Thanks again, everyone, for all your positive comments and support for my novel and blog!
I wanted to share another excerpt from A Thousand Kisses with you. This scene occurs in August, 1909, in Barisis, in north-eastern France, when Hélène leaves her daughter, Lili, with the Tellier family before she goes to Russia. How heartbreaking that must have been! Hélène had tried for over a year to bring up Lili on her own in Paris, but, in that era, it was nearly impossible; like Fantine in Les Misérables, prostitution was the fate that met many unwed mothers. In Saint-Pétersbourg, where no one would know she had a child, Hélène could work as a governess and make more than enough money to send to the Tellier family to pay for her daughter’s upkeep, and save for their future. She planned to return to France in a few years and live together with her child; little did she know that WW1 and the Russian Revolution would intervene, and Hélène would never see Lili again.
Lili was already 16 months old in August, 1909, and not yet baptized; Hélène had decided it was too shameful to go to church in Paris during her pregnancy and when Lili was a baby. But it was very unusual in those days to wait so long for a child’s baptism; if Lili were to die, the Catholic faith by no means guaranteed that her soul would be accepted into heaven, and this had weighed heavily on Hélène’s mind.
Here’s the excerpt:
Maria and Albert Tellier had agreed to be the witnesses on Sunday in the tiny local parish church, and a more cheerless baptism Hélène had never seen. The priest gazed upon the little group with a disparaging look, but was clearly not going to allow this innocent lamb, who could already walk, to remain outside the flock any longer. He hopefully asked for the father’s name, resolutely crossed out the line for ‘père’ and filled in just one name as parent on the Certificat de Baptême, not able to resist giving the mother a stern look. He asked for the child’s full name, ‘Alice Charlotte Aubry’, noting that the mother called her Lili, a name that implied such purity.
In spite of the priest’s manner, Hélène’s heart swelled just being in a church again. After an almost two-year absence, she closed her eyes to drink in the familiar sweet, musty smell of incense and old wood. The mid-morning light shone through the stained glass windows, creating coloured patterns on the stone columns and illuminating the statue of Jesus on the cross by the carved wooden altar.
It had been agreed that, after the baptism, Hélène should leave as quickly as possible to allow Lili to get used to her new family, so she started to put her things together after Mme Tellier had served a hearty Sunday mid-day dinner. The Telliers had further advised Hélène to keep any future communication at a minimum, since Lili would be considered as one of the Tellier children until Hélène returned. They didn’t want to confuse the child, and Hélène saw the sense in this. She gave Maria Tellier 40 francs for the first month, watched the woman eagerly take it and push it into the bosom of her blouse, and promised to send the next payment as soon as she found a job in Saint-Pétersbourg. The exchange of money made the heart-breaking business aspect of the arrangement all too obvious.
The photo is of the Church in Barisis, France, built in the 16th century, and where Hélène would have had Lili baptized. It was completely destroyed in 1917, along with the rest of the village, and rebuilt in 1930.