My First Day in the Convent
Sr. Ann, M.S.

When I finally decided to say “yes” to God’s call to the religious life, I visited the convent to get more information. Since the mother superior, Mother Martha, was visiting another country, I spoke with her assistant, Sr. Theresa. Sr. Theresa eventually accepted me after my application papers were completed. I found myself entering the convent of the Mercy Sisters of St. Francis on Oct. 15, 1960, only two weeks after my initial visit. Why the hurry? For my part, so I would not back out. For the sisters’ part (which I discovered later), so that I would be a part of their plan for Mother Martha’s return.

It wasn’t long after I had said my good-byes to my family members in the waiting room, that I was ushered into the mysterious convent walls where plans were a-brewing. I was told that I was to be a “surprise package” for Mother Martha who was supposed to be returning that evening. Since my family had just left, I had no alternative by to stay and submit to their wishes.

I was informed that I was to get into this huge box. The sisters made sure the box was big enough, but as it turned out, I did have to squat down somewhat in order for them to close up the top. After this test run, I was able to get out of the box and join in the convent activities for the rest of the day.

Then in the evening, just before Mother Martha arrived on the scene, I hurriedly got into the box and the sisters closed up the top. At least they had provided me with two or three air holes to keep me from suffocating! Finally, after what seemed ages, I heard Mother Martha come into the room amidst giggling and voices saying “surprise package.” When Sr. Theresa invited Mother Martha to open the box, she slowly did, and then out I “popped,” much to her surprise to say the least. At first, Mother thought I was another postulant from the group that had just entered before she went on her journey. When Sr. Theresa assured her that I was a “brand new” postulant, she looked at me lovingly and gave me a hug. Then and there, I knew I belonged. To this day, I claim to be the only postulant delivered to the mother superior in a box.

 

 

Memory of a Smile
Sr. Margaret, M.S.

When I entered the Marian Sisters, there were many orphan children at the St. Thomas Orphanage in Lincoln. Because I felt they were God’s special children, I was very much attracted to a community that spent their time giving orphans love and attention. Of course, when I entered, I was young myself, probably not much older than the children there at the time. I was in training. Consequently, I was not with the children as I had hoped. There were a few occasions when we would feed the toddlers or bathe them after a hard day of play. Despite these few contacts, there developed a real friendship between myself and some of the children. For the most part, it was a silent exchange of love. Most likely the persons in charge did not even know.

The sisters all lived on the top floor of the Orphanage and the children occupied the lower floors. Since I was in the novitiate, we had classes each day. Some classes were conducted on the second floor where the toddlers lived and played. Quite often, we passed through their playroom on the way to class. A smile goes a long way in bringing a shy little boy out of his own world. He never spoke to me as we went through the room. After passing by a few times and giving him all my attention with a loving, tender smile, he began to smile back. I don’t know if it made his day but it sure made mine.

Our mutual smile was a very beautiful example for me that one does not always need to talk to communicate. I believe he needed me and waited for me to enfold him in a silent embrace. I needed him to give me that big smile that told me he felt loved. In turn, I was loved.

God smiles on us all the time, even when we don’t deserve it. We need that smile and He needs ours. You see, it is a silent way of feeling and giving an embrace. No words are necessary. There is nothing more beautiful than a smile of a small child. Thank you, Johnny, for yours.