Sister Lucia One Lunchtime 1968

The nun sitting next to Sister Lucia in the refectory, had her eyes closed, either in prayer, or listening to the nun reading from the rostrum, from some holy book. The nun reading spoke in a monotone with no emphasis or emotions, just that flat voice floating on the air. The rest of the refectory was silent, except for the soft sounds of cutlery on plates or the clink of glasses. One of the serving nuns laid a soup tureen on the bench with a serving spoon. The nun at the end poured soup into a bowl and with a nod of her head passed the bowl along the table to the nun at the end. Sister Lucia sat waiting for her bowl of soup to be passed to her. The nun next to her had opened her eyes, her pale face showed no emotion, her thin fingers were still in motionless mode. Once Sister Lucia had her soup, she dipped the bread she had cut before prayers said, into the soup, and ate carefully. The nun reading now read from a biography on Oliver Cromwell given by some benefactor. Sister Lucia looked across to the bench opposite where Sister Teresa sat.  Sister Teresa smiled a shy smile and looked away. Sister Lucia smiled and looked down at her hands holding the cutlery. The nun reading’s voice filtered passed Sister Lucia’s ears, moving away, as they did each and every day.