Girls Like Winnie

It was said that on the night Winifred Eugenia Tibert came into this world, her mother's screams were heard clear across Petite Passage to Westport.

Nonie had birthed four boys by then and had thought a daughter would be the simplest of all matters but after thirty hours of intense and non-productive labor - Wilfred had like to walked the soles of his workboots through with worry and even the midwife was looking grim - Nonie was nearing hysteria. Even after Aunt Pearl and Aunt Vi arrived, it was another five hours before the reluctant baby finally emerged from her exhausted, over 40 mother.

Had the baby been another boy, his looks would've been unremarkable but in a girl child, it was seen as unfortunate. She was slightly disproportioned and long faced, doomed to be a homely infant, a horsey looking child, and a depressingly unattractive young woman. Wilfred and Nonie loved her dearly but they were realists and could plainly see that the odds of this extra blessing child ever marrying or leaving home were dismally slim. She was, however, bright as a new penny and almost tragically kind hearted, so they decided to send her to the mainland to complete her grade 12 and then to a technical college in St. John where they hoped she would learn a trade and become self-sufficent. It hurt their hearts to see their shy, dreamy-eyed, solitary little girl leave but they were sure it was for the best.

Girls like Winnie need to depend on themselves, Nonie told my grandmother, She can't just skip stones and watch sunsets and collect shells.

She'll be fine, Nana said encouragingly, You'll see.

'Course she will, Aunt Pearl and Aunt Vi agreed, Child's smart as a whip, mebbe just a little too sheltered and shy is all.

And she'll be home summers, Miz Clara added practically, Why, it'll be like she never left.

Privately though, they were as my daddy sometimes liked to say, singing another song.

My Lord, Nana said ruefully, I cain't remember knowin' a more ill favored child.

She ain't sought after, that's for sure, Aunt Pearl sighed.

Girl's homely as sin, Clara said a little impatiently, Took after her daddy and that ain't pretty in a girl.

Ain't no need to be cruel, Clara, Aunt Vi said without a trace of her usual timidity, Why, that child's smarter than all them boys put together and a harder worker! 'Pears to me she could use a little more kindness and a little less criticizin'! You ain't askin' me but if you was I reckon I'd say pretty ain't everythin' in this life!

This was so near to a speech for my Aunt Vi that all three women stared at her slackjawed. She blushed to the roots of her hair and nervously dropped her eyes back to her embroidery.

I declare, Vi, Clara finally said, Ain't no call to get huffy about it!

I ain't getting' huffy, Clara Haines, and you surely know it, my Aunt Vi - my sweet, shy as a churchmouse and always tentative Aunt Vi - shot back, color still high and not backing down an inch, I'm jist sayin' they's more important things than bein' pretty!

Girls! my grandmother admonished, rattling her china cup in its saucer and clearing her throat louder than necessary, Pearl, shut yer mouth, dear, you'll catch flies. And Clara, mind your manners. I 'spect Vi's right. Wouldn't hurt us none if'n we was to be a bit kinder.

My Aunt Vi gave her a grateful if trembling glance and picked up her stitching as if it were a shield. It was then I understood she wasn't going to run for a dark corner, that strength can come from the most unexpected places and that timid or not, even the most unsure of us have limits.

Come along, Vi, Aunt Pearl said briskly as she gathered up the tea things, It's getting' on to supper time.

As Vi packed her embroidery, my grandmother cleared her throat again - strange that such a sound could be so meaningful - and with one well placed swing of her foot delivered a sharp jab to Clara's ankle.

Reckon I spoke outta turn, Viola, Clara said grudgingly, Didn't mean no harm.

It was as much of an apology as any of the women were likely to give and my Aunt Vi accepted it.

Never you mind, Clara, she said, I reckon sometimes we all speak 'fore we think.

And just like that the skies cleared.

Let that be a lesson to you, child, Nana said and winked at me, Keep a weather eye on the shy ones.  Quiet ain't always weak and loud ain't always strong.