The First Graduate

It feels like just yesterday and yet it was years ago when I opened the door and two nuns rose their heads, nodded them, and then rose them again.

      “Good afternoon to you, sir.  We are sisters of St. Mary and we have come to humbly solicit our plans for a new building to you.”

      I turned my head slightly, hoping my wife would come and talk to them for me, but the entrance to the kitchen was empty, just as I had left it.  Right, I was alone today.  Clarisse went to the building site of the Holy Family Academy.  “We are, that is my wife and I, are already raising money for the Holy Family Academy as it turns out. As a matter of fact, we may just send our youngest daughter there when it opens, in fact.”

      Grins immediately widened on their faces. “Ah yes, Mr. Lambert, one of our generous donators.”

      We exchanged smiles as the nuns went on about me.  Was this their idea of a foot-in-the-door strategy?  Make me feel like a generous person so that I can be more generous?

      “Well, we would be just so happy if you would continue to spread the word about our cause.  It’s going to be a lengthy and tiresome project, but with kindred souls like you, we’ll get there in no time.”

      I nodded.  “I’ll do that, sister.  Goodbye now.”  They waved with gentle hands and I closed the door behind me and went back into the entrance and then into the kitchen.  “Lea!” I called my daughter downstairs. She must have still been playing with dolls then. To think in just a short matter of time, she would be an esteemed high school graduate, the first one of the Holy Family Academy.

      I thump on the upper floor and then running footsteps down the stairs.  Like a rhythm of thuds and steps, she was standing before me, right when I expected her.  “Hello, Papa!” she said out of breath.

      “Hello.  Why don’t you follow those nuns.  I’m sure they’d be happy to show you where you’ll be in school in your coming high school years.”

      I showed her to the door but she stayed where she was, brushing a doll’s blonde hair, blonde like hers, with her hands that were still small and stubby, silly when they were all covered in lace like that.  “Papa, high school is too far away.  I don’t want to go now.”

      “And you won’t go now, but it will be fun to be one of the only students who saw the building before it was born.  Don’t you think? Why don’t I come with you.” I stretched out my hand and her little hand slipped into mine.

      “I suppose,” she said and she followed me out the door.

      I watched her graduate today. She does not play with dolls anymore. She does not need to hold my hand anymore. She will be going off to bigger and better things all by herself.