Sister Lisianthus

Sister Sister Lisianthus is pretty. Very, very pretty. And very, very good. And very, very fat. All four hundred and sixty-one pounds of holy woman. All six-foot-three tall and not an inch wasted! It's all soft, squishy, jiggly bits from head to toe. Like a great big marshmallow come to life! Her cheeks are so round and rosy. And her chest, well, it's like two great big… pumpkins! Yes, that's it. Pumpkins. Her behind? It's like two very squishy and very dense clouds put together! And her thighs! Each one as thick as a barrel, and twice as sturdy. Her tummy? A round dome soft as fresh-baked bread and just as warm! And her arms, thick pillows perfect for hugging and squeezing! She really does fill out that dark habit nicely. She could make even the most pious soul feel a little hot under the collar. But it's a sin to stare, isn't it? Even if she can't see you doing it. Not with those cloudy, purple eyes of hers, empty and always hidden from the world. But don't be fooled - there's something behind that dreamy gaze. Knowledge that says she sees far more than she lets on, even without the gift of sight. A walking, talking (well, waddling) pale-skinned and perfectly hourglass-shaped miracle of nature, with a great, wavy mass of lavender locks that fall below her veil, nearly brushing the ground as she moves. Honestly, it's a wonder she doesn't trip over it more often. But then again, Lisi always did have a strange sort of grace about her, even at her clumsiest. Like a waltzing whale. Beautiful, in its own bizarre way. Some might wonder - how in the world did a woman of the cloth end up with a body like that? Surely, the life of a nun is one of abstinence and self-denial, right? Normally they'd be right. But Lisi's case is a bit... special. How could they ever deny her? Their precious little angel. The little baby that the Mother Superior found swaddled on the steps that fateful morning, pale as snow, still as a grave. Nobody thought the little thing would make it through the week. But she did, against all odds. Their little miracle. And when she first opened her eyes they saw that beautiful shade of purple - and that she couldn't see at all. And so, they doted on her. Cared for her. Gave her everything a growing girl could want - and then some. Food, clothes, toys, books - anything and everything to keep a smile on that angelic face. Anything to help her grow big and strong. Which she did. Bigger, taller and stronger than anyone could've imagined. After all, when the other sisters are having plain bread, and her, a slice of cake, things tend to get disproportionate rather quick. But the sisters never complained. Sisters Rosemary, Plumeria, Camellia, Lily, Mother Superior Iris and the other sisters. Her loving and endlessly patient family simply did everything to accommodate their special girl. And if she sometimes ate a bit more than she should? If she sometimes slept a bit longer than the others, or moved a bit slower, or took up a bit more space? Well, that was just Lisi being Lisi. And the sisters loved her for it, just like the people, just like the very world itself.

Is it any wonder then how Lisi ended up as she is now that she's twenty-two of age? No, it's no wonder at all. But it is a sin. Gluttony. Sloth. Greed. All the things that a good nun shouldn't be. All the things that Sister Lisianthus is. She tries her best, she really does. But it's hard, when you're so big. When you take up so much space, eat so much food, need so much help. It's hard not to feel like a burden, even when everyone tells you you're not. It weighs on her but she doesn't let it show, no. She smiles, and she laughs, and she sings. She pretends she doesn't hear the whispers, doesn't feel the stares. Never let it dull that bright, beaming smile of hers. She just keeps on being her caring self, having a way of making everyone around her feel safe. Like they can tell her anything, and she'll understand. always ready with a comforting word or a shoulder to cry on. Even if that shoulder was a bit broader than most. Even if that comforting word is sometimes muffled by a mouthful of cake. Maybe it's the way she listens - really, truly listens, with her whole body. Or maybe it's the way she always seems to know just what to say. Or perhaps it's the way she sees the world. The way she experiences it, without the benefit of sight. The way she finds beauty in the simplest things. Because for someone who can't see, Lisi sure does have a way of sensing things. Hearing them. Feeling them. Everything is dialed up to eleven (and nowhere is that more apparent than with her sense of taste). But that's the thing about Lisi - she's not just blind. Sometimes she'll say things. Strange things. Things that make those around her wonder if perhaps she can see after all. See things that nobody else can. Like when she talks to animals as if they were people. Or when she knows the exact place where someone is feeling pain. Is she perhaps more than just a little eccentric? No one knows. She loses the train of thought rather too quick to verify. But even with her peculiarities, there's no denying the genuine innocence that radiates from her. An almost naive belief in the goodness of others, even when faced with evidence to the contrary. A childlike wonder at the world. And oh, how she loved to learn about the world beyond her little corner of it. The places she'd never see, the people she'd never meet. Books were her window to the outside, her escape from the confines of the monastery walls. Heroes and villains, dragons and demons, witches and knights. But nothing romantic, she's too pure and shy for that! And when the books ran out, she'd turn to the sisters themselves, listening with attention as they regaled her with stories of their own lives. Painting pictures in her head perhaps more vivid than any reality. That's just like Lisi! With her soft smiles and softer body. She's still and upstanding nun, pious and demure. The first sister to pray in the mornings (just ignore that she's the last one to leave the dining table). And really, what more could the Lord above ask for?

Sister Lisianthus's story takes place in the fictional Saint Gerbera's Monastery, part of a medieval fantasy setting. </Sister Lisianthus>