It’s the last day of March and the cold is still biting as Matron Peters closed the door of her house behind her. Tired and exhausted from a hard day at the hospital, she fell into the armchair immediately. She was not young anymore. Now close to forty-five years, thirteen of which she spent working at St Mary’s Hospital in the London suburb of Wimbledon.
She was so exhausted that she did not even reach for the local evening paper that lay spread out on the coffee table in front of her. Matron Peters raised her heavy eyes but before she had time to read the headlines, they dropped again. With apparent effort she lifted them once more and, as her eyes followed the words in the heavy type, a faint gleam of recollection spread over her. Thirteen years ago ……
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She recalled clearly that day. She was barely out of her teens, shortly after she had started as a substitute nurse at the emergency ward of the local hospital. It was evening. She had just come in for her night shift. There was a commotion in the hall. The ambulance had brought a seven-year old boy who had serious head and limb injuries following a fall from the window of his home.
He was rushed to the emergency section and given immediate attention. After a thorough examination of the boy’s injuries, Dr Williams grimaced. He turned to Nurse Peters by his side. “It’s not a simple concussion. His spine is injured. The fall had impaired his brain …… I’m afraid there is little we can do! But keep vigil over him, just in case he becomes conscious.”
The boy’s name was Walter Adams and he was still in his Chelsea football strip. Nurse Peters unwound the soiled bandages off the little boy’s head. He was obviously in pain. A tear escaped her as she caught a glimpse of his limpid blue eyes that, for a moment, lighted his features.
She put an ice-bag on his head and hot water around his limbs. Then she sat down beside his bed and every now and then bent over him looking for any sign of consciousness.
After a while, Nurse Peters heard steps and stood up. Dr. Williams was calling again. He bent over the little patient, took his pulse in one hand and pressed the stethoscope on his chest with the other.
Nurse Peters wished that she could read his mind. She felt an empathy with the boy and prayed that his position would improve. Impatiently she asked. “How is he doctor? Is there any hope?”
Dr. Williams shook his head and moved away from the bed. “I don’t think that he’ll survive till dawn!” She felt so sorry for little Walter. He’s such a fine boy. What a pity.
As the doctor went to see to other patients, she stayed with Walter through the night, praying that he would survive his ordeal. It was so unfair for one to die so young. She kept looking at him for any sign of consciousness, a sign however small, that he was coming back.
Then, while her eyes were resting on his face, she saw his eyelids flicker, just a little but they did move. She jumped from her chair beside his bed and called Dr. Williams on the buzzer. “He’s gaining consciousness doctor, I just saw his eyelids flicker, please come quickly and see.”
He was in Walter’s room in seconds. He looked at the patient but saw nothing. He felt his pulse and stared at him again for a few minutes. There was no movement whatsoever. He turned to Nurse Peters and in a vexed tone muttered. “You’re imagining things nurse. He’ll not make it, I’m afraid. Even if he does, he would go through life as an idiot. He would be better off dead, in my opinion.” He patted her on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, very sorry”, he said. “But we cannot do anything for the poor boy!”
As Dr Williams left the room, she was again alone with Walter. There was nothing for her to do, except wait and pray. The night was long. She was thinking. ‘Will he live or will he die?’ Suddenly she felt cold all over and glanced around the room.
The rain-drops were tricking on the window panes. She rose from her chair, strode towards the window and brought down the blinds. The soft pattering of the rain could still be heard but the room now felt more secure. At that moment her imagination ran loose.
‘An idiot! He would depend for his living on charity! He would be teased by other children, scorned by society or, worse still, confined to an asylum – living in perpetual hell!’
She looked at Walter. She could not accept what the doctor had said – that if he survives, he would be better off dead. She wished him so much to live and to lead a normal life like any other child. She moved slowly towards the window, lifted the blind, gazed at the street below, dawn was breaking, soon another nurse would come to relieve her.
The soft patting of the rain had ceased. She went back to stay by Walter’s bed and looked at him with pity in her eyes. Then, all of a sudden, it happened! She saw his body quiver and a pair of heavenly blue eyes looked, for a moment, into hers. Was she seeing right? Has he gained consciousness at last? She panicked, buzzed Dr. Williams again and shouted for assistance.
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The sharp ringing tones of the telephone brought Matron Peters from the past back to the immediate present. She had been reliving an episode that happened during her first days at St. Mary’s Hospital.
As she lifted the receiver to her ear, the large black headlines of the newspaper spread in front of her, caught her eyes.
Adams scores winning goal for Chelsea
In FA Cup Final at Wembley
A wide smile spread across her face. It was nearly thirteen years since little Walter Adams, in a Chelsea football strip, had been given up for dead, except that she did not give up. He had come a long way, becoming a football hero for his boyhood football team.
Minn 
minn Charles B. Spiteri
Waħda mill-anzjani qalet li kienu xebgħu sal-ponta ta’ mneħirhom, li kull sena jaħdmu x-xalpi u għalhekk qatgħuha li jagħmlu xi ħaġa differenti u fuq skala kbira.
Għalhekk, in-nisa ppakkjawh f’taqsimiet u bagħtuhulhom bil-posta. Għax, kif ngħidu bil-Malti: min hu mejjet fis-sakra…. u min hu mejjet għal qatra!
Għaddejt minn quddiem il-Knisja tal-Maddalena kemm il-darba mingħajr qatt ma bsart xi storja kien hemm warajha. Madanakollu, minn dejjem naffarni l-ħsieb li din il-knisja antika kienet għamlet żmien tiġi utilizzata bħala post fejn jinħadmu l-karrijiet tal-karnival. Iżda kien biss ftit tal-jiem ilu, waqt li kont qed inħuf għal xi erba’ kotba interessanti fil-Fiera tal-Ktieb, meta finalment ġejt wiċċ imb wiċċ mar-realtà tad-destin ta’ din il-binja. Kien it-titlu tal-ktieb Magdalene Nuns and Penitent Prostitutes – Valletta li għall-ewwel sammarni fil-post u sfidani nqalleb il-paġni ħalli nara dwar xiex kien jitratta. Naturalment ma stajtx nitlef l-opportunità li nkellem lill-awtriċi tiegħu, Christine Muscat, u minn hemmhekk infetħet dinja sħiħa ta’ dokumenti antiki u stejjer mistura, intriċċi u misteri, voti tas-sorijiet tal-klawsura u ittra ta’ mħabba miktuba lil waħda minnhom li nstabet fil-Biblijoteka Nazzjonali, ħajjiet ta’ sorijiet konnessi ma’ dawk tal-prostituti, u kripta mirduma bil-fdalijiet tas-sorijiet tal-Maddalena tistenna sakemm xi ħadd jerġa’ jsibha ħalli jagħti lura d-dinjità lil dawn in-nisa, illum minsija imma li fi żmienhom kienu tant magħrufa.
Fatt kurjuż huwa li meta Christine bdiet tistaqsi madwarha ħalli tikseb informazzjoni dwar din il-knisja u s-sorijiet tagħha, ftit li xejn kien hemm min kien jaf dwarha. Donnhom dawn is-sorijiet tal-Maddalena kienu ġew imħassra kompletament mill-memorja kollettiva ta’ dan in-nazzjon, bħallikieku xi ħadd xtaqhom jintesew għal kollox. Iżda huwa waqt każi bħal dawn li l-arkivji juru l-potenzjal tagħhom, hekk kif aktar ma l-awtriċi bdiet tistinka biex tiġbor it-tifkiriet ta’ dawn is-sorijiet, iżjed bdiet toħroġ l-evidenza tal-eżistenza tagħhom.
Fost il-paġni ta’ dan il-ktieb intriganti, wieħed isib ukoll kopja ta’ ittra ta’ mħabba li l-awtriċi sabet arkivjata flimkien mad-dokumenti antiki tal-Biblijoteka Nazzjonali. Fiha, l-awtur anonimu li kien il-maħbub ta’ ċerta Giuditta għal 33 sena sħaħ, jinfurmaha li kien sejjer ikellem lill-Papa u sadanittant jissuġġerilha wkoll biex tilbes żarbun tat-takkuna u tibda titla’ u tinżel it-taraġ bih ħalli ma tintelaqx. L-ittra twebblek li forsi finalment dawn il-maħbubin kienu ser jieħdu xi deċiżjoni biex jibdew xi ħajja flimkien. Madanakollu, Christine irnexxielha ssib soru li kien jisimha Sister Giuditta Novi li kienet tgħix fil-monasteru fil-perjodu tal-ittra u din mietet hemm erbgħa snin wara d-data ta’ dan il-messaġġ.
Fl-istess ħin, l-awtriċi traċċat ukoll żewġ kwadri li juru xeni tal-Maddalena ma’ Ġesù bit-titlu Noli me tangere (la tmissnix), li jidher li kienu jappartjenu lil dan il-monasteru. Wieħed minndawn il-kwadri qiegħed fil-monasteru ta’ Santa Katarina filwaqt li l-ieħor jinsab fil-Palazz ta’ Sant’Anton f’Ħ’Attard. F’ritratt antik u rari tal-intern tal-knisja tal-Maddalena, Christine irnexxielha tilmaħ wieħed minndawn il-kwadri wara l-artal maġġuri. Issa hi tixtieq li xi espert fil-qasam tal-arti jikkonferma jekk xi wieħed minndawn il-kwadri huwiex xogħol ta’ Filippo Paladini kif jingħad ħalli b’hekk tkompli tinħall il-kobba dwar din l-istorja.
Minn
Omm Marion ma ħaditx l-aħbar bi kbira, iżda missierha ried ikun jaf sew jekk il-ġuvni kellux fehma retta għaż-żwieġ. Dan peress li Marion kienet l-unika wild fil-familja tagħha, u għalhekk kienet il-mimmi tal-ġenituri tagħha. Hi twieldet il-Belt, in-naħa ta’ San Duminku u telgħet tgħix mal-ġenituri tagħha r-Rabat meta lanqas kellha sentejn.
Ir-riċeviment tat-tieġ kienu għamluh fis-sala tal-Każin Konti Ruġġieru r-Rabat stess, wara l-quddiesa, li saret il-Ħadd filgħodu fid-9.00 a.m. Kemm Ġużeppi, kif ukoll martu Marion jiftakru li dakinhar kien jum ta’ xita qawwija, b’beraq u sajjetti. Bdiet f’xi s-sebgħa ta’ filgħodu u baqgħet għaddejja sa xi t-tmienja u nofs ta’ bil-lejl, tant li meta daħlu s-sala, ftit kienu l-mistednin preżenti. Biex il-kumplament waslu fis-sala, missier Marion kellu jaqbad karrozza tal-kiri u jmur għalihom fid-djar tagħhom, għax ħadd ma seta’ joħroġ minnhom.
Mistoqsijin x’jaħsbu fuq ir-reliġjon, il-koppja Schembri tħoss li din qatgħet lura ħafna minn dari. Marion hi tal-fehma li r-reliġjon tal-lum tikkonsisti biss filli nemmnu li Kristu ġie fostna u ħa l-mewt għalina biex isalvana… għax illum aħna nies mitlufin. Forsi kienu wkoll l-għaqdiet ‘imħallta’ fi ħdan il-Knisja stess, li tat l-imbuttatura għat-taħlit bejn ix-xebbiet u l-ġuvintur. Tant li għall-bidu, meta dawn l-għaqdiet kienu jidħlu fi knisja kien hemm min ilissen ‘Ara fiex ġejna’. Fi żmien Ġużeppi u Marion, il-ġuvintur dejjem kienu f’qatgħa għalihom u x-xebbiet ukoll.

