My Novella ‘Mady’s Storm’ Continued
Mady’s Storm
A Novella
by James Mahoney (DarkJade)
Chapters 1 & 2
Chapters 3 & 4
Chapters 5 & 6
Chapters 7 & 8
Chapters 9 & 10
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A Time of Giving
I sit alone in the dark of my apartment, looking out my window as the bright colors of the holiday lights flicker.
Christmas is almost here.
My father didn’t necessarily celebrate holidays.
No, for us everyday seemed like some sort of holiday.
Perhaps living in Africa was the holiday. It may have been easier, existing far from the material realities displayed in Europe, and in the States.
But it seems Christmas is more than that. It is a time of sharing…
A time of giving…
*
The Hospital Director, a tall, grey haired man, shows me around the different floors of the hospital.
I decided to wear a dark blue, professional skirt, and a cream colored blouse for the occasion, though the chill outside is particularly unbearable.
“We’re doing our best with the little amount of funds our hospital receives,” The director says to me.
We pass by several open rooms, where sick children can be seen in their hospital beds.
Several are playing board games with family members, trying to celebrate the spirit of the holidays.
My mind drifts back to Africa, where sights like this are common, sick children and their families huddled together in little rooms….
I feel a sense of belonging, a connection. It is as if I am no different…
I realize, in this moment, that humanity is not so different than in Africa. And my father had always helped the sick there.
“Most people that donate money towards hospitals, or medical research, do so within regular hospitals… Often funds go towards heart conditions, and/or life threatening diseases that usually have more to do with adults, than they do with children,” the Director explains. “Sadly, not much of it trickles over to the Children’s Hospital”
“I understand” I say “Well, I’d like to donate $100,000 to the Children’s Hospital,” I had my mind made up long before he mentioned any of this, but seeing these children made me offer more than I had originally planned.
I smile inside as the Director freezes, wide eyed and speechless “$100,000?” he asks.
“As soon as possible,” I continue. I open my purse, and hand him my card.
“Here’s the number to my Financial Adviser, her name is Brett Stevens. She’s very nice. She has been given specific instructions to wire your hospital the money, I’ll let her know the amount once I reach my apartment, then call anytime.”
“I don’t know what to say, Miss Monroe… Your generosity is overwhelming,” He replies.
“Your acceptance of the money and compassion for these children are enough,” I finish as I look into the room of a sick child. A young boy of four or five with gorgeous, golden hair, he turns his head and we lock eyes.
All at once I feel not only that I matter, but I am realizing that America is so much more than I once believed….
And that maybe I do have a purpose outside of being my father’s daughter…
“That being the case, we’d like to throw a Christmas Ball in your honor, if that’d be alright?” speaks the Director, breaking my stare with the child. “It will give you an opportunity to meet some of the children’s parents whose lives you’re affecting,” He explains.
“I‘ll agree to it, if you make it a Charity Ball…” I tell him as the idea pops in my head. “Perhaps we can drum up some additional donations, or charitable souls, and really get your research on track…” I say as I remove one of my gloves, and the shake his hand.
Is this what it means to have money? Maybe the concept was completely different than I had ever thought, the power, much more altruistic and a responsibility than I had ever known.
My focus shifts to my surroundings then, and I grimace in response.
“Also, I don’t want to cross any lines, but you might consider painting this place using more reds, yellows, blues, greens and oranges…” I suggest as we head for the exit “Greys and faded pinks are very depressing I find… Not that I am educated in such things,”
“No, I believe you’re right… And studies are starting to say such things,” the Director replies excitedly.
It is like I cannot stop wanting to help, wanting to give….
“Also… I have a plantation in Africa…” I nearly blurt out “I’ll have them ship some professional photos of the landscapes there, for you to hang in each of the children’s rooms… Just let my Financial Adviser know how many rooms you have, we’ll put one in for each bed in the room.
Before the Director says anything, I speak again, “Africa is truly amazing… Every child deserves to experience it in any way that is possible.”
“Yes… Certainly,” the Director replies, but doesn’t seem too enthusiastic with the thought. People have their thoughts of Africa, I know. Why do you think I wanted to send Rabia back?
I say my goodbye, and walk out into the cold, winter wind. I turn my head a final time to look at the hospital silhouette in the dark, grey sky.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Questions
I sit alone again, a small glass of brandy in one hand, a cigarette in the other.
My mind drifts back to the money I donated to the Children’s Hospital.
For the first time, I feel there’s an actual use for my parent’s money…
Don’t get me wrong… I know that money doesn’t grow on trees…
And I know that my parents wouldn’t want me to give it all away.
So I won’t.
But I would like to give once in a while, which is why I brought on a financial adviser to help my money grow…
For that is something that I know absolutely nothing about.
A Career…
I’ve never had one.
I am still very young, it probably wouldn’t hurt to have one…
But what?
Lately the passing of my father seems to have hatched a whole world of questions…
And very few answers.
But what answers do I really need anyway?
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THE CHRONICLES OF MADY;
BOOK 1 – ‘I Died Once’ Novella Available @ Amazon HERE
BOOK 2 – ‘Mady’s Storm’ Novella Available @ Amazon HERE
