Travels through England Part 2

The next morning, after Jenny left for the States, loneliness and fear consumed me. Where shall I go next, in fact, where am I? I did not know the geography of England. When Dr. Schaeffer’s driver appeared and asked once again if I would like to go to Greatham, I replied with a yes. I really had nothing to lose. I was driven to a world of Medieval England, to Greatham Manor House, something like a castle, where his daughter Susan ran the school L’Abri, one of several throughout the world.

In exchange for schooling, they required me to work four hours and study four hours every day except Sunday. For my task I cleaned the carpet in the entry hall or some days oiled the beautiful dark wood staircase intruding upon my carpet, leading up into a world forbidden to me. The Manor House contained so many staircases and so many rooms that I am sure I never found them all, but not for lack of trying.

My auburn hair, dangling to the seat of my worn out jeans, won me the title of hippie, someone who rejected class distinction. In reality, I was only poor. But my fellow classmates came from worlds far removed from my own. Their interests, their lofty discussions, their passions were alien to me. I did not mingle with them but did my studies quietly, trying not to bring attention to myself. They paid their tuition, which was hefty, and I’m sure even paid for their airfare – both ways. I was just another Jenny, a lost soul among the ‘found,’ a miracle Dr. Schaeffer hoped would happen.

The secret medieval gardens and the thousand hidden rooms occupied my longings and my free hours. England should have been my real home. The ghosts of history held me in their arms, a long lost relative. Something empowered me as I walked the cobble stone paths and the long, musty hallways. Something was changing me forever. I felt it one night as the mists covered the landscape and the moon lit the tower window where I hid.

One afternoon, when I was sneaking up to my hideaway, a closet behind a closet near the library, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned to see Shirley, a Canadian girl from my dorm.

“Are you following me?”

“Yes, where is it that you hide every day? I mean, why do you hide from us every day?”

There was genuine care in her voice and in her eyes. She became the first and only person allowed to visit the secret places I discovered. Not long thereafter, we teamed up and prepared for an adventure in the outside world. We bid our farewells to Susan and promised to stop by L’Abri in Switzerland to see Dr. Schaeffer.