Free Anna Maria's Gift by Janice Shefelman Page B

in Cremona,” Sister Bianca whispered.
    But Anna Maria did not listen. She gazed at the sights—the domes of San Marco, the lacy arches of the palace, and the black gondolas swarming around.
    Francesco rowed along the bank where there was a broad sidewalk. The Riva, he called it. People strolled to and fro, greetingone another. Many wore strange white masks with beak noses. Anna Maria shuddered. They looked like death heads. Still, everyone seemed happy. A few people were throwing painted eggs, and one hit Francesco.
    He laughed. “It is only filled with perfumed water. This is Carnival, Venice-style.”
    Soon they came to a tall pink building. “Here we are,
signorina
. Your new home.” Francesco tied the gondola beside the steps and helped them out.
    Anna Maria stood holding her violin case and looked up. The Pietà was five stories tall. It stretched from one canal to the next.
    She thought of her home on the narrow street in Cremona, with its friendly windows and balconies. Here the windows were tightly shuttered. No, this was not home.
    Francesco picked up their bags and started toward the door. “Make way, my friends,make way for Don Vivaldi’s prize pupil!” he called.

    A man wearing a cape of red feathers bowed as they passed.
    The sound of a violin came from a window above the door. It was the most energetic, wild playing she had ever heard.
    “Only two people can play the violin like that,” said Francesco. “Vivaldi and the devil!”
    Anna Maria put her hand over her mouth to hide a smile.
Can he teach me to play like the devil?
she wondered.
    Sister Bianca stiffened and glared at Francesco.
    “Excuse me, Sister, but it is true.”
    Then Francesco lifted the door knocker. He let it fall three times. The hollow sound made Anna Maria’s smile fade. She pulled her cloak tighter around her. It felt like she was entering a prison, never to come out again.

A young nun opened the door and peered at them by the light of her lantern.
    “I am Sister Bianca, and this is Anna Maria, an orphan. The prioress is expecting us.”
    The nun nodded, waving them inside.
    Anna Maria picked up her bag and looked at Francesco. “Farewell,
signore.”
    “Remember to eat lots of macaroni and cheese,” he said.
    Anna Maria tried to smile, but her lips quivered.
    “If you ever need me, my station is there.” Francesco pointed to a bridge over the next canal.
    Before Anna Maria could answer, the nun closed the door. She bolted and locked it with a final clank. They crossed the empty parlor, their steps echoing on the stone floor.
    Light from the lantern flashed on the iron bars that covered all the windows. Anna Maria wanted to turn and run out the door. How could she ever be happy in this prison? Francesco was wrong.
    A door opened and light poured out around a large, white-robed figure.
    “Ah, you must be Anna Maria,” said the figure. “Welcome to your new home. I am Mother Elena, the prioress.” She embraced Anna Maria and then Sister Bianca.
    “It is good to see you after such a long time, Bianca. Come, sit by the fire and warm yourselves.” Mother Elena turned to the young nun. “Sister Camilla, please have the kitchen send coffee and chocolate.”
    “But, Mother, it is time for vespers,” said the nun.
    “It’s all right. They need warmth more than the word of God right now.” Mother Elena’s smile and her plump, rosy cheeks made Anna Maria feel warmer already.
    Camilla returned with a tray. Mother Elena excused her, saying, “Send Silvia to me after vespers.”
    Anna Maria sipped her chocolate and listened. The two women talked of a time when they were girls at the Pietà together. The years seemed to melt away in the warmth of the fire, and they became young again.
    By and by there was a knock on the door.A girl dressed in a red uniform entered. Her face was scarred by smallpox, but her dark eyes glittered like jewels.
    “Silvia, this is Anna Maria, our new resident,” said the prioress. “Please