Terri. I’ll tell Ann.”
Ashley stood by silently.
About ten minutes later Ashley’s mother called, wondering where her daughter was. Ashley ran to the phone and explained that something had happened to one of the residents, that it was partly her fault, and she wanted to stay until she knew if the lady was okay. Her mother understood... and shed tears of pride, after setting down the phone, over the courage and commitment her daughter was displaying.
For the next two hours Ashley ran little errands for Terri, and stayed close by at other times. Terri explained that Mrs. Tate would eat sweets whenever
she could, and often talked others into helping her get them. The nurse came in and took vital signs every ten minutes. Ashley didn’t allow herself to think about exactly what she had done wrong. She first needed to know if Mrs. Tate was going to live or die. The minutes ticked by, and Terri kept massaging the little lady and talking to her. It was one of the longest two hours Ashley had ever experienced.
Finally, at 10:45, the nurse announced that Mrs. Tate was out of danger.
Ashley breathed freely for the first time in hours, and wanted to cry, but stopped herself. She was part of the cause of the fragile little lady’s brush with Death, and she knew she had much to think about and learn, and no right to ask others to comfort her at that moment.
“I promise that’ll never happen again,” she said to the nurse as she was putting on her coat. “And... I hope I can still come back.”
“Of course you can, Ashley. I’d certainly rather have you back than a new volunteer who hadn’t learned that lesson yet!”
“I’ve learned it well,” Ashley said.
“I can see that you have. Good night!”
On the walk home, Ashley finally allowed herself to feel the impact of what had happened. A very clear picture was forming in her mind of what it meant to have real responsibilities. She remembered something else Sister Clairebeth had said when talking about Lyceum’s International Services. This is where the awesome responsibilities begin. Ashley had not even joined Lyceum yet, she was just doing a little volunteer work at the local nursing home, and already she was being entrusted with people’s lives — and had almost failed that trust. She very definitely had things to think about.
January 25th
Dear Sister Heather,
I’m learning a lot. I’m learning more than I ever dreamed there was to learn. I’m starting to be able to really help out at dinner time, and I haven’t pushed a wheelchair into the wrong room since last Wednesday. I know what diabetes is now, and I’ve learned to ask questions whenever I’m not sure about something.
The really funny thing is that the longer I’m there, the more I know but
the more I don’t know too. Does that make any sense?
I’ve been going to the gym three times a week, and the coach is letting me do everything he can to stay prepared for elite training. And I’m doing more teaching now of the level 2, 3, and 4 girls.
My grades in school are still good. My math grades have even gone up since I met Julie. She’s teaching me how to use the General Knowledge Processor.
When I get to Lyceum in July, will the evaluation week be just like the last one? I was wondering so I could be as ready for it as possible.
Sincerely,
Ashley