Dating : A Refuge For Eden

“Forgiveness is a sentiment that must be practised. It’s like riding a bicycle. You never forget how. It stays with you forever.”

Why did I continue to attend Father Domenic’s dawn services? His advice never applies to those of us here.

Forgiveness and love are not on the cards for us. He should know that by now.

As I walked out of the chapel provided for us at this so-called refuge, I splashed some ‘holy’ water on my face. The cool water settled on my forehead. My once fatigued eyes were now awake.

“I sure hope this stuff works!” said my roommate Adeline.

I could not have agreed with her more.

As usual, I was the last one out of the chapel. A woman sat in the surrounding gardens waiting for me. She smiled and beckoned to me to join her on the garden bench. I could see that she was holding a tray of cupcakes. There was one left. Her smile implied it was for me.

This woman appears before me every day in these very gardens. She is my mother’s age and tries to be a mother figure to all of us.

But our mothers were gone.

“Do you remember me, dear? I’m Trudy.”

“Good morning,” I said.

She seems desperate for me to trust her. I have no idea why. Nobody has deemed me important enough before. Well, before the unthinkable happened anyway.

Trudy is unlike the others. Most look at us like we are animals at a zoo or inmates in a maximum-security prison. They want nothing more to do with us than to help in the kitchen or teach us work skills. These activities make them feel better about themselves. We are a burden on society and their work will eventually make us less so. Trudy and I have spoken at length about our childhoods, hopes, dreams, and how we both landed here. She made me feel comfortable, at peace with the world.

Until one day she asked me to decide on my future.

I haven’t spoken to her since then. Doesn’t she understand that I don’t have a future? This had been drummed into us every day back in that horrific place.

Trudy has been patient. Very patient. I guess that should count for something.

She had offered me employment at her newspaper so I can receive one good reference for a fresh start in a life as an independent young woman. She offered me room and board in exchange for work. The offer was enticing.

“Have you thought about my offer, dear?”

I stared at her.

Would Trudy’s place be safer than where I’d been and better than where I am now? Three meals a day, showers, and safety are not things I take for granted anymore.

“Your signature here could change your life.”

Trudy handed me a pen.

I signed my name. The text ‘Eden Abrahams’ looked up at me.

Had I made the right decision. That is yet to be determined.