Some days this is my favorite chapter (story). I am fond of all the characters, but Mary Said especially. She is the housekeeper for Meredith after David has died and it’s just the mom, the three girls, and their grandmother. Mary works at the university as a housekeeper and picks up additional work, at this time, with the Collins family. She is also an animal lover, especially dogs.

Mary makes the mistake of plagiarizing, something I was quite strict about when I taught, reporting students on up the line. I’d let them redo the assignment or in some other way continue forward, saying “I won’t hold this against you,” believing that everyone deserves a second chance. When Mary is discovered she descends into a depression, which she describes this way: “because that’s what I feel like I’m in, the darkest, loneliest cave you can imagine, and what’s worse is I’m in the cave that’s in me.” She says that it was probably for two years that she refused to look at herself in the mirror.

This is a story about envy and love and healing. Mary believes herself unattractive and is sure that her long one-course-at-a-time education is a fraud. Her self-loathing is nothing new to me. I’ve struggled with it and I’ve watched friends and family agonize over their worth—especially when they make a mistake. Just last night I was watching an episode of The Long Shadow, and a taxi driver played superbly by Terry Hackshaw, says tearfully when he is questioned, “I don’t like meself. I don’t know meself.” He wishes he could confess just to have the agony of the detective’s scrutiny over. Beautiful, brilliant, wounded Virginia Woolf felt it her entire life. Almost anyone who has been abused has had to work at overcoming it. A Salon article by Michele Filgate examines self-loathing as it relates to writers regarding their own work. Are women and men different in feeling that it’s okay to call themselves writers? Are they worth it or are they faking it? She cites Jonathan Franzen and Elizabeth Gilbert in particular. I love Gilbert’s response. It’s worth a look, here.

Mary is hard on herself, feels herself unworthy. Yet she knows it’s envy that’s making her hurt, and she knows that loving others who are not as strong as she is—that would be the dogs she has rescued—is what she does best. I like what Meredith tells her near the end of the chapter, and I like that the three daughters make her feel welcome. You can tell yourself all you want how worthy of love you are, but it sure feels good when the people you value let you know that it’s so.

I don’t have a photo of Mary’s teacup poodle, Big’nuff, so I’m sharing this of our little guy, Beah.

To order Letters of the Karst, request it from your local library or order from amazon, here.