noon
Alma was the cleverest girl in the school too , and sometimes at the end of terms , when parents and friends came to the Convent and one of the Cardinals distributed the prizes , she had so many books to take away that she could hardly carry them down from the platform . I listened to this with admiring awe , thinking Alma the most wonderful and worshipful of all creatures , and when I remember it now , after all these years , and the bitter experiences which have come with them , I hardly know whether to laugh or cry at the thought that such was the impression she first made on me . My class was with the youngest of the children , and Sister Angela was my teacher . She was so sweet to me that her encouragement was like a kiss and her reproof like a caress ; but I could think of nothing but Alma , and at noon , when the bell rang for lunch and Mildred took me back to the Refectory , I wondered if the same girl would read again . She did , but this time in a foreign language , French as Mildred whispered -- from the letters of the Blessed Margaret Mary Alacoque -- and my admiration for Alma went up tenfold . I wondered if it could possibly occur that I should ever come to know her . There is no worship like that of a child , and life for me , which had seemed so cold and dark the day before , became warm and bright with a new splendour .