Divine Plans and Good Intentions

I was once told that everything was fated; that every action a person performed, every thought a person had, every word a person spoke, was planned. Sadly, as I later learned, a persons’ life was completely in their control, much less planned to the exact second by some being, divine or otherwise. And what a pity it is that life is not as such. Oh, how much simpler life would be if it were.

How much simpler would my life had been if my mother had not instilled such a foolish thought in me when I was young girl of eight.

50 years earlier:

Pit-pat-pit-pat-pit-pat

The sound of the rain against the window pane angered me. The nerve of the rain to ruin my picnic! I had planned the entire day to a tee; the lunch I’d be hosting for my stuffed toys, the game of croquet that would follow and finally a buffet of sweets Cook had promised me. The day was supposed to be perfect.

I scrunched my eyebrows together, giving the rain a disapproving look; the same look Mama gave me when I was in trouble. I hope the rain knew it was in trouble with me.

The floor creaked behind me; I turned and saw Mama. She lit a candle.

“Now, now, Maria, you must not pout.” Mama said, sitting in her favourite chair by the fireplace.

“But Mama, the rain ruined my perfect day. I had everything planned.” I whined as I shuffled towards the chair. Mama lifted me into her lap when I reached the chair.

Mama took my face in her hands, looked into my soul with her brown doe eyes and said, “Yes, darling, the rain did ruin your plan but not the larger plan.”

“What larger plan?” I asked.

Mama held her cross pendent in her hands, showing it to me.

“Well darling, God has a plan for each and every one of us. We may have our plans for ourselves dashed but the plan God has for us can never be ruined.”

I looked deep into Mama’s eyes and saw that seriousness in them; she truly believed what she had just said. Well, if Mama believed that there was a divine plan for me then I did too.

Mama was always right.

A decade later:

“Maria! Maria!” Mother called from the foyer. “We must leave now or we will be late for Mass!”

I admired myself in the mirror. I knew I was a risk of committing the sin of pride but I couldn’t help but admire myself; I did look striking. The green dress I’d chosen complimented my complexion.

“Maria, I will not be late for Mass!” Mama bellowed from the stairs.

I took one last glance at myself then picked up my skirts and bustled down the staircase. I’d already committed one sin this morning; I wasn’t about to disrespect my mother and commit another.

I slowed as I reached the  bottom of the stairs; I would collide with my mother if I ran too quickly.

My mother handed me my bonnet as I reached her.

“Let us be off then.” Mother said, signalling for one of the servants to open the door. Mother stepped out first into the glorious sun shining day. I followed.

Spring had just begun and its’ smell was blossoming as the flowers soon would; winter, however, lingered. Small icicles were struggling to survive on tree branches. Despite this, the day was warm and sunny. This was indeed, one of the rare perfect days; even Mother who had been racing to get to Mass had slowed a little to bask in the day’s perfection.

“What events do we have to look forward to this spring Mother? Perhaps an engagement or two! I was speaking with Marie Laval and she implied that there might be an engagement between herself and Pierre Collard ” I giggled.

Mother cast me a look, “Maria, what have I said of gossiping?”

I sighed, “Those who gossip with you will gossip about you.” I rolled my eyes.

“Exactly but aside from that, gossiping is a sin and I will not have you partaking in it. Is that understood?”

I blew out some air, “Yes Mother.”

“Since you do seem so eager to talk of engagements and marriages, why not discuss your own prospects Maria?” Mother asked.

I stopped walking, my mouth hanging open as if I was trying to catch flies. Mother couldn’t be serious. I had been asking and asking, begging and begging, for Mother to start the process in which I was to find a husband. All of my closest friends had already begun and I was keen to embark on the same journey.

“Maria! Come now! If we’re late for Mass, Father Benoit will never marry you!”

I rush to re-join to my mother. I have so many questions that they race from my mouth like a deer from a hunter.

“Do you have someone particular in mind Mother? Is he handsome? Has his family agreed to the match? Are negotiations about my dowry underway? Does the man live here in town? Is his family of respectable status? Is-” Mother cuts me off.

“Maria, please, one question at time. To answer your first, no, I have not yet settled on one man, though there are many possibilities. You are quite a desirable young woman so I doubt there will be any trouble finding you a handsome and well to do man. Now, we are almost to the church and afterwards we are having tea at the Richard’s home, so I will answer the rest of your question when we return home.”

I nod and let a smile escape my lips. Mother links arms with me as we ascend the steps of the church; mass was to start in five minutes.

The interior of the church was much darker than outside; it took my eyes a moment to adjust. As they did I surveyed the room for all of the eligible bachelors; there not many young men in our small village but many young ladies. The fight for a husband would be fierce.

We made our way to the second row of pews and took our places. I gazed upon the alter and imagined standing there with my soon to be husband. I felt a mix of nervousness and excitement at the prospect of being a wife. Mother has always told me that being a wife is the one of the greatest privileges that can be bestowed to a women, second only to the gift of children.

Mother leaned in and whispered, “Look around darling, look at the men in this church, one of them is part of your divine plan. One of them will help you unlock your destiny as God intended.”

“If that is the case Mother, we must be careful of who I choose.” I responded.

“That is true my darling but we must also remember that God will always make the ultimate decision. He will bring forth the choices and the He will present us with the best choice for you.” Mother looked at me then, she saw the confusion of my features, “Darling, you have not forgotten about God’s plan have you?”

I met her gaze, “Of course not Mother. I was unaware, however, of the fact that I would not be choosing my own husband.”

Mother hits my thigh then scolded me, “Maria, don’t be so foolish! You ungrateful girl!”

I bow my head deep and apologize to my mother.

“I expect Father Benoit will give you a heavy penance for your sins this morning.” Mother tells me.

I know he will and I hope he does. I never want to embarrass, infuriate or disappoint my mother. She has done- and will do- so much for me. As will God, if I listen to his plan.

Mother hushes up as Mass begins:

In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit...