They Call Me Becky...

"What's in a name, if by any other name, a rose still smells as sweet." - Shakespeare

      Even though I always introduce myself to new people with my full name, Rebecca, I am always never referred to as a Rebecca. When I was younger the only people who would use my full name were my parents...when I was in trouble. I would hear, "REBECCA LYNN!!!!!!!!!!!!" roar from wherever my parents were. I assume for a little while my grandparents all referred to me as Rebecca, but mostly everyone called me Becca. That was, until, I met the nuns. 

      Growing up, every Christmas Eve we went to Mass at the convent. After Mass was always a treat of cookies and milk or hot cocoa. Aside from my Dad promising the sisters he was going to send me to them when I turned 16 (which he didn't), the only other thing I vividly remember is being called "Becky" by the sisters. No one ever, ever, EVER referred to me as Becky except for them. I guess to others I just didn't appear to be a Becky.

      Fast forward quite a few years to when I was 12 and my littlest sister was born. While our middle sister referred to me as CaCa, short for BecCA, little Lizzie has never called me anything but Becky. We had stopped visiting the convent for Christmas eve Mass by this point and so now, the only person to call me Becky was my little sis. 

      Fast forward once more to my Sophomore year of high school. Since our class was so small (a little less than 125 girls), there were only two Rebeccas. One of us went by Becca, me, and the other, by Becky. One afternoon I emailed my Biology teacher a question about homework and signed it, Rebecca. The next day in class, she addressed the question as being sent in by "Becky". She was searching the room for, "Becky" and even asked where "Becky" was. I looked right at her and said, "She's in the other class." She laughed and said told me I was a good joke-teller. Only then did it occur to me that she was talking about me. Fail. So in my high school years, the sisters and I got extremely close, as you can imagine, and while some who  I told to call me Becca, many of the sisters still always say, "Hi, Becky." 

       Today, once again in Biology class, my teacher called on me and called me, "Becky." While everyone else in the room exchanged questioning looks, I answered her without thinking twice. She's not the only sister here at school who refers to me as Becky. Whether I've had them in class, or have shared a pew or even worked for them as portress, I've been called Becky so many times before. I have finally deducted that it must be a nun thing. 

        I find it interesting how the sisters, without a doubt, have consistently called me Becky, even sisters in various, different communities. Many of my friends, who aren't used to calling me Becky always give me a questioning look that I just shrug off. I kind of really like being called Becky, especially if it's only by the sisters. It's just a cute, little connection, that is unique to only us. No one else can call me Becky and no one else understands how much I love it. Maybe one day, when it comes time to take my religious name, I'll tell them how much I loved it!