Don't Waste Your Pain

By Shirley Maynard

Jacob Henry is 7 years old in 1919 when he’s abandoned and left in a facility for the housing and treatment of those afflicted with leprosy. He is a healthy child. He is also aimless and friendless until a French nun at the institution links him up with Mr. Thompson, a non-leper and a teacher-in-residence who becomes his friend and mentor. For 3 years after this introduction Jacob attends daily classes with Mr. Thompson but does not speak.
Jacob is also assigned to an older boy, Peter, in a ‘big brother, little brother’ relationship. However, Peter has a penchant for flouting the rules and getting into trouble. Jacob has internalized his hurt and is grieving privately, therefore he is more of an extra shadow to Peter than an active participant in Peter’s shenanigans. Jacob has the example of Peter’s doings on the one hand, and the guidance of Mr. Thompson on the other. Jacob’s grief overshadows the blessings of his life, and the hope of his future is lost in pain. As a result, knowing what to do in such circumstances is not always obvious. Jacob chooses to become someone of whom both he and Mr. Thompson could be proud.
In a life of contrasts- from The Leprosarium to becoming a recognized achiever and positive role model, Don’t Waste Your Pain is intended to encourage readers to seek support and guidance from others in dealing with emotional trauma. This support gives one a better chance at a positive outcome. A chance that opens the path to healing and to finding the deep meaning of one’s human experience.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Jul 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9798765230657

Shirley Maynard

Shirley Maynard is a woman with a past. Past MA Literature graduate of Fordham University, past guest editor of ‘Caribbean Contact” magazine, past teacher, past writer of other people’s papers, past computer systems analyst, past business administrator, past parent whose only two sons died tragically 13 years apart. You’d think she’d stop there- but NO! She goes on to write her first novel, ‘Don’t Waste Your Pain’. I wonder why that title?

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Copyright © 2022 Shirley Maynard.

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All names used in the story are fictional and some events

have been altered to fit the narrative.

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Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 979-8-7652-3064-0 (sc)

ISBN: 979-8-7652-3066-4 (hc)

ISBN: 979-8-7652-3065-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022911992

Balboa Press rev. date:  07/26/2022

CONTENTS

Dedication

Acknowledgement

One     Meet Jacob Henry

Two     The Accident

Three     Rena’s Memories

Four     The Hospital Visit

Five     The Leprosarium

Six     Searching For God

Seven     Mr. Thompson’s Story

Eight     News! News! News!

Nine     The Friday Night Concert

Ten     Lessons In Discipline

Eleven     Planning Jacob’s Future

Twelve     What If… What If…

Thirteen     The Friday Night Concert Surprise

Jacob Henry’s History

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my father who lived for 94 years. He was married to my mother for 66 years and together they raised eight children. His priorities for his children were a good education and a meaningful life. We were all fortunate to have known his love, his support of our family, and to have learned from his wisdom. He lives on in each of us.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

I would like to recognize, acknowledge, and thank my family and friends around the world who have supported me in this effort by tirelessly urging me on. Your encouragement as I ventured into this new world of novel writing has been invaluable.

I especially want to thank Alex who willingly helped me with what he called ‘technical support’; Annette who never missed an opportunity to ask if I had finished the book; Cheryl who frequently reminded me that ‘you can do this’; Derrick who had more confidence than I did that the book would be written; Edgar (Tee), who ‘adopted’ me and gave me his blessing; Judy who kept reminding me of how proud my father would be to know that I wrote a book about his life; Max who ‘always has my back’ gave valuable advice; and Paula, who generously provided me with the space in her home to do the writing. She was a willing listener and discussion participant whenever I needed to talk about the work in progress…and so many others who encouraged me in this first effort. I cannot name you all, but you know who you are. Thank you.

ONE

MEET JACOB HENRY

At the very beginning of the 20th century, 1912, to be exact, my father’s pain began. He was born ‘out of wedlock’ on the Caribbean island of Monos. His mother was sent four hundred and fifty miles away from her home on the island of Nevis as soon as the pregnancy was discovered, so that her well-respected family could be spared the shame. She gave birth on Monos to a boy whom she named Jacob. She left him on Monos with his godparents, Mr. and Mrs. Horston, when he was four years old. The Horstons who were originally from Nevis, were old and trusted friends of her parents. Jacob’s mother sailed off to America to seek her fortune, with the promise to send for Jacob as soon as she was settled and earning enough income to take care of him as a single parent. However, at age seven, with the excuse of a sore on his leg that wouldn’t heal, he was taken by his godmother to the hospital for lepers located on the grounds of The Leprosarium. His godmother, Mrs. Horston, whom he called ‘mama’, delivered him to the French nuns who managed the place, and turned her back on him.

The Leprosarium in Monos had been built by the British Government on public lands near the coast, in the Capital City of Medasar, on the Western peninsula. The property consisted of a complex of separate buildings, including the hospital, that were known collectively as The Leprosarium. In an unusual marriage of cooperation between Church and State, The Leprosarium was established and maintained by the Government, and managed by the Catholic Church. It was in this context that the Archbishop, Monsieur Louis, made a request for Dominican Sisters from France to come to Monos to assist in this work of the Church- the care of the lepers. Those volunteering for service were trained at Lyons in France before making the trip to Monos. What the Sisters saw when they arrived was a long, wooden, two-storied building with a wrap-around balcony on the upper floor. It was a scenic location with the overlapping hills of a mountain ridge as the backdrop to the West. The gabled roof of the building which held their living quarters, appeared in the foreground as a lower part of the ridge system. There were orchards, and gardens, and greenery of every shade that ran up the slopes of the mountains as far as the eye could see. To the East was the beach. The sound of the surf could be heard as the carriages rolled along the tree-lined avenue to The Leprosarium.

Jacob and his ‘mama’ had taken the tramway to the hospital. They walked up the avenue, observing the lepers at different locations on the roadway or on the paved edges lining the route. Jacob found them scary, and smelly, and distorted beyond anything his imagination could conjure up. Some had their hands out, begging for alms. Jacob was afraid. He reached for Mrs. Horston’s hand. She pushed her hands into her skirt pockets and hissed under her breath, Grow up, Jacob, don’t be such a baby.

They were soon in the receiving area of the Hospital building where the smell of rotting flesh was so overwhelming that Mrs. Horston quickly covered her nose with a handkerchief and elbowed Jacob to do the same. Jacob observed that the walls which were once painted white were now grey, the smell of disinfectant battled with the mixed odor of antiseptic and urine, the sunlight and fresh air coming in through the open windows fought a losing battle with the atmosphere of despair that circled the room. The close-up view of the lepers was even more disturbing. The room was filled with the moans of captivity. Here was human distortion of every kind. Here were people, early victims of social distancing, who through no fault of their own felt forsaken and forgotten, not touched by others for a lifetime. The only ray of joy came from the nuns in their starched whites who bustled about, bringing a measure of order to the chaos. Jacob was beginning to cry at the horror of it all when a friendly arm encircled his shoulders and led him into an examination room. Mrs. Horston followed to press her case as to why the child should be admitted to the hospital.

I just admitted a young boy, said Sister Marie Claire, taking a seat across from Sr. Rose,