“But you should try to understand,” the nun said softly. “You will never make friends with those girls. You're much too pretty, and much too …” She paused, searching for the right word. “Favored. There's something special about you, Rose. A girl like Patty feels she has no choice but to try to cut you down.”

At that, the dam broke. Leaning against the sink, Rose sobbed until her tears mixed with the suds. “What am I going to do? I have to go to school here for the next six years!”

“Stop thinking about yourself,” the answer came back, fast and firm. And it stung.

“That's not fair! I'm not—”

“I didn't mean that as a criticism,” Sister Philomena interrupted. “I meant, quite literally, that you are now going into a period of your life that is going to be very difficult. You will not be able to bear it if you let yourself dwell on your unhappiness. If you had a great passion for one of the arts or some intellectual pursuit you could focus on, that would get you through. But I don't sense that in you. So my suggestion would be to find some cause outside yourself.”

“I don't understand.”

“Help others. It's not a goody-two-shoes religious notion, Rose. It's quite a practical solution. Nothing insulates us more from our own pain than recognizing the pain of someone else and working to alleviate it. That kind of selflessness is also a big boost to our self-esteem, because giving makes us feel like we can actually accomplish something. Most altruists are quite happy. Of course, one has to watch out for the sin of pride. But right now, Lord knows, that's not a problem for you. You need your cause. And I believe I know just the thing.”

And that was how Rose became the youngest volunteer at St. Mary's Asylum for Orphans. Her duties were light; most of the time she read stories to the younger children, did puzzles with them, or played games. But the sad-eyed, lonely kids never left her thoughts. Patty O'Brien and her followers lost their ability to hurt Rose; she now had bigger concerns.