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To the adults of Digne Mademoiselle Baptistine was known as the Bishop's sister. She passed through their lives like a ghost, quiet and unassuming, slow to assert herself but quick to offer sympathy. Everyone liked her, though more than a few more outgoing women secretly pitied her situation. "What a shame," they would say as she passed. "Such a sainted woman reduced to such poverty." Few dared criticize his Holiness the Bishop even in gossip between themselves. Monseigneur Bienvenu had his eccentricities and a perhaps unfortunate habit of disregarding the needs of the flesh to focus on those of the spirit, but he was their Bishop and they loved him despite his oddities. Before Monseigneur, everyone agreed, their lives had been poorer even if their material wealth had not flowed quite so quickly from their pockets to those of the needy. Mademoiselle Baptistine was widely credited with having turned her brother to his current holy path and though some grumbled silently about this conversion when he showed up at their doors to ask for more charity, few adults thought much about her beyond that.
To the children she was simply Mademoiselle and her appearance was greeted with eager cries of welcome and excitement. Mademoiselle Baptistine possessed the gift, so rare in adults, of seeing each child as a human in their own right and treating their words with all the gravity they deserved. Within months of her arrival in town word had spread that Mademoiselle would listen to their stories and not patronize their dreams, that she would treat their small treasures with sincere respect. Had she been of revolutionary inclination she would have argued, with gentle conviction, that the title 'Citizen' came with no qualifications including that of age; as she was not she merely reminded those who objected that they too had been children once. So rare were rebukes of any kind from Mademoiselle Baptistine that even the gentlest of criticisms stung and even those inhabitants of Digne who held the church and her Holy brother in some measure of contempt found themselves reevaluating their behavior.
In order to better paint the portrait of this sainted lady it is perhaps best to recount an incident that occurred during her seventh year in Digne. As we have seen she was liked by everyone, and she took care never to make her friends uncomfortable in her presence. Her piety was a personal matter and she was as quick to defend those who chose other paths in life as she was to stand up for the oppressed. Among her closest friends she counted the Marquise de R., a dignified widow with a heart as sensible as it was open, and Monsieur B., youngest brother to her childhood companion the Vicomtesse de Boischevron. Both Madame la Marquise and Monsieur B. took it upon themselves to see that Mademoiselle Baptistine devoted some small portion of her time to herself as opposed to giving her last scraps to those she deemed more deserving. On the occasion about which we will speak the two had worked together and invited her to dinner at the Marquise’s home. The menu consisted of plentiful foods rather than rich ones, soups and breads that would give to Mademoiselle Baptistine the strength to carry out her chosen lifestyle without insulting her poverty and personal convictions.
The evening passed gaily in conversation and laughter. Away from her brother and his silent expectations Mademoiselle Baptistine grew less timid, though no less gentle. She listened willingly to Monsieur B.’s stories of family and profession, to Madame la Marquise’s adventures in attempting to control her rather willful second son. When it came time for her to share her own stories she spoke of the coming harvest and her worries that it might not be plentiful enough to feed all those who would need food over the winter. Some of the children could not afford to miss too many more meals, and she found the prospect of them going hungry personally repugnant.
“Perhaps you should speak to the landowners and request that they open their stores of grain to the needy,” Madame la Marquise suggested, sipping her wine. “I feel certain that some of them can be made to see reason.”
“My brother has spoken to them already,” Mademoiselle Baptistine explained. “They have explained that this will be a difficult winter for everyone and if they open their stores too widely they too will find themselves destitute come next year.” She bowed her head. “I fear there is little that can be done apart from including the welfare of the poor in our prayers.”
Madame la Marquise and Monsieur B. exchanged glances over Mademoiselle Baptistine’s still bowed head. They were in silent agreement that Divine providence worked best when provided with a small amount of earthly assistance. But neither spoke this thought aloud and instead Monsieur B. began to tell a story about his young son, newly four years old, and his recent discovery of worms. Both women were reduced to tear-filled laugher at Monsieur B.’s adoring impersonations of his child and the mood around the table lifted significantly.
Late that night Monsieur B. escorted Mademoiselle Baptistine home and Madame la Marquise retired to her study, already composing a firm letter in her mind to the largest landowner in Digne, a man famous for his stingy nature. When it came time to harvest his fields he quite unexpectedly declared that all women and children whose menfolk earned fewer than four sous a day were permitted to present themselves to his home and receive grain rations in the name of Christian charity. Madame la Marquise and Monsieur B. had dinner again that night, this time without the honor of Mademoiselle Baptistine’s company, and though they did not mention the declaration out loud, Monsieur B. did make certain to congratulate Madame la Marquise on her recent successes and formidable powers of persuasion.