A Memory of Violets by Hazel Gaynor Page B

know what it felt like to be pointed at and whispered about, to be the object of others’ speculation and gossip. She knew how upsetting it was when people crossed the road so they didn’t have to acknowledge you, unsure of what to say or how to act around you. For as long as she could remember, she’d felt like one of life’s misfits. Maybe she had more in common with the girls of Violet House than they would ever realize.
    When the introductions were complete, everyone readied themselves for the trip to chapel. Hats and coats were found, wheelchairs were navigated through the narrow door, crutcheswere matched to their rightful owners, and, finally, they were ready to leave.
    Tilly helped one of the older girls, Alice, into her chair.
    â€œDon’t mind Mr. Herbert,” Alice whispered. “He might be a handsome bugger, but there’s a lot to be said for manners.” Tilly smiled, grateful for the sentiment, although she couldn’t stop thinking about Herbert’s lingering gaze. “And as for the way he treats his brother . . .”
    But Tilly didn’t hear what Alice thought of the way Herbert treated his brother, because Mrs. Pearce arrived at her shoulder, chivying everyone along to make sure they wouldn’t be late.
    As they made the short trip to the chapel at the end of the street, Tilly noticed the easy harmony among the girls, each one compensating for another, lending an arm where there wasn’t one, becoming the eyes for a girl who couldn’t see. It triggered a rush of guilt within her as she thought about Esther.
    â€œI hope you don’t mind my asking, Mrs. Pearce,” Tilly said as they walked, “but how did the girls become crippled? Was it factory accidents?”
    â€œSome, yes. Those missing a limb will most probably have been involved in some manner of factory accident. Most of them suffer from diseases of the spine, bones, and joints—the result of tuberculosis. The blind, or partially sighted, are usually that way because of the scarlet fever. Others had rickets as young children. Of course, there are also tragic accidents. See Bridget over there? Her mother fainted and fell on top of her when she was just a baby. Paralyzed her from the waist down.”
    â€œThat’s terrible.”
    â€œIt certainly is. Most of their stories are. How they manage to laugh and smile as much as they do is a wonder to me. Take Lorraine here, for example.” She lowered her voice, indicating thegirl whose wheelchair she was pushing. “Her father was out of work, so he moved the family to London from Bristol, hoping for a better life. Her sister went into service, and her brothers went to work in the factories. She was walking on unhealing fractured femurs since she was an infant. It was her Sunday School teacher who wrote to Mr. Shaw to ask if he could take her. Five operations on her legs—and here she is. Much improved, but she’ll never walk or run as freely as you or I can.”
    Tilly walked on in silence, thinking about how difficult the girls’ lives had been and how remarkable it was to see them all chatting and smiling, simply getting on with the business of living. She thought about Esther. She couldn’t remember when she had last seen her smile.
    â€œI know there are a lot of names to remember,” Mrs. Pearce continued. “You might find it helpful to remember the girls by their appearance.”
    â€œOh, yes. I started to do that already.”
    â€œGood. Take note of who wears spectacles perhaps, or the color of their hair, or their eyes, or the shapes of their faces. Physical features can help you remember who’s who. It helped me anyway. Just a thought.”
    Tilly flushed scarlet with shame. She’d already labeled the girls to help her remember them, but not according to their appearance, only according to their afflictions. She said nothing to Mrs. Pearce and vowed to say a prayer for