The October days looked caught in amber. Amber was the color of the land as it rose and fell beneath the high, dry sky. At night the moon rounded and rode above the soft edge of the trees, breathing its calm blue light. The world at this time of the year felt enormous, tall and wide and empty. (p. 103)
Works of Mercy is the first novel of my friend and fellow Mater Amabilis advisory board member, Sally Thomas. In the book, the widow Kirsty Sain lives alone, not just in her home, but in her thoughts and actions. She skirts around the edges of other people's lives. She cleans the rectory, but tries to schedule her weekly cleaning when the priest is not at home. She attends daily mass, but tries to avoid talking with the other participants. When cornered by Janet Malkin, a talkative mother of many (an indefinite number as they run and wander so much Kirsty can't keep track of them), she remains taciturn. She observes everyone as if from a distance.
At the same time, her thoughts circle repeatedly through memories of the people she left behind in England when she came as a bride to America. The relationships with her parents, her grandmother, her aunt, and her lover are revealed in her memories nearly as detached as the relationships of her present.
But as Janet and her family begin to view Kirsty as a friend, Kirsty finds herself drawn unwillingly into their lives. Begrudgingly, she visits them and prepares meals for them. When tragedy strikes, she comforts them and suffers with them.
Kirsty's works of mercy allow the Malkins to press close to her. Kirsty learns to love and to suffer with those she loves. The end of the book resolves few problems; it is instead merely the beginning. Kirsty cradles a new little baby and realizes she cannot go back. She is a part of their lives, whatever comes.
I have received nothing in exchange for this post. I purchased a copy of this book. Links to Amazon are affiliate links.
