Week 3: My Name is Theodora (Storytelling)

I lay on the floor of my room. Silently, I stare at the ceiling and think of my life over the past decade. This wasn't the life I had wanted. But in the end I was happy for it, in all of its difficulties. I knew I was close to death. I felt a movement to my side where Peter was sleeping. I turned and looked at him, what a boy he had grown to be. I felt the motherly pride for him. While I may not have given birth to him, I had raised him from an infant, taught him how to love and follow God. He would be ten soon. I won’t be there for his birthday. I felt sadness swell, not for myself but for him.

As I watch him sleep, I think of how glad I am that we are at the monastery again. It’s only been two years since they let me back in with Peter. We lived on the streets together for seven years, as punishment for my infidelity. That’s how I always thought of it. While I didn't get Peter’s mother pregnant, (obviously, that would be impossible) this was punishment for my real affair. The one that made me run away from my husband in the first place. Still, Peter was the best thing that had happened to me since leaving my husband. Through these years of raising him, I tried to make him into a man like my husband, a holy man with strong morals. I tried to make him better than me. I hope I succeeded.

I turned back to the ceiling, suppressing the sorrow. My thoughts turned to the other love of my life. My husband. I had left him too. I wondered if they would find him after I died, once they figured out who I was. I wondered if he would mourn for me. I hadn't seen him for about ten years. Moreover, the last time I saw him, he didn't recognize me because I was dressed as a monk. The sadness rises again. I still miss him so much. However, guilt soon replaces the sadness.

What would my life have been like if I would have remained faithful to him? I most certainly wouldn't be dressed as a man, about to die in a monastery. But I also wouldn't have Peter. Still, I hope they find my husband, and I hope he can forgive me, even if I never forgave myself. Over a decade of penance and I still can’t shake the guilt. I know it must have been horrible for him, after I ran away. But I hope he eventually had a happy life. He deserved one. He deserved a better life than I could give him. A sob escapes my mouth, but I quickly silenced it to keep from waking Peter.

My mind jumps again. Images of our life on streets flood into my head. Demons and tricksters constantly tested me. I was so thankful for my time in the monastery again. From my brothers, I had learned how to cast away the devil, which kept Peter and me safe. And the way God provided for us still filled me with joy and wonder. While to everyone I was a disgraced monk with a child, God still helped me keep Peter alive.

So many emotions are pumping through my body, but I begin to grow tired. I remember the flood of relief when the monks said that we could return to the monastery. I nearly cried tears of joy. Finally, I had a safe home for Peter. Now, after two years, Peter is settled and close with many of the brothers. They will watch over him after I’m gone. And once they know the truth, I hope they will tell him my story. To Peter, I have always been Theodore, his father and a monk. My eyes start to close. Using all the energy I have left, I lean over to Peter while he sleeps. I whisper, “My name is Theodora. And I love you so much.”

I lie back down and begin to drift off into a sleep that I know I won’t wake from. 

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Author's Note: The story I rewrote was the story of Saint Theodora from the Women Saints reading unit. The story is about a woman, who after cheating on her husband, dresses as a man and runs away to join a monastery as penance. While at the monastery she is accused of fathering a child. She is cast out of the monastery and is given the child to raise, all the while still pretending to be a man. After seven years, she was allowed back into the monastery. She dies there, and it is only after her death when they learn she was a actually a woman the whole time. I changed the voice to first person, and focused on the end of the story, when Theodora and her son are in a cell and she knows she is close to death. This entire scene is made up, but I think she would have been thinking a lot in the end about how she ended up where she did in life. I also named her son, because it was much easier to refer to him by a name instead of 'the boy' over and over again. 

Bibliography:  The Golden Legend edited by F. S. Ellis (1900).