My Best Friend, Katie D

"My sweetest joy is to be in the presence of Jesus in the Holy Sacrament.

I beg that when I am obliged to withdraw in body, I may leave my heart before the Holy Sacrament.

How I would miss our Lord if He were to be away from me by His presence in the Blessed Sacrament."

- Saint Katharine Drexel

      Just a few days ago, I had the realization that if we weren't blessed with a priest to say Mass for retreat, I would have the crisis of a Mass-less Sunday. Now, of course, I would try everything to get to Mass somewhere, but the problem is: this girl has no wheels. I have a mandatory meeting for my upcoming Peruvian adventure...one that I am not allowed to be late for or leave early from. This meant, I either had to find someone with wheels who wouldn't mind going to a "last chance Mass" at West Chester or I was out of luck. When I was telling one of the sisters, I actually just started crying. My tears were not sobs or forced tears. In fact, I didn't even know I was crying, until a tear dripped onto my shirt. I didn't know what to do; my heart was literally breaking at the knowledge that I could quite possibly not be able to be united with the love of my life in the Most Blessed Sacrament. So...what did I do? Well, I called on my Facebook prayer group and asked for their prayers for my special intention. BUT, I also called my best friend, and told her about my predicament knowing that she would understand exactly how I felt. Of course, she took care of it. 

      I carried the crisis (and that's what it really was...a crisis) on my heart all day. Needless to say, I fell into my very quiet, problem-solving self. All day I was constantly thinking about how I (and my fellow retreatants) could get to Mass. Eventually, I wound up with a few "worse case scenarios" but I knew they still weren't the answer to my prayers. Even after talking to someone about, I was still in a predicament-plagued, heavy-hearted mood. I definitely moozied on through my day. However, there were a few spots of sunshine in my day when I randomly saw Sister Cathy. Seeing her more times than I normally would on a Monday gave me some hope that I would get the answer to my prayers soon. I felt that her over joyous smile was Heaven's hope to my heart. 

      Soon, the time came for me to head to the Motherhouse for work and still, I had no answer. I prayed as I walked across the street, feeling the heaviness in my heart. It wasn't a heaviness of guilt that I wouldn't get to Mass, but rather a deeper pain. It's a pain almost like that of an aged couple where one is suffering from Alzheimer's and cannot remember his wife so much so that he cannot live with her. The wife desires so much to be able to at least hold his hand or kiss him again, but he refuses to be touched. The wife, while knowing she can visit her beloved cannot kiss his lips and feel the physical uniting with her husband. I would be able to visit my Beloved in the chapel, but I would not be able to taste His Goodness on my lips or unite my soul to Him in the Eucharist. My heart simply broke and gloom filled the cracks. 

      The Motherhouse was very quiet for a typical Monday night, but I guess the oh so attractive scaffolding has been scaring away visitors...well, at least to the front door. I easily fell in the quiet pace of reading the most horrendous book for class and let God take care of the rest. I happened to look up from my book at the same time the Mother General was walking into Chapel. I smiled, not thinking she saw me before she opened the door, but then she pressed her face to the stained glass door, smiled and wrapped her arm around the door the wave. Once again, she became a glimmer of hope for me. After supper, she came through the "Portress Fortress" just to "catch up" on my life and hear the good news about Peru (we just ordered our plane tickets yesterday...IT'S ON!) and everything else. She playfully mocked my inked hand (where I had written down ALL my play lines...) and my bright yellow nail polish. Of course, I think she was just jealous about the nail polish. Regardless, the few minutes I had conversing with her was actually exactly what I needed. It was just a few minutes and I began to feel hopeful. However, it wasn't until Sister San came to visit me that I knew I was going to get an answer to my prayers. 

      Imagine the tiniest sister you have ever seen with the most beautiful white hair and most gentle eyes. She came almost dancing off the elevator. Now, you must understand that sister and I share a very special bond. We have a HUGE devotion to St. Katharine Drexel and she knew the closest SBS sister, Sister Thomasita, I ever had. I found out not too long ago, that Sister Thomasita would frequent the IHM Motherhouse just to visit her. She walked the same hallways I do now. And how perfect that our paths crossed once again. Last night, when Sister San came dancing into the "Portress Fortress," she handed me a tiny, paisley jewelry box. I asked her if I should open it and she said, "Yes! Of course!" So, I gently opened the box and inside was a medallion with Saint Katharine Drexel on the front. My mouth curved into a smile and my heart felt happy. But that wasn't the end. She asked me if I had any idea of who had given her the medallion. I said no. She then told me so gently that it was my dear Sister Thomasita. Instant tears. I leaped out of my chair, wrapped my arms around her and essentially wept uncontrollable tears into her veil. A few of the other sisters walked in and out and didn't know I was crying until I sat back down behind the desk. They didn't understand, but Sister San knew exactly why it hit me so close to the heart. Sister Thomasita is the reason I have a vocation to the church. She prayed for my vocation before I was ever born. It's a long, beautiful story and one day I might tell you, but right now, all you need to know is that Katharine Drexel used Sister San to give me the reassurance I needed to know that she was taking care of my prayers. I think after Sister San left, I cried a little more and simply ran my fingers over and over the medal, thanking God. 

       When I got back to my room after making a stop at play practice, I hopped on the computer to do some homework. Of course, like every typical person of my generation, I checked Facebook first even though everything goes straight to my phone anyway. As I was scrolling through my notifications, a little message box popped up at the bottom of my screen from Sister Cathy. Her message, "We got a priest!" I through my hands up in the air and thanked God out loud. Katharine, my girl, Katie D, my best friend, my number one God girl, did it again. She pulled through and answered my prayers while at the same time reminding me that I am loved and that right now, I am exactly where I am meant to be.

      On Sunday, my Junior class celebrated Ring Day, another IU tradition, together. A dear heart friend of mine, Kristie, an alum of IU, presented me with my ring and I was so grateful. However, she went above and beyond and got me flowers also: White lilies (for St. Joseph), White Roses (for Mary) and Yellow Sunflowers (for the Sun in my life...Jesus). Unfortunately, I didn't have a vase in my room so I asked Sister Cathy if I could share the happiness with Marian Chapel, my favorite place on Campus. She said yes and today, as I placed the vase of flowers right in front of the Tabernacle, I had this strange feeling that Katie D was standing there right next to me and all I wanted to do was hug her. I know she is always with me; she is always reminding me. And I think, as Sister Ruth Catherine, SBS, once told me, she is calling me onto something higher, to walk in her footsteps in a whole new and unique way. But I'll wait for a confirmation from her, before I let you know! One thing I am certain about is that as soon as I get to Heaven, that girl and I are having coffee forever and sharing our lives with each other, even though she'll already know everything about me! She's my best friend, and best friends just know!