The handyman came for his pickup every Friday afternoon, so Nonna didn't discover what she'd done until the next day, when Rose was at the rink hobbling around in the pair of skates she'd worn the previous year. By then it was too late for more than recriminations and threats of punishments her grandmother would never follow through on. Nonna certainly wasn't going to lower herself to ask for the items back; Rose had counted on that. As for Rose, if a bit of remorse had started setting in, it vanished when the rummage sale made more money than it had any other year. Even though she knew she had to be careful of the sin of pride, she couldn't help feeling that it had been her efforts that had done it. And Sister Phil had been right; that feeling was wonderful.

Rose knew she couldn't give away everything she owned every year—even Nonna wouldn't stand for that. And besides, there had to be limits. But she also knew that for the rest of her life she would remember how wild and free she'd felt when she was throwing her possessions into the cartons. And as a side benefit, once Patty realized she couldn't hurt Rose anymore, she stopped her bullying.

Rose would never be popular with the girls, but she'd found she could survive them. And she was a big favorite with the faculty—several of the nuns were praying for a religious vocation for her. She thought she was settled in for the next six years. But by the following autumn, Nonna had died and Rose had to leave St. Mary's to start a new life with her mother.

ROSE STOPPED HER figure eight. Suddenly it was impossible to concentrate, and she had to move. She stroked her way out of the center of the rink and began skating fast around the rink.

What am I doing? she asked herself. Why am I spending my days ice-skating and remembering things I want to forget? I need to get on with my life!