Anatole, that’s
the name that an Amerindian from Stuart Lake, in British Columbia, was given at
the time of his Baptism. He was a confirmed bachelor, at the age of twenty. Father
Claude Bellot, OMI, the local missionary, wanted him to marry, for his own well-being
and that of others. But Anatole, indecisive by nature, was hesitant and kept
saying: “Dunno… Maybe it’s good.” That’s all he could reply. One evening, in
the quiet of the night, Anatole came to see the Father. He lit his pipe, and
for more than an hour he didn’t say one word. As is usual among the
Amerindians, the more important the subject to be discussed, the longer and
deeper must be the silence which precedes the conversation.
What
is your choice?
Suspecting that
he wanted to discuss marriage, Father Bellot took it upon himself to break the
prolonged silence: “Have you been considering, Anatole, what I have asked you?
Have you decided to marry?” “Maybe so, Father, but…” and that’s all he could
reply. “Whom do you have your eyes on?” “Dunno, you tell me which woman I
should take.” It had to come to this. “Come on, Anatole” answered the Priest,
“There’s no lack of marriageable girls. Thus, to name but a few, you know young
Anastasie, who always wears a pretty
kerchief on her head. It’s true she has squinting eyes, but that’s not
important. And there’s Genie, who limps, but she smokes such a beautiful pipe. And
there’s Adelaide…and Henriette, so young to be a widow.” After all these names,
the Priest asked which he would choose. “Dunno… Father, you decide for me.” Nothing
could be done. He was stubborn. Tired of this useless banter, the Oblate advised
him to choose Adelaide, a harmless young lady, who was a hard worker, though, naïve,
and hardly more brilliant than he. “Good, Father, if you say so… I believe that
she will do. Ask her for me.!”
Wedding
Day
“Hence, in
Anatole’s name, I asked Adelaide.” reports Father Bellot. “Since her answer was
favorable, the date of the marriage was chosen. The couple and the witnesses presented
themselves at the church. The fiancé, for the first time in quite a while, had
appropriately washed himself. But alas! What clothes for a Wedding Day. His
trousers were covered with patches. On top of this, his filthy shirt had never
been washed since it left the store. And that was it. The fiancée was a little
more coquettish and was wearing a new kerchief over her head. But such a sad
face! One could think she was attending a funeral”
However, the priest asked the usual questions. Anatole responded well enough. “And you, Adelaide, will you take Anatole, here present, for your husband?” No answer. He asked the question a second time. “Dunno, Father.” “What do you mean you don’t know? What are you doing here if you don’t know?” At this point, Anatole nudged her with his elbow and shouted loudly: “So, say Yes, otherwise they won’t marry us.” “Yes, yes, yes, I want to get married since I told you I would.” The priest had all the trouble in the world to remain serious on hearing these three Yesses. He inundated the newlyweds with Holy Water. And that is how Anatole became the happy husband of Adelaide. His wealth is now his old trousers, his unwashed shirt, a gun and… Adelaide.
André DORVAL, OMI
