Anna Maria's Gift (3 page)

A
t sunrise the chapel bell rang. Silvia and the other girls began to stir. They said the morning prayer as they dressed in the chill air. “Hail Mary, full of grace …”

Anna Maria slipped out of bed and put her violin back in the trunk. She glanced around to see if anyone noticed. Her heart fell. Paolina was watching with a smirk on her face, even while she said the prayer.

Anna Maria pulled the red uniform over
her head. The cloth was rough and scratchy. It made her feel like an orphan.

The other girls were dressed and standing at the foot of their beds. A nun waited silently at the door. Anna Maria pulled the blanket over her pillow and stepped into her place. Then the nun led them downstairs to the chapel.

Anna Maria bent her knee, signed the cross, and sat down next to Silvia. Along one side of the chapel there was a deep balcony.

“That’s where we perform,” Silvia whispered.

Perform!
The word sent a thrill of excitement through Anna Maria. She imagined playing her violin up there for all the world to hear. Maybe there
was
something good about living in this place.

After Mass, the nun led them into the dining room for chocolate and rolls. There
was no talking at breakfast, either.

Anna Maria looked up and down the table at the other girls. They had ways of talking silently. Mouthed words, rolled eyes, a tilt of the head, an elbow nudge. Paolina was making fun of her. She pretended to play a violin. Then she hugged it and closed her eyes.

Anna Maria turned to Silvia and mouthed the words
I hate her
. Silvia nodded.

Three bells rang. The girls stood and filed out, table by table. At the door a nun smiled and called her over.

“I am Sister Lidia, your aunt here. Welcome to the Pietà, dear child.”

Anna Maria could only stare. Sister Lidia’s pale skin and gentle blue eyes stirred up a vivid memory.

“Are you thinking that I look like your mother?” Sister Lidia asked.

Anna Maria was surprised. “How did you know?”

“Because your mother and I were best friends here. Everyone said we could be sisters. And who knows? Maybe we were.”

Anna Maria flung her arms around Sister Lidia. “You are truly my aunt. I know you are!”

“Perhaps so, dear child.” Sister Lidia took Anna Maria by the shoulders. “It is time for your class with Maestro Vivaldi. Go fetch your violin, and I’ll meet you on the first floor.”

Anna Maria ran and got her violin. Sister Lidia led the way to the music room. As girls entered and sat down, she took Anna Maria to meet the maestro.

He stood at the front of the room, dressed in a priest’s black robe. His red hair sprang out from under his cap like curling flames of
fire. The Red Priest, he was called.

“Maestro Vivaldi, this is Anna Maria Lombardini,” Sister Lidia said.

“Daughter of the violin maker!” He paused, and his eyes grew serious. “I am sorry to hear of his passing, my dear. He had many violins yet to give the world.”

Anna Maria looked down, clutching her violin case.

“Could that be one of them?” he asked.

She looked up at him.
“Sì
, Maestro.”

“Will you play it for us?”

Anna Maria nodded and took the violin out of the case. “This was my father’s favorite piece.”

She closed her eyes and began to play the largo from Maestro Vivaldi’s own concerto.
Dum dee-dee dum
. As Anna Maria played, she was no longer in the music room. She was standing beside Papa’s bed. She played with
all the sadness in her heart and heard his voice.
Beautiful, Annina, beautiful
.

When she finished, there was complete silence. She opened her eyes and saw the maestro looking at her, nodding.

“Thank you, my dear. Your teacher in Cremona lost an excellent student. I welcome you to our class.” He reached out his hand. “May I look at the instrument?”

Anna Maria gave him the violin. He turned it over and back and read the inscription inside.

“Now I understand why it has such a sweet yet powerful voice.” He handed the violin back. “You may sit here,” he said, “next to Paolina.”

The hate in Paolina’s face took Anna Maria’s breath away.

Maestro Vivaldi picked up his violin and bow. “Today, dear girls, we shall work on
fingering. The music is before you—a lively little piece of mine. Try to keep the tips of your fingers upright.”

He tucked the violin under his chin. “I will show you.” He inhaled through his large hooked nose and attacked. His bow rocked up and down. His fingers galloped about like a spider.

Thoughts of Paolina flew out of Anna Maria’s head. She did not know it was possible to play the violin that way. She vowed to learn how.

A
fter a few days, Anna Maria knew the routine. Mass every morning and prayers seven times a day. In between were violin class, reading and grammar, arithmetic, religion, study, and practice. Violin classes with the maestro carried her through all the rest.

Today the girls were working on their staccato—playing short, quick notes. Suddenly Maestro Vivaldi rapped on the music stand with his bow.

“No, no, no!” he said, shaking his red curls. “Dear girls, you must relax your arm between strokes. I want
ta-ta-ta
, not
ahhh-ahhh-ahhh.”

The girls giggled.

“Only Anna Maria is doing it correctly.” He looked at her. “Would you stand and demonstrate, my dear?”

Her heart leaped with pleasure. She stood, faced the class, and glanced at Paolina. The sneer on her face made Anna Maria pause.

“Is something wrong?” Maestro Vivaldi asked.

Anna Maria shook Paolina out of her head. “No, Maestro.”

With her bow over the violin, she took a quick breath. Stroke, relax, stroke, relax. Her bow bounced on the strings.

“Brava,”
said Maestro Vivaldi. He turned to the rest of the girls. “Did you hear how
each stroke was separate—not slurred?”

Anna Maria took her seat and felt hate radiating from Paolina. It ruined the maestro’s praise.

That afternoon Anna Maria sat down in the empty courtyard to practice. It was a clear March day. The sun warmed the walls and paving stones. Maestro Vivaldi had given her a violin piece to work on. She placed the music beside her and began to play.

After the final note, she realized that she was not alone. Sister Lidia sat on the other end of the bench.

“Oh, Auntie, I didn’t see you,” said Anna Maria.

“You were quite intent,” Sister Lidia said. “From what Maestro Vivaldi tells me, you are his most promising pupil.”

Anna Maria nodded without smiling. “I think Paolina hates me for that.”

“Sì
, maybe so,” said the sister. “But you must love her in return.”

Anna Maria shook her head. “I am not that good, Auntie. I love you, and I love
Maestro Vivaldi. But I could never love Paolina.”

“You must try, Anna Maria. Jesus said to love one another.”

“He never knew Paolina!” Anna Maria said.

Sister Lidia smiled, but it was not a joke.

Late that night while everyone slept, a shadowy figure crept to the foot of Anna Maria’s bed. It opened the trunk, took the violin case, and tiptoed out the door.

A
t first light Anna Maria woke and saw that her trunk was open. She crawled to the foot of the bed and looked in.

“Someone has taken my violin!” she cried.

Girls sat up in bed. Silvia rushed over and peered in the trunk. “It’s true. Is this someone’s cruel joke?”

Anna Maria saw the smirk on Paolina’s face. “You took it!” she screamed. “I know
you did.” With rage pounding in her chest, Anna Maria ran to Paolina’s bed.

“Where are you hiding it?” She flung open Paolina’s trunk and began throwing clothes out. No violin there.

Paolina jumped out of bed and shoved Anna Maria to the floor. “You stop that. I didn’t touch your precious violin.”

Anna Maria scrambled up. She threw herself at Paolina and grabbed a handful of stringy black hair. “Give it back, or I’ll pull your hair out!”

Paolina took hold of Anna Maria’s arm and sank her teeth into it. Sharp pain shot up to her shoulder. But Anna Maria did not let go.

Sister Lidia appeared at the door. “Stop, stop now!” She rushed to the girls and pulled them apart. “Your arm is bleeding, Anna Maria. What happened?”

“She stole my violin, Auntie. Make her give it back,” said Anna Maria.

Sister Lidia looked at Paolina. “Is that true?”

“No, why would I want it, Sister? Maestro Vivaldi lets me play one of his own,” Paolina said.

The chapel bell began ringing.

Sister Lidia glanced about the room. “Girls, time for your prayers. Mother Elena will decide what to do about this.”

The other girls began murmuring their prayers. But they all watched to see what Sister Lidia would do.

“You two girls get dressed and come with me,” she said. “Anna Maria, wash your arm first.”

Anna Maria cried silently as she washed the blood from her arm. It stung, but she did not care. She wanted to wash Paolina’s spit
off her skin. Most of all, she wanted her violin back.