One day in class, the teacher made a comment: “paradise is a parent’s love. Blessed is anyone who has it.” It hadn’t really been a chapter in class, mostly a comment about another’s child inquiry. I thought really hard about those words, not sure about what he called love, however, I was unwilling to ask not wanting to be laughed at once again for being the only one who didn’t understand.

Coming back home, I knocked on mother’s bedroom and when told by the servants she wasn’t there, I patiently waited for her to come back.

Mother, these days, was really happy, always with a smile on her face. She took her time in front of a minor, wore beautiful dresses and went out to come back by the end of the afternoon. She stopped arguing with father every time she saw him, started being patient with the servant and even towards me, she stopped being mean. Actually, there were times when she was really nice and would call me beautiful.

So, when that carefree smile was still on her face, I carefully related the events of the day, repeatedly saying the words love and paradise.

She was, after all my parent right? It was all about asking I thought at the time. With the best smile on my face, dressed in that red and yellow outfit she gifted to me some weeks ago, I asked her the meaning of those words and if it was possible for her to actually give some to me. That day, I really thought that if I could please her, she would give it to me. Paradise I mean.

She laughed, really hard. Clicking her tongue, she said with no small amount of disdain. “Such a pricey place, yet such a miserable teaching! Nonsense. Is it to say that I will go to hell then?”

It was years later that I understood what she meant. In her diaries, she would sometimes talk about those people she hated, her parents were always the first included. If she herself didn’t receive her mother’s blessing, she was maybe unwilling to share her own. Not freely anyway.

Left without a clue that day I gathered my courage and waited for father too. The sun had already set and the sky was already dark when he came back. I remembered that fact clearly because he had been furious. School had contacted him and it seemed he wasn’t satisfied with my results, once again.

He was steadily becoming an important figure in the society and I was tarnishing his efforts he had said angrily. After being scolded I was too scared and didn’t dare ask him about love let alone paradise. I just nodded when he said he’d hired an additional teacher to help me at home –now they were two the one who was still teaching me about behavior and etiquette and the one teaching me about school’s subjects.

Riel, who wasn’t far away, heard my father’s shouts and when I stepped out of his room, she advised. “Try working harder”. With a smile, she told me. “If you please him, I’m sure he’ll show you a smile and be proud of you.”

I did. For the following weeks, I really tried my best. Whether it was at school or studying at home I was really diligent. The results didn’t come quickly though but were perceived some months later. I hadn’t been the best of the class but I got a mark higher than average. With a smile, I showed him my source of joy.

Who would have thought that instead of smiling back and praising me like Riel did previously he’d actually found another reason to frown at me again. Softly, in a voice that I could almost not hear he said, mostly to himself actually.

“If only it was a boy at the very least”

I remained silent, not even voicing my inquiries about paradise and love for at that moment, I really was unable to comprehend.

That night mother was particularly late coming home and I had to wait for the next day to show her how much I progressed and quite honestly I wanted her to praise me even if it was only with a “good work” like the teacher did.

When I returned home from class I was a little surprised to find her. She was lying on the bed, her room smelling medicine. Riel said that her stomach pain was acting on her again; but lying on that bed, leaning against its border while reading a book I didn’t really see how she could be in pain. So I went ahead with the paper clutched in my hands. I called her but she didn’t even acknowledge my presence and when I touched her to get her attention, she angrily flung her book at me. That book really hurt but I didn’t cry maybe I was too stunned by the tears in mother’s eyes.

She shouted in anger and the maid proceeded to escort me out of the place.

Riel had actually been more disappointed about those two people’s reactions than me and gently rubbing my head she dejectedly said. “Maybe they just don’t know how to love. No matter what I’m proud of you.”

The servants had always been quite amicable towards me. With extreme politeness, they wouldn’t call me by my name but say miss instead, only Riel actually took it upon her to be close to me. But does she really count? She wasn’t my parent after all.

Heaven’s road it seemed was hard for me to follow.