During on bleak Sunday in the winter, Lisa travelled to the kindergarden feeling quite stiff. During the morning, her arms and legs were numb from the cold. Dinner was too far away, and all she was getting between the two services was a tiny portion of salami and bread, which was supposed to be for dinner.
Eight weeks passed. Winter had long settled into spring, which gave way to rainy days and a decided lack of sun. She found solace in staring out of windows, watching rain crawl down the glass. Framing the windows were large, deep red curtains, ones she liked seeing billow so finely during windy afternoons. But since rain changed the skies, Lisa hadn't seen a clear day in a while.
Ben turned out to be the golden child who was easy to love. He willingly rejoiced. He was so gentle and grateful. She had no doubt that one could the explain her love for the boy as a conscientious performance of duties. After all, this was what she was hired for.
Then why, when her fears had almost dissipated, did she feel a different kind of sadness? Why was she not pleased that she could be with the kid indefinitely? Living in a luxurious home? With the comforts of home in this breathtaking city? Why did not she feel happy?
The answer was clear, but Lisa did not want to admit it to herself. Humiliations, hunger and loneliness were the gratitude and the price for Lisa’s work.
However, deprivation—or rather, the difficulties of life there—eventually became less noticeable. Spring was approaching. Winter frosts had stopped. The snow had started to melt, and icy winds were warming. Lisa’s poor feet, frostbitten and swollen during the harsh cold of January, began to heal under the influence of soft April heat. It was no longer so cold that the blood in her veins froze. Lisa and Ben were now more willing to spend time in the garden. On sunny days, staying there became a pleasure and a joy. Green shoots covered dark brown beds and every day they became thicker. Here swept winged hope, leaving the next morning a more distinct trace. Between the leaves shone flowers—snowdrops, crocuses, golden pansies. Sometimes Lisa and Ben took long walks, and found still more lovely flowers along the roadside and along the hedges.
The sun shone through the blue cotton curtains, and her room seemed particularly cheerful and friendly with her wallpapered walls and carpet on the floor. It was so little like a bedraggled place with plastered walls and bare plank floors that Lisa immediately felt a surge of vitality. After all, youth is sensitive to external impressions. She thought that a new life had begun for her and that it would hold not only sorrow and difficulties, but also pleasure and joy. It seemed to her that the change of pace and new hopes animated all her strength and ability. Lisa could not say exactly what she expected, but something pleasant. Maybe not today or next month, but sometime in the indefinite future.
For the first two months, Lisa did everything for the family to make them happy. She wanted to do everything perfectly, even if it was only a babysitting job.
The hospitality of her host family was strange. A guest who came unexpectedly waited at the end of the corridor until the family finished eating. Nobody came up with the idea of offering him a drink. But an event that happened in the first month of Lisa’s stay shocked her deeply.
...It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon. The sun was shining bright, and there were birds chirping everywhere. Lisa was relieved to be able to go into the city and enjoy herself. The family she was staying with was having company for the day. This company was another family, one they had been very close friends with. The children of both families got along well, and often played together. Lisa arrived home later in the evening to a strange sight. Angelica was standing in the kitchen with a lit cigarette in one hand, and a glass of wine in the other. Lisa was nervous, as she had never seen Angelica in such a manner. She was usually far more proper. Angelica was discussing something furiously standing near the stove, nervously smoking a cigarette under the hood and discussing their best friends, whom they invited for breakfast.
“You know,” she started, looking over at her husband, nervously smoking. He was sitting at the table, ruffling through paperwork. He only briefly looked up as Angelica spoke.
“Yes?” he asked, encouraging her to continue.
“I thought it was rude, very rude, what our guests did today.”
Her husband slid his glasses down on his nose and looked up. “What was that?”
“The kids were outside playing, and everything was fine. But, one of her children came in and said he was hungry. I gave him a chip, and he went back outside to play,” she explained. There was a silence.
“But, half an hour later, he came back in and said he was hungry again!” She started to raise her voice.
Lisa shuffled her feet nervously from outside the doorway. She didn't want to interrupt the conversation, but her curiosity wanted to listen.
“And?” her husband asked, not seeming to understand the issue his wife had.
“I was generous, and I gave him another chip. It was more than generous, actually.” She put the hand that held her cigarette on her hip.
“What's the issue?” Her husband asked, almost sounding annoyed.
“They should not come to visit in such a state!” She continued to smoke nervously, and even shivered. Her face was red from anger.
“Hungry?” her husband asked, for clarification.
She nodded. “Exactly. Their parents should have fed them before they even came over. It's rude to presume I would provide their meal.”
Her husband shook his head. “I think you're overreacting.”
Angelica finished what was left of wine, putting the glass down on the counter. She left the room, pushing past Lisa. Lisa stepped to the side, and kept her eyes glued to the floor. She wasn't sure if Angelica knew she had been listening. She wasn't sure if she would get in trouble. She slowly walked into the kitchen.
“Hello.” she greeted, sounding glum.
“How was your trip into the city?” he asked, not looking up from his paperwork.
“It was all right,” she mumbled. “I wanted to wish you good night.”
“Good night, Lisa. Sleep well.”, Marc smiled and waved.
Lisa went downstairs to her room, embarrased and slightly shocked.
Maybe, Angelica was just having a bad day. Then again, these were people Angelica claimed to be her best friends, and this was how she spoke of them.
Angelica was full with eating air, because she was fanatic about her skinny figure, which was one of her status symbols. “The skinnier you are, the higher is your status. The only thing that matters is your appearance,” she said repeatedly.
Lisa knew Angelica made a lot of money as the manager of a very successful company. This greed she showed was probably the secret prosperity of the family. Lisa tried to keep these thoughts from circulating too much. If Angelica was that upset about two chips for the best friends, did she think Lisa was a fat monster, because sometimes she ate at least 3 chips a day?
27
One day the host family decided to go travelling for three days. Of course, they planned on leaving without Lisa.
“We don't want you throwing any house parties while we're gone,” Marc instructed as they were making arrangements.
“What parties? Of course, I won’t do any house parties,” Lisa replied.