Friday, 5th.
TO-DAY I took a vacation, because I was not well, and my mother took me
to the Institution for Children with the Rickets, whither she went to
recommend a child belonging to our porter; but she did not allow me to
go into the school.
You did not understand, Enrico, why I did not permit you to enter?
In order not to place before the eyes of those unfortunates, there
in the midst of the school, as though on exhibition, a healthy,
robust boy: they have already but too many opportunities for making
melancholy comparisons. What a sad thing! Tears rushed from my
heart when I entered. There were sixty of them, boys and girls.
Poor tortured bones! Poor hands, poor little shrivelled and
distorted feet! Poor little deformed bodies! I instantly perceived
many charming faces, with eyes full of intelligence and affection.
There was one little child's face with a pointed nose and a sharp
chin, which seemed to belong to an old woman; but it wore a smile
of celestial sweetness. Some, viewed from the front, are handsome,
and appear to be without defects: but when they turn round--they
cast a weight upon your soul. The doctor was there, visiting them.
He set them upright on their benches and pulled up their little
garments, to feel their little swollen stomachs and enlarged
joints; but they felt not the least shame, poor creatures! it was
evident that they were children who were used to being undressed,
examined, turned round on all sides. And to think that they are now
in the best stage of their malady, when they hardly suffer at all
any more! But who can say what they suffered during the first
stage, while their bodies were undergoing the process of
deformation, when with the increase of their infirmity, they saw
affection decrease around them, poor children! saw themselves left
alone for hour after hour in a corner of the room or the courtyard,
badly nourished, and at times scoffed at, or tormented for months
by bandages and by useless orthopedic apparatus! Now, however,
thanks to care and good food and gymnastic exercises, many are
improving. Their schoolmistress makes them practise gymnastics. It
was a pitiful sight to see them, at a certain command, extend all
those bandaged legs under the benches, squeezed as they were
between splints, knotty and deformed; legs which should have been
covered with kisses! Some could not rise from the bench, and
remained there, with their heads resting on their arms, caressing
their crutches with their hands; others, on making the thrust with
their arms, felt their breath fail them, and fell back on their
seats, all pale; but they smiled to conceal their panting. Ah,
Enrico! you other children do not prize your good health, and it
seems to you so small a thing to be well! I thought of the strong
and thriving lads, whom their mothers carry about in triumph, proud
of their beauty; and I could have clasped all those poor little
heads, I could have pressed them to my heart, in despair; I could
have said, had I been alone, "I will never stir from here again; I
wish to consecrate my life to you, to serve you, to be a mother to
you all, to my last day." And in the meantime, they sang; sang in
peculiar, thin, sweet, sad voices, which penetrated the soul; and
when their teacher praised them, they looked happy; and as she
passed among the benches, they kissed her hands and wrists; for
they are very grateful for what is done for them, and very
affectionate. And these little angels have good minds, and study
well, the teacher told me. The teacher is young and gentle, with a
face full of kindness, a certain expression of sadness, like a
reflection of the misfortunes which she caresses and comforts. The
dear girl! Among all the human creatures who earn their livelihood
by toil, there is not one who earns it more holily than thou, my
daughter!